Chapter 2: Memories

Glenda sat at the dining room table, picking at the food on her plate with her fork. Glen looked at his sister from across the table, a bit worried. He knew why she was upset, but he didn't want to say anything. The family continued eating in silence for a few moments.

Tiffany sighed, "Glenda, you haven't even touched your dinner. What's wrong?"

Tiffany was Glen and Glenda's mother. She also happened to be the famous actress, Jennifer Tilly. This was because fourteen years ago, Tiffany transferred her soul into Jennifer's body with a voodoo spell. No one knows about this secret except for her two children and her ex-husband, and Tiffany likes to keep it that way. Because Tiffany poses as Jennifer Tilly, she and her children are very wealthy and famous. Tiffany loves the feeling of being a star, but her children always come first. She looked at her daughter with worried eyes; she knew something was troubling her.

"It's nothing," Glenda replied.

"Sweetheart, I know you. And I know something is on your mind. Now, what is it?" Tiffany asked.

Glenda looked up at her mother and sighed, "It's just that, I really miss dad,"

Tiffany buried her face in her hands, annoyed. She hated talking about her ex-husband to her kids, especially to Glenda, who always brings him up.

"Glenda," Tiffany began, "We've been over this a thousand times. Your father is dead and gone, and he is not coming back!"

"But, what if he does come back? I could use the voodoo spell to bring him back again. It worked before. I can tell you miss him too mom, don't deny it!" Glenda said, her voice growing louder.

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me, young lady! And don't you even think about bringing him back either. I know you miss him, honey, but bringing him back would not be a good idea."

"That's what I told her," Glen said, quietly.

Glenda shot a dirty look at her brother, "We weren't talking to you! So how about you just shut the fuck up?"

"Glenda!" Tiffany snapped.

Glen's eyes filled up with tears. He hated it when his mother and sister had this argument, and he especially hated ending up in the middle of it. He got up from his chair and ran upstairs to his room.

Glenda rolled her eyes.

Tiffany shook her head at Glenda, "Look, I don't what your problem is, but you better change your attitude, right now!"

Glenda stood up from her chair, "My problem is you and that big pussy you call my brother! Why don't you miss dad? Don't you want him in our lives again?"

"Glenda, of course I miss him. Of course I want him to come back, but it's just not that simple. You don't know your father like I do. He's-he's…"

"He's just like me!" Glenda finished.

The two stared at each other for a long moment, not saying anything. Tiffany knew Glenda missed her father, but she also knew that bringing him back would be a dangerous idea. It was true though, Tiffany did miss her ex-husband, Chucky. She may have even still felt some love for him, but she wouldn't admit it.

"Glenda, trust me. You are nothing like him," Tiffany lied. Of course Glenda was like him. Every time Tiffany looked at Glenda, she could see a bit of Chucky inside her.

Glenda didn't want to hear any more of it. She stormed away and went upstairs to her room. When she got there, she slammed her bedroom door shut. She turned around to see that the doll still hadn't moved from its spot. Glenda kicked the doll angrily across the room. She let out a frustrated scream. Why didn't the spell work? Why couldn't her mom understand her? These thoughts and more raced through Glenda's mind. She sighed, then walked over to her art easel on the other side of the room; painting always helped Glenda to calm down. She sat down on her stool and picked up a paintbrush. She dipped the brush in paint, and then with a steady hand, she slowly strokes the brush on the canvas. She began painting a picture of her and her father, brutally killing some helpless victims, by stabbing them and slitting their throats. Glenda smiled, pleased with her artwork. She then heard her door slowly open. Glenda turned her head to see her door was slightly cracked open.

Glenda growled, annoyed, "Glen! Leave me alone and quit spying on me!"

"I'm not doing anything!" Glen called back, from across the hall.

Glenda rolled her eyes and just ignored him. She then continued to work on her painting.

Downstairs, Tiffany began washing the dishes from their dinner. She was staring straight ahead at the wall, in deep thought. Her mind drifted off to the first time she had went killing with Chucky:

The year was 1980; eight years before Chucky had transferred his soul into the Good Guy doll. Tiffany was walking down a dark alley, on her way home from work. This was many years before she had transferred her soul into Jennifer Tilly's body. Tiffany's blonde hair was tied up in a neat bun on top of her head. She was wearing a short black dress with black leather boots. When she rounded the corner, she stopped in her tracks. Tiffany's eyes widen in shock at the scene she was witnessing. A man was getting his throat slashed by another man. Instead of calling for help, Tiffany just stood there in awe. She didn't move, and she didn't make a sound. She just watched as the killer let go of his victim, letting the man fall to the ground, dead. The killer looked vaguely familiar to Tiffany. He had long, brown hair and dark eyes. He was wearing a long, light brown coat, black gloves, and black boots. Tiffany soon recognized him as the famous Lakeshore Strangler she had heard about on the news. But there was something else about him that seemed familiar. Had they met before? Did they go to school together? Tiffany wasn't sure. The killer then took his knife and slowly licked some of the blood off of it. Tiffany couldn't help but find that somewhat attractive. The killer then turned his head and spotted Tiffany. She gasped as he began to walk over towards her. Tiffany was as still as a statue. She couldn't decide whether she should be afraid or not. As he came closer, her body tensed; preparing herself for the worst.

The killer pulled out his knife and pressed it against Tiffany's throat. She winced, as the blade cut into her skin. He looked into Tiffany's eyes and saw that they were full of fear. He didn't want to kill such a pretty face, but he also didn't want to leave any witnesses either. After a few moments, Tiffany finally realized who he was. She slowly opened her mouth, trying to find the courage to speak.

"Ch-Chucky?" Tiffany finally asked.

The man looked at her strangely, then slowly lowered his knife a little. "How do you know that name?"

It took him a moment to realize who she was.

"T-Tiff?" He asked.

Tiffany nodded.

Chucky smiled. He couldn't believe it. This woman standing in front of him was his old high school girlfriend. Tiffany also couldn't believe it. She had a lot of questions running through her mind, and she didn't know where to start. All of sudden, Chucky wrapped his arms tightly around her and hugged her. Tiffany wasn't sure what to do. She was still in shock from what she had just witnessed, and the surprised hug didn't help matters none.

Chucky pulled away from her. Tiffany must've had a confused looked on her face, because then Chucky looked down, embarrassed.

He chuckled, "Sorry, it's just that, I haven't seen you in so long. I just can't believe it's you!"

"It's fine," Tiffany nodded, "I can't believe this either. I haven't seen you years!" Tiffany then looked over at the dead body lying on the ground. She then looked back at Chucky.

"You've . . . changed," Tiffany wasn't sure what else to say. Chucky actually hadn't changed at all; not in appearance anyways. But, at the same time, he had changed. He wasn't the same Chucky Tiffany remembered from high school. She never in a million years thought he would kill anyone. But, yet, she had just witness him slitting a man's throat, just moments ago.

Chucky laughed, nervously, "Uhhh, haha, yeah. I guess I have."

"So you're the wanted Lakeshore Strangler? When did this start?" Tiffany asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know. Ever since you moved away, I sort of went a little crazy, I guess. Started getting in fights and beating people up, then it lead to this."

Tiffany looked over at the body once more, but instead of feeling afraid, she felt curious. She looked Chucky in the eye, "What's it like? Killing?"

Chucky raised an eyebrow, wondering why she would ask such a thing. He never took her for a killer.

"Well," he began, "It's-it's great! It's the most wonderful feeling in the world. The blood, the guts, the pure adrenaline. It's really hard to describe," Chucky pulled out his knife and held it out to Tiffany. "You wanna try it out for yourself?"

Tiffany stared at the knife. She knew this wrong. She knew she should've reported Chucky to the police. She knew this was all crazy. Maybe she was just crazy herself, but she didn't care. She took a deep breath, then held out her hand. Chucky slowly placed the knife in her palm. She griped the knife tightly in her hand, then she looked up at Chucky.

"Will you teach me?" she asked.

"Sure," he replied, "Follow me,"

Tiffany slowly followed Chucky. He led her behind a bar. Tiffany then started to panic.

"Wait, Chucky . . . I don't know if I can do this!" Tiffany said, chickening out. How could she kill somebody? She couldn't. Tiffany had never even hurt a fly.

"Tiff, you can do this. Trust me," Chucky said. He looked up and noticed a man was walking out of the bar. Chucky chuckled, "There you go! Kill that motherfucker!"

Chucky nudge Tiffany forward a little. "Do it!" He whispered.

Tiffany took a deep breath, griping the knife tightly in her hand. She then ran over to her victim. She began stabbing the man repeatedly in the back. The victim opened his mouth, to cry out for help; but no sound came out. Tiffany then pulled his head back and slit his throat. A shower of warm blood splattered all over Tiffany. She laughed evilly as she dropped the body; letting him fall to the ground, bleeding to death. Tiffany smiled. She couldn't believe it. She actually murdered someone!

Chucky laughed, "Haha, you did it, Tiff! I knew you would. How did it feel?"

Tiffany walked over to Chucky. She couldn't decide how it felt. Pride, anger, excitement, lust; all of these emotions and more were running through her body. "It was," Tiffany began, "Amazing!"

Chucky looked deep into her eyes and smiled, "No, you're amazing." He placed his hands on her face, then pulled her into a kiss . . .

***
"Hey, Tiff," A voice called, snapping Tiffany out of her thoughts.

Tiffany gasped. She knew who's voice it was, but she didn't want to believe it. Tiffany turned around to see a doll standing in front of her in the kitchen. The doll had bright, red hair and scars all over his face. It was none other than her ex-husband, Chucky. Tiffany dropped a plate that was in her hands. It fell to floor, breaking into tiny pieces.

Chucky looked up at her, "What's the matter, Tiff? Surprised to see me?"