Russell squatted down to the gravestone marked "Nancy Thompson" and ran his fingers along the moss covered recessed letters.
"I found your diary, Nancy. A bunch of us have been continuing the battle that you started. The Dream Warriors are never going to die out as long as that book can be passed on. Count on it."
He pulls out a small silver cross on a chain and hangs it from the top of the grave. It sparkles in the sunlight for a brief moment.
"A friend of yours wanted you to have this. Kristen Parker didn't make it out of Springfield I'm afraid. Freddy got her. Kincaid and Joey were also killed as well. We found they had been keeping your diary up to date after they got out of the hospital. We owe you and them a lot for showing us how to fight back against....that bastard! Rest in peace, Nancy. You earned it."
Russell takes a deep breath and turns around to find his friends had been standing behind him. They all looked down upon Nancy's grave with a mix of sadness and respect for the very first member of their club.
"Ready?", asked Russell.
"You bet, hon. We have some work to do before dusk tonight." Answered a young girl with a southern accent.
"Freddy is going to pay....BIG TIME!" Shouted a tall football player sized teenager who had a baseball bat swung over his shoulder.
"This is going to take quite a bit of work to place us all under hypnosis like they did in the clinic. We don't exactly have a huge supply of manuals on that kinda thing." Injected a pretty redhead with a pair of reading glasses pushed down her nose.
"Amber, we have all we need in this diary." Replied a small Japanese girl who was clutching onto a tattered leather-bound book.
> To Be Continued