*comes out of a door halfway through a conversation*
...I know, right? He's a conformist asshole! Seriously!
Oh. Uh...hey, Directioners! What? No, I was NOT talking smack about Harry Styles. Pfft, why...why would you even think that?
Okay, on we go!
The plot for this story was thought up by muse of sufferings, so it is not my original work. This guy gave me two genius plots to work with, and seeing as I'm home alone for the entire day, I have enough time to write both! Yay!
Okay. On with the boring bit. I OWN NISH. NISH, YOU HEAR ME? Good.
Bye, and hope you enjoy! And a special shout out to muse of sufferings, without whom I would still be staring at a blank page! Thank you! :D
'Dad, do the monster under my bed again!'
'No, honey, seriously. Daddy has to go to bed now. I'm tired.'
Glenda sighed but nodded. She took her covers from her father, none other than Charles Lee "Chucky" Ray, the infamous Lakeshore Strangler. And what was this famed killer doing playing Monsters with his 9 year old daughter? Honestly, nobody knows.
'Okay, Dad.' Said Glenda in her Cockney accent. She leaned over to the ginger doll and gave him a kiss on the cheek, before lying on her back and snuggling down. Chucky looked down at her and smiled. He took after her in every way. From the collection of butcher's knives on her shelves to her shock of ginger hair. He leant down and kissed her on the head. 'Night, honey. Sweet dreams.'
He stepped down from the stack of books he was standing on and crossed over to Glenda's twin brother, Glen, who was still up reading a Shakespeare transcript.
'Come on, Glen, it's night time now. Lights out.'
Glen sighed just like his sister and stacked the book above his bed on his overflowing bookshelf. He then kissed his father on the doll's stitched up cheek. 'Night, Dad.' He said in his adorable English accent. 'Night, Glen. Have a nice sleep.'
Chucky tucked the covers in around Glen and leapt down off the chair. He looked back at the sleeping twins before closing the door and rubbing his eyes. He was tired after a whole day killing. His muscles just weren't doing it for him anymore. He wasn't terribly old, he knew he could keep killing until he was on his deathbed. Then he was fucked.
As he went back to his bedroom, he heard small whimpering noises from inside. Hmmm... was tonight not going to be so bad after all?
He peeked his face around the door to see Tiffany asleep, whimpering slightly. Dang. He was really hoping for a night of fun. He tiptoed over to the bed and slid in beside her. Maybe she was just having a nightmare. They happened often, but he didn't really take them seriously. He closed his eyes and immediately fell asleep.
...
'N-no...'
Chucky stirred but did not wake.
'...Please...No...'
Chucky rubbed his eyes and opened them. He looked around with red, sleep deprived eyes at the clock. It read 4.30 in the morning. 'Huh?' He wondered what had woken him up, but then, it came again.
'Please...please! No!' Tiffany had started off moaning it, now it was significantly louder. 'G-get away from me!'
'Tiff?' Chucky sat up and looked at his wife. Slowly, she opened her eyes and came to look at Chucky. 'Honey, are you okay?'
Suddenly, Tiffany screamed and backed away from Chucky, arm held in front of her as if he was throwing all matter of objects at her. 'Tiff! What's wrong?' Chucky said, opened mouthed. Okay, now he was officially worried.
'Get away! Get away, Daddy! No! NO!'
'Tiff! Tiffany!' shouted Chucky, seizing her wrists. ' Tiffany, wake up! It's me!'
Tiffany stopped shouting and looked at Chucky. 'It's me.' Said Chucky, quietly.
' Chucky?' asked Tiffany, staring into his blue eyes. It really was him. He hadhad cold green ones. 'Where am I?'
'On the bedroom floor.' He realized he still had a hold of her wrists, and took her hand to help her up. ' Tiffany, what we're you dreaming about?'
Tiffany took his hand and got up, and back into bed. 'Him. My...my father.'
Chucky pulled her closer to him, so that now they were lying together. 'What was he doing?'
' He...He was doing horrible things...things that made me want to squirm. I tried to stop him...but...'
'You couldn't.' Chucky said, combing her hair with his fingers. 'Don't worry, Tiff. I'm here. Nobody's going to hurt you. Not even that bastard. I promise. I'll keep you safe.' He kissed the top of her head and Tiffany snuggled into him, a tear running down her powdered cheek. 'Goodnight, Chucky.'
'Night honey.' whispered Chucky, looking at the ceiling. 'Sweet dreams.'
And with that, they fell asleep in one another's arms, dreaming sweet dreams indeed.
