I'm Chucky, the Killer Doll

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Note: This one-shot was requested by my girlfriend, L.J-1983.

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If this is what it takes to be human, then I'd rather take my chances as a supernaturally possessed doll! It's much less complicated! Think about it! What's so great about being human? You get sick! You get old! As a doll, I'm infamous!

I am Chucky! The killer doll!

(Chucky, 2004)

This place was now a sight the ruthless killer Charles Lee Ray knew very well. Time and time again he was brought back and tortured beyond comprehension within the hallowed halls of the Labyrinth, homeworld of the Cenobites and their god, Leviathan.

His screams of pain would constantly fill the thick air of despair, joined along with the millions of other sinful souls that the Cenobites tormented with delight and pleasure. However, unlike all the others who would beg for death's release to take them away from this place. Charles, aka Chucky, wanted to leave this place another way, alive and well.

He'd done it before, he would never give up until he's left here for good and hopefully get his human body back that he lost all those years ago. Even in what he thought was Hell, his body still resembled that of an innocent child's doll. But as long as he could bleed and feel pain, the Cenobites saw no reason why they should change him back. The mental anguish was an added bonus for them and their leader, Xipe Totec, or as Chucky had nicknamed him, Pinhead.

Chucky despised the Lead Cenobite greatly. He would always be the first to inflict the torture on the doll, ever since he first greeted the many chains that would pierce his body. Pinhead was not too fond of Charles either. He saw him as nothing more than a simple killer, who had a helping hand thanks to the powers of the supernatural no mortal like Charles should have known.

Yet, despite the wisdom that Pinhead possessed the one thing he could never quite grasp from Charles was his motivation. He knew why he was a serial killer. The man had a horrible childhood and was a fame seeker, willing even to take the lives of others to get it. That he understood, but once Chucky was trapped in the body of a doll, that's when the Lead Cenobite became puzzled, a rarity indeed.

And he could tell that even Charles was not fully sure about what he was after, so Pinhead would be sure to show Charles just what he had, but of course was too naïve to see it as a gift.

Chucky was in his chamber, hooked up to the wall, his feet hovering just above the floor. He couldn't tell night from day, he could have been trapped in here for years and think of it as just a few days. Hell is immortal just like the soul. He'd be trapped here forever. But Chucky was already thinking of ways to escape, he's done so before, although most times before it would be the unintentional doing of others that he would be brought back.

His Good Guy Doll clothes were in tatters, his plastic skin almost ripped apart as fresh blood still dripped down from the wounds and his facial scars that were ever so slowly opened up. He was breathing heavily. He needed to. Not for survival, but just so he wouldn't go insane from the never-ending silence, he needed sound to keep him on the right level, unlike all the other 'victims' here.

Blinded almost immediately as the doors to his chamber opened, causing a blinding blue light to erupt around the room. His eyes were saved as the silhouette of Pinhead blocked out the light, but this didn't ease Chucky's mood as he thought this would be his torture time. After a few seconds where the light was still so bright Chucky couldn't even flicker open his eyelids, the doors to the chambers shut tightly. Finally, Chucky could gaze upon the intimidating figure of the tall, dark, pinheaded demon in front of him.

Pinhead's expression was emotionless as usual. However, what intrigued Chucky was that he was carrying no weapons of torture with him this time. Perhaps this was just a ploy, getting the doll's hopes up before he begins the slice and dice. But still nothing, Pinhead stood there, still and silent.

Chucky became more than a little impatient was this and sighed heavily, even though Pinhead would always have him under his control, the serial killer never lost his witty, sarcastic but dark humour. ''What's wrong Pinhead? Accidently cut out your own tongue?''

Pinhead simply smirked at Chucky's attempt at an insult, but still said nothing. Chucky was becoming more curiosity with what the Cenobite had planned, but still had a few more words to get out. ''Let's just make this quick, okay? I've got a hot date to pick up tonight. Just don't tell the wife, she gets all moody and shit every time I bring home a bird and she walks in and finds us. It's always all Chucky you loved me this, and Chucky you loved me that…''

''You've become so isolated in this chamber, you yearn for the voice of others, so you speak more as if they were others,'' Pinhead said calmly.

''Hey, I don't need no one, you got that porcupine face! All I do need is that blasted kid to get out of this God-damn body!'' Chucky grunted.

This was the conversation that Pinhead was looking for, and so he approached the killer doll until he was standing right in front of him. ''Why do you want the sorrows of flesh to return?''

''Do you know how hard it is for anyone to understand you when you talk all subtext like that?'' Chucky replied tiredly.

''The body of Adam. The blood of wine. You wish to be human and acquire all its faults, this has always intrigued me about you, Charles.''

''What?'' The doll shrugged. ''I want to be human again! How can that be hard to understand? I miss it!''

''Do you now?''

''Of course, I do!'' He shouted. ''You have no idea how frustrating it is to be inside this body. I can't-do anything! Here, let me put it in words you understand. You and your posse are all about that bondage and kinky shit, well how do you expect me to get with the ladies when I'm stuck like this?''

''Yes, the pleasures of flesh are hard for you to come by now. Flesh not being the right word for you.''

''Oh did Pinhead just tell a joke there!'' Chucky laughed half hysterical and half insane. ''Hey everyone! Pinhead told a joke!'' He shouted as loudly as he could, with all the air his lungs had…then again did he even have lungs anymore? Another thing that Chucky hated about this doll body, could he even call it a body?

''I believe you are forgetting your own wife.''

''What? Tiff? Well, yeah, that's because I turned her into a doll too, a lot of good that did me. Stupid bitch got me killed…again! Then got our own son to kill me…again!''

''Oh Charles,'' Pinhead continued almost sympathetically. ''A killer, an infamous legend, so experienced yet so limited in their vision. You are blind to what you truly have. I have always been confused about what it is you seek. Now I know it is because you are nothing more than a blind man walking down a path that goes on as far as the steps of this very Labyrinth! You have found it hard to distinguish between what you want, and what you need!''

''I know what I need and want, to get the hell out of this place!'' Chucky responded. ''What are you even doing here anyway? Is that your torture move for the day, talk me to agony?''

''I am here to show you!'' Was all Pinhead said before turning to walk back towards the door to the chamber.

''Wait, wait, show me what?'' Chucky called out.

The doors to the chamber opened yet again. This time, the blinding blue light was replaced by a piercing white light that made Chucky winced. Yet as he tried to close his eyes, he found that he couldn't, he was being forced to look into the light. Pinhead could still clearly be seen as he turned to Chucky, that cold smile still plastered on his face. ''Show you what you already have, yet take for granted!'' Suddenly, the white light that Chucky stared into was changing, it was like watching a movie, only Chucky could feel everything, from the cold wind to the screeching sounds. Pinhead was forcing him to experience something, something very familiar…

It was night. Chucky was running along a dark, empty street. Gun in one hand as guns shots fired above him. He felt different somehow, as he was running he could tell something was off. Everything seemed smaller than before, and he seemed to be running a bit slower and heavier. He stopped and took cover around the corner of some shop before looking over himself and realising what was happening, he was in his body, his old human body.

BANG! BANG!

Bullets blasted against the corner, Charles looked around and saw his former adversary Detective Mike Norris firing shots at him while taking cover behind a car. This was that night! The night Charles almost died, and when he took the body of a little Good Guy doll. Once the realisation of what this was came to Chucky, he could no longer control his thoughts or motions, instead, it now felt more like a dream he was watching as Charles made a run for it while Norris stopped to reload.

Charles sprinted as fast as he could, no longer worrying about taking shots at the detective, all he wanted to do was escape…and eventually, he did. Ducking in and out of alleyways in different streets, he soon lost the detective and the patrol car that was with him. Chucky knew now what this truly was that he was watching. He was never shot, so didn't need the body, this must be what his life would have been like if he got away, that's what Pinhead was showing him.

It really did feel like a dream, as Chucky consistently fell in and out of what was going on. He got brief glimpses of what was happening to his other self as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months and eventually years. He watched as his killing spree was ground to a halt with the increase in forensic technology, something that never bothered him as a doll because he could never be matched for thumbprints or skin molecules as a doll.

He could no longer kill, and the thrill of it was abandoning him, he could feel his other self's depression sinks in. It was all he was ever good at and he was unable to do it anymore without risking capture or death. And unlike his doll self, he wasn't as indestructible, all it would take was one lucky bullet and that would be the end for good.

And Tiffany?

He watched as Tiffany became increasingly frustrated with what was going on with Charles. Because of the lack of violence, he could inflict on others, he started targeting Tiffany more and more often until she had enough and finally left, without a single word. The woman, who loved him so much that even when he killed her and brought her back as a doll still stayed with him, was gone from his life. She was the only one that understood him, no other woman would go near his more deranged state, and he could never be with another woman now.

Then there was the drinking.

He never realised it at first, although he hated his body because of the lack of internal organs that could actually be his advantage for when he was drinking. As a doll he could never get drunk, he could drink to his heart's content, but he never had a real heart either so he could drink some more. But as a human, he would drink too much and constantly feel weaker.

Then came the jealousy.

As he would hang around bars he would hear the rumours from some of his old mates about other killers that were seemingly immortal. He would hear about some hockey mask-wearing killer that's killed over a hundred people near a summer camp. And a Halloween time killer that's managed to terrorise a town for over two decades and kill their entire police force, twice. Freddy, Jason, Michael, Ghostface, they were just a few of the many legends that grew over time. But Charles was not one of them, he was just one of the serial killers that people would fear from a brief moment in time then be forgotten.

Finally, Chucky watched on to see his other self-loathing and pitying himself as he sat on a bench near some old train station. A tramp now begging for money, the only use for his weapons now was to open old cans of beans and unlock doors to a warehouse so he could shelter for the night. Charles noticed a group of people gathering but didn't bother to see just who they were. He lifted his arm up suggesting for money when it didn't come he looked up and was greeted with the sight of Detective Norris and a group of officers all with guns and batons ready.

Norris quickly handcuffed Charles while his begging arm was still up. ''We got you now you bastard!'' The detective whispered with the tone of a soldier that has just survived and won the war.

''Stop!'' Chucky screamed.

The visions before him faded, and reality was brought back around him. Still hooked up to the wall with Pinhead standing in front of him, a wide but calm grin on his face as Chucky breathed heavily and in a panicked state. ''Hold on, you're telling me that's what would have happened if…if…''

''You have created a following that has built statues in your honour, and yet you yourself break apart the foundations they were built on for your sheer lack of understanding what you have accomplished. Now you know, now you understand!'' With that said, Pinhead turned to leave Chucky in his chamber.

''Wait!'' Chucky called out before Pinhead fully left. ''How do I know that's really what would have happened? How do I know it was real? This could all be in my mind!''

''Of course, it was in your mind, but why would it not be real?'' The Cenobite asked. ''And it would be foolish to taste that sweet scent of your suffering of what could have been!''

Finally, Pinhead stepped out into the blinding light as the doors to the chamber closed firmly, leaving Chucky to gather his thoughts in his dark lonely chamber.

''I'm better off in this body?'' Chucky mumbled to himself. ''No, no, okay, okay, come on Chucky, do a list. Okay, list of things you've accomplished before you turned into a doll…I was the Lakeshore Strangler, an uprising serial killer…and…and uh…'' He puzzled on about everything he's done before all this supernatural happened.

But then he realised until he started learning about the occult and dark magic, he was just an ordinary killer like many before, such as Ed Gein or Ted Bundy. Not wanting to get carried away he shook his head and got his thoughts together. ''Okay, list after you became a doll…killed lots of new people, and had a hell of a time doing it, cheated death loads of times, struck terror into the lives of children everywhere who owned a doll and got away with it all!''

Then it hit him, all those things he saw in the vision. The first one, he couldn't kill anyone anymore because of improving technology, but he was no longer human so that didn't apply to him. He was still with Tiffany even started a family until they killed him. He couldn't over drink or overeat, and the ranks of killers he can be compared to were in another league compared to other 'ordinary' killers.

''I'm better off in this body!'' He stated to himself, whispering at first before his tone of voice rose. ''I'm better off as a doll, I've done so much more, I'm a freakin legend. I'm immortal! I'm just as good as any of those other Freddy or Jason couch potatoes. Chucky the doll is ten times the killer Charles the Strangler was!''

He looked forward towards where the opening to the chamber was, shouting out to it. ''Hey Pinhead, don't think this epiphany's going to change me? I'm still going to bust out of here. You punks know why? Cause I know who I am! I'm Chucky! You hear me? I'm Chucky, the fucking killer doll!'' He laughed maniacally.

The End!

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