A/N: Just enjoy for my sanity :)

Diclaimer: I do not own Child's Play but I do own Lucinda and any other characters that come by during the story. Copyright © 2013.

The Serial Killer's Daughter

~oOo~

You would think that a ten year old would be cheerful, good, outgoing, sociable, and colorful. But not me. I'm dark, mysterious, and love to keep to myself. I have a slight tan skin color. Big dark blue, a perfect cherubic face, small button nose, small ears and full sized lips for my age. That maybe because I got my period around seven. I don't know. Mother Nature are full of suprises. My raven black hair ran straight in the beginning then halfway it curls in natural ringlets and side bangs that can cover my left eye. Crimson streaks colored in my hair. My body was also grown for my age, again Mother Natures' doing. B cup size breasts, small waist, flat stomach, growing hips, small ass, and of course my legs. I wore only black make-up and crimson red lip gloss. My aura is dark. I love to see people shiver in fear and run when i glance or glare at you.

My name is Lucinda Lee Ray and I'm the daughter of one of the most notorious slashers in history, Charles Lee Ray, now named Chucky. My mom, his girlfriend, Tiffany Lee Ray who was pregnant with me for about three months until she found out and wanted to tell my father but the problem was that he was killed that very night.

~oOo~

Tonights' night was very dark and cloudly. A rainstorm was brewing. I was walking towards my resident home in the trailer park when the storm suddenly has gotten rougher. I was about half a minute later that it calmed down. I shrugged at the bipolar weather conditions and made it to my house and unlocked the door. I opened it and stepped inside just in time to see my voodoo book fly at me. I skillfully bent backwards to avoid it from hitting my face.

"Well hello to you too, mom." I snarked sarcastically with a smile as she stood up from the floor. she patted dust off of her and smiled at me.

"Hey sweetie, how was your walk?" She asked, lighting up a cigarette.

"Wet." I flashed my teeth cheekily. A small black figure on the floor caught my eye. I was a stitched up good guy doll. Which makes it ironically hotter cause' I think scars are hot but this might be my father so that is kind of gross.

"Mom?" I caught her attention. I pointed at the doll.

"Yes sweet face, it's him." She frowned now. "The stupid chant didn't work."

My face fell. So I don't get to meet my dad. I sighed and shrugged off my black trench coat, stepping over the doll. My hair is still dripping with water and I shoke it out, rubbing it with my black fingerless glove covered hands. I was walking to the small bedroom about to change. What I didn't know was that something that was about 2 feet tall and had small footsteps was trailing after me. I slipped of my black boots and undressed, throwing on a huge black Kiss T-shirt. I pulled down the right sleeve that had gotten stuck over my tattoo. It was the 'Heart of Damballa'. I got it on my tenth birthday with some help of my mom of course. After putting on my fuzzy socks, I turned to the bed and blinked. There sitting on the bed facing me was the doll that inhabited my dads' dormant soul. I blinked once again and shook my head walking out of the room. My necklace dangled under my shirt. it was beautiful. It was personally made for me. It was written in pure gold letters. It said 'Chucky's Little Girl' in cursive. It had black diamonds incrested in it. I have never taken it off. Only when I take a shower it comes off.

Loud knocks startled me out of my thoughts. I detoured to where the kitchen was, knowing my mom was going to answer it. A voice rang out in the trailer loud and clear.

"Hey Tiffany!"

I sighed harshly in annoyance. At the door, probably being soaked by the continuing rain, was my mom's boyfriend. I didn't like it him. Nor the other men my mom has brought home. I tolerated them...to an extent. I went to the stove and stood slightly on my toes to look in the pot. My eyes brightened. It was my absolute favorite food to eat. Swedish meatballs.

"What do you want?" I heard my mom asking. I took a fork and took a meatball. After I popped it in my mouth I moaned at the flavor.

"C'mon, let me in. I'll catch my death out here." I snorted at that, coughing a little when I choked. Oh the irony of that statement!

"Promises, promises."

I can hear that she let him in. My moms' heels clicked and there was an extra noise of footsteps after her. I huffed and grabbed another meatball, my mood incredibly soured.

"Whoo! So hey, how was your day?" Damien, mom's boyfriend, asked.

"Same old, same old."

"Hey Lucinda." Damien called to me. I turned around to face him and grunted in response, snatching a napkin and wiped my mouth. I went and dumped it in the trash.

"So check it out." Paper being flopped in the air. Maybe a photo or something. "Check it out." Damien insisted

"What is it?" Mom asked.

"You mean 'Who is it?'"

"Who is it?" Mom said mocking him a little.

"You mean 'Who was it?" Sighing again, i went to the fridge and got the orange juice carton and plucked my cup out of the cabinet then poured myself a glass. My cup was fully black with a red heart and a cross inside it. I took a couple sips then stopped when I heard small ast footsteps behind me. I turned around to see nothing and looked around, confusion clear on my face. I shrugged and went to the only couch in the home, plopping down on it softly, being mindful of the beverage in my hand. I snickered to myself when mom started screeching at her boyfriend.

"You didn't actually kill anyone did you? Did you?! Did you, you pathetic worm!" I held in a snort when she tossed a photo at his head, watching as it bounced off his head. I put my drink down on the small table and snatched up my comforter that was bunched at the edge of the couch, drawing it over my small form. I curled into a ball and shut my eyes, tuning out the noises. Next thing, it was lights out for me.

~oOo~

I was sleeping peaceful, until someone decided to rudely wake me up. I heard sinister laughter and someone screaming bloody murder. I knew it was Damien because he was screaming for my name as well as my moms', asking for help, for what, I didn't have the slightest clue nor did I give a flying damn. I closed my eyes to try and block them out but it did not work. I sat up with a snarl and flung my comforter off my body. Hopping of the couch, I stomped to my mom's bedroom. I was still half asleep and my eyes were squinted but I knew if I had an outside view, you would see my hair all crazy, eyes crusted with sleep and mouth twisted in an ugly scowl. My head poked between the ajar curtains for my mom's room.

"Oh for shit's sake, will you all shut the fuck up! I'm tryna get my damn sleep and you laughing like you missed your loony pills or you, Damien, screaming for my name, is not helping one damn bit. Just shut up or get the fuck out!" I was cranky and pissed. Not a good combination. Everything suddenly went quiet except for the storm and thunder. I huffed and moved away from the curtains, stomping back to my makeshift bed. I was grumbling the whole way. Once I was covered in my comforter, my grumbling went down to a minimum and I was asleep again. It felt like hours but alas it was only minutes before I was being shaken awake. I mumbled under my breath and my hand shot out from my cacoon, swatting at whatever was shaking me.

"Leave me alone. I wanna sleep." I whined when the hands were shaking me again. My eyes cracked open. A blur was in front of me. After a few moments my vision cleared and I see my mom's face close to mine. She smiled when she succeeded and had my attention.

"Sorry about all of the noise before sweetie, c'mere." She sat by my head and pulled me in her lap. I snuggled in her neck. "Lucy, don't go to sleep yet. There's someone who wants to meet you and you said that you wanted to meet them too." I pulled back and fully opened my eyes slowly, looking at my mom in confusion. A movement on the couch caught my eye. Now I was locked in another staring contest with the same scarred doll that somehow made it into the bedroom while I was changing. But it was different this time. The doll's eyes weren't glassy and fake. It was full of life and emotions.

"Lucy, I'd like you to meet Chucky." My mom introduced. Me and the doll, Chucky, were still trapped in a staring contest. "Chucky, I'd like you to meet Lucy, your ten year old daughter."

This was my dad. And he was alive. I murmured one word that broke our staring contest.

"Daddy."

~oOo~

A/N: Review for me please. I won't do that crap by asking for a certain number of reviews to post a new chapter. It's getting old and stupid.

Dark Wolf