Well, I am back with chapter 10. I personally think chapter nine was better, but this chapter did a good job concluding the main plot and the next five chapters will be used to tie off the loose ends. Make sure to tell me what you think after you finish reading.

I will probably be back with chapter eleven tomorrow or Saturday, if I don't post it today. There isn't much of a cliffhanger this time, but there's still a lot of unanswered questions.

Anyway, please enjoy the chapter! Thank you to everyone who reviewed!

WARNINGS: USE OF A GUN, MINOR TO MILD VIOLENCE, AND MILD MENTION OF BLOOD (I WOULDN'T SAY ITS TERRIBLY GRAPHIC, BUT IT DEPENDS ON HOW SQUEAMISH YOU ARE. I'M PRETTY SQUEAMISH, AND I WAS FINE WITH IT, SO...)

Disclaimer: I do not own Halloween or Child's Play or the characters or anything else that you recognize. I only own my OCs, including but not limited to: Elizabeth "Liza" Banks, Ryan Barclay, Tina Barclay, Timmy Barclay, Josh Hallows, and Sarah Montgomery.

Recap:

Timmy closed his eyes and waited for death.

BANG!

With the bang of the gunshot, the clock struck five.

Jamie hated that she knew the route to the Myers house, even after all these years, but it also came in handy as she nearly tipped the car over when she squealed around the corner onto the old country road that would lead them to the house where Michael Myers had grown up.

Grown up to be a mass murderer, she mentally added with a scowl.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Andy studying the gun, running his hand over the silver of the weapon. His eyes were determined but nervous, and Jamie knew why. They would only have one shot with Chucky. If they missed… well, let's just say there would be no telling how many of them would make it out alive if they missed.

"Hey," Jamie murmured, placing her hand on his while keeping one hand on the wheel. Even after so many years of marriage, a small spark still went up her arm when her skin touched his. "You've got this. For Tina and Timmy."

Andy nodded, taking in a deep, rattling breath. "You're right. I-I've got this," he murmured with false confidence, trying to build up his courage, if only for his children. Their family would never be safe with Chucky out there. If he didn't destroy that doll tonight, it would mean many more years of fear, of looking over their shoulders, and he couldn't do that to Timmy or Tina or Ryan or Emma. He would destroy Chucky tonight. He had to.

Jamie hit the brakes as they pulled up in front of the Myers house, which loomed in the dark of night with an air of mystery, an air of secrets, and Jamie knew all too well the secrets hidden inside that house in the form of a man with a white, smooth mask to cover his face. Except for his dark, soulless eyes, which Jamie knew he could never hide.

The voices of her past whispered in her ear as they bolted into the house and through the hallways, checking every room for their son and daughter but coming up empty each time. No matter how fast or far she ran, she could never seen to outrun the voices, outrun the past… outrun her demons.

"You look just like me."

She had never told Andy about that. She had never told anyone about that. Looking so much like a mass murderer… talk about a gruesome conversation starter.

She could still feel the wood of the coffin under her back, surrounding her like a cage, and Jamie knew that that had been Michael's intention. She could still see the candle light, the flickering flames that cast shadows across the walls, glinting off the knife as Michael raised it. She could still smell the dried blood on Rachel's shirt. She could still hear the eerie silence, only filled by her pounding heart beat, her trembling gasps, and the smooth, even, but… almost hesitant breaths coming from Michael Myers. She could still taste her fear, and it left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth as she fought to swallow it.

Michael had taken so much from her. Her sister, her childhood, her innocence. She would not let him take her children, too.

Jamie and Andy walked up the stairs, and Jamie couldn't stop the sharp intake of air she drew in at the sight of the blonde girl leaning against the wall.

The girl was so young, the same age as Tina and Timmy. Her blonde hair was stringy and tangled; blades of grass threaded themselves into the yellow locks that must have been a beautiful sunshine color when they weren't stained by mud and sweat and grime. She was only wearing her pajamas; heck, she wasn't even wearing shoes, and painful blisters and scratches nearly painted her feet red and blue. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shallow and wheezing. Her left arm was a bloody mess of stab wounds, and the crimson pooled around her, looking almost black against the floorboards.

She looked so much like Rachel…

Jamie and Andy knew the likelihood of her survival. Losing that much blood… it's be a miracle if she lasted two more minutes. Meanwhile, there were other children somewhere in this house who could still be alive.

As if on cue, a heart wrenching scream sounded from the roof, and Jamie and Andy reluctantly abandoned the dying girl to spend her last moments alone as they sprinted through the closest doorway and up the steps to the attic.

The attic still held the remains of Jamie's worst moment. The coffin was still there, tipped over, the wood rotting with age and decay and water damage. All of the candles were no more than melted piles of wax, and the chair that had once held Rachel Carruthers was splintered across the floor beside a broken window, the shattered remains of the dusty, streaked window scattered across the floor, reflecting the moonlight in a horrifyingly beautiful picture.

Jamie ignored the horrifying memories that wanted to claw their way back up from the deepest parts of her mind as she scrambled out of the window and up the rooftop.

She climbed the slope of the roof (Been there, done that, she thought, darkly), her husband not too far behind her, and they found themselves staring at something much scarier than their own experience. Or maybe that was just because it involved one of their children.

A brunette girl was hanging off the edge of the roof, her fingers clinging for dear life, and… and Timmy Barclay was lying on his back on the flat part of the roof, a doll leaning over him with a knife raised directly above Timmy's heart.

Andy didn't think. He simply acted.

Andy raised the gun and pulled the trigger.

He didn't miss.

The bullet shot straight through Chucky's heart, and a spray of blood raced through the air, splashing onto the rooftop and their son's face.

Chucky fell to the rooftop and didn't get back up.

Timmy heard a disgusting squelching sound, a pained cry from Chucky, and something warm splattered onto his face. He heard a hollow thump, but he refused to open his eyes because what if he opened them and Chucky was standing before him? It was one thing to know you were going to die. It was quite another to see the knife dig into your flesh.

Rapid footsteps pattered across the roof, and Timmy screamed as hands touched his arms. Somewhere in his mind, he knew it was irrational, but he couldn't help but think it was Michael Myers or some other enemy they hadn't even thought of. The enemies just kept coming tonight; he wouldn't be surprised if they were faced with a third.

But it wasn't an enemy. Instead, a beautifully familiar voice greeted his ears.

"Timmy! Timmy! It's okay."

Timmy managed to pry his eyes open, and he nearly sobbed when he came face to face with the person before him.

"Mom?"

Jamie Lloyd Barclay smiled, tears in her eyes. Whether they were tears of relief that her son was okay or tears of sadness because he was so traumatized and beaten, it was hard to say. It could've been both.

"Hi, sweetie," Jamie murmured, and Timmy actually did sob as he threw himself at his mother, body shaking and relief squeezing his lungs at the realization that he was safe.

But someone else wasn't. Actually, two people weren't.

Timmy pulled himself away, and he murmured, "Liza? And Tina?"

Jamie replied, "We passed a girl in the hallway. I assume that was Liza. I… I'm so sorry, Timmy."

Timmy broke down into tears at the words. They had barely known Liza and Sarah before tonight, but after all they'd been through, Timmy felt like they understood him more than anyone else. They were his sisters, just like Tina.

"And Tina?" Timmy repeated, voice so frail, as if he might shatter at any moment, and without Tina there to hold him together, it was a likely possibility.

A shadow of fear passed over Jamie's face. "What about her? Timmy… where's Tina?"

Timmy pointed a shaking finger at the edge of the roof, and Jamie slowly glanced over it, terrified of what she'd see.

"No!" she screamed, voice almost as broken as Timmy's. "No!"

Timmy's dad rushed over from where he was helping Sarah climb back onto the roof, and he joined his wife at the edge of the roof. His wide eyes landed on the crumpled form of his baby girl, lying face down on the sidewalk, limbs bent at odd angles and oh, so still as the moonlight shined on her little (too little) form.

Andy didn't scream, but he swayed from grief and shock, and Sarah and Timmy, despite their own emotional agony at losing their friends (and girlfriends), had to rush toward him to make sure he didn't fall off the edge of the roof.

"No, not Tina," Jamie murmured. "Please, no."

"Uh, Timmy? Mr. and Mrs. Barclay?" Sarah suddenly spoke up, voice shaking and cracking, and they managed to tear their eyes away from the limp form of Tina so far below them. They followed her terrified eyes to see… Michael Myers climbing over the side of the roof.

Timmy back pedaled a few steps, slipping and hanging onto the slope of the roof, fingers latching onto the shingles. Andy raised the gun, but Michael was faster and angrier. Michael tackled Andy, nearly throwing both of them off the side of the roof, and Michael ripped the gun out of Andy's hand. Andy kicked Michael in the ribs, and the gun went off.

Luckily, the bullet missed its target (Andy's head), but it embedded itself in Andy's right thigh, causing Andy to cry out as he fell to one knee, hand clapping over the bleeding wound. Red began to stain his pant leg, and Michael determined Andy to be taken care of, at least for the moment, and he turned to face his real target, the one he'd truly been after.

Jamie Lloyd Barclay.

Michael raised the gun, pointing it at Jamie's head, and for a long moment, nobody dared to move, afraid even the slightest shift, the smallest sound, might set Michael off. He seemed to be hesitating… or maybe he was savoring the moment. It was hard to tell with Michael.

Whatever reason he had for pausing, it was a good thing he did because if he hadn't waited, he might have actually had the chance to shoot and kill Jamie.

But his moment of hesitation proved to be a life saver for Jamie… and a downfall for Michael Myers.

They had all been so focused on the altercation that no one had noticed a certain brown haired teenager creep over the edge of the roof, and in an action fueled by rage and protective instinct, he sprinted across the rooftop and barreled straight into Michael.

The gun tumbled out of Michael's hand and clattered to the sidewalk in front of the house. Michael fell with it, but unfortunately, he dragged his attacker down with him.

In a blur of gray and brown and black and white, the two of them toppled off the side of the roof.

A dull thump sounded from the ground, and the four of them glanced at each other before they approached the edge of the roof and glanced down at their attacker and their savior.

Michael Myers lay face down on the sidewalk, his white mask glowing in the red and blue lights of the police cruisers that squealed onto the scene. His eyes were closed, and he didn't move as dozens of police officers raced towards him, guns raised, and Michael was either unconscious or dead (although Jamie knew better than to hope) because he didn't fight as he was loaded into the ambulance on a stretcher, bound in a straight jacket and with steel restraints on the stretcher (it appeared to be specially made for violent criminals. Let's just hope it was strong enough to hold Michael Myers).

Their savior lay on his back, shirt stained with the rusty color of dried blood (it obviously wasn't his if it was dried, but if wasn't his, who's was it? The four survivors couldn't help but wonder... and fear) and although his head was turned to the side, making it hard to see his face, Jamie, Andy, and Timmy would recognize him anywhere.

"Ryan?" Jamie murmured, not wanting to believe that two of her children were laying on the ground, possibly (even likely) dead.

Tears began to slip down Andy's face as he wrapped one arm around his wife and pulled his son close to his side with the other.

The clock struck six.

The family of three, along with young, grieving Sarah Montgomery, crawled back through the attic window and descended the steps. Sarah burst into a new wave of tears when she saw the puddle of blood in the second floor hallway. Michael hadn't been wounded, which meant it could only belong to one person. Elizabeth Banks was no where in sight.

The lights from the police cars and the ambulances practically blinded them as they stepped outside, and Jamie stepped forward to explain the situation to the police officers, telling them not to panic when Andy ended Chucky for good.

After everyone was a safe distance away, Andy tossed the doll like garbage on the front steps, and then he splattered gasoline across the porch. With a click, he struck a match, and he didn't hesitate to throw it onto the doll that had taken so much from him, the doll that had almost taken his son and might have taken his daughter.

Then he watched the doll and the house of Michael Myers burn.

Sarah wandered through the crowds of officers and paramedics, peeking into every ambulance and blatantly ignoring the body incased in a black bag being loaded into the coroner's van.

"Liza?" Sarah called. "Liza?"

Nobody answered her.

And Sarah Montgomery began to weep.

Timmy couldn't have been more satisfied when he saw the house go up in flames. He watched the fire lick at the wooden boards of the house, watched the heat reduce Chucky to nothing more than a pile of ashes, and after a moment of simply watching, he turned away.

His mother approached him, and her arms rested on his shoulders. A feeble smile had found its way onto her face.

"Ryan and Tina are alive," she informed him, and Timmy felt his legs go weak with relief. He fell to his knees, and his mother followed him, cradling her son like he was the only thing keeping her grounded, and he might as well have been as she watched the house that still appeared in her nightmares to this day collapse in on itself with a thunderous boom.

"Will they be okay?" Timmy asked, the orange light of the fire illuminating the bruises and the dirt marring his handsome face.

Jamie sighed. "They don't know yet. They're both still unconscious. They're taking them to the hospital to examine them and treat their injuries," Jamie replied.

Timmy nodded. "But they're alive."

Jamie nodded. "They're alive," she repeated her son's words, and they cast one last glance at the house, which was nothing more than a flaming pile of support beams and boards, no longer towering over them with an air of mystery, an air of secrets, no longer staring down at them and inspiring fear. It was nothing but the remains of a house, and soon enough, it would be nothing more than charred debris and ashes.

Then they walked away to join Ryan and Tina in the ambulance, soon followed by Andy, and the Barclay family was finally together again.

Through the doors of the ambulance, Timmy watched as the sun began to rise.

Theme Song For Chapter Ten: Angel With A Shotgun by The Cab

I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, and don't worry, you will figure out what happened to Liza within the next few chapters. You will also figure out the condition of Ryan and Tina.

Chucky is destroyed! Finally, am I right?

Thank you for reading, and please leave a review! I will see you soon with chapter 11. Until then, have a nice day.

Word Count: 3000