Son of 100 Maniacs

In the shadows of dreams, where nightmares creep,
He walks with whispers, where the lost souls weep.
A gloved hand glistens, claws of steel,
The son of 100 maniacs, a fate to seal.

In a world where innocence meets the dark,
His laughter echoes, a haunting spark.
From Elm Street's silence, he claims the night,
Chasing the lost in their desperate flight.

Children once cherished, now shadows of fear,
With every scream, he draws ever near.
In the labyrinth of slumber, he wields his scorn,
A master of terror, from nightmares reborn.

Behind those burnt eyes lies a tragic tale,
A mother’s revenge, a heart turned pale.
Yet in the abyss, there's a flicker of pain,
A twisted existence where sanity wanes.

Dreams once filled with laughter now drown in despair,
As he sculpts their fears with a merciless stare.
But can darkness thrive without a glimmer of light?
Or will the son of 100 maniacs fade into night?

So remember his name when you close your eyes,
For in the realm of slumber, the monster will rise.
A legacy woven in terror and dread,
The son of 100 maniacs, where innocence bled.