Well, A Nightmare on Elm Street is getting a remake, reboot, requel, what have you. Everyone is throwing around their best ideas for adding something new to the myth. Man, there are some good ones. That brought to mind my story The Dream Demon. See, I wrote this for an anthology dedicated to horror tropes, edited by the great Brandon Applegate. I focused on how entities like Freddy Krueger use dreams to kill, but ignore the vast potential of having access to the subconscious. So, consider my story, the tale of Eddy Williams, the Boogeyman of Baylor Street, my little pitch. Enjoy:
The Dream Demon
Ruth exhaled after her tenth deep breath. She calmed her heart rate and closed her eyes. Sleep enveloped her and she sunk into the mire. She was going in. Sabrina guzzled coffee, the cup cool enough she didn’t need to sip. She perched on the arm of the couch, watching Ruth’s breathing steady, her exhales grow coarse as she slept for the first time in at least three days.
On the floor by the couch, Brett coughed and hacked. He put the cigarette to his lips again.
“Jesus, Brett, you gotta do that in here? And since when do you smoke?”
“I dunno.” Brett coughed. “When do I help my friends catch a dream demon?”
“Just help me watch her. Make sure I don’t fall asleep.”
“You want one of these?” Brett asked, handing a lit cigarette to Sabrina.
“Fuck off, and that’s an old man brand too.”
The story is simple. Ten years ago, Edward Williams, a janitor at the high school, murdered several children. The official number is twelve. The unofficial? That depends on who is telling the story. Some say he filled graveyards, snatching children from their homes with intel taken from the school’s files. He tortured them in a makeshift chamber near the school’s boiler room, then decapitated them with a machete, one he carved into shape that resembled a row of teeth.
The Hound, he called it. Always hungry.
* * *
Ruth woke up in the halls of her school. Cold and barren, a rolling fog flowing around her. She sat up and could hear the tapping, the blade being knocked against the lockers. A child laughed. She could see Amber, her little sister. Barely four, she giggled and waved.
“Amber!” Ruth screamed. She bounded to her feet and dove to her sister, who vanished.
“You said—,” Ruth started to say.
“Ah-ah-ah,” a deep voice boomed, the walls shook. “I always keep my end of the bargain. Amber is safe now. Playing in a meadow or riding a unicorn or some shit. But Ruth, you’ve been busy, haven’t you?”
Ruth started to run, her head on a swivel. He liked to jump out at them, appear suddenly with the blade raised above him. The one lodged into the perpetually bleeding stump of his right hand. Ed Williams. The Boogeyman of Baylor Street.
* * *
Ruth shifted in her sleep, she grumbled and turned over.
“Now?” Brett asked.
“Not yet,” Sabrina said. Her hands gripped the handle of the baseball bat.
“The traps are set,” Brett said. He tied a bandana around his head and punched a fist into the palm of his other hand. “Time to suit up.”
* * *
The lockers and plaster walls gave way to stone, slick with water and dripping slime. The ground beneath her became uneven, like cobblestones. The stones were light and clattered with every step. She glanced down. Bones. Of course.
The air grew thick, a poisonous cloud that made her retch and threatened to take her before Williams’ blade had the chance.
“Where are you, Ed?” Ruth cried out. “I’m right here! Come and get me, you piece of shit! You hear that, Ed?”
A hand landed on her shoulder, the fingers digging into her skin. A rot breath in her ear, and a voice that haunted her since childhood.
“I prefer Eddy.”
* * *
Ruth tossed and turned. She screamed. Her arms rose and then wrapped around something unseen, pulling it close.
“Now!” Sabrina screamed.
Brett threw on the armored vest he’d made from military surplus gear, and lifted a sledge hammer. He wished he could have grabbed one of the guns Ruth’s dad owned, but Ruth insisted they wouldn’t work. She knew about Williams more than anyone, being the last survivor of his rampage ten years ago. She was only six then. Brett and Sabrina moved into the neighborhood the year before, aware of the story of Ed Williams, but unaware that Ed returned.
They lost six classmates in a week, murdered in their beds by an assailant who left no clues. Of course, twice that number went down in the mass shootings that bookended the week, so even in their own town no attention was paid, no solutions offered. They were on their own, and utterly doomed.
Until Ruth said she had an idea.
Sabrina screamed as Ruth opened her eyes and the boogeyman himself materialized in her arms. Ruth kicked herself from under him, and he rose slowly to look at them. He chuckled and removed his faded fedora with his remaining hand. His tattered coat clung to him, his clothes stunk of wet earth and death. He saluted them with the blade, shining brilliantly in the bloody stump of his other hand.
“Nice to meet you all. Thank you for welcoming me into your humble abode.”
In their dreams, he was their worst fears. You couldn’t outrun him, your legs wouldn’t work. You couldn’t fight him, he’d slow your fists so they landed harmlessly against his cheek. He could be your monster, your loved ones, he could do unspeakable things in the guise of the ones you loved the most.
The worst were the good dreams. The visions of a better world. He laughed the loudest in those. Whatever damage he wrought would follow you into the waking world.
And you could do nothing. But in the real world? He’d be a man again. Vulnerable.
From behind him, Brett rushed forward with the sledge hammer. But Williams threw his hand out and shoved the blade into the boy’s stomach. He then turned slowly to smile at the boy.
“The hound has been awful hungry.”
Brett dropped the hammer and choked, blood rushing from his mouth. He looked into the milky eyes of Eddy Williams. The killer’s face was a mass of scar tissue, his lips torn away from one side to expose his yellow teeth. His hair was nothing but scattered tuffs.
“Admiring their handiwork? Those grieving parents showed me that anyone can be a monster with the right inclination. And I gave them a hell of an inclination.”
He opened his mouth, wider and then wider. Voices, children, crying out for mercy and their mothers.
“Brett!” Sabrina cried.
Ruth pulled her friend away. “We have to hide, right fucking now!”
“How — how did he know? He stabbed Brett before he even saw him!”
While they fled upstairs, Williams gently put his hand around Brett’s throat and squeezed.
“Ah, there it is! I can feel every tendon, every muscle, fighting for life. This is better than any dream, Brett! You brought me out here because I would be weak? Bitch, what do you think I was doing before they killed me? I was wasting teenagers!”
Brett choked, a loud pop in his neck caused his body to grow limp. Williams released his grip and allowed the body to slide off his blade.
“Goddamn, I need a cigarette.” He looked at Brett, and reached down to grab one from the pack in the front pocket of Brett’s armored vest. “What do you know? My brand! Girls, give Eddy a few minutes. I’m not seventeen, can’t really do the back-to-back performances anymore.”
* * *
Upstairs, Ruth shut the door to her room. Sabrina sobbed on the floor. Ruth sprinted to her closet and threw it open. She dragged her friend into the closet with her.
“Shh, you gotta be quiet now. Just be quiet. We gotta hide. He might just leave.”
“Brett. You said we could kill him.”
“We can!” Ruth hissed. “He’s vulnerable out here.”
A boom and a hole punched into the closet door above them. Splintered wood rained down on them. The acrid scent of the fired gun hung in the air. They screamed and dropped down, bringing clothes and hangers down on top of them.
“Girls! Guess who’s dad doesn’t lock his gun safe!”
Williams racked another round, the spent casing bouncing off the carpet. “I haven’t used one of these since I went hunting with my dad. He was a shit hider too!”
Williams roared with laughter and stepped closer and closer to the closet door, kicking away clothes that littered the ground. He dropped the gun and used the blade on his right hand to open the door inch at a time, letting the hinges squeal. Ruth and Sabrina sat on the floor. Ruth trying to push Sabrina behind her.
“Ah, protecting your friends. You never told them about our little arrangement, did you?”
“Shut the hell up, Williams!” Ruth said.
“Sabrina! My darling. Terrified of dogs. Your neighbor had a mean one. But you don’t tell people that. Oh! You did tell someone recently.”
“Shut up!” Ruth cried. She stood, but Williams shoved the blood-streaked hound toward her.
“Sit down before you fall down.”
“Ruth?” Sabrina asked. “I told you. I told you about the dreams…”
“And that was the key! I can’t get into your heads without a key. Without knowing a fear. And Ruth here gathered intel on all her classmates.”
“He threatened to kill Amber! He said he would torture her!” Ruth cried.
“You were my last victim originally, but your parents stopped me. I saw the look in your eyes before they drug me away and knew you had only one fear. Me. But I needed more.”
“You killed us,” Sabrina stammered. “You killed us! This was all a trick!”
“No! Ruth sobbed. “No, I thought we could, I thought we could. That’s why I went in, I risked it, not you! I thought we could beat him!”
Williams laughed. “And that idea, did it just come to you? Dreams are a path to the subconscious, and you can plant lots of things there. Even your favorite brand of cigarette.”
“You knew?” Ruth asked.
“Knew?” Williams giggled. He pressed the side of the blade to Ruth’s cheek. “It was my idea. It’s not the same in dreams. I need flesh. Like how the worst sex is better than the best wet dream. I needed out again.”
“What happens now?”
“Now?” Williams stepped back. He reached behind him and plucked a hunting knife from a sheath and tossed it on the floor by Ruth. “You’re going to kill her. Then we’re going to take this show on the road!”
“Never!” Ruth spat. She glanced down to see Sabrina inching away from her, deeper into the closest, struggling against the clothes.
“It’s her. Or them. All of them.”
They stood there. Ruth looking into the clouded eyes and gnarled face of Eddy Williams, and Eddy staring at the face of a girl with everything to lose, ready to compromise once more.
Ruth picked up the knife. Sabrina started to beg. Ruth turned around to look down on her friend. She whispered an apology.
“Now say it!” Ed Williams said.
“No,” Ruth said, her voice cracking.
“Say. It.”
Ruth raised the knife. “Sweet dreams.”
I know it has barely been a year since I published my collection Mad Days, but in that time, I grew to despise the cover. Just… hated the damn thing. Which is why I changed it. This is from an interior illustration, made the blood tears red for a pop of color. I think it looks better! Ebook is still just $1.99. You can find it on Amazon, Kobo, and Bookshop.
I had my first book signing at the new indie bookstore in Shawnee, Lost Pages Bookstore. Owned and operated by indie author Steven Wedel, the bookstore has a wide selection that’s growing every day. I had a great time, old friends drove hours to see me and get some books signed, and that meant so much. I have some other events on the horizon too, including the Shawnee Indie Author Showcase next month, and Authorcon in 2027. Maybe I will see you there!
June 16th marks the 10th anniversary of In Search of the Nobility, TX Wildman‘s publication! It’s been a long, strange road for this one. Not quite horror, the novella is more of a literary comedy about failure and existential terror. Maverick Casey’s search for Bigfoot can be a metaphor for every goal you’ve put everything into, but still come up short. This started as a short film script. Later, when staying at a playwriting retreat in Virginia, I made it into a full-length play. Called In Search of the Amherst County Wildman, it managed a couple of readings (one of which is currently still on YouTube somewhere). 2016 I made it into a novel.
My third kids book with Cemetery Gates Media is out now! Here’s the description:
Wildcat Thicket is out now in ebook and paperback! 
Hey, so I used to have my books far and wide through Draft2Digital and Barnes and Noble Press. But Draft2Digital decided to add annual fees (fuck that) and Barnes and Noble decided to set a minimum price for paperbacks, which was higher than the price I wanted to set (fuck that). So, I dropped both. But! In looking at the sales reports, I sold maybe two books through B&N, and all my Draft2Digital sales were through Kobo and Overdrive/Libby. So, I cut out the middleman!
Rocky Capuano of 