I love the Power Glove... it's so bad.

Cornelius lay on the bunk, thinking of his family... he'd seen below, the hats had retaken the future... He shuddered as to what that meant for his family, before trying to sleep and get it off his mind. He faded off into a dream...

...and Freddy smiled. In dreams, he had power... but this one was special. He didn't want to kill the man, not yet. He was to be his vessel in the mortal realms...

He chuckled. He knew just the nightmare for Cornelius...

...He was home. Everything looked okay, the house was the house, it was alright. He rushed forward, into his house. He picked up Wilbur in a hug, and turned to his wife, and then realized precisely why there was no greetings... They all had hats... but something was different. These were no bowlers... they were fedoras...

"...Franny?" he said tentatively.

"You left us, Cornelius," she said in a mildly disgusted tone, "we were in trouble and you turned tail and ran."

"...It wasn't like that. There was this Dictator, he-"

"Stow your excuses, Lewis," she spat.

"Honey, I-"

"Don't you honey me!"

She was changing, in demeanor, and appearance, as she stepped in a shadow...

Freddy stepped from the shadow, approaching Cornelius, grinning.

"You're the lucky one... I picked you to scope out fresh souls..."

He backed the inventor to a wall, and grabbed his right hand.

"You don't... and you will die..."

Freddy scratched a message on Cornelius' arm-
"I own you, bitch."

He put the glove on Cornelius, and his own hand raised it to his throat.

"Remember that," Freddy said, "and sweet dreams..."

Cornelius jolted awake, in a cold sweat.

"...Thank god," he said, "it was just a..."

He looked down, saw the glove and his bleeding arm, and felt a fear he'd never known... He screamed in terror.