According to Dr. Rypp Vanwinckel, the head of the hospital’s Sleep Studies Department, Mr. Krueger’s insomnia was life threatening and brought about by horrible nightmares.
“The patient reports that his nightmares have gotten worse over the past month, and usually get more harrowing the closer it gets to Halloween,” Dr. Vanwinckel shared with this Modern Philosopher. “Needless to say, I was concerned when he informed me that he has suffered from such nightmares for years, but had never sought treatment.”
I wouldn’t normally cover such a story, Modern Philosophers, especially in the middle of Maine’s busy Halloween Season, but an anonymous caller to The House on the Hill informed one of my interns that Mr. Krueger might be more than he reported on his admission form to St. Joe’s.
The caller, who spoke in the mysterious, raspy voice that members of the All Hallows Society use to disguise their identities, informed my intern that Krueger’s penchant for striped sweaters and lethal gloves was not a coincidence.
After some thorough research, I determined that Freddy Krueger was the man upon whom the “Nightmare on Elm Street” films were based.
Using my connections at the hospital, I was able to gain access to the patient, and was delighted that he was willing to grant me an interview.
“That’s right, Austin, those movies were based on my life,” Krueger assured me from his hospital bed. “I sold the studio the rights to my story, and thought it was going to be a lighthearted romp about my volunteer work with underprivileged youths, and my struggles to get my line of sweaters into clothing stores. Instead, they turned me into a monster and wrote a story around the rumors that cruel local kids spread about me because of my burns.”
According to Mr. Krueger, he was injured in his mid-twenties trying to save the passengers in a fiery Halloween car crash. “I still see their faces in my nightmares,” he admitted as tears rolled down his horribly burned cheeks. “I keep yelling to the people trapped in the car: ‘Freddy’s coming for you!’ They always die just as I reach them. The filmmakers took my actual nightmares, made me the bad guy, and told me it was more cinematic.”
Surely Krueger was compensated for the use of his life story in all the sequels. “There was some money involved, I got to hang out with Robert Englund, and I went to the MTV Movie Awards a few times, but was all that worth it for what my life has become?”
Krueger’s sweater line never found a niche in a highly competitive clothing market, and after a while, the movies stopped getting made and the money from them ran out.
“When the hard times hit, I had to take whatever job I could get, and I ended up working as a night custodian,” he explained solemnly. “No one wants to see this burned face in the daylight. Then the nightmares returned, and I’m right back where I started…a poor outcast with a dream of making sweaters, and nightmares that will be the death of me.”
Why has Krueger come to Maine, but not sought the help of the All Hallows Society or the Otherworldly Being community? “Those movies made me a pariah, Austin. No one wants to befriend the guy with the striped sweater and the glove with the blades.”
What exactly is the deal with the blades? “After they wrapped the last film, Robert Englund gave me a bunch of old props,” Krueger explained with a shrug. “They made me feel safe in a world where everyone’s so afraid of me.”
Dr. Vanwinckel assured me that once Mr. Krueger’s insomnia issues have been treated, he will be spending some time with the hospital’s psychiatric department. “The man has been through a lot, and I think it’s time he talked to someone about it.”
Maybe then, the nightmares will finally end…