Roy tucked the Heart of the Universe into his inventory and turned to Dahlia and Ceci.
"Everything's fine now. Shall I take you both home?"
Ceci grabbed Roy's hand on one side and Dahlia's on the other, walking between them like a happy little family. Despite Roy's Captain America costume and Dahlia's ghostly getup, paired with Ceci's Little Red Riding Hood look, their trio stood out as odd, even on Halloween Eve. But Ceci was thrilled—she hadn't been walked hand-in-hand like this in ages.
"Mommy, can I have some candy?" Ceci asked.
"No way! It's almost ten o'clock. When we get home, you're brushing your teeth and going to bed. No candy now," Dahlia replied.
"But I haven't had any candy tonight!" Ceci pouted.
"Who said you didn't? Didn't you eat a lollipop earlier?"
"How'd you know that, Mommy?"
"Mrs. Stephanie told me."
They chatted as they made their way to Dahlia's apartment building. Once there, Dahlia brushed her hair back and looked at Roy. "Want to come up for a bit?"
Roy was about to say yes when his phone rang.
"Hello, this is Roy."
"Roy, it's Saltana. Something's going down at Santa Monica Beach!"
"What? What's happening?"
"I'm not sure exactly. I stepped into the bathroom for a minute, and when I came out, everyone was passed out on the ground—like they're all asleep!"
"Asleep? All of them?" Roy couldn't believe it. "Saltana, have you seen Jennifer, Nidi, or the others? Why haven't they called me?"
"I saw Jennifer and Nidi—they're fine—but Ashley and Mary are out cold too. I'm guessing they didn't bring their phones. Those superhero costumes don't exactly have pockets."
Roy realized she was right. Unlike him, with his inventory, the girls didn't have anywhere to stash their phones in those tight-fitting costumes.
"Got it. I'm heading over now."
He hung up and turned to Dahlia. "Something's up at Santa Monica Beach—a mass incident."
"What? How did this happen? Roy, you should go check it out."
Roy nodded, then thought of something else. "Dahlia, tonight feels off. How about I take you and Ceci to the Dolphin Hotel for the night? It'll be safer."
Dahlia considered it. Between the yellow-clad clown earlier and now a mass supernatural event at the beach, things did seem strange. If something happened to her and Ceci at the apartment, Roy wouldn't be able to help.
"You're right. Let me grab a few clothes, and we'll go with you to the Dolphin Hotel."
"I'll wait downstairs."
Roy used his satellite phone to call Bumblebee while Dahlia packed. By the time she and Ceci came down, Bumblebee had just pulled up.
"Mr. Black, I'm here!" Bumblebee said cheerfully, likely because Roy had recently found another of his "kind."
Roy, however, wasn't in the mood for cheer. "Bumblebee, to the Dolphin Hotel."
"No problem! Bumblebee, mission accepted!"
---
At 10 p.m., Santa Monica Beach was completely locked down by the FEA. Nearly every FEA agent and FEAR operative in Los Angeles was on the scene, with reinforcements rushing in from the Bay Area. The situation was massive—over a thousand people had simultaneously collapsed into a coma-like state. If it wasn't resolved quickly, the fallout would be huge.
Curious Los Angeles residents were already gathering outside the FEA's perimeter, and news helicopters were circling, trying to film the scene. FEAR choppers were busy keeping them at bay. Hiding this incident was impossible—eating up a spectacle like this was a universal pastime. Gerald, the FEA director, was probably losing more hair over this.
"Saltana, have the doctors figured anything out?" Gerald asked, his face grim as he stood in the temporary command center.
Saltana shook her head. "They've run every test. Physically, the victims are fine—no signs of poisoning or injury. The only anomaly is that their brain activity is off the charts, like they're all dreaming."
"Dreaming?" Gerald's brow furrowed, as if something clicked in his mind. "Have Black or any of the psychics arrived?"
"Lydia Foster's here, checking on the victims. Roy hasn't shown up yet."
Gerald sighed. "Damn it, I knew today was going to be a mess. Saltana, let me know the second Black arrives."
Before Saltana could respond, an agent burst in. "Director, one of the coma victims is dead!"
"Dead? How?" Gerald demanded.
The agent hesitated. "It's hard to explain, sir. You should see it for yourself."
"Take me there."
With so many unconscious people, the FEA had lined them up neatly on the beach for the medics to examine. The agent led Gerald and Saltana to the body—a corpse torn into pieces.
"Was it like this when you found it?" Gerald asked.
"Yes, sir," the agent confirmed. "Exactly like this."
Gerald frowned. He'd initially assumed it was brain death, but this was something else entirely. Before joining the FEA in 1990, Gerald had been a seasoned FBI agent, and when the FEA was formed, he was among its first recruits. His skills hadn't dulled. He crouched to inspect the body himself.
"Looks like it was sliced apart by something spinning at high speed—like a chainsaw or buzzsaw," he said. "Saltana, what do you think? Saltana?"
He called her twice before she snapped out of her daze. "Sorry, Director. This reminds me of a case I worked on."
"Oh? Tell me."
"When I was still at headquarters, I was investigating a cursed videotape case. You might remember it vaguely. During that time, I was in Texas and came across another incident—the Elm Street dream killer case."
"Dream killer?" Gerald glanced at the motionless bodies around them. "You're saying this is similar?"
"Not just similar—almost identical. The killer, Freddy, is an evil spirit who can enter dreams. If he kills someone in their dream, they die in reality, in the exact same way."
"That's insane. Was this guy contained by the agency?"
"Actually, I saw Roy kill Freddy myself. But that case cost us so many FEAR agents that I was suspended afterward."
Gerald paced, deep in thought. "So you're saying Freddy might be back?"
"It's possible. I think Roy mentioned once that Freddy isn't easy to kill and could return someday."
"Tell me everything about that case, Saltana."
As Saltana briefed Gerald, more victims on the beach died inexplicably. One had their eyes gouged out by a blade, another's head was ripped off, and another's heart and lungs were torn out. One victim, under a doctor's examination, had their stomach sliced open right in front of the medic, splattering them with gore. The doctor nearly lost their mind from the shock.
Just then, Roy arrived at Santa Monica Beach after dropping Dahlia and Ceci at the Dolphin Hotel. Most FEA agents knew him, so he passed through the blockade easily.
"Mr. Olin, what's the situation? Where are my friends?" Roy asked.
Gerald, still listening to Saltana, breathed a sigh of relief at Roy's arrival. "You mean Ms. Parker and Ms. Hill? They're in the tent with Ms. Morgan and Ms. Lesnicki. Oh, and your friend, Ms. Elise's apprentice, Clary Frey, is here too."
"Clary's here?" Roy paused. It made sense. With Elise away at FEA headquarters dealing with corruption, Clary had free evenings. Mary probably invited her friend to join the fun. As for how they contacted her without phones—public payphones were still common in 2000, before cell phones took over.
Lately, though, Clary seemed distant from Roy. During the Holy Grail incident, they'd grown close—more than friends but not quite lovers. Maybe Elise had said something during her mentorship, causing Clary to avoid him.
"What's the situation now?" Roy asked.
Saltana answered, "Roy, we were just talking about this. I think this is Freddy's doing—he's back."
"Freddy?" Roy frowned as Saltana filled him in.
"It does sound like his style," Roy said. "But Freddy usually only targets teens and kids. There are tons of adults here. And putting over a thousand people into a coma at once? That's way beyond what he could do in the movies."
"There's got to be something we're missing," Saltana said.
Suddenly, one of the comatose victims sat up, speaking in an eerie tone. "Oh, Roy Black, you finally showed up! Surprised to see me?"
It was Freddy's voice. Saltana's theory was correct.
The agents around them drew their guns, aiming at the figure. Roy turned to face it. "It's really you, Freddy. You're back?"
"Heh heh heh, little Roy, Uncle Freddy doesn't go down that easily!"
"Shut it! You don't get to call me 'little Roy'!" Roy snapped, his face darkening. Only Elizabeth had ever called him that—no one else had the right.
"Little Roy, if you've got the guts, come find me in the dream world. Oh, and by the way, your three little girlfriends are in my hands."
From Freddy's tone, it was clear his goal was revenge against Roy. Everyone else was just collateral damage.
"You're after me?" Roy asked.
"Of course! Uncle Freddy holds a grudge. If you want to save your girlfriends, come find me in the dream world!" With that, the figure collapsed back into a coma.
Roy let out a breath and looked at Gerald. "Looks like I have no choice."
"You're going into the dream world?" Saltana asked, concerned. "Isn't that dangerous?"
Saltana didn't know Roy had mastered dreamwalking, and Freddy likely didn't either. Freddy thought the dream world was his domain, a perfect place to lure Roy. But he didn't realize it was Roy's domain too. Freddy's biggest advantage was gone.
The real question was how Freddy had become so powerful. Dragging over a thousand people into a dream without warning was something even Roy couldn't do. Something had to be boosting Freddy's power.
"Saltana, I have to do this. Don't worry, I'll be fine," Roy assured her.
"Mr. Black, last time you used zopiclone to avoid dreaming. Can you try that again?" Gerald asked.
Roy shook his head. "It's too late for that. They're already in the dream. Drugs won't help now. We need to figure out how to wake them up."
Gerald sighed. If waking them was that easy, the FEA would've done it already. "Alright, Mr. Black, what do you need from us?"
"I need someone to watch my body while I'm asleep. Where are Heather and Penny?"