"Lord Barry, hurry up! We've been waiting for you!"
"Come on, let's have some fun—something really exciting!"
Ripples shimmered across the water, and a flash of white light filled the scene.
What a bright, white swimming pool!
So this time, he was going after my weakness?
"Stop with these cheap tricks. I'm not the type to fall for beauty. To me, these are nothing but flesh and bones dressed up in makeup."
Barry spoke righteously, his gaze locked on the swimsuit-clad women by the pool. His voice was steady as a rock.
He looked at them critically, not lustfully.
"Darling, what are you saying? You weren't like this before!"
"Sweetheart, come on! I bought this swimsuit just for you. Don't you want to… touch it yourself?"
The beautiful women with perfect figures did their best to tempt Barry from the poolside.
But Barry wasn't just any man—
He was a warrior who'd long since cast off such lowly pleasures. These temptations were fleeting illusions to him, nothing more.
They couldn't shake his will.
Sitting boldly on a white plastic chair, one hand propped under his cheek, Barry calmly watched them perform—or rather, Freddy's performance.
"Give it up, Freddy. Your acting is pathetic. You might fool a naive virgin, but not me."
He took a long swig of champagne, let out a hearty burp, and tossed the bottle.
Smash! It hit a blonde woman square on the head. Blood spattered—her face twisted hideously.
"How did you know it was me? I thought I played the part perfectly!"
"Enough of this nonsense."
In truth, Barry hadn't recognized which woman was Freddy. He'd simply assumed all of them were.
By sheer luck, he'd nailed the real one.
"Barry, you saw through me, yet still gave me time to prepare. That arrogance of yours will be your downfall!"
Freddy raised his bladed hand, pointing straight at Barry.
"Downfall? Don't make me laugh." Barry smirked. "You think you can kill me?"
"I know your greatest fear, Barry," Freddy hissed. "Now it's time to relive it."
He snapped his fingers.
Engines roared—loud, furious, shaking the ground.
From every direction, massive freight trucks burst through the walls, their horns blaring as they barreled toward Barry at full speed.
"Let's see you survive this!" Freddy cackled.
It was Barry's past death—his greatest trauma—come to life.
He'd died once before in a highway crash.
Could he overcome it now?
If fear took hold, Freddy would grow stronger—the master of nightmares feeding on his terror. Barry's chances of survival would plummet.
The trucks didn't slow down. They roared toward him, engines screaming, ready to crush him flat.
"This is ridiculous! You think I'm scared of trucks?"
White bones burst from beneath his skin, layering over his body until he stood armored head to toe—a walking fortress of bone.
Even as the trucks slammed into him, he stood his ground.
"Let's see how you like this!"
With a thunderous roar, Barry's strength surged, his power exploding with each beat of his heart.
Cracks spidered through his armor as he clenched his fists and struck back.
Boom! His punch dented the front of a truck like it was made of tin.
Grabbing two still-turning vehicles, he lifted them clean off the ground—then swung them around in a massive arc.
A spinning storm of steel and rage swept the other trucks away.
Next, curved bone blades extended from his arms. With a flicker of motion, he sliced through the metal frames like paper.
"Got any more tricks? Bring them on!"
But Freddy was gone.
Seeing the tide turn, he'd vanished without a trace.
"Running already, Freddy? Time's up. Guess it's my turn to hunt you."
Barry leaped toward an overturned truck, ripped its door off, and climbed inside.
He could feel it—the exit was there.
Through these battles, his mastery of the dream world had grown at a phenomenal rate.
After all, Freddy—unwittingly—had been showing him how this nightmare realm worked.
Barry closed his eyes. Then opened them.
He was back on the mountain road.
A muffled voice called out in panic.
At the cliff's edge, Joey was still tied up, crying out for help—his voice trembling with fear more than hope.
Freddy must've been too busy fighting Barry to finish him off.
Barry stepped forward, his bone blade flashing. The ropes snapped cleanly.
Before Joey could react, Barry grabbed him by the collar and jumped.
They fell together into open air.
"Wahooo!"
Joey screamed in terror, tears streaming from his eyes.
Barry was calm, almost relaxed, as though leaping off a cliff was a casual thing to do.
After falling about thirty feet, their bodies suddenly vanished—transitioning into the next dream.
Nancy's old house. A creepy little wooden cabin.
"Come on, Nancy," a woman's voice called sweetly from outside the bedroom door. "Mommy misses you."
Inside, Nancy had barricaded herself in, piling furniture against the door.
"Baby, open the door. Let Mommy hug you."
"You're not my mom! Get out, Freddy!"
"Nancy, don't be rude. I'm just helping you remember your mother's touch…"
The voice cut off. Silence.
Bang!
The door exploded inward.
Standing there was a man with white bone blades jutting from his arms—Barry.
"Looks like I showed up just in time. No time to explain—follow me!"
He grabbed Nancy's hand and pulled her along. She gasped in surprise.
"Joey! You're alive!"
"Abba-abba!" Joey gestured wildly, overcome with relief.
They ran to the master bedroom. Barry yanked open the closet door and climbed inside, with Nancy and Joey right behind him.
This time, they emerged into a dark, icy corridor.
There, the wizard-cloaked Will was in the middle of a fight—shooting lightning from his staff at an attacking wheelchair.
He was about to unleash his imagination full force, to finally destroy Freddy—
But no.
Freddy's will dominated the dream realm. He crushed Will's fantasy powers instantly.
"Let me shatter your imagination for you," Freddy sneered.
By the time Barry arrived, Freddy had one hand around Will's neck, lifting him off the ground like a doll.
The next move would've been a fatal strike straight to the heart—
But Freddy hesitated.
Then, with a twisted grin, he tossed Will aside and disappeared—off to the next dream.
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