Ivan Burton had a record player in his den. As members and initiates of the Order of the Serpent roved around the lakefront mansion that served as their headquarters, they'd always hear jazz-era show tunes playing. Burton was always fond of jazz and has been quite public about it in the past with an axe stunt in New Orleans he pulled in another life.

"Hey, Pete. Hey. Did you eat all the Frute Brute?"

"Shhh. Shut up for a second, Tory," He was new.

The two shadowmen stood in the den outside the basement doors which lead to the hidden inner sanctum of The Order of The Serpent -where Burton keeps his house of worship and voodoo laboratory hidden from the world until a time would come where it would have no choice but to accept it. Below, bodies of abductees lined alters below stained glass pictures of a snake constricting the globe as blood wrings from it. The Order would gather down there for the three "S"s, services, sacrifices, and spells. About ten minutes ago, Deacon Burton had taken young Charles Lee Ray down for a "private" study. Such was common every week or so, and normally two shadowmen were nearby the locked the door just in case. There have been a couple of runners before. The one called Pete had his ear against the door.

"What does he have to show that kid down there that he hasn't shown us?" he asked out loud.

"It's probably best you didn't know. It's not our place to come between the Deacon and his protege."

"I think I can hear some incantations down there. I hear faint chanting or something being repeated. I bet the Deacon's showing him new spells."

"I have a new spell for you. It's 'shut your ass and come listen to Minnie The Moocher on this vintage record player.'"

"They're always so quiet down there."

Pete suddenly fell back from the door as a scream echoed from the other side, down the stairs, and into the depths. It was a horrendous sound before being choked out. Tory folded his arms.

"That happens uncommonly," he said, "Hope the Deacon doesn't need help like last time."

"Help? What do you mean he-" Footsteps, big and heavy, were coming up the stairs. Tory's eyes went wide.

"Hood on, idiot!"

Deacon Burton swung open the door so hard it broke the drywall as it sputtered in its frame. His clothes were covered from clavicle to heel in blood, obviously not his. The Soul of Damballa gleamed with its bluestone around his neck. He eyed his two hooded shadowmen before him as they got down on their knees. The Deacon breathed, steadying himself from the frenzy he was just in.

"You two there, follow me. I need help with my apprentice." That was a command as clear as day as he gave them no time to answer before heading back down the stairs.

"Well...at least it's not blood eagle day. C'mon Pete, don't want to upset him."

"But-"

"All questions will be answered in time." The two followed their master down into the bowels of the mansion. The undecorated walls of concrete reeked of masonry. Three bodies were strewn about the altars below the stained glass window. A middle-aged man, an old man, and a young woman -nude mutilated and Damballa runic carvings all over their torso and limbs. The method of killing varied. One of the men had his jaws curb-stomped while the other older one had been scalped and had his throat slashed. The woman simply had a broken neck, but her body had definitely been used. Bet it was Tory.

Across the same room are the Deacon's voodoo laboratory and personal mementos from his previous lives. There was that New Orleans axe I spoke of, a Whitechapel pin, an enchanted vial containing the stolen soul of Edgar Allen Poe, a bunny mask, and a lock of Black Delilah's hair. Not bad for the guy who put Bella in the Wyche Elm. You feel that electricity in the air, don't you?

Just beyond a corridor is one smaller room cut off from the other, and that is where Deacon Burton led his Shadowmen. The exposed dim lights, razors, restraining tables, and even a goddamn iron maiden made it all clear. This was his torture chamber in the name of Damballa. Burton's old habits had made him a serial killer in his first life which he vaguely remembers somewhere in Western Europe. As Tory and Pete followed him in, Pete noticed the Deacon's apprentice sitting in the corner. 20-year-old Charles Lee Ray's head faced down and he looked as though he was propped up. He didn't seem in distress or anything. In fact, he just seemed lifeless. It didn't look like he was breathing. Deacon Burton caught Pete glancing.

"Chucky isn't there right now," he said, "He's over here."

Pete had only noticed it now because the thrashing suddenly resumed. Restrained on one of the tables by leather straps was another middle-aged man, this one balding. He had been flayed and vivisected, split down the middle with the two hug flaps of his torso hide spread apart like moth wings and hung on either side of the table. Nonvital organs and viscera littered the floor. The heart, lungs, and guts were still in their place if not for a little while longer. An incision on his neck hinted that his vocal cords had been messed tampered with. The man's eyes and tongue were gone. This was visible as the head laid back slack-jawed. But all at once, the head suddenly rose and the man began screaming. With no tongue and nothing to regulate the pitch, it sounded a lot like what Tory and Pete had heard.

"Come now, Chucky," Burton put a hand around him, "You know every time we do this you get better. Think of this as bungee jumping." he then went over to Chucky's actual body in the corner. "Scream all you want, but you'll always be pulled back."

It finally dawned on Pete what the "study sessions" between the Deacon and his proteges really were. He had read about this form of voodoo torture. Soul rape -transfer a soul into another body then put it right back in the original before death. "You two, if you look over to the left, you'll find forceps, sheers, and a blow torch on the table. So...I'll let you get to it."

Tory was compliant at once as Pete was still processing this. He handed him the blow torch. Tory always wanted to be a surgeon. Yes, like in Hostel.

"Nothing's off-limits," Tory told him, "Make him hurt in every place in every way shape, and form. If you can't hurt it anymore, then just rip it off. The Deacon will jump in when he needs to bring him back."

Pete wasn't a good egg. Half of his mind was racing through all the fucked up things he can do to Chucky in another's body. The Deacon was watching them now. Them joining him down here was not a request. He sparked up the torch, he wanted to see what would happen if he blasted it in his ears. Tory, meanwhile, wanted to give facelifting and circumcision a try.

"Tory."

"Yeah?"

"I did eat all the Frute Brute."


Back to the present day (or 2016 by this fic's definition, sheesh) when police cars from the CPD lined the lakeshore. A call and an emergency signal had gone out -an abnormality had occurred in the lake and bioweapons were suspected. From a bird's eye view, the entire outline of the Chicagoland shore was illuminated by flashing red and blue lights. Sirens roared in all directions. Residents who weren't inside already were obliged to with the emergency broadcast. This was Burton's plan. He knew his new apprentice was just a means to weaken and get Chucky and Ozzy out in the open. And with the roads clear at such a late hour and police busy with the aftermath of LaGarrette's death, he could chase them as long as he needs to.

"Help my fuck, we have to go through so many intersections!" Ozzy was sweating at the wheel. The Mustang's dashboard indicated they were heading North. That was Ozzy's only way of knowing being unfamiliar with the city. Chucky, however, knew right where they were. He stood in the front seat alongside Shauna with his wife and kids in the back.

"Where do we even go now?" Shauna asked aloud.

"Wherever we can," Chucky said, "The city runs in a grid so heading straight is our best bet. I'm not a fan of the fact that we're heading North into the nicer part of town, but I am a fan of the fact we just passed the convention center before the Museum Campus and we're on Ida B. Wells…hey, do us all a favor and take a right then left after two more intersections."

"Why?" Ozzy asked, speeding through what would be the twelfth red light. Burton's car was gaining on them each passing one with the four other cars following behind. They were in the heart of the city now. Save for cars parked and left on the sides of the street, it was even less busy than the a.m. hours on a weeknight. Sure there were some people still scrambling about on State Street, but nearly no one was on the road.

"You'll love it." Chucky did an inventory of the available weapons he and the others had at their disposal. The family had laid out their knives on the car seat. Chucky was not happy to find out that they were one short. Tiffany had lost hers in the fight with LaGarrette. As Ozzy approached the intended turn on Wabash, the Rays grew antsier.

"Dad, you're doing that thing you do with your brow when you get uneasy," said Glen, Something you care to share with us?"

"Well the good news, we can survive if the car gets totaled."

"Haha! Wonderful! We can't!" Ozzy snarked from the front seat as a coping mechanism.

"It won't come to that, smartass. We got five cars, soon to be less in a couple of minutes I hope, and nothing in this car that can do anything while they're moving. I can stop them, but I would have to be inside. I'm working on that right now, but Burton is going to be a problem," there was an unnatural realist tone in Chucky's assertion, "Do we have anything to throw at them in this car?"

At this point, Shauna reared her head from around the passenger and gave a look at all the Rays. "I mean…"

"I should fucking end you for suggesting that but I'm not ruling it out." Chucky said, "Unless…hey Ozzy, do you think you can just move me to and from the cars as you did with the chains around the thunder bitch?"

"I'm not sure, I think it only works in really, really high tension life-threatening situations," he said.

"Fucker, you look behind us?" Chucky pocketed his knife, "Tiffany, you and the girls sit in the seats. Son, you're with me as soon as we pass under the 'L'."

"The 'L?'" Ozzy's answer came when the turn on Wabash did. Usually, it was a one-way street South but no one was using it. Cars still lined the side of the street in a disorganized way as some drivers had left in a panic from the state of alarm. This was just as Chucky had hoped. They made a turn and the dark suburbans drifted after them.

"Haul ass straight until I tell you to slow down. And, I'm smoking your pot." Chucky reached into the front seat and snatched a bone Ozzy had hastily prepared -the filter was fucked. He sparked it and held it up to his family. "Anyone wants to hit before we get into this?" Tiffany was unamused, Glen passed, and Lottie was 10.

"Hell yes." Glenda did so, as she exhaled, she hummed the opening overtures to a certain Hercules song. "I have often dreamed, of a Mr. Smiley." She held the joint up to the drawn-on smile of her knife. Take a wild guess if it inhaled or not – you know, the motherfucking Cutco knife with sharpie on it. Instantly, Ozzy regretted it, he may have just decreased their chances of survival lower than they were.

I could spend 3000 words easy describing the architecture and urban beauty of Chicago, but that's not what you're here for. You want to see Chucky and his family throw down so I'll get to it. The CTA trains run over the streets and loop around the main business district in a rectangle. Their supports are riveted to the streets below, reducing the width of the street Ozzy, Shauna, and the Rays were currently racing down. One of the trains, the Green Line, was making the turn from Adams/Wabash station as they sped under it. They had to shout over the sound of the train above them.

"Holy shit! This is where they filmed The Dark Knight chase!" Ozzy said enamored. All the subways back home ran underground. Shauna glanced back at the pursuing suburbans who had yet to come under the tracks. They showed no signs of slowing down but they were attempting to bunch up together. Four of them formed a perimeter around one specific one that can be assumed was the Deacon's.

"What exactly was the plan here?" she asked Chucky. He was staring at the cars expectingly.

"There's always some idiot who always hits-"

The impacts were spectacular. If someone were filming it and digitally edited out the train bridge supports on both sides of the road that two of the five suburbans ran directly into and replaced them with people -it would be superhero movie worthy. The road was getting narrower and they just couldn't fall in as the others had done. The driver of the one on the left was thrown out the windshield and spread horizontally with his back-breaking like inch-thick plywood. His whole body was nearly wrapped around the thing. The driver of the other car met the bridge support on his side of the road face-on after flying through the windshield. The passengers were thrown out as well, at least those whose bodies weren't hanging out along the hood. A couple of the shadow men were still alive but I'm being generous with the twitching. Apparently, seatbelts were not a thing with the Order of the Serpent. Bet everyone in the still-running cars, Burton included, probably buckled up by now.

"Hahaha! There's always a fuckup on Wabash when people are speeding down it. That's what we use Lake Shore Drive for!" Chucky laughed, "Burton hires total shitheads…huh?" Chucky noticed that the half of the Heart of Damballa was glowing from his front overall pocket. Perplexed, he took it out and held it in front of him.

"What is it?" Tiffany asked him, seeing it too as everyone did. Chucky could feel a slight pull towards the back window of the Mustang which was now making its way over the river on the Wabash bridge. He could see the dark SUVs bobbing and shaking over the bridge behind them, but in the center one, Chucky could also make out a faint red light behind the tinted windshield.

"He has it…" Chucky said, "The other half of the Heart! He actually brought it with him!" Ozzy turned pale in the driver's seat.

"T-that means he's planning on doing the ritual when he gets us! He knows! He fucking knows we're all here and have the other necklaces! Oh, fuck! He's going to bring the snake god here to fuck our faces!"

"Ozzy, come on!" Shauna quickly cut the wheel quickly before they nailed a parked car. Right after the bridge, the road curved and she had to make that maneuver as well with Ozzy screaming behind the wheel.

"Where are we even going?" he cried.

"Keep going north!" Chucky commanded as he saw one of the cars speeding forward beyond the others to intercept, "Son! You're with me!. "His son had his hands clasped together and his head lowered in mediation and had so since the two cars smashed into the bridge. He raised his head up dramatically and pulled his turtleneck over his mouth.

"I'm ready," he affirmed like *insert anime protagonist here*. Chucky bit the inside of his lip. Glenda snickered.

"You make me nervous when you do shit like that sometimes. Ozzy, don't speed off unless they have you pinned. We're going to kill the driver and any passengers then the cars will naturally crash once Jesus takes the wheel. You got to be there for us to get back in." Ozzy was giving the usual stuttering "whats" as Chucky laid this all out. "Tiff, you and the girls hold down the back seat. If you get cornered, you know what to do –no one gets to the amulets or the acolyte." Chucky then placed both the Soul and broken Heart of Damballa in the middle console between the driver and passenger seat. One of the suburbans was quickly approaching them.

"Time to get fucked up and lethal, son!" Chucky placed his knife in his mouth and rolled down the back window as the black car drew closer. Glen moved to join him when his mom grabbed his shoulder.

"Be careful, sweetface," she told him.

"Yeah, don't weeb out too hard over there," Glenda laughed.

"I will, mum, and for your information Glenda, I don't enjoy this as you lot do," he withdrew his tanto and it made the most satisfying metal scrapping sound ever, "I do this for the survival and protection of all who I love and cherish like a true Ronin!" he posed with his tanto in a block in front of his face.

Before Glenda could make another demeaning remark, the car which had been drawing closer to their right sideswiped them. The smaller Ray family bounced in their seats while the seatbelts did their jobs for Ozzy and Shauna.

Chucky didn't make time to quip "showtime" or any of that noise either. He was already one foot out the window of the moving car awaiting the next sideswipe he knew they were planning. Glen joined him at his side. The shadow men commandeered suburban was coming at their side again. Chucky then pushed himself off the Mustang and, using his metal lined head, he was able to break through the window and right into the back seat where two of the henchmen await him. Glen leaped into the vehicle right after him. Almost that incident the SUV swerved away and began shaking.

"C'mere!" Chucky had gone right for the closest one's neck the second he landed in his lap and drove his knife right through it. The soon to be corpse as pinned to the seat. The other shadow man sitting next him went for his own blade and tried to drive it through Chucky's back, but Glen blocked it with his tanto.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that." The self-proclaimed ronin said as he pulled the snake-like blade away from his father. The tension he caused the shadow man was enough to knock it out his grasp. Glen then sliced his seatbelt across his waist then maneuvered over him like a ninja to the car's door handle and opened it. It took a little inertia for the stunned shadow man to fall out of his side and onto the street as Glen hung on the open door. The SUV wasn't going that fast, so all the guy had to do to live was tug and roll as was Glen's intent. Unfortunately, his was thrown right into the path of another of the SUVs in pursuit and his head got crushed like a melon.

"No good deed…" Glen sighed to himself as he got the door shut and re-entered the car. Inside, Chucky was now armed with his own knife and the one he scavenged from the shadow man he killed. He didn't have to make his way to the front of the car, the shadow man in the passenger seat grabbed him by his hair and slammed him against the dashboard. A little bit too hard, because the damn airbag came out. In that instant, Chucky was mashed between the bag and the shadow man's hooded face.

"Oh, you floundering cockhead!" he screamed and struggled to get free as did his aggressor, "Son, a little help!?" All the poor driver could do during this was try to keep the car straight. They were starting to fall behind Ozzy and the others.

Glen quickly popped the airbag and Chucky seized the moment while the shadow man in the passenger seat caught his breath. Wasting no time, he drove his knife up through the man's chin like a Predator does to an Alien. With what little life he had left, the impaled shadow man punched and fought against Chucky, but he just ate every blow. Not even five minutes into this confrontation and Chucky has already managed to stain his face and overalls with blood that's not his own. Glen, by contrast, kept things absolutely clean as he could.

"Get us back up to that car and you can get out of here with your life," Glen politely but coldly told the driver who he now had his tanto to the neck of. The cloaked driver tensed up at the wheel, before steadying himself and the SUV.

"Ok...alright…I'll-RRGGH!" The driver seemed nice but Chucky wasn't having it. Completely bypassing Glen's merciful blade, he slit the drivers throat in his usual graceful way. Glen gasped and fell into the corpse in the passenger seat's lap as the inevitable gurgles and blood fountain came. The driver pitifully squealed as his blood coated the wheel and dashboard. His weight still remained on the gas and the car would've lost control had Chucky not taken the wheel in the dead man's place. His clothes further reddened with each second he stayed under the spigot that was the driver's cut throat.

"You're pussy footing it, son. That will get us killed down the line."

"God, you smell like a rusty tuba covered in that blood. I personally think there's got to be a better way."

"Glen, Glen, Glen, my son, my pride, my joy…what am I ever going to do with you? We could be dismembered, tortured, and beaten in front of each other as a family and you would still try to make sure everyone sings kumbaya." Chucky knew it was pointless to argue after 10 years.

The two then saw one of the other black SUVs overtake them and continue speeding down the city street towards Ozzy and the others in front of them in the near distance. The engine roared as the tires screamed in acceleration. It was heading right toward the Mustang's rear. "Looks like you may get your chance if you don't help me with the gas!" Chucky barked at his son.

"On it!" Glen darted under the driver's seat and took the car's speed in his own hands.


By now, they were reaching the northern neighborhoods of Chicago. Ozzy had taken the liberty of chain smoking joints behind the wheel, all meant to calm his stress but doing nothing of the sort. His shaking hand dropped the joint right between his legs and there was sort of crisis there. Shauna steadied the wheel, then grabbed the reclaimed joint and tossed it out the window.

"Just chill out with that, you're going to get us all killed!" she told her boyfriend.

"Shauna, and by extension everyone in this car," Ozzy regained control of the Mustang that he could now kiss the $400 security deposit on good-bye, at least it wasn't his money, "In about nine seconds, I'm going to start profusely shitting my pants!"

"You know what," Tiffany folded her arms, "Ever since we found you, you've really felt more like a fourth child in our care rather than a hostage." Ozzy put a hand on his chest.

"Aw, Tiffany, you think of me as one of your kids?" An unprecedented look of appalment and horror slowly crossed Tiffany' face. Glenda actually gave her a hopeful smile because that's in-law attitude and Lottie, who had been silent against the rear window watching the action behind them, chuckled.

"Let me rephrase that."

But she didn't. The SUV closest to them had sideswiped again just as Lottie called out. This one was playing no games as the back window opened and a shadow man leaned out with a tire jack. It approached them at the side once more. The shadow man wound up and smashed the back window of the Mustang. Ozzy screamed and impulse caused him to speed up. The good part about car windows is that the glass doesn't fly everywhere when it breaks, but Glenda had been standing, back turned, directly in front of the door in question. The grain-like bits of glass fell and sprinkled through her hair like rain, most of them entangling in her hair. Glenda could feel this along with some bits hitting her scalp. Her eyes budged and she tensed up like Carrie at the prom, her lower lip quivered.

"Mom…Lottie, I need honesty and nothing but it right now…is it a lot?" Ozzy and Shauna had never heard her voice take such a low pitch. The peppy Harley Quinn-like cadence and energy was gone. Glenda turned around and showed her glass littered hair to mother and sister. Both were relucent to answer, but she demanded honesty.

"It's… not exactly a few, but we can get them out." Tiffany gave her a little bright smile, but under it was a cringe at what she expected would come next.

"I'm sorry, Glenda…" Was all Lottie had to say with a hand over her mouth.

Glenda ran her hands through her hair. The smooth silky feel was all cut up and blemished by little bits of the window glass. Some fell out the moment her fingers gathered them; others were tugged by refused to leave their tangled spots. Glenda lowered her head and her breathing quickened.

Then she threw her head back and shrieked –really fucking loud and at an unimaginable pitch. This was another sound that Ozzy and Shauna had never heard Glenda make and both shouted simultaneous "fucks!" like they were in church. It didn't even sound human. Every horrible was present in it –voice cracks, decibel changes, everything that made a shriek the most unpleasant thing to listen to. Glenda suddenly took Mr. Smiley and stabbed him (I fucking called the knife him) through the seat and made a sizeable gash.

"BLOOD HUNGER!" she roared and pounced on the door after placing Mr. Smiley in her mouth and lunged across from the Mustang to the SUV once again going in for a hit. She had grabbed the sports car's door and launched herself off it so hard that her nails left claw-like marks on the door's interior close to where the window used to be.

The second that Glenda entered that car, blood spattered within and onto the rolled up windows. "MY NOSE! IT FUCKING BIT OFF MY NOSE!" someone suddenly screamed from within followed by a cacophony of screams. Shauna had seen the whole thing happen and looked at Tiffany and Lottie to see what they thought. Lottie still had her hand over her mouth and Tiffany was just deadpan.

"I don't hate when she gets like this. I just wish she didn't sometimes." The mother Ray said, "I'm going after her. Lottie, sweetface, stay here. Your father and brother should be back soon."

"I'll keep Osborne from driving us off the road." Lottie handed her mother a knife and joined Ozzy and Shauna in the front. Like Glenda had done, Tiffany up-and-covered herself across into the SUV. But it was further than before, and she barely made it by grabbing the door handle and hanging on. She was able to pull herself into the car by using her knife as a climbing pick.

It was a house of horrors on wheels that awaited her. There were two dead men in the backseat. One did indeed have his nose bitten off along with his cheeks ripped away and several stab wounds in the chest. Another had his head nearly torn off as it hung to the side only connected by spine. It looked as though the flesh had been torn by clawing nails until it gave. There was a third man in the back seat and he was fighting off Glenda, pinning her against the seat in front of him.

"I'm gonna dismember you so hard that someone's going to find your dick in dumpster somewhere in Santa Fe and they're going to go 'Wow! That's a small dick!''" she was spitting and chomping her piranha like chompers at him as she screamed. The shadow man was using both hands to pin her. He meant to move one towards Glenda's neck to choke her out. However, he made the mistake of getting his fingers near her mouth and the clamp was instantaneous. The shadow man screamed as Glenda began twisting and grinding her teeth with two of his fingers caught in her mouth. Each one brought a new squelch of flesh, crunch of bone, and splash of blood. Tiffany instinctively jumped in when the shadow man in the passenger seat started grabbing at Glenda's hair.

"Hands fucking off my child!" Tiffany was over in the front that same instant, making sure to step especially hard on the shadow man in the big seat's thigh. Her heels dug into him stunned him enough for Glenda to totally over power him and go for his jugular with Mr. Smiley. The shadow man in the passenger seat cracked his elbow against Tiffany's face pinned her against the window. He was acting on adrenaline as Tiffany had embedded her heels in his lap when she had come up front and began lowered the window. It slowly dragged across Tiffany's plastic face which squeaked loudly –it only pissed her off more as it would anyone. As she squint against the descending glass, she could see her husband approaching them in the car he and Glen had commandeered. The odds were turning in their favor, but where was Deacon Burton in the third car?


"There's one more coming up on your side, Osborne!" Lottie pointed from her spot on the middle console. This SUV wasn't erratic in its driving or anything, it just seemed to glide up alongside the Mustang going 40 in a 25. The passenger side window then lowered to reveal a shadow man to no one's surprise. What was surprising, was that he motioned for Ozzy to lower his own window.

"Oh, so now they want to talk," said Shauna.

"Tell them to go fuck themselves." Lottie told him, "it's been working for us so far."

"What if they go for a gun when I do?"

"I have yet to see a shadow man with any gun after a year of killing these guys. Besides—" she clambered over Ozzy in his seat to the door and was able to stand partially on the door console beside him with her knife gripped besides her, "I'll be right here."

"The moment you see something them do something sketchy, hurl that thing right in their face," Ozzy steadied his breathing.

"The moment," affirmed Lottie. Ozzy slowed down slightly and began opening the window as he did so. The sound behind them of Lottie's family tussling with the shadow men within the two SUVs gnashing together became less muted. Maniacal laughter, colliding cars, and occasional swears could be heard from Chucky having a derby with the other driver as Glen attempted to leap the growing and shrinking gap between the two cars to get to his mother and twin sister.

"Hey! Go fuck yourself, buddy!" Ozzy screamed at the shadow man in the car across from him, "No one wants you guys to open a portal to voodoo hell!" The shadow man said nothing. He just leaned back into his seat and the person who was seated behind him leaned forward and took his place. Ozzy's stomach dropped and he shuddered when he saw him as did Shauna's. Even Lottie suddenly felt a twinge of unexplainable dread. "Bury the fear inside," her father always told her.

This old dude had everything that made an old dude look scary –sunken eyes, face, and the coldest stare you ever did see. No one alive knew what Deacon Burton looked like originally because no one was around 500 years ago. Still, this guise that looked like a cross between Tobin Bell and Vincent Price that was depraved of some vital nutrients suited him more than well. This man has a body count in the four figures and emitted an aura of death.

"Acolyte!" he beckoned to Ozzy, "You have a destiny, and the time has come for you to fulfill it!". Ozzy was quaking in his seat. This was the man who chased him out of his life and plunged it into this high-stakes shitstorm of gore, magic, and dolls that say the darndest things. And quite literally, everything he said to him is sugar coated "I want you dead for what you are."

"We're not interested in any of the fucking black magic you're trying to peddle!" Shauna shouted, "I fucking missed my exams and roller derbies because of you, asshole!"

"You can make this pleasant and embrace what is meant to be the joyous day of your life or we can forego any civility! I actually prefer the latter!"

"Ah, forego this!" Lottie spat and threw her knife meant for his forehead. Burton didn't react, he didn't even blink. In that instant, the shadow man that had leaned back to allow Burton to speak sprang back up into the path of the oncoming knife and took it right to the face for his glorious master. The window began rolling up again, the entire time a twisted grin stretched across Burton's face. Ozzy shuddered; he knew it was meant for him. He and Shauna screamed and Lottie was thrown into his lap when the Deacon's car rammed the Mustang, harder than the others had.

"We need the others!" Shauna cried.


Tiffany had gotten a lover's high (that feeling of empowerment when your significant other does something real cool or accomplishes something) when she saw Chucky and knew he and her son had conquered that car, and took the shadow man pinning her by surprise with such strength. She screamed triumphantly as she forced her blade up through the shadow man's chin and began stomping his gut with one of her heels, each stomp brough a little splash of blood like a puddle on a rainy day –it even had that cheerful splooshing sound.

"Fuck, I love it when she gets like that," Chucky had seen it all as he and Glen drove alongside them, "Glen, it's time to bail!" His son knew what they meant. Using one of the shadow man's daggers, Glen jammed the gas pedal so the car could keep going and he could join his dad. Tiffany could see them getting ready just as she was twisting the shadow man she was killing's head in every direction, trying to break his neck but it was difficult from that angle. Chucky was able to leap across the near lack of gap between the two moving cars easily.

Glen, seeing that the runaway car could hit an apartment or storefront, turned the wheel towards a walled off alley approaching on the right. This created more of a gap between the two cars, but nothing he wasn't able to get over with a mighty ninja-like stride. The car they were once in only traveled off road and on the sidewalk for a short time before crashing within the alley between buildings. Chucky wasted no time in helping Tiffany with the shadow man she had subdued and assault his chest with his knife, turning it into swiss cheese the old fashioned way. Glen had graciously avoided that scene and perched on the middle console.

"Hey, you Glen Ray?" Glenda had severed the shadow man she was victimizing's head and was using it was a hand puppet. Her long nails really helped her get up in there (phrasing) and work the mouth, "I saw your profile on Grindr, papa likey." She then began hovering it around his crotch making kissing sounds.

"Glenda, that's fucking vile," he batted the severed head away, cringing. Chucky laughed as he pulled the shadow man in the passenger seat's trachea out, the viscera stretched like taffy.

"Let me see that, Glenda! I want to try." He didn't get to have his fun.

The driver –they fucking forgot about the driver (and frankly so did I, so he does stuff here). He had reached for and withdrew his dagger and plunged it right through Glen's shoulder. The poor kid was in perfect swinging distance to him. Glen screamed and dropped to one knee. The blood didn't drop, it poured down his side. Glenda cried out herself and fell into the back seats, the severed head rolled under the seat where she couldn't play with it anymore. Chucky saw red the second Glen began screaming. When his son's knee touched the middle console, he was upon the driver –stabbing at his chest and biting off his ears after tearing away his hood. Maximum pain was ensured. The car began swerving and running into signs and mail boxes on the sidewalk as it veered.

"GLEN!" Tiffany was at her son's side in that instant too, "Sweetface! I need you to look at me and not pass out! Not here!" She cupped his face and rubbed his side gently. Glen had his eyes clenched and was hissing through his clenched teeth.

The erratic motions of the car added to the sensation of spinning brought on by his wound. Chucky soon managed to steady the car at the wheel as he slowly opened his eyes and his mother came into view. He turned to look at his shoulder –the shadow man had really got him. The tip of the dagger was protruding out his front side with the hilt buried in his back.

"Ow…fuck" was all Glen was able to say once to brief shock began to subside. Then his face dropped as he looked at Glenda. "I could've blocked that, hope the funny joke was worth it." Glenda's look of concern turned to one of offense. Like her dad, she did not take blame (and responsibility to a degree) well.

"You know something, it kind of was. Come on, walk it off. You know what dad says about getting impaled? 'Free knife."" She smiled coldly at him.

"Inappropriate, Glenda!" Chucky barked from the wheel, "Help your fucking brother and don't make me come over there!" He was working on getting them back up by Ozzy and the others –and quick.

"Glenda, please," her mother appealed to her. She was now kneeling beside Glen, resting his head in her lap. Glenda rolled her eyes. Glen flicked a blood covered sleeve at her, the droplet narrowly missed her eyes but still spattered her brow.

"Oops, better mind that," he snidely said to her. Glenda stopped dead in her tracks, she wiped it from her face and glared at her twin.

"I'LL FUCKING END YOU" Glenda lunged at him with Mr. Smiley, only to be roughly stopped by her mom. Tiffany grabbed her wrist and forced Mr. Smiley out of her grasp before gripping her shoulders tightly, so much that her nails slightly dug into them.

"Glenda! That's enough! Seat, now!" She pointed to the empty shotgun seat behind her. Having a silent, but gestured pissy fit, Glenda stomped over to the seat and angrily drove Mr. Smiley through the leather seats before sitting down beside it with her arms folded. She continued to sneer at Glen as he did her.

"We love you both," Chucky chimed in, "You just frustrate and confuse us sometimes." They were pulling up alongside Ozzy, Shauna, and Lottie by now. Chucky felt his stomach drop a little when he saw what only could be Burton's car ramming into them from the left side of the road. Glen was able to stand again with Tiffany's help, but the dagger remained in him.

"I'm going to get us next to them, then we're all going to bail. I'll stay and make sure—"

There it was. It was no way related to the situation at hand, but there it was –right in the very same place it had been since 1896. The Brewster Apartments was where it all began for Chucky, and there they were on the right hand side of the road as they passed by. They truly where on the northern shore of Chicago. While they were indeed speeding by for that street's standards, time seemed to slow for Chucky as his blinking stopped and his mouth hung open. The first real spell he ever did, the first real victim that went so much deeper than just a spontaneous selection or obsession, the first death and revival, and the first step in his new life –if that's what it could be called. You're in the Child's Play section of , you're more than familiar with it all. For one of the fewest times in his life as a doll, Chucky felt himself sweating as he felt himself grow hotter like he was in a fire place (because he fucking was). His breathing was all he could hear despite the car chase. A small part of him was screaming to take the car he was driving and run it through the lobby. It wouldn't do any good though, the Barclays were long gone.

"CHUCKY! CHUCKY!" Tiffany shook him at the wheel.

"Huh? What?" Chucky's head darting was a sign that he had snapped out of whatever vertigo the passing Brewster Building had put him in. Without any warning and with a hand behind the wheel, he grabbed Tiffany and mashed his lips to hers. Prior to this, he had been breathing heavily but this kiss which he so needed helped steady his breathe. This was it, his ultimate comfort.

"Chucky, are you ok?" she asked, taking his hand.

"Just…just a permanent reminder that I'll never escape my past along with all my faults and failures," he smiled weakly, "I'll get over it. Everyone does. Let's get the Acolyte back."

"Dad, mum…things are starting to spin." Glen nearly slurred his words here.

"Go into the light." Glenda wasn't helping.

"We're bailing and now!" Chucky couldn't help but swipe the left side of the Mustang as he brought the SUV to its side. This earned some fist shakes and curses from Shauna out the window, but nonetheless she extended her arm out to them. "Glen first!"

Glen sharply gasped as his mom helped him saunter over the driver's seat. Chucky put an arm around him too as he assisted him up to the open window. They were close enough that Shauna was able to reach over and grab Glen by his sweater and lift him over into their car.

"You're a fucking warrior, Glen." She commented as she placed him in the backseat. The self-proclaimed Ronin smiled weakly with a barely audible "I try." Lottie immediately joined him. The seat had already began to soak up his blood.

"Glen! Oh no…" she instantly saw the severity of his impalement. Glen took her hand.

"I'll get through it," he breathed. Ozzy reached into his shirt pocket. He had managed to get ahead of the Deacon's car by a couple of yards, but it wouldn't make a difference. The centuries old serial killer was toying with them. He offered Glen a neatly rolled joint.

"Here champ, might take some of that pain away." The lighter was tucked between his fingers as well. Shauna suddenly jumped when Glenda landed right in her.

"Oh how sweet of you, Dreadie," she snatched both the joint and the lighter and sparked up. She didn't even inhale and it was all a spite move. This was confirmed when she blew that smoke she never breathed in right in Glen's face sitting down next to Lottie with her arms folded. Lottie didn't like what she quite literally found herself between.

"Glen, Glenda, whats going on with you two?"

"Watch the heels! Watch the heels! The heels! FUCK!" Tiffany made her way back into the car too. She really tried to do her best but one of her heels had stabbed into Shauna's thigh on her way in. It wasn't too serious, it wasn't deep, but her pants her ripped in that location. "…the heels." Shauna moaned. Tiffany joined her children in the back.

"Just keep breathing, Sweetface," she told him, "I think we can get this out."

"I need something to seal them." Glen saw that Glenda was fidgeting with the lighter and joint, trying to fix a canoe. "Lottie, can you ask Glenda for that lighter?"

"Glenda-"

"I'm using it right now, just wait." Her older sister said.

"No, I won't." She snatched it true to her word. Lottie handed the lighter to Glen and he rolled up his shirt. This unfortunately revealed his battle marks, as he called them, from his rabid dog encounter earlier that day.

"Glen! What the hell is that!? When did that happen!?" Tiffany cried, immediately trying to examine it. The mattress fluff had turned a dark, crusty red by now, but the teeth mark itself was healed.

"I tussled with a stray, it's not important right now," he took her hands, "Pull this dagger out then seal the wounds with the lighter –this plastic skin would reseal instantly."

"I don't want to hurt you! You're one of my babies!" Glen squeezed her hands before letting go.

"It's ok, mum. We can get it over with fast." Glen took his tanto and placed it in his mouth and gave a ready nod. Tiffany ran her hand through his hair before she gripped the hilt of the dagger protruding from his back.

"Be as loud as you want," she said and started pulling.

Chucky was about to make his jump over, but he had to get rid of the vehicle he was currently in. Unlike Glen, he had no qualms about where it would end up. Before leaping back into the Mustang, Chucky took the arm of the deceased driver and jammed it through the steering wheel in the rightmost position. He bailed just in time before it veered off the street and into a pub. It didn't help that it was one of those bars that relied on retractable glass that would normally be down during the day, but this was the dead of night. People had taken shelter there with the whole bio emergency going down at the lake. It was like the last scene from Final Destination 4 –a woman got caught under the car and got her head smashed by the oncoming bumper, a man got a tire in the face, and a couple more were killed with several more injured. Just the way Chucky liked it.

He wasn't able to see the vehicular carnage he had caused. By the time it crashed, he was hitting his head on the middle console of the Mustang between Ozzy and Shauna having pushed off from the veering car a little too hard.

"Glen?" he was up in a moment needing to see his son's condition. Glen's sharkish teeth had scraped the metal of his tanto as Tiffany pulled the dagger out. It had begun slowly, but quickly picked up after an inch. Glen was muffling screams and cringes behind the blade his girlfriend from his human life had given him –eyes closed tied with tears now beginning to leak through. Lottie and Glenda were next to them in the seats, only the youngest Ray was now starting to raise her voice at her older sister.

"Now, you're just being petty!" she shouted at her. Glenda nonchalantly kept hitting that joint.

"Hey, I'm doing what has to be done with a smile and making myself laugh along the way. It's not my fault Glen's capable of doing neither. He should've taken out the driver!" She sneered.

Glen wasn't going to shout back; he didn't have the energy. The dagger was out now and Tiffany quickly held the flame of the lighter up to the stab wound on his back. Glen bit down and clenched up even more than before as his plastic hide bubbled and seared. Within that moment it did indeed seal up. Glen cried out, spatting out his tanto.

"Front! Now!" he screamed. Chucky had joined Tiffany in helping him do so. Tiffany use the lighter and Chucky applied pressure. There was nothing muting Glen's screaming now. It was a good thing the windows were either broken or down because it would've been a hell of an echo chamber, and Glen's screams are just plain heart wrenching.

"Thanks…mum, dad…I'm gonna sleep for a little." Glen said weakly before passing out right into Tiffany's arms. His skin may have been plastic but the pain was all too human. He would come to in a little while, though. Tiffany cradled him then looked at Chucky. This was a night of firsts because he had never seen this look from her before. It was one of wavering optimism and dread. Then, he thought the same thing she did. Had this whole year on the run and keeping their children safe just been buying time? Was this the night the cult and Deacon inevitably caught up to them?

"No." Chucky spoke this aloud and grabbed the dagger that had held his son prisoner. He kissed his wife on the forehead. "No fucking way." Now armed with the dagger and his own knife, he headed back to the front of the car.

"He's not going to stop anytime soon!" Ozzy told him, still trying to outpace Burton next to him.

"Throw me into that car," Chucky commanded him, "With your weird Acolyte magic or by force, I don't care. Throw me right at his stupid, fucking face." There were growls in there. Shauna was the one who obliged him, picking him up by his overalls. Ozzy reclined back in his seat so she could get a clear throw.

"Time to murder your maker." Shauna with the action movie-like quote. When Burton had his driver go in for another bash, the athlete threw him with all her might with the open portal to the final SUV in her sights. Chucky screamed in what he believed was a triumphant moment of truth, both his blades out in front him like a pouncing lion.

I don't know what the gentlemen that Burton happen to possess fed himself, but he had big mitten like hands –NBA tier size. Chucky's neck landed comfortably and safely into the Deacon's outstretched, ready palm waiting to choke the fucking shit out of him. And that's just what he did. He then slammed Chucky right into the onboard, touchscreen computer. The Deacon didn't take his hand off him and did it again and again, reducing the screen and the car's electronics to a sparking mess that he had his former apprentice down on.

"Hello little one," he traced a finger around his doll nose somewhat affectionately, "You've been in this body for so long, yet I never got a good look at you. So many questions. Of course, the majority of them are why-orientated. But you make it work, Chucky, you really do. Even LaGarrette couldn't tame you. But, I knew that. She made for excellent canon fodder. These new age killers have all the latest in powers and abilities, but they don't think outside the box like we do, especially like you do. I think you know what happens from here, little one."

"I fucking make you swallow your own spleen and take that other half of the Heart!" Chucky furiously stabbed at him but to no avail, he was too deeply imbedded in the car's interface, and the Deacon's grip was like steel.

"Haha, you," laughed Burton, "No, no, I'm going to perform the ritual with the Acolyte and the amulets you brought me and then soul rape you and your brood to my content." He threw his head back and howled one of the most horrible laughs ever –in every sense imaginable. Chucky began struggling even more, his rage only building. "See that anger you're feeling? That's righteous anger. You know exactly what I plan for your wife and children that you'll be able to do nothing but witness. That's you're issue, Chucky, and why I lost you. YOU'RE! TOO! DAMN! HUMAN!" With each word he slammed Chucky against the ruined radio and media console to drive the point home. Chucky could only struggle weaker and weaker. "You think you can leave me!? You think that you can suddenly become a family man with nice quiet life while you maintain a controlled bloodlust!? Cheer on your kids at their school graduations with their teachers' heads in your closet!? NO! No, you little fucker you don't get that!" he then drove a dagger not too different from the shadow mans' into Chucky's abdomen. How else could he react, he screamed and thrashed.

"This is what you are! This is why you're here! Live, kill, die, then doing it all again! That is all Damballa has planned for you and all you ever will be! Such is the fate of all His followers!" Burton then held Chucky at his eye level using the blade he had him impaled on as an improve handle. Chucky had stopped fighting and his arms hung at his sides, his blade still remained firmly in his grasps. He wasn't out, not yet.

"How many others have you fed those exact fucking words to, big man?" Chucky raised his head and spoke up, "I bet you said that to LaGarrette and whoever the hell came before me and even the fucker before that guy! We don't mean anything to you! You just break us all down and then use us for something even more fucked than yourself. Your biggest mistake was me, old man! I'm a fucking monster like no other!"

"You have no idea what a true monster is, little one." Burton snarled. Before he could slam Chucky yet again, Chucky pushed himself off the dagger Burton had him impaled on, pushing off the Deacon's face with both feet. The driver's window was open as a precaution, so Chucky was able to scramble over him and out the window. Chucky was especially sure to hit the open hood latch on his way out, however. The car inevitably swerved when the hood popped up and obstructed the driver's view.

"Holy shit! He's actually getting to him!" Ozzy cried, looking over and seeing it all. Suddenly, the Mustang started beeping. Ozzy was horrified to find out that it had been gradually losing fuel the whole time. He screamed at this.

"AH! That was in my ear, Ozzy!" Shauna shouted, "What the fuck?"

"Our gas is going down! I'm literally watching the gauge drop! It just showed low fuel! It's like someone cut a hole in our gas tank and it's all leaking out!"

"Uh-oh…" All eyes locked on Glenda. She was laying back in her seat with the roach of the finished joint between her fingers. Her goofy smile of embarrassment was complimented by her red eyes. She never thought that tactic against LaGarrette would come back to bite them so soon.

"Glenda, what did you do?" Tiffany asked.

"I'm sowrry…I did a bad. Sowrry." Was all Glenda had to say.

"You bitch! You killed us all!" Shauna cried.

Meanwhile, Chucky was clinging onto the rear view mirror on the driver's side of Burton's SUV. He had both of his knife plunged into them for grips. Using his momentum as he avoided the driver's attempts to manhandle him, Chucky was able to stick himself to the front side of the car and hoist himself up so he was overlooking the car's engine under the hood. He could see the belt spinning as it should be. Getting down on all fours, Chucky clung to and maneuvered about the machinery until he got close to the engine. There was no need to time, just the need to act. Using the dagger that he had got from Glen, Chucky jammed the moving serpentine belt.

There was a loud bang and the sound of sputtering gears. Chucky could already feel the car beginning to slow and knew he couldn't be stuck with them. The dagger was gone, but he still had his knife. He saw that Ozzy and the others were still next to him too, also slowing down for some reason. He took advantage of that, sprinting over the engine and leaping once again from one car to another. Chucky wasn't aiming for any windows, but the Mustang's hood. Using his knife as a pick, he slammed into the sports car and quickly secured himself. Ozzy and everyone inside gasped at his sudden appearance. The engine in Burton's car caught fire, and eventually could do nothing but come to a halt. Chucky pounded on the windshield, signaling them to go faster to permanently lose him, but Ozzy shouted to him.

"We have no gas! We're stopping!"

"FUCK!" Chucky pounded the hood with his free hand while another clung to the embedded knife. He looked behind him and abruptly pointed. "The park! Go to the park!"

Oz Park is a nice little Chicago destination. In 1995, a statue of the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz book was built at the entrance. For the next six years, the rest of the main cast –the Lion, the Scarecrow, and Dorothy would eventually be created in statue form and brought to the park. The playground would also be named the Emerald City. It's a little spacious with baseball diamonds and bypassing trails. A block away there's also this cash-only Greek place called the Athenian Room that has been there since the 70s. Chucky, Tiffany, and Eddy Capullo used to go there a lot and get their salty delicious skirt steaks and get the meat sweats –worth it every time they'll tell you.

Ozzy was furiously pounding at the gas pedal by the time they were in front of the Tin Man statue, screaming at the car to go but he knew it was futile. They were going under 20 now as the Mustang was on its last leg. "Ok, when we stop everyone run out of the car and hide! Burton won't be far behind!"

Finally, the Mustang died as its engine sputtered and the vehicle came to a complete stop right outside Oz Park. Instinct took over everyone inside the second it did this. Chucky lifted his unconscious son on his shoulder as Lottie joined Ozzy and Shauna with Ozzy carrying her. Glenda and Tiffany kept close by Chucky. The clicking of the opening doors was like a starting gun as they got out of the car and ran into the park. Chucky's hunch was right, Burton and the driver were on their tail by foot just over 100 yards away. If Glenda hadn't pulled the stunt she did with LaGarrette, they could've left them in the dust. But I'll never be mad at Glenda, she had no way of knowing Burton would be waiting for them.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh fuck, oh fuck, this is it." Ozzy was doing his best not to scream from behind the tree, Shauna, and Lottie were, "This is the big bad. This dude is as high as it goes."

"We have them outnumbered Osborne. We may have a chance yet," Lottie offered optimism as the child she was. They could see shadows moving around by the Tin Man statue, not being too far from the Dorothy statue close by. Burton and the driver soon entered the park, stopping just short of the Tin Man. The Deacon called out to anyone of them in particular. There was no signs of Chucky, Tiffany, and the twins.

"Acolyte! Chucky! And anyone else here luck enough to be present for the ritual! Prepare to be graced by the magnificence of the death lord Damballa. You can show yourselves now and this can be as painless as I am capable of making it, or you can resist which I highly recommend. Nonetheless, you all will die screaming."

"Hey! You should do a ritual where you kill yourself!" an unseen Glenda screamed from hiding. Burton seemed humored by it.

"Oh child, you have no idea who you're dealing with." Burton approached the driver who had remained at his side this whole time, "I am what they define as a serial killer across that last five centuries. Not one police force from any country or era during that time has ever managed to catch me! Weaponry, human biology, and forensics –I've been studying just as all the textbooks were really coming out with each new discovery! I wrote the Book of Damballa! I opened the world up to new possibilities of magic and a closer relationship with death! I am the Ripper! I am the Axeman! I am he who has gone by a hundred names!"

Burton then fucking drove his hand through the back of the driver. From where there were, Lottie, Ozzy, and Shauna could see it all. The driver gagged but couldn't scream, as if something as holding the air inside him. Then, he started to wilt, like literally wilt away. His life was being sucked right out him in the most literal sense like that scene from The Spookies with the spider lady. His cheeks and face became incredibly sunken as all muscle and fat just ceased to exist and his skin hugged his bones like tight clothes. It wasn't clean either, blood poured out of every orifice he had. Then, Burton began pulling something and the driver's head began to flatten and decompress. This kill needs to be reference heavy for how graphic it is. Like a Mortal Kombat fatality, Burton ripped the drivers spine with the skull connect right out of his body and smashed it on the ground next to him. Still in that frenzy, Burton went over to the Tin Man statue and ripped the metal axe off it, tearing the metal like paper. He did this all as the driver's body crumpled to the grass. Ozzy couldn't help it. He just let it all out here and screamed.

"WE ARE SO FUCKED!" And he was scattering around the park, sprinting like he never had before. Shauna and Lottie sighed before running after him. Burton chuckled to himself. This could be easy. An axe in his hands was one of his comforts after all and he enjoyed a chase. The street lights with minimal lighting and his long cloak really did make him look like an amalgamation of his past lives.

"Glenda, shut the fuck up, just for a little!" Chucky hissed at his daughter. He, she, Tiffany, and the still unconscious Glen were under a bush rather than a tree not far from the Emerald City playground. "You're going to get us all killed!"

"We're so close! We kill him and it's over!" she insisted.

"And we will! Without getting our shit pushed in!" At the is point, Glen started to stir. He blinked as his vision cleared. His mom was quick to help him up from where he was lying down.

"Wh-where are we?" he asked. He rubbed the wounds that had caused him so much pain that had drove him to sleep. They were already getting better, but they didn't feel any better.

"This is good, welcome back, son," Chucky gave him a hug, despite him pressing up against his wounds, Glen did feel warm in his father's embrace, "We got to strategize how to cut Burton down to size."

"Can we overwhelm him?" Tiffany asked.

Their question was answered in the form of the Tin Man's axe swinging across just inches from the hairs on their heads, slicing off the bushy roof over their heads that gave them shelter. Burton was standing over them, head lolled and mocking smile. "No, you can't."

He brought the axe down them directly, but the Rays had dipped out of what was left of the bush the moment he raised it. While the others kept their distance, Chucky went for Burton's ankles like, well, ankle biter. Unlike LaGarrette, Burton was stab-able. He even bled. The only issue was his reaction, or lack of one. Burton showed no recoil or pain when stabbed. Chucky mercilessly sliced at his shins, shredding his pants legs and skin but Burton just stood and tanked it all.

"Pitiful, little one," Burton taunted and all he had to was reach down and seize his hair. Chucky screamed as Burton swung him around by his air before letting go. Chucky fucking crashed through a tree and broke it. Like a broad, strong tree –it just broke in two. He skidded along the ground as he landed with such momentum. Ozzy, Shauna, and Lottie were close by and moved in on him. Burton was about to pursue but Glen was there to meet his gaze.

"I had a life you took, wanker," Glen cracked his knuckles and withdrew his tanto, "I don't say this a lot, but I truly have no mercy for you. If what you say about yourself is true, then your reign of terror ends here." Of course, he pulled his turtleneck up over his mouth yet again. Glen then placed both hands on his tanto and assumed a battle stance –one that Deacon Burton knew.

"Curious, you present yourself like the military nobles of the East from my prime. But that's the problem with the samurai, they're too honor bound. I could tell that being just that has cost you some standing amongst your loved ones, different as they are from you, young one."

"My family loves me no matter how I live my life. As different as my dad is, no man has ever taught more about life than him."

"I'll never understand children's obsession with the Eastern culture nowadays. Sure the weapons are better, but is it worth their fetishization of light and being such a goody two shoes?"

"You talk too much, akuma. Raise your blade."

"…Now you're talking." Burton wasted no time in rushing Glen with the axe and bringing it down where he was standing. It played out like a Dark Souls boss with Glen dodge rolling as the axe made a divot where it struck the ground. The Deacon took another swing and Glen ducked under it as it sliced through the air. Burton then tried hitting him from the side but Glen was able to block it. The Deacon hadn't starting pushing just yet, had he, then Glen would've gone flying, but he was stopped by a knife sailing through the air and right into his back.

"What?" Burton pulled the knife from his back to reveal the crudely drawn smiley face. He titled his head. Then he felt something sharp around his calf, enter Glenda gnawing at it.

"Get him Mr. Smiley! Let's fucking show Glen how it's done!" she battle cried.

"This one amuses me," said Burton, taking in the crudely drawn smile on the knife, "Excuse me, miss?" he reached down and picked up Glenda by her collar.

"Lick the blackest part of my vulva, motherfucker!" she barked at him.

"Charming…I definitely see Chucky in you. I will be honest. He is one hideous girl." Glenda stopped struggling in his grasp, her face likened to that of a child having stage right during the school talent show. "You can't help if you were never destined to be beautiful, you stupid wench. Here's your knife back."

Now it was Glenda's turn to scream as a blade pierced her core. Burton didn't even give her time to breath –the blood spatter was instantaneous. Glenda didn't scream, but she did cough up some more spatter.

"FUCK! Glenda!" Glen cried and recklessly slashed at the Deacon. He dodged each one in a relaxed state. Glen was facing the anime antagonist he always wanted. This was further driven home when Burton stepped directly down on the tanto after a downward slash. Glen's eye immediately widened, dialated, and bulged –he knew he fucked up here.

"Worthless," was all the leader of the cult had to say before he acquainted Glen's gut with the toe of his other boots in a kick that was a like the tiny hammer in a gun going off. Chucky's son went flying into a tree like a golf ball, leaving his tanto in the grass. He flew back several feet before blowing his back out on the statue of the Scarecrow by the Emerald City playground. Her slide down it and on the ground, snorting and trying to catch his breath. A second later Glenda, with Mr. Smiley still in her torso, came hurdling against the base of the Scarecrow statue too. Unlike Glen, his twin sister pulled herself back up. Glen reached out to her.

"Glenda, you're hurt." She batted his hand away, wiping the blood from her mouth.

"Not by a long shot." Without hesitation she pulled Mr. Smiley from her abdomen as quick as ripping a band-aid off, she did let out a brief scream. She quickly cut a lower section from her dress and tied it around her torso right on the wound. She hissed before kissing the bloody Mr. Smiley, "That's alright, Mr. Smiley, I forgive you." Glen cringed. Why did his mom and sister like putting blood in their mouths so much? You know it's like tasting burnt copper, right? It's not sweet at all.

"Hello, children…" Burton was already standing over them with the Tin Man's axe. Glen continued to struggle to get back up while Glenda grinded her teeth together, something she did when she was helplessly angry.

Tiffany screamed as she lunged and latched onto the Deacon from behind. He actually didn't see this coming and stumbled away from the twins. She stabbed and slashed at his deltoids and shoulders. Burton growled in annoyance at this and just reached over and snatched her mid-attack.

"GLEN! GLENDA! FIND LOTTIE AND RUN!" she yelled at her kids before Burton worked his hands around her small neck stopped her from speaking and breathing altogether. He slammed her against the trunk of a nearby tree so hard that entire branches from above fell. Burton got way too close to comfort for Tiffany, his face centimeters from her.

"I remember you, harlot. You stole Chucky from me." Like he did with Chucky in the car, he slammed Tiffany deeper into the trunk of the tree. "You are not worthy of the blessing Damballa has given you. You are a heretic. Your children are mistakes. And, your obsession with what belongs to me will the biggest mistake of your life." He glanced at her Chucky heart tattoo. "Oh, I am going to make him watch everything I do to do, you insignificant wench."

"Like fuck you are!" Tiffany bit his hand and it loosened a bit so she could rasp this out. She took advantage of the fact Burton only gripped her by her neck while he held the axe with his other hand –she could move her arms and legs. First, she scratched his face which actually caused him to recoil back. Then, she kicked and drove a heel directly into the Deacon's left eye. This would be the first time anyone has ever heard him scream in centuries. He instinctively grabbed Tiffany by that leg so hard that her plastic flesh actually bruised before slamming her on the ground, once again with such force that caused divots to form and terrain to fly everywhere.

"Dad, dad. Come on, dad." Lottie shook and stirred her ko'ed father where he lay after Burton had sent him through a tree like a comic book. Ozzy and Shauna were kneeling down beside her. Ozzy would try to help by snapping in front of Chucky's closed eyes.

"Wake up, man, we need you out here." Chucky would actually slowly come to. His eyes fluttered and head lolled as he rose up.

"What fucking country did I land in? Holy shit, it's like a train hit me." he asked, now rubbing his head through his hair.

"Still here, dad," Lottie helped him up, "We need to help mom. Glen, and Glenda right now." The twins had disobeyed Tiffany and went back to trying to attack Burton. The Deacon wasn't dodging or maneuvering their stabs and slashes anymore. He was straight tanking them all now with a sick smile on his face. His dark clothes had fully gone crimson and he showed no signs of slowing down.

"I will, you on the other hand aren't going anywhere." Chucky armed himself and began towards the scuffle. Lottie pulled on his overalls.

"Dad, I can handle myself like Glen and Glenda can. I was with you when we killed LaGarrette."

"She was an amateur, this guy is the fucking real deal. He can put a hole where your face once was. I can't even begin to tell you the shit this guy is capable of being in the voodoo game for so long. Just stay here with Ozzy, kid."

"Then he kills you all and puts a hole in my face like you said? It's all of us or him."

"You need to keep Ozzy as far away from him as possible. I'm killing this fucker! No such thing as something I can't kill." Lottie continued to follow him defiantly.

"I'm sure there isn't." She was not taking no for an answer. Chucky stopped and for a brief moment actually looked like he was reflecting on something. His head lowered before he exhaled calmly and paced a hand on his youngest daughter's shoulder as he got to her eye level.

"Aw, kid, why do you have to be so headstrong like your old man?"

"I learned it from watching you," she gave a hopeful smile. Then Chucky did something that took Ozzy, Shauna, and even Lottie off guard. He embraced his daughter. Like, head on hers, arms around her shoulders –a full real hug that lasted more than two seconds. Lottie, blinked stunned, then tightly returned it.

"You're gonna bleed this city dry one day, Lottie. I've always been so proud of you, but I'm sorry. This hurts me so much more than you."

"What?" Chucky was swift and painless with his strike on his youngest daughter's pressure point on the backside of her shoulder blade. Thanks to kids like Andy, Chucky had all too much experience knocking kids out. Fuck, that sounds wrong and this is a sensitive moment, what's wrong with me?

Lottie went limp and her father caught her before she hit the ground. He then carried her over to Ozzy and Shauna.

"Chucky?" Ozzy questioned as Chucky handed her over.

"Anything happens to her, you both die," was all he said before sprinting back into the fray once more.

Deacon Burton had both Glen and Glenda in his grasps, clutching them by their faces and holding them up high. Tiffany was pinned under his boot and he was generous when it came to crushing her beneath his weight. Three knives, two of which were Glen's tanto and Mr. Smiley stuck out his back like Solomon Grundy in Injustice. He was probably stabbed over 100 times yet he was still going.

"There's no slaughter quite like a family slaughter," Burton mused, "The gravity of who you're dealing with may have finally set in. Damballa's gifts from years of study, dedication, and sacrifice can do far more than enhance one's physical attributes. There are also some spiritual enhancements. Examples, I can see your very souls and what you really are." He looked down at Tiffany clawing at his boot, "You are nothing special," then back up at the twins, "but you two…you two have some sort of connection. One of voodoo origin and nature, I can see them attracting towards each other like magnets. Curious, I wonder if you are—NO! It's impossible I tried myself for years! Still, it never hurts to try."

Deacon Burton held the twins closer together before breaking into an all too familiar chant. "Ade due Damballa…"

The second he started saying 'give me the power I beg of you,' Glenda's breathing suddenly became erratic as her chest start rising and falling. Glen went completely limb in his grasp. Then, they started screaming. This wasn't pained screams. It was screams of begging for either mercy or death. You didn't need x ray vision to know that under Burton's massive palms, the most horrified expressions on their hidden faces.

"NO! NO! STOP! DON'T! PLEASE!" Glen screamed and punched at the hand and arm that subdued him. "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!"

"NO! NOT AGAIN! I WON'T GO BACK EVER AGAIN! DON'T SEND ME BACK! I'M GLENDA! I'M ME!" Glenda screamed even louder than her brother, clawing at Burton's other hand.

"LET MY KIDS FUCKING GO!" Tiffany was now in on it too. She couldn't stand, literally and figuratively, to see her babies like this.

Deacon Burton was at the seventh verse when he was interrupted in classic Child's Play fashion. Obviously, Burton wasn't holding the axe anymore. He had thrown it at Tiffany moments ago who managed to dodge it while it embedded itself in a tree. It was an amateur mistake on the master's part leaving it unattended as Chucky claimed. With his signature battle cry, he slammed the axe into one of his calves. He also did a cool spin move and buried the axe into the front of his leg too. Burton screamed mid chant and dropped the twins and got off Tiffany. He stumbled before he inevitably fell over, still far from beat –just a minor setback.

"Kids, Tiff.." Chucky knelt by his incapacitated family. They were all awake and conscious but had no fight left in them. Glenda was in the fetal position now and shaking, Mr. Smiley clutched against her chest. Glen was staring up at the night sky with a blank stare on his face, like he just had a near death experience –not like getting murdered, but killed in an accident that he actually caused.

"Chucky.." Tiffany slowly pulled herself up. A huge dirty boot print was now stained into her white dress and some on her jacket. She put both hands on his face as Glen and Glenda eventually came too and just crawled over to her and put their heads in her lap. Chucky put his hands on both of them. Burton had all his composure back as well. Tiffany glared at him as he Michael Myers walked over to them. "Kill him, Chucky! Do not fucking let that man draw another breath!" her voice cracked as she cradled the twins.

Burton had stopped, like he was expecting Chucky. You could do a really good cinematic shot of Chucky looking over his shoulder with murder in his eyes here. Chucky turned to meet his maker, we're getting back into 1v1 territory. Dragging the axe behind him, he paced forward like a duel. Burton was not without a weapon. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sheathed blade. This one was as long as a short sword. Burton was ceremonious with unsheathing it, uttering a small chant as he did. The blade looked a lot like Chucky's red voodoo knifes but instead they were green and black.

"Come, little one, your final judgement awaits."

"I got your final judgement right here!"

Draw a comic panel of this. The two charged at each other screaming so loud that some of the lights in nearby apartments were turned on by the residents within. Chucky with the axe held right over his head ready to bring it down on any of Burton's limbs, preferably his head and Burton with his voodoo short sword at his hip ready to gut Chucky like a fish. A fully sized man can look cool fighting a much smaller but equally capable creature –look at Yoda vs. Darth Sidious.

Sparks flew as axe head collided with the short sword blade. Chucky was mostly on defense, blocking downward strikes, but he knew he would get an opening. He would have to. He would eventually get an opening and tackle Burton by him injured leg. Chucky pounded his elbow at the wound and slightly exposed bone, trying to break it but with no luck. Burton would only drop to one knee. As quick as that happened, he reached and grabbed Chucky by his own leg. To keep himself from being pulled away , Chucky buried the axe in the dirt and held on for dear life. The jingling of the amulets Chucky wore under his clothes was louder than ever.

"Give me those amulets, little one!"

"Fuck you!" Chucky began kicking with his free leg upwards directly into Burton's gut. Once again, no recoil or reaction from the Deacon who had begun pulling even harder. Chucky couldn't take the torque anymore and his fingers sipped from around the axe handle. Burton was anything but holding back when he slammed Chucky belly down on the lawn. Tiny fake teeth flew from his mouth as his jaw came crushing down. He was lucky enough to have not bit off his tongue. The little dentals sprinkled across the grass never to be found again. Burton make a mistake when he let go of Chucky's leg to attempt to drive his dagger into his back like a vampire stake, but Chucky rolled over to avoid it as it pinned to the soil next to him. Chucky then drove his foot onto Burton's fingers on the hilt. That did cause him to let go off the weapon but only for a little bit. Burton attempted to pin Chucky down again, holding him down with one hand. But by the time he went for his neck with the other, Chucky had reached over had claimed his dagger from where it stood. All he had to do was hold it out in front of him for the Deacon's open hand to come down on it.

"YOU WILL SUFFER FOR THAT!" Burton tore the dagger that impaled his palm with his teeth and flung it away, far from both their reaches. He fed Chucky nothing but his bloody fist as he punched and hooked his face with all the ferocity of a UFC pro. Between a couple right and left hooks he even put both of his hands together and fucking downward smashed his face like an ape. At first Chucky attempted to block them, then he didn't bother. Burton would let up eventually right when he gets tired? No that was far from the case. His stitches split and blood covered his face as it began to bruise. Ozzy could've sworn he heard a 'kraka-kroom' somewhere in there he was hitting him so hard.

"He's getting his fucking ass kicked out there! We got to do something!" Ozzy cried at Shauna from where they hid by the Lion statue.

"That guy is tearing up the park! He's not human! What can you do?" Ozzy then handed her Lottie, still in unconscious exile. He then glanced at the mark on his wrist.

"Apparently, I'm not exactly human either. Maybe I can pull some hero shit like before. I mean nothing else has worked on this fucking guy."

Burton was now strangling Chucky with the Soul of Damballa and his half the Heart. With some effort, the Deacon was able to return to his fee and held Chucky out as he hung in front of him. Chucky was slipping in and out of it. His face was like somebody splashed red and purple paint on it.

"You chose a weak path and that is why you lose!" Burton used the necklace chains as a sort of sling to hurdle Chucky across the park for what seemed like the umpteenth time. Chucky wasn't registering hits anymore, he had lost count. So there's no telling what number the crash against the Cowardly Lion statue was. Not only did he leave a massive dent in the metal character's back, he also broke it from the base and it fell over like a dictator being toppled. Imagine that, the Cowardly Lion letting his courage get to him that he becomes a despotic ruler of Oz. That's pretty funny if was the one from the movie.

So, right when Chucky smashed into the statue. Ozzy screamed and Shauna jumped. Now, there was nothing separating Burton from them. Claiming the axe because it was closer to him, the Deacon moved towards them, both the amulets now around his neck.

"Acolyte, it's time."

Ozzy was squeezing Shauna closely, backing away. Shauna couldn't help but hold Lottie close like the doll she was.

"Eat…a bag of dicks…Ivan. I'll…never fucking stop." Chucky spat at him from where he lay as he paced by him. In a pure spite move, Burton was extra sure to step on him as he inched closer to the couple. He stepped on the back of his head so you know that Chucky got a mouthful of dirt. Burton then held the two pieces of Heart of Damballa together and whispered a small to-verse chant over them. A red light appeared along the crack which had broken it in two. It glowed briefly before fading away, and so did the crack. The Heart was one again, and Burton had the Soul too. It was fully sinking in for Ozzy and Shauna..

"Just…just fuck off." Ozzy then held his wrist at him like he had with LaGarrette. Of course, his hand still shook like a hyperactive kid. "I'm not about to be complicit in the fucking end of the world."

"It's no end. It's a glorious new beginning."

"That's fucking poison Kool-Aid talk!" Shauna barked.

At that moment, the birthmark on Ozzy's wrist began to glow like it had before. "Oh yeah! You're fucked now, buddy!" He's really getting a handle on this magic shit.

The buzzing of an electric coil filed the air and for a moment the park was illuminated a bright blue. Perhaps leftover from LaGarrette, he still had some juice in him. Ozzy gripped his wrist as thin bolts of electricity shot from the snake eye that was his birthmark. It was a nice placebo thinking that squeezing harder would make it shoot more –phrasing.

Is this the part where Ozzy saves the day? No. No, not at all. Burton just stood there –he really was all slash rolled into one and just allowed his body to light up like a Christmas tree. The raw power burned and singed his clothes –his entire left sleeve was burned away and scorch marks began appearing on his neck. Ozzy kept this up for nearly 15 seconds, his face dropping with each passing one as Burton smiled and shook slightly as he just continued to tank it. Even the grass around him was starting to burn away. At last Ozzy ran out of power and he lowered his wrist in the most dejected and hopeless way. Burton's happiness with them was genuine.

"So you do truly know who you are, Acolyte," the now smoking man spoke, "I have come across several of your past reincarnations, and not one of them has even remotely done what you have. Mainly because they kill themselves when they learn their divine purpose. But you, you tried to survive at all cost and with the help from these insects no less. I wonder perhaps maybe you enjoy the position of being the chosen one?" Ozzy didn't answer him, he just clutched his fists at his sides. Shauna, however, wasn't remaining quiet and lowered Lottie to her side and held her more so like a doll.

"Just fucking die!" She screamed and wound up a punch. Shauna didn't have a weapon on her but she could still throw a mean punch. She broke a skater from Oklahoma City's face one time at a derby. But because Burton was a fucking death lord he simply sidestepped and back handed our favorite athlete across the face. Shauna went down instantly and burton didn't stop there. He kicked her in her side, the very same side where her burn from LaGarrette was. As you can imagine, this caused more than discomfort let's say. Lottie had gone flying from her hand and landed still passed out a couple feet away.

"SHAUNA!" Ozzy tried reaching for her but Burton was quick to catch his arm.

"I need you whole and alive for the ritual. But, I don't need any surprises from you anymore." Burton held his arm before him, looking at the mark of Damballa in approval. Then he twisted it over and put his other hand under Ozzy's elbow and pushed up.

Ozzy was not a graceful screamer or crier, so when his arm broke and the bone fractured and tore through his skin where his elbow joint was. Snot, tears, spit and everything else just flew from his face. He was on his knees and shaking in the next second.

"P-please…" All he could do was whimper. Burton scoffed as he kicked him over on his side then flipped him on his back with the same foot nonchalantly. He didn't care where his arms went, as long as the mark was facing up. The broken bone helped do that naturally by nearly twisting the whole thing around.

"When I get in my new body I would prefer if I had the best functionality, but if you continue to resist, I will break the rest of your bones. Understand me?" This guy is really fucking patronizing. Ozzy in all his tear and snot drenched glory could only nod reluctantly. Was this it? This is how it ends? Ozzy pounded his head against the ground in defeat. It wasn't just him. Like everyone was going to fucking die, world's fucking over. Kind of because of him. It was so damn crazy. It's so crazy that Ozzy just started laughing –cry laughing at that. The Deacon raised an eyebrow.

"Enjoy it," he laughed, "When you get in here, you might get an instant buzz with the blood I have rushing through my veins…and out my fractured fucking arm." Burton chuckled.

"You're not the first jester I've inhabited, boy. But if you are into that sort of thing," he took the Soul and Heart of Damballa out, "Allow me to treat you to the greatest high of them all. Ade due Damballa, I bring the Acolyte forth to bring you to our world!" That chant started out terrifying.

Fresh tears welled up in Ozzy's eyes as he looked up and saw storm clouds hover over the park in the most unnatural way. Like one moment they weren't there, the next minute they were. The wind suddenly picked up from gales to bursts and the trees around the park shook. This chant was different from the standard one and had much more verses. Ozzy was freaking out but was able to pick up weird words like "wagnaggle, mortrex, and even f'tang." It's a weird fucking way to do spells. You think Damballa made his chants sound silly on purpose so he can hear people sound like oafs?

"Listen...if we could-" Ozzy's pleas fell on deaf ears as Burton continued the chant. He frantically glanced around the park. Shauna was down nearly passed out from the fresh pain in her side, Lottie was still out, Chucky was still face down, and Tiffany was weakly cradling the twins who seemed to be more distant from each other now. It was pretty hopeless. The lighting the storm clouds emitted was not right at all either. It was red and stretched long across the skies in unusual ways. A portal was going to open a giant fucking god as going to come out and point at them, he just knew it.

"LISTEN TO FUCKING REASON!" Ozzy screamed and cried, now shaking on the ground. The Deacon just chanted louder and the storm began roaring as if shouting right back.

Get ready to be fucking happy, reader. Ozzy's broken arm naturally flailed like a noodle as he failed around in resistance, but when he had tired himself out, it landed in such a way that his open palm and by extension wrist faced directly at Lottie nearby where she had fallen. He was under more extreme stress than ever, and the mark did what it always did –react. It began glowing, but Burton suspected nothing, thinking it part of the spell. He had broken the arm anyway, it couldn't work now, or so he thought.

Just like Glenda back at Jon's apartment, the unconscious Lottie slowly levitated off the ground. No one saw this happening, except Lottie herself who was beginning to come to.

"Where…dad? Dad! Did that fucker just nerve strike me!?" she woke up angry, recalling everything. Then she noticed she was hovering four feet off the ground. "Hey…what the hell is this? Osborne?" She saw what the Deacon was doing as she took in the scene around them.

Before the youngest Ray could say another word she was off. Like, she was really fucking off like a bullet. The best part was that Deacon Burton was directly in her path. Of course, she and he had no time to react to it. In that same instant, Lottie blew through Burton's gut like a fucking cannonball. If this was a comic the onamnapoeia would've been "splorch" in all caps. Lottie did make it fully through him, but she got stuck in his midsection and stuck out like chest burster with his viscera and blood coating her. His intestines wrapped around her neck like a scarf. Burton had stopped chanting alright, his mouth agape and he looked down at the doll protruding from his mid-section. Ozzy had an equally dumfounded look as well.

"W-what just happened? Where am I?" Lottie looked around, one of her hands stuck out with her, "Oh my…OH FUCK…HOLY SHIT!"

"What…in Damballa…" Burton was equally as stunned. He stumbled like the soon to be dead man he was. There as silence as the storm around them died down and Lottie struggled to get free.

Then there was laughter. It was Tiffany. She was hoping to see that her youngest daughter was safe, but this was just ridiculous. Seconds later, Glenda joined her, then Glen. This actually stirred Chucky who slowly began to raise his head, and his familiar laugh joined the chorus as well. Shauna even got a kick out of it as she clutched her side and pointed and laughed. That's right. Winning is fun.

Lottie managed to free her other arm, pulling it from Burton's stomach and shaking the bile off it. He gurgled and fell onto his side, his stumbling dance that amused the Rays now over. Lottie still struggled to free herself from the organic prison.

"Ozzy!" Shauna was back up, but her side still stung. She fought through to help her boyfriend. She used her hoodie as a makeshift sling for his broken arm.

"We're still here, Shauna! We're still here!" he celebrated. Nearby, Chucky was also puling himself up, "You good there, Chuck?"

"Better than fucking ever." They met Tiffany and the twins by Burton's writhing bodies.

"If everyone doesn't mind, I really don't want to spend all summer stuck inside THIS FUCKING GEEZER!"

"I gotcha, kid." Chucky grabbed both her hands and pulled her out of the cavity. Now it as Burton's turn to moan in anguish. He's been hurt really bad before, it's just been awhile since anyone has actually managed to. More viscera and entrails where stuck to Lottie as she was pulled free. This didn't deter her family from embracing her.

"I saw that! You were a fucking living weapon!" Glen held his younger sister's hands. Tiffany kissed her face, not caring about getting blood on her lips.

"You kids, you kids are going to the death of me someday, but I love you so!" she was borderline hysterical.

"Beautiful form, sis," Glenda rustled her hair. Chucky now had the voodoo dagger that Burton had lost in their scuffle, having found it laying nearby.

"It'll be years before I top that, kid." He placed an arm around her. Lottie smiled at him, right before kicking him in the shin. Chucky yelped and bounced on one foot and he held it.

"That's for nerve striking me –I love you, dad."

"Somewhat warranted." Chucky agreed. Their attention was drawn back to Burton when he coughed and gagged loudly. At least the portion of his lungs that were left were functioning for the time being.

"You whelps think you won? You think this is over?" You could really see through the hole in him. That couldn't have been the smartest things to say to the Rays at that moment with them being armed and all.

"Well, yeah." Chucky was the first one to pounce on him, followed by his wife and children. Chucky had dibs on his chest while the others struck him wherever they could, alternating between stabbing and kicking. Basically, Burton was Stormfront and they were The Boys. You can bet that there was chorus of curses and insults as they ripped him apart. Burton could only fight back in vain and incapacitated. The sound of blades stabbing flesh was almost rhythmical.

"THIS IS FOR JULIE!" was Glen's mantra.

"YOU'LL NEVER THREATEN MY FAMILY WITH YOUR SHIT AGAIN!" Tiffany pulled his face towards hers and screamed this directly at him as she pretty much severed his shoulder.

"HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE ON YOUR FUCKING BACK FOR ONCE!?" Chucky laughed as he tried to stab to his heart an turning his chest into swiss cheese.

"FUCK YOU AND FUCK YOUR GOD!" Lottie was going for the big veins and arteries.

"YOUR MOM GAY!" That is so fucking typical of Glenda.

Ozzy and Shauna were just watching it happen. The great thing about the Acolyte powers is that Ozzy doesn't need to hit people directly which is something he really can't do for shit, so he just sat it out. It did feel good to watch though. Shauna suddenly jumped and landed directly on Burton's left foot, breaking it instantly. She didn't stop there; she keep stomping at it until the bone was pulverized and the foot was severed. Ozzy looked offended.

"What the fuck, Shauna?"

"Hey, they opened the restaurant, I'm just ordering from the menu." That's why Shauna isn't a good team captain.

The Rays did eventually slow down. They knew that Chucky would have the last word with Burton. The Deacon was at death's door, it goes without saying now. Chucky would have his face be the last one he sees. He held Burton by his neck, the Deacon could at least see him with his one good eye.

"You had to think this was going to happen one day, Ivan. When you started doing this weird apprentice fetish you had to at least think, 'what if one is better than me?' Tonight's the night, motherfucker. It's me!" Burton let out a gargled snarl.

"You're…just as…naïve…as that day. All…you have done…is further seal…you and…your loved one's fates…I will be…back, little one. The Acolyte…is mine…you can't…keep him…from me. You can't…deny…destiny. I'm going…to get him…then I'm going…to get your family….no matter what." Chucky was smirking at him the entire time.

"You really do talk a lot. I always did tune out after a couple of minutes. Just…shut the fuck up already." Chucky threw his former master's head back and stomped on his jaw. The first one dislodged it, the second one broke it, and the third one severed it. The bottom of his shoes couldn't get more redder. Using Burton's own dagger, Chucky's drove straight into his skull in what can be argued as his most merciful killing to date. He roared as he pressed the blade through bone and brain. He twisted it a couple times too. Burton didn't have a mouth to fall open or screak anymore, his tongue just hung from the back of his throat. The ground and soil around him soaked in his blood and the Deacon's movements slowed. And in that moment, Deacon Burton, Jack The Ripper, The New Orleans Axeman, and so much more was gone.

Ozzy and Shauna held each other and they wobbled over to the Rays now all catching their breathes. Chucky left the dagger in Burton's head as he slid off him before falling into Tiffany's arms. Not in pain or exhaustion, but triumph. Ozzy stared at the mutilated Deacon.

"Is that it? Is-is it over?" he asked. Chucky then tore the two amulets from the corpses neck and held them before slipping them around his own neck. He spat on Burton's dead face right after.

"Sure is, Ozzy. Sure fucking is." There was an inflection in his voice that made him sound like even he couldn't believe it. "Let's get the fuck out of here before the cops show. We're not too far from my place."

"How do we get there?" Ozzy asked, "The car bled to death because of Glenda. By the way, Glenda you really shouldn't have done that. That's like super bad for you."

"I can still taste the gasoline," said Glenda with a cheerful smile. Frowning wasn't going to make it go away. Chucky eyed the closest car across the street close to one of the local townhouses. A Nissan Altima, nothing special, but he could easily break in and hotwire it.

"Right there," he answered and lead the way there and set to work on it. He broke the window, shut off the alarm, and got the car started.

The car ride to the west wasn't as celebratory as you may have thought it was. Shauna was behind the wheel since Ozzy's dominate arm was broken. Lottie sat with him in the passenger seat, keen on making sure he was comfortable. He insisted he was, as anyone could be for someone with a bone sticking out. Chucky was in the back with Tiffany leaning on his should as he held the two amulets in his hands. The red and blue gemstones seemed to appear in his eyes like the red and blue pill in The Matrix. Glenda was cleaning the debris out of her from the long feud on one side of them while Glen looked out the window of the other. Ozzy finally broke the silence after a bit.

"The last couple hours have been the most fucked up of my whole life and I wouldn't wish them upon my worst enemy. But, I am pretty happy I had you guys to live through them with me. I mean, you guys literally saved my life multiple times. I just got to say thanks. Really, for everything."

"I love you too, Dreadie." Glenda made a kissy face from where she sat. Glen acknowledged him with a smile and nod. The twins were still purposely avoiding eye contact, he noticed.

"I can attest, being with you has been a new outlook on life as I know it," Lottie said.

Chucky and Tiffany, however, never stopped staring at the Heart and Soul of Damballa. It's unclear whether or not they even heard what Ozzy said. Regardless, Chucky just gave him a small wave without looking up.

"Yeah, yeah, you're great too."

"Yes, good job…being he chosen one." Shauna glanced at them through the mirror. She hoped that they were just psyched that the amulets were out of the Cult's hands like they had intended, but something wasn't sitting right with her. Still, she followed Chucky's directions, it was all she had to go on.

Soon they reached what once was Chucky's Chicago residence in what is a western subdivision of the city. Of course, the small home was foreclosed years ago. Some say that some people did live in there for a period of time, but they were never seen and the house was left in worse condition when they left. You can imagine all the crazy urban legends to arise from the dilapidated home of a serial killer. The homes around weren't that impressive or inhabited and some empty lots were available. The trash and littering wasn't as bad as it was 30 years ago, but junk littered the surrounding area like light snow rather than heavy.

"You really haven't been home in a while, haven't you?" Ozzy asked as Shauna stopped the car and they got out.

"Too long," Chucky said, helping Tiffany out of the car like Gomez would Morticia, "I need a Portillos dog with everything on it just so I can throw the sports peppers away. No one fucking likes those."

"I actually like sports peppers." Tiffany said.

"What? Since when!?"

"Acquired taste."

"Why and when would you acquire taste for sports peppers?"

"Sports peppers are included in some salads; you learn to like them. I'm not going to pick them out." Chucky looked unironically hurt. This banter continued until the group reached the front door with a foreclosed sign screwed on to it. Clearly, this property and area was meant to be forgotten. He kicked the door open and dust and wood particles flew everywhere as it swung.

The house was almost completely gutted. The only furniture left were broken ones and the walls were moldy and even collapsed in some areas. They were mostly room separating walls and not any of structural importance, so the house still stood. The first thing Chucky noticed when he walked in was the mural he had painted with Tiffany all those years ago. He had done the line work and she had painted. To get the higher parts of the wall done, he brough in scaffolding. It was funny, they always joked they were painting their own Sistine Chapel broken up by intermissions of paint fights. Chucky gave a peaceful sigh.

"Shit, it's good to be home." Ozzy and Shauna wobbled, now their method of walking, over to the dusty mural.

"Damn, I didn't know you were an artist, Chucky," Ozzy said, "So, are we just going to lay low for the time being while the shadow men and their church collapse?"

"That's a good idea, but let me counter offer. How about I take your body and do the ritual since I have both amulets and you now?"

"…Say what now?"

"SHIT!" Shauna went down as Glenda smashed a copper pipe against her leg. She didn't relent there and brought it down on her head. Shauna was down and out and an indent of her head was made in the thin copper pipe like a Tom and Jerry cartoon. When she fell, so did Ozzy since he had been leaning on her so much with his broken arm. It didn't help that he fell on it.

"SHAUNA! NO!" he screamed.

"Shauna, yes!" Glenda squealed in delight, "Oh man, I have been waiting to do that since the fucking start! Come on, give me fucking credit!"

"Congratulations, Glenda, you did what I asked you to. I understand how hard that is for you." Chucky deadpanned.

"Wait, so you're just going to kill me anyway after everything!?" Ozzy cried.

"Yeah…that was the point." Chucky walked too regally for his own good with both hands behind his back right onto Ozzy's chest, "You knew this, Ozzy. Right when we kill Burton and get both amulets –that's it. I told you that when Lottie brought you to us. Your girlfriend was just here as a bullshit show of good faith. In fact, it was this guy over here that actually suggested being nice." He pointed at his son. Glen was in the corner of the room, his arms folded and head lowered presumably in shame. He wasn't saying anything. "Now, assume the position, we got work to do."

"No…NO! You can't! I thought you-"

"With all that weed you smoke, I'm amazed you even have thoughts at all," Tiffany grabbed one of his legs to stop him from squirming. She did kind of hate him for being a bad influence on her kids.

"Hey, I get to keep him as my zombie slave after you do the spell right, dad? Right?" Glenda grabbed his other leg, no one was going to bother with his broken arm. But, Chucky was careful to keep anything that could be used as a weapon off the ground close by.

"Glen! Get your ass over here now! I need both hands for this ritual!" he shouted at his son.

Glen didn't respond. He didn't even look at his father. Instead, he just turned around and left the room. It didn't matter how many times Ozzy screamed his named or for his help. He was done here.

"GLEN! GLEN! YOU GET YOUR FUCKING ASS BACK HERE!" Chucky yelled after him.

"Ah, fuck him," Glenda spat, "He's been in the weeaboo game too long it turned him into an even bigger pussy than he already was!"

"Lottie! Help us out here!" Chucky turned to his youngest child. Lottie had been standing by the front door way, seemingly in a catatonic state as she watched her family subdue the person she had once called friends and brought her back in touch with her humanity since becoming a doll. There was some deliberating going on behind that blank stare of hers. Ozzy looked at her pitifully.

"Lottie…Lottie…please. I'm your friend."

At last Lottie moved. She paced towards Ozzy, who had stopped violently thrashing his good arm as he reached out to her. For a brief moment, Ozzy felt relief. Perhaps Lottie would speak to her father and everyone can get out of this alive. The Deacon is gone, there was no one left to be angry at. Afraid that was not the case.

Lottie, quick as a flash, stabbed Ozzy through the palm of his open hand and pinning it to the rotten wooden floor. It took Ozzy a second, but the bloodcurdling scream of betrayal came as he felt that hand grow wet and heavy with blood. Eyes as big as pound puppy, he looked eyes with Lottie, but was only met with a cold, blank stare.

"I'm sorry, Osborne, but this is where we part ways."


A wise man once said that voodoo is an inexact science. No, I'm just kidding, a fucking lunatic actually said that. Voodoo, like magic, takes years of study and absolutely no bullshit (even though magic itself is kind of bullshit). There's a reason why wizards are old. So in that sense, Deacon Burton is a wizard. And he learned the handy dandy "temporary afterlife" spell when he was 345. This cheesy little number allows the user to tether their soul to a completely dead body after expiration, but only for a limited time. You can't walk around as a zombie forever.

A few minutes after the Rays had left with Ozzy and Shauna, Burton used this spell. Like Nosferatu, the mangled unicorn (because he has a knife sticking out of his head like a horn, haha it's funny) corpse rose up. Since he was missing a foot, limping was the default movement. One of his hands was literally torn in two and the other had all the fingers missing. His tongue dangling with his lack of a lower jaw made him look like the zombie from the opening of Day of The Dead. He didn't need to breath like any zombie does, he just needed and had 10 minutes.

The quasi-zombie left the park and stuck to the shadows away from the street lights. If anyone saw that thing walking around at this time of night (and in general) they would probably just sprint towards the nearest wall and drive their heads into it. Burton was actually hoping to come across a host, but no such luck. Not at this time and during an unofficial city wide lockdown.

With the one eye he was able to see out of, the corpse glanced around the residences and business around the park. A pawn shop would catch his eye. If there's a pawn shop that means clothes, and where there's clothes there's mannequins. Maybe Chucky was onto something with that doll body –Burton just had to find ways to improve it.

He didn't have to break the door or lock, the voodoo-powered corpse just walked straight through the glass door without breaking a stride –glass and metal crumbled. The spell was wearing off quicker than expected due to the condition of the body his soul was tethered to. He had to be swift himself as he felt the decay. There was no mannequin in the small shop, but there was a doll.

A Little Washington doll, the XL three foot edition to be exact, was displayed on one of the top shelves behind the counter. Burton felt somewhat nostalgic seeing its little continental army uniform, he used to have one just like it. If he had lips he would've absolutely been licking them. Revenge was going to be so fucking sweet.