Ozzy honestly surprised Shauna with how much he could scream while running. His lungs truly were deceptively powerful. The two had run their way out into the main western neighborhood of Chicago only to be greeted with shuttered doors, closed shops, and a nearly barren main road through town with parked cars on either side. Shauna's obviously superior running form was highlighted by her lighter pitters against the ground while Ozzy clumsy stopped around making a much louder ruckus. There was also the fact that he trailed a couple of yards behind her, both of them cutting down an alley to the next block.
Shauna stopped suddenly when she heard the tumbling of trash cans, an unmistakable natural alarm that Ozzy had tripped and fallen. She wasn't in too much of a rush to pull him back up, there wasn't anything or anyone chasing them at the moment –for now. Ozzy was slumped on his front over one of three bins he had tripped over. It actually felt kind of good to take a break from running even like this.
"S-Shauna," he heaved, "W-we got nothing." He pretty much allowed his head to hit the side of the can as despair set in. Shauna had her hand on his back.
"Ozzy, we can't stop moving," she hissed and shook him.
"Why? Where are we even going? We don't know anywhere safe here, we're broke, we're stuck here on the cult's home turf, and in five months we're probably going to freeze to death out here in the winter assuming everything doesn't die!" Ozzy didn't lift his head as he hopelessly went on.
"We can try the police! At the very least, let's hit up the nearest ER because we look like shit."
"What if the cult has shadow men there or like, some weird political influence? They've been operating here for years Chucky said, they have to have members in high places."
"Now, you're just being paranoid, Ozzy."
"I'll be even more so if I'm put in a hospital room hooked up to a bed or detained in a police station with nowhere to run if they find us. That's a John Carpenter movie waiting to happen!" Shauna grunted in frustration and put both hands behind her head and she paced around Ozzy. This meant she was thinking.
"We just…we just got to leave town, buy more time until they find us again. Maybe we'll even get lucky and find someplace safe." Shauna was in the bargaining phase while Ozzy skipped right on over to acceptance.
"I need to hear something other than screaming and people getting sliced open," Ozzy lazily reached for his phone and just tossed it out on the ground in front of him, "If you want to call your loved ones, I guess now would be the time. Sorry, the Deacon guy stole your phone." Shauna didn't answer but she shook her head, she wasn't through yet.
Ozzy switched on his phone for the last time before it died and what he thought would be his life. Before his fingers could make a mad dash to the sad mumble rap playlist, the image that his phone immediately opened stopped them. As Ozzy squinted in the alley's darkness to the light of his smartphone screen, he did remember the last time he used his phone –back when things were somewhat ok and they at least had a chance.
It was the picture he took of himself, Shauna, and the Rays right after they dusted LaGarrette at the piers earlier that night. With the horizon and waters of Lake Michigan as the background and the skyline of the city visible up the shore, it really could be a postcard from Chicago. Ozzy's weakened eyes adjusted to the brightness as he scanned everyone in it. He unexpectedly found his breathing steadying after a small twinge of warmth washed over him.
It wasn't the best he and Shauna had ever looked for a picture, they both looked disheveled as hell after the scuffle with LaGarrette and had anything but good posture for the shoot. But there absolutely was something genuine about those smiles of triumph and security with the family of dolls surrounding them even given the events that would transpire right after that picture was taken.
Chucky was on cloud nine after an experience like that. Tongue out, holding Tiffany bridal style, one eye closed in a perfectly timed wink –this was a dude who took on a modern superpowered serial killer and won. That's an upset to be proud of. You would think that with the stitches and all, the foremost killer doll would be even scarier but those things really give his face more depth and expression. It wasn't scrunched up in anger or fury but rested and relaxed. Ozzy thought back at the betrayal at his hands he should've seen coming miles away. Even though he was his hostage like so many others had been, it was cool having Chucky himself act as a bodyguard for the time being. Ozzy had actually felt safe with him and his family even though the world would probably be a much better place without them.
Tiffany had her head back in muffling her laughter with her arms wrapped around her husband as he held her. Like her husband, she was bound to turn on them at a moment's notice, but respect had to be given for the mean joints she rolled. That, and Ozzy always found her and Chucky's dynamic as a couple adorable. You would think that they're like The Joker and Harley Quinn, but they're really more of Gomez and Morticia –if the Addams murdered and tortured people in their basement. Years of parenting also hardened her into the greatest straight man a goofball can ask for.
Glen, oh sweet noble Glen was hanging off Shauna's flexed arm in a ninja-Esque way, or like a panel from Spider-Man. He only needed one arm to do so with his trademark tanto blade in the other. He was the glue, he just had to be –the literal goodness holding that family together. If the family was a body he'd be the heart for sure. If playing the friendly card was really all his idea, then maybe that means he still believes his family can learn humility. Sad, there were times when both he and Ozzy had thought they perhaps had. Also, he was a total lightweight and it only took a couple of rips from a joint to put him on his ass –so, that always saved on the green.
It hurt to look at Lottie –seeing her smiling with her head in her palms as she sat on Ozzy's shoulders with her elbows resting on his head. She always has been like a liaison between her family and during their time together. Of course, this was all a ploy. Lottie knew all too well the time would come when she would need to do them in as her father said. But when Ozzy took her out of the box that evening at his apartment and she technically saved his life, natural child instincts of asking questions and even an interest in learning about why strangers are the way they are took over. The laughs, the close calls, the shared challenge of simply surviving, and everything they've been through the past four days was actually the most human experience of their lives. Screw whatever Shauna said. Lottie was a fucking child thrust into this horror show like her siblings. Ozzy shuddered as he recalled her being nearly burned and melted in the vents before –that shit was embedded in his hippocampus.
Glenda was there too with her head pressed against Ozzy's leg as she smiled big and wide with her razor teeth. She…uh….she's fucking Glenda.
It was Ozzy's turn to stand as he pulled himself up from the trash can he laid over, still not taking his eyes off the photo. Shauna was still pacing around, now mentally debating whether or not going to an Illinois National Guard base would be an option.
"Shauna…" Ozzy spoke up, "We have to go back." Shauna heard him but didn't, and couldn't, believe it.
"Say what?"
"Back. We have to go back for them." He closed out of his phone and pocketed it as he held her shoulder with his one good arm, "Voodoo got us into this mess, I just think it could be what gets us out. Chucky was our guy for that. I don't know if his game plans were always solid but at least he had a clue. The shadow men did say that the Deacon was still alive…so maybe we could find them and keep helping each other?" Shauna gave him a look meeting all the criteria of the perfect, "what the fuck is wrong with you?" face –eyebrow raised, eyes squinted, mouth agape, and head recoiled back.
"Ozzy, use your fucking head."
"No, really. What other choice do we have? Who's going to believe us if we do find help? This secret cult has been around for literal ages and no one still has ever heard of them! We could try playing the Chucky card in court too, but you know how that went for Andy Barclay and Nina Pierce!"
"Nica. Chucky said her name was Nica."
"Yes, honestly I kind of phased out after he started talking about her. His stories just stopped being compelling. That shit is beside the point –point is he's our best bet in all of this. If there's anyone who could get through something like this, it's him. Plus, the guy has a family too."
"So did Andy and Nica. This is Chucky we're talking about. He's probably chasing us down right now. Pretty sure he's not going to want to keep me around anymore. If we backtrack, you're going to get me killed!"
"I just saw you take the lives of two men back there, Shauna. Which we will need to talk about later because you looked way too into it with that hammer."
"I wasn't…enjoying it." The sport she plays revolves around hurting other people which is exactly why she signed up for it. You know why she became a roller derby skater? It's so she could beat on chicks and not get in trouble for it. Also, she had somewhat of a criminal history before going to community college. I don't know if it's too late in the story to talk about this, but it's out there.
"But the Rays do, and that's why we need them. If the Deacon got to them before, then maybe Chucky doesn't have the amulets anymore so he can't do the ritual." Shauna placed a hand on Ozzy's that sat on her shoulder. After a brief moment of thought, she more or less compromised.
"Ok…I'll just humor you and walk back to his house and see who or what we find –not making any promises about stomping the shit out of anyone. If there's nothing, we cut our losses and hole up at an ER. You said 'if' the Deacon got to them before us –does that mean you also think he took his anger out on Chucky for what you and Lottie did to him?"
"No…Chucky's been through much worse. Hasn't he?"
As Chucky regained consciousness wherever he was, you can already tell the shot you would be seeing if this was a movie. The fade-in from the darkness as his eyes open, the blurred vision of the odd tree fort-Esque ceiling with mock wood, and the sound of his frantic breathing becoming steady. That's exactly what he was experiencing. Chucky was all too familiar with the sensation of missing limbs and knew he was down a left arm and right leg. He was still regaining his vision when he tried closing his right hand and moving his left foot –neither was happening. Chucky soon saw why along with just about everything else, groaning as he did.
Frick had his hand pinned to the table he lay on in the center of the room which I'll be describing in just a moment. The knife went through his palm and the table, protruding from the underside. Frack was jammed through his shoe and foot in the same fashion. Chucky could only writhe and struggle. That sucks.
Where he found himself was surreal in every sense of the word. It looked like a run-down movie set, like so many he had been on while hiding in L.A. This shit though, this shit was personal. Burton had them taken back to the old Play Pal Corporation headquarters and factory in the South Side and they sat in the very same room where they used to shoot the commercials when the Good Guy dolls were first released. How a real estate of this magnitude stayed unoccupied for so long was a mystery since they shut their doors permanently in 2010. Maybe businesses saw it as a liability, maybe it was the bad mojo, or maybe people don't manufacture as much in Chicago anymore. The set was designed as the magical tree house headquarters where the character of the "Good Guy" supposedly lived where he helps kids all day –the cartoon show only got two seasons. Of course, the whole place was delipidated and just decimated by age with the mock wood being more rustic than lumber-like. Torn Good Guy banners and flyers were strung about the ceiling with only a couple of lights dimly lighting the room –guess the cult fired up the old backup generator, could the whole factory and headquarters actually still work? Chucky felt himself grow sick, remembering the last time he was in this building. That sucks too.
Oh right, his wife and two kids were there too. Chucky didn't have to look far to find them, at least Burton had the decency to keep them all in the same room together. But that only meant he knew they were watching what he was going to do to them. Tiffany lay on his right, strewn over a backless old director's chair. Burton had reworked the Soul of Damballa as a chain bind for her wrists. Tiffany's head hung over the back of the chair with the open wound on her breast still oozing little by little down her neck and over her chin and onto a small puddle on the ground. Her dress was far more red than white by now as she weakly breathed, eyes only squinting open. That sucks as well.
To his left was Glen. He was quite literally hanging over by the overturned and broken cameras of yesteryear, all complete with shattered lenses and missing hardware. The tree house set had a tire swing, suspended by an aged and now spikey rope. The shadow men had stuffed Glen into it as old-school bullies do to the smallest kid before rolling him down a hill. Fortunately, they didn't break his bones to do so, but that can't be said for his crushed hand. Glen had his head lowered as the tired spun slowly around, Chucky could see his left eye swollen and purple as blood dripped from his gasping mouth. That also sucks.
Glenda was there too a couple of feet from him. The shadow men had obviously done a number on her -hair ripped in places, bruises and welts all over, and tears in her dress. They had subdued her with a jump rope they had obviously found lying around. It was done by her wrists or ankles, they fully wrapped around her like a snake. It was one of those huge double dutch ones so it had more than the length. She was on her back, her head lolled back, her mouth agape, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head like she was dead. She probably was, she didn't look like she was breathing. That really sucks.
Wow, this must be what despair feels like. Chucky didn't feel like screaming -when the worst-case set is realized, it will often suck that energy out of you because what would be the point of that? His thoughts turned to his youngest. At least Lottie wasn't here. Before Chucky could float the idea of where she could be or whether or not she was able to make it to Ozzy, he suddenly felt his hair being yanked. His head had no other option but to be pulled with it.
Burton, in all his Little Washington glory with not one mark on him from their last encounter, stood over him. Shadow men stood at either side of the closed door leading out to the rest of the headquarters and factory. His hard grip on his former apprentice's hair softened as his palm opened and fingers ran through his locks. It was like a father rubbing his son's head and it made Chucky sick.
"It's just like old times, isn't it, little one? At least from your perspective. I've missed this." The Deacon took one of many verbal victory laps.
"Look here, this is between you and-" Chucky didn't get to finish as Burton brought down the back of his head against the table he was pinned to. Whether the splitting crack sound was from Chucky's head or the table destabilizing was ambitious. He didn't scream out, only groaned.
"Never speak while I am. You and your tongue seem to cause nothing but trouble everywhere you go." The two shadow men standing at the door moved in. One of them playfully spun the tire swing that Glen was compressed in. Chucky's son could only groan in discomfort as his head hung down. The other was poking at Glenda, who continued to look dead as hell. Burton moved his hand from Chucky's head to his neck. He squeezed hard enough that the very tongue he spoke of squirmed abruptly as Chucky gasped.
"Just...let them go. I'll scream all you want you sick fuck...just not my kids." Chucky always had a habit of faking meeting people halfway when they have him against the wall. This may not have been one of them. Burton laughed in his face as expected.
"You should've thought of that before you started breeding." He then traced his finger to right where Chucky's mini lungs would be and simply said, "Blood eagle, it was always your favorite." He finally took his hands off Chucky for the time being to walk around the room with these arms around his back as he surveyed the incapacitated Rays. He was over at Glen first just when he was turning toward him out of his own control because of the tire swing. Burton smiled at him.
"Heretic's fork, you got the neck for it." Glen shuddered and sneered at him. Burton did the same as he walked over to Glenda's unmoving form. Either she was really dead or she was buying her time for something in a convincing way. Her family hoped for the latter. Even in his new body, Burton still looked at Glenda in disgust.
"I suppose I could nail your tongue for starters," he said looking at it in particular. Glenda didn't move or answer, even when Burton flicked her tongue hanging out from her maw. Ok, she might really be dead. Chucky actually weakly called out to her in response. Tiffany did the same before Burton stood over her like he had done her family.
"You. We are going to have so much fun with my pears of anguish." Tiffany actually had the most strength out of her husband and children at the moment. The way Burton was smiling at her reminded her of creeps of days past in the trailer park. This guy was really trying her too. He was crushing up and snorting any gram of class she had from her time as Jennifer Tilly.
"Take your fucking pills, great-great grandpa, you're ancient and crazy. You're not setting your hands on me! We're gonna kill you! Tonight!" she rose her head and hissed. This actually earned a snicker from Chucky and a small smile from Glen -even small losing fights are still resistance. Glenda did nothing. I'd say someone check on her, but one of the shadow men already was cautiously poking at her. The other one held back, more focused on his master than his peer.
"Hm. I see why you fell for her, little one," he spoke over to Chucky, "That kind of language coming out of that pretty, little mouth with such a voice. Pity, she doesn't have a talent for theatre. Ms. Tilly's movies really took a turn for the worst after you became her. You know you don't inherit the gifts of whose body you possess, correct?"
"Old sack of shit!" Tiffany barked. She need not be reminded. So, she couldn't act professionally as she thought. So, she won four Razzies in a row. So, she lost her cool once and bit the nose off of Don Mancini when he tried adapting Chucky's story into a movie? So, what?
"Fucking old bag!" she barked.
"You can't help you lack talent. Worry not, I have some ideas of what you can be good for."
"Um, Deacon?" the shadow man had his fill of poking Glenda. She just wasn't moving. "I think this one might be dead." I've been saying that for paragraphs. That's when the shadow man made his last mistake -he picked up the motionless Glenda and held her out in front of him in inspection.
Burton didn't get to question it nor did Chucky, Tiffany, or Glen call out her name for a response. Glenda's eyes suddenly rolled back down to reveal tiny, predator-like pupils against her teal irises like a shark. But unlike a shark, she roared to life as one of her arms came free from her improv restraint and she dug her shards of broken nails into the clavicle of the screaming shadow man. Then the worst thing ever happened to him -Glenda crunched down on his neck.
Burton raised an eyebrow as Chucky and Tiffany began laughing at, or rather with, their daughter. Glen would have at least smirked from the bottom of his heart, but not in this case when that shadow man could've been him less than a couple of hours ago. All he did was cringe. The shadow man was now stumbling and tearing around the room as he screamed trying to pry Glenda from him. Everything from "help me!" to "it hurts!" echoed around the tree fort-like room. He actually almost had her. But he was pulling her when she was clamped down on his trachea and larynx and a taffy of gore stretched from her mouth to his neck as his screaming literally took its pitch to new heights. Glenda began chewing the apple-like ball of neck glands as the shadow man fell and she tumbled alongside him. She was still chewing when she hit the ground. The other shadow man cowered near Burton which was pretty amusing considering he was in a doll body. Chucky and Tiffany continued laughing and hollering at their daughter and mocking Burton as the shadow man left a pond of blood on the floor and twitched his last. Glenda finally spat her macabre chewing gum out, the viscera she bit into over and over again was reduced to a crimson paste. She was sure to spit it in Glen's direction.
"That's disgusting, Glenda." he gagged. He was looking down at the floor since he couldn't move his head a whole lot trapped in the tire swing, not that he wanted to see his family getting tortured or any other unspeakable thing occurring in that room. The wad of gore Glenda spat landed right in his sight so he really had no choice.
"HAHA! BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD!" Glenda raised her arm and threw her head back and cheered. Blood spattered about from her razor-toothed maw. She had whole new motivation as a creature and not a human being and she was embracing it. Glen felt it was his fault and couldn't bring himself to look at her, at least for the moment. Burton nonchalantly paced over to Glenda, who was continuing her rallying cry praising the almighty plasma.
"Be silent, creature," he drove his foot into her side with such power that the subdued Glenda did a full roll in the air before landing on her stomach -and chin by extension. Chucky and Tiffany stopped laughing then.
"HEY! FUCKING TOUCH MY KID AGAIN-"
"YOU'RE GOING TO BE SORRY AS SHIT-"
"SHUT UP!" Burton reached over his shoulder. Apparently, beneath the clothes of the Little Washington doll he had equipped his green saber of Damballa (that's what I'm calling it now) -the same dagger that could be considered a short sword with how long the blade was he used in Oz Park. The fact that he had it the whole time when he was beating down Chucky and Tiffany and did this to them without using it -that tells you stuff. He slammed the point of it against the ground like a spear and it made a defiant metallic bang that echoed around the faux wood room.
"We will have all the playtime in the world, but my mortal patience wears thin. Where is the Acolyte?"
"I feel we've been here before. He's out of our hands-had everything under control before your dumbass showed up!" Chucky would continue to defy him at every turn, even if it was with the truth.
"You're short a spawn." Burton finally mentioned Lottie, "Did you entrust the Acolyte to her? A child?"
"She still smells like your guts by the way." Chucky sneered. Burton was on Chucky's neck once again, this time with the point of his blade hovering inches from one of his eyes as he held him down.
"Oh, out of all your family, she will suffer the most. I promise you that-"
"Deacon!" a new shadow man entered the room. This is good because I don't plan on dragging this out into a full-on torture scene. "We've found the building's master key in the offices, the factory and warehouse floors are now open to us!" This got Burton to quit strangling Chucky before resting his blade on his shoulders like a buster sword.
"Excellent. We can begin the revolution...I want you to see, little one. I want you to see what you have done for us before you die." He cryptically told Chucky before making his way out the door but not before ordering the now two (at least alive) shadow men in the room to stay where they are. "Keep it civil and above the belt," he told them, "You will know when the conversion begins."
"Ivan...what the fuck are you planning?" The Deacon couldn't hear Chucky, he had already left. He sighed as the two shadow men sized up him and his family -more suckage incoming. He could hear the others collectively groaning too. At least Lottie wasn't here.
"I'm pretty sure we came this way," Shauna said. She and Ozzy had returned to the subdivision, right back the way they came. The small in-and-out-of-development neighborhood was nowhere near as lit on the streets as the nearby town was and that just made Ozzy more spooked about shadow men lurking in the darkness where they had just seen them. He clutched Shauna's hand as she traveled ahead of him, head darting in all directions. He really hoped they would soon reach Chucky's house and just see him and his family on a mountain of dead shadow men. That's not a bottom-of-his-heart hope, that was what he was genuinely banking on.
"I wonder if anyone actually lives around here," he said aloud, eyes darting around all the modest darkened homes as they passed. As if on cue, one of the front doors opened and a lady in a bonnet and gown stood in the illuminated light of the doorway that spilled out onto the street.
"Hey! Anyone out there!" Now, what makes this situation funny is that Shauna and Ozzy stopped dead in their tracks and she so obviously was staring them down. The woman in the house had an eyebrow raised and hands on her hips as they just awkwardly looked back at her. She saw them as anything but a threat based on their injuries,
"Uh..no? Go back to sleep. It's cool, everything's cool." Ozzy just as awkwardly called to her. She placed a hand on the door after a brief moment of thought.
"Ok..." She closed the door and the lights went off in the house. That was it -nothing came of it. Honestly, the world would be a much better place if all interactions went like this. Shauna pulled him as they continued on -both think how nice it would be to be in someone like that's shoes in a home without a care in the world or an evil cult chasing them.
A couple of houses and yards (literal and the measurement) later, Ozzy and Shauna came to the collapsed and crumbled shell of the house they had last seen the shadow men and Lottie. Even the air around it was still grey from the debris and materials being pulverized under their own weight. In a couple of places, limbs, and body parts stuck out of the destroyed wood, concrete, and drywall. No worries, none were twitching. In those areas, scarlet coated the grey debris, and the smell of blood mingled with the already rustic smell of demolition. Shauna could feel Ozzy shaking as she held his hand and grabbed one of the protruding arms from the wreckage then pulled. As you expected, it wasn't connected to anything. Ozzy jumped but stopped shaking as Shauna tossed it aside.
"No way anyone under that is alive," she said.
"You think that Lottie made out or the others came looking for her?" Ozzy asked.
"Only one way to find out." Shauna knelt down and began moving aside debris in the mess. Some chunks of the house were small enough for her to toss aside like baseballs while others required both hands and more 'oomph.' She was keen on moving the debris closest to the deceased shadow men and salvaging anything they had on them rather than finding Lottie. "You want to find her, right?" her way of telling Ozzy to quit standing around and help. Ozzy did just that.
Digging through the rubble is how they spent the next 15 minutes. During that time they managed to unearth two of the shadow men that had pursued them -or at least several parts of them in succession. Shauna was in the process of digging around the crushed torso of a third one when she found something useful. As she pulled it by the collar, which a crushed and half-torn away head hung above, she noticed the rectangular lump within one of his coat pockets.
"Aw, I was hoping for a wallet," she frowned at the phone before pocketing it, "Maybe I could wipe this and sell it for travel money. You find anything, Ozzy?"
Her boyfriend had been more concentrated on one area with his digging rather than trying his luck around the site. His silence let her know that his search for Lottie wasn't going anywhere fast. Ozzy heaved as he threw a slab of rubble aside -about ready to move on when the reddish leather of Lottie's coat that hit under the debris he just moved caught his eye.
"Lottie?" he said aloud, small waves of relief washed over him only to recede when he pulled the coat and the coat alone out from the ruins. Ozzy's face dropped as he held the dusty, burnt, and bloody American Girl coat in his hands. It looked worse than it felt, but still. Shauna put an arm around him, seeing his lowered face quiver in thought -something he did when wrestling with complex feelings of conflict. "What did we do, Shauna? Fuck, I still hear her screaming."
"What we had to, she knew that and she knows that now if she's still alive somewhere and I don't think it's here." She kicked over nearby debris as she glanced over their urban dig site. "C'mon, let's keep moving back to Chucky's." She took lead as Ozzy placed Lottie's coat in his makeshift sling.
If you're familiar with the events of the last chapter, and you should be (Seriously, I see chapter hoppers in my story traffic. Stop it, you're missing things. That's no way to read, not you current readers -you're great) then you'd know the next site of interest before Chucky's house is the little alley space where Glen had let them go. Ozzy and Shauna reached this location after recalling they had in fact run between fences like the way the alley ran when they were being chased by Glenda and Lottie before. There wasn't much to go on here, except for the blood on the pavement and some spatter against a dumpster.
"Shit went down here." Shauna glanced at the blood.
"It was just Glen and Glenda here when we left...you don't think that Glenda..." Ozzy said worryingly.
"Oh, she would absolutely but would've she left a body?"
Nothing to do but treat it like the sort of crime scene it was. Shauna knelt down beside a particularly large blood spot on the pavement and picked up something next to it. It looked like a handle for kitchenware. Ozzy examined the spattered dumpster. Nothing around or inside it, but he did find something underneath it -something that seemed to shimmer in the dim alley light.
"This is Glen's," Ozzy held up the tanto so Shauna could see it, "I've never seen him away from this thing."
"Damn...I liked Glen. He didn't deserve any of this. I really think he was a good kid."
"And you can't find sympathy or anything for Lottie? Even, Glenda?"
"No. Fuck 'em." Shauna rejected his challenge. Ozzy wasn't pushing it. He was grateful she was going along with this even if she were to complain the whole time. Ozzy didn't have the sheathe to the tanto, so he carried it out in the open. Not that was a bad thing, it did give him a sense of protection and it really did feel lighter than air. No wonder why Glen always felt so brave when he held it.
"Chucky's should be that way." It seemed like it was his turn to lead.
Chucky's place was already kind of a shit brick house, but that shadow man incursion even further gutted the place. Ozzy and Shauna could see the back door they fled out now hanging off its hinges. They had never thought of or seen them before, but there weren't a lot of windows either. And where there should be they were missing or broken. Ozzy froze before entering before Shauna gave him an encouraging push -and also reminded him that he held their one weapon. Chucky's home wasn't that big with the backdoor in the kitchen area and the front door in the larger living room just to left (that was the one with the mural). The small bedroom was to the right. Again, given the state of the house, it was hard to tell which was which. Ozzy and Shauna had crossed halfway into the kitchen when they heard it. Weeping and sobbing straight from the larger living room. The couple stopped, and Ozzy called out.
"Lottie?"
The weeping continued. Ozzy could feel Shauna let go of his hand as he slowly pressed forward. She pulled a pipe from beneath the rustic sink where the water had long been shut off -that never stopped them from freezing and growing brittle in the winter. There's really no need to build up the suspense here since all they literally have to do is turn a corner and they're in the room. This right here is why the best horror stories are set in bigger houses. Regardless, Ozzy held the tanto more like a knife than a sword while Shauna clutched the pipe.
Who else could've been there sobbing alone? It was Lottie, just as Ozzy had thought. The youngest Ray sat on her knees by the center of the room not too far from the front door. She was hunched over something and heaving with her scorched back turned toward Ozzy and Shauna. Ozzy thought her screams were hard to listen to -her crying was even worst. Her lack of doing anything else gave them the chance to look around the room that Burton had turned into an arena for Chucky and Tiffany. Not blood spatter, but puddles dotted up the floor and the wall was crushed with impact marks all around. The floor was also broken and cracked in some places too.
Then they saw one of Chucky's legs. It lay aside in a blood puddle of its own creation, it hadn't been moved since Burton ripped it from his body. This made Ozzy gasp and Shauna gulped because now they knew that the cult won. Wherever the Rays were, Burton had them now. Ozzy's heart sank into a pit and Shauna couldn't help but loosen her grip on the pipe as she stared at the floor in thought now that they would have to survive her way. Ozzy, however, had other plans.
"Lottie?" he called to her again, actually taking steps towards her.
"Ozzy..." Shauna hissed.
"She's alone, Shauna...Hey, Lottie?" he continued approaching the doll girl. She was still hunched over and sobbing. The position of her unseen hands in front of her suggested that she was holding something. Ozzy was a couple of feet behind her when he placed the tanto on the ground behind him, purposely dropping it to make a sound to let Lottie know since she wasn't looking.
"We're not here to fight, Lottie. We kind of need you...and the others actually." A couple of more steps and Ozzy was standing over her. He shuddered when he found out what it was that Lottie was holding so close to herself.
It was her dad's arm. She held it by the hand -her fingers curled around its cold dead one squeezing it in the vain hope that she would feel something back. Her other hand was clasped around it tightly as she shook. With how much she was crying, it didn't look like her eyes would heal back to their normal white anytime soon. As Ozzy listened closer to her sobbing it became apparent that she was muttering the names of her family -hearing her pitifully go "mommy" and "daddy" was just heartwrenching. Ozzy slowly knelt down beside her, saying her name once again.
"Lottie, it's going to be ok." He put a hand on her shoulder. The moment he did, Lottie stopped crying and went completely still. She even stopped squeezing her father's dismembered arm. Her hair in her eyes, she slowly turned to Ozzy but gave him no eye contact -at least she was acknowledging him now. But now she was acknowledging him a bit too much.
"YOU!" She cried, her face a wet mess of her blood and tears and lip still swollen where she was struck by Shauna before. Ozzy cried out himself too as Lottie lunged at him and was able to pin him to the floor by his chest. Ozzy fought back, but approached it more like a child than a niche doll slasher, trying to cease her wrists as she tried to choke him out.
"Lottie! Please! Just listen to me!" Chucky's youngest daughter through her head back since he couldn't do much with her seized wrists and screamed in his face. Ozzy couldn't help but notice that her back teeth were actually as sharp as her siblings. So, those things were hereditary. He could've kept this up until Lottie noticed Glen's tanto lying on the floor just behind him where he had set it. Ozzy did his best to make his next scream not seem helpless when Lottie was able to break free and start reaching for her brother's blade. She never got it though.
Shauna came in with that plumbing pipe and nailed Lottie right across the face like a baseball player. In fact, the impact made a similar sound to a bat hitting a ball. Lottie went flying off Ozzy and landed on her stomach. Shauna quickly kicked the tanto far out of reach before pulling Ozzy up, never taking her eyes off Lottie as she pushed herself up with one hand and held her face with the other.
"Jeez, not so hard. Don't-" Ozzy saw that look in her eyes as she just brushed past him towards Lottie. She had no intention of letting up. "Oh for the love of fuck, Shauna!"
Shauna didn't scream or yell when she smashed the broadside of the pipe down on Lottie's back to keep her down, she just did quick and steady breath like she was doing a rep at the field house. Lottie spat fresh blood over the already dried red floor she lay on. As quick as the first one and before she could react, Shauna slammed the pipe down on her again -then again, and again, and again, it was almost robotic. Ozzy was screaming at her and pulling on his dreads.
"SHAUNA! JESUS FUCK! STOP! YOU'RE GOING TO KILL HER!" He could hear Lottie hissing between blows which soon became whimpers. Shauna did stop, but not to humor him.
"Tell me she's just a kid! Go ahead, tell me! She was all over your neck the first chance she got!" She was using her rink voice with the same cadence of a WWE wrestler and a crack head robbing you outside your building. Her stare of ice wasn't helping Ozzy feel any less intimidated. Lottie made the worst counter argument for him by grabbing Shauna by the ankle and trying to slip her little jaws around it. Shauna wasn't having any of it and acquainted Lottie's face with the bottom of her other foot with a swift kick. Lottie flipped onto her back, her nose was bleeding and just a couple newtons shy of being broken. Shauna raised the pipe over head with both hands. Oh, the dreaded over head smash. But Ozzy made his stand here and grabbed the pipe with his one good hand.
"What the hell is the matter with you!?" He pulled and tried to shake the pipe free but Shauna had a grip like a Pitbull.
"Tried doing it your way, didn't work. You think her folks ever taught her about second chances?" She pulled back on it, but to her surprise, Ozzy resisted even with one arm available. The tension caused the couple to start struggling against each other -the weight shifting around above them as they had no choice but to stumble. Lottie was done fighting, she on the ground in the fetal position -probably protecting her head.
"We didn't even try!"
"Get the fuck off me, Ozzy!" Shauna twisted and pivoted around sporadically. This narrowly threw Ozzy off but he maintained his footing.
"Shauna, I'm not losing you, Lottie, or anyone else! Calm your tits!"
"I'm trying to help you! You can't lose me if you're dead!"
"Then, put the pipe down!"
"I will seriously fucking hurt you if you don't let go!" They continued to scuffle. What little restraint Shauna had keeping her from smacking the ever loving crap out of him wearing thin. Ozzy knew he was playing with fire here, so might as well wet his hand and try to close it around the flame and see what happens. He pulled back on the pipe and Shauna with all his weight, forcing himself down -harder than he would've liked honestly on his back. When Shauna confusingly stumbled and came falling on him, that knocked the wind out of him as her scapula crushed against his chest. He put an arm around Shauna and held her hand -it was not an aggressive gesture.
"I will never in a million years try to fight you because you'd make me have to piss into a bag for the rest of my life. Please, Shauna-"
"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" Shauna clenched her hands. She was going to start pummeling him, but doing that just made it easier for Ozzy to get to her knuckles on the hand he held and rub them. She had small, faded surgical scars on them from the time one of her roller derby opponents ran over her fingers and crushed three of them and severed her pinky. The medic threw up on site. Doctors were able to save the pinky, though -happy ending there. Ozzy always rubbed her knuckles which had pins in them for weeks as their couple comfort ritual. It's also kind of a symbolic memento of how Shauna has been through worse or her true strength is perseverance and restraint. Or it can be, reader's interpretation. Ozzy felt Shauna's breathing steady as he lowered his head in the crook of her neck. "You motherfucker..." she spoke with less venom but vain nonetheless.
"We're all we got. We need a little trust here as weird as that sounds." Ozzy held her as close as he could with one arm. Shauna took a moment to enjoy it, even resting her eyes. It felt good all the proceeding events considered. Before she allowed herself to doze off, she pulled herself and Ozzy up. She was also certain to grab the pipe she had dropped just to be sure, but in a show of good faith she kept it under her crossed arms as she stood to the side.
"You're going to learn tonight, Ozzy. You're going to learn to learn you're not going to be able to Teddy Bear your way out of everything. Some people are going to pull your head off." She glanced at Lottie who still lay where she was, her back turned to them once again.
"Yeah...probably," he admitted, "But it's not Lottie."
"Work your magic then," Shauna stood aside.
"Alright..." Ozzy didn't waste anytime with calling her name of slugging over to her. He was over to her and on his knees next to where she lay. The moment he put a hand on her, Lottie was up. Her face expressed her lack of fight so much more than her body did. No bared teeth, no berserker scream, and no visage of murder in her eyes. Ozzy was looking upon the face of a child fearing punishment. She got the first real taste of the lifestyle her dad had no choice but to set them on at their hands hours ago, her family was missing, and she was with people who were never her friends. Or so she was told.
"DON'T COME NEAR ME!" she cried. She acted as if a child would too, cowering and groveling back against the wall behind her.
"Lottie, it's going to be ok." Ozzy shuffled closer to her on his hand and his knees.
"DON'T YOU DARE! LEAVE ME ALONE!" Lottie pitifully swiped at him, open hands and all. Ozzy noticed her palms were burned from crawling inside the overheating vent.
"L-" He wasn't going to try to use words anymore. She heard her name and reassurance plenty of times before, she just needed to feel it. Ozzy moved a hand across his neck for what he believed what could be the last time, before wrapping his single working arm around Lottie. She didn't have time to react until her wet face met the dry fabric of Ozzy's button down. It had already started abording her tears and blood.
"LET ME GO! STOP!" she wasn't returning the hug of solidarity. She pounded and slapped at Ozzy's stomach as he held her. She screamed and sobbed loudly. It wasn't scary nor was it an attempt to be. It was a child having a nervous meltdown.
"We're going to find them, Lottie," Ozzy had his hand on her back, her burned plastic flesh felt like a crusty leathery mess. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."
"I'LL MAKE YOU LET ME GO!" her hits, if they can be called that, were getting weaker and they didn't hurt a whole lot to begin with. Her screaming grew softer as the whimpering and sobbing resumed, her facing going completely wet again. Finally, her hands fell to her side as she pressed her head into Ozzy's.
"Yeah, cry your little heart out. You're still a kid. It's ok. Let it out." His shirt soaked up the tears as he felt that spot quickly go damp. Lottie was an impressive crier, that wasn't a thin shirt. it's truly amazing what children hold in sometimes.
"Osboooooorne..." Lottie whimpered between sobs, her tone saying it all. I got out, I went back to the house to look for the others, they were gone, and I found some of my dad's body parts. Shadow men, it had to be.
"Here.." Ozzy reached into his sling and pulled out her coat. It wasn't in the best condition as you are aware, but it's better than Lottie walking around with her burns exposed. He clumsily unfolded it with one hand and slipped one of the sleeves around Lottie's arm. He had to ask her to raise her other arm to fully put it on before straightening the collar. "Better?"
Lottie nodded. She had sobbed so hard she was hiccupping. She wiped her face with his shirt. Ozzy didn't care how dirty with tears and blood it became. "I-I don't want you dead, Osborne...Shauna too. I don't think I ever wanted anyone dead...I just wanted to make my family happy. We don't smile a lot, but these last couple of days..." She broke down when it seemed like she was done crying, the thought of her family being the catalyst. "I'm alone now!"
"No. Not at all, Lottie. I told you I'm your friend. Friends ti-" Good save. That would've made her cry even harder. Still, all Lottie could think about was her dad most of all -having found his literal cold dead hand. "We'll get them back. You noticed how things instantly went to shit the moment you turned on us? We can make it through this, but we need all hands on deck." Lottie looked up at him.
"After everything we've done?"
"Remember when I pulled you out of that box you arrived at my place in, and what would've happened if you hadn't been there? Call it a kidnapping or whatever you want, you saved my life, and you've been doing it ever since. I think you and your family are capable of that so much more than you know...except your parents. Hey, really funny story, I actually thought that you were from Shauna -like a pregnancy reveal."
"You motherfucker," Shauna gagged from where she stood, "If you knocked me up, I'd beat the ever-loving shit out of you." Lottie laughed softly and a smile briefly flashed across her face as she looked at Shauna with the same gratitude she had for Ozzy. She had stopped sobbing by now and her face was finally dry, her eyes were still a little red puffy though.
"I like talking and listening to you. My dad said he transferred my soul into this body, but since then I never felt like I had one. Everything that made me a little girl felt like it was ripped from me. Damballa was supposed to give it all back, you two showed me I don't need to look the part. Even with this lifestyle my parents created, I feel like I still have a-" Lottie looked down when she saw Ozzy's eyes briefly glanced the same direction. The little heart in her doll body was illuminated again. The red glow waxed and waned almost in the same frequency as an actual heartbeat. At least that's what it looked like. "Yeah...this." Lottie didn't need to say anything else. The thing had never actually worked until she met them.
"You Carebear, you," Ozzy moved his hand across her head in a supportive rub and pulled himself onto one knee.
"You really mean that? About getting them all back? Even my mom and dad?"
"Even your mom and dad."
"Where would we start? They left without a trace. The shadow men we saw were probably right too, they may have the Heart and Soul amulets."
"Ok, so good news bad news time," Shauna came in with impeccable timing with her nose in the phone she scavenged off the dead shadow man's torso earlier. The phone had been added to a new group chat seemingly among fellow shadow men within the order. "The good news is I know where they're keeping Lottie's family. It looks like they're still in town." Ozzy got up.
"They won't be going anywhere else with me still here. What's the bad news?" Shauna handed him the phone. Ozzy's face dropped as he scrolled down. "Oh...fuck. Damn, that's no...Jesus, we have this thing called the Geneva Conventions -so many violations."
"What?" Lottie tried to back up her nervous tone with a stern look.
"We...we have an address. It's the old Play Pal Corporation Headquarters on the West Side. Guess Burton wanted to taunt your dad. C'mon let's go get them! Car's still out front right?" Ozzy tried to hurry them along.
"What are you not showing me? Give me the phone, now." Her stance in front of him turned rightfully defiant.
"Lottie, I'd really rather not." Ozzy clutched the phone.
"I swore off killing you, but I didn't say anything about a kick in the shin."
"Lottie-"
"Friends don't keep things from each other." She tried the diplomatic route and worked to the most of Ozzy's chagrin. He looked hurt handing her the phone as he stared at the ground as it left his hand. Shauna crossed her arms and did the same.
"What...what the fuck?" Lottie tensed up in nearly every part of her body. The new group chat was called 'We Dem Toys.' The first message went 'Our lord and master requests our presence! The Pay Pal Corporation on 574 Ashland. We're all ascending from our bodies and flesh and bone with him this day! We will be invincible!' A couple more messages proceeded that clarifying the address and location before picture files were sent with only the succeeding message of 'we got him!'
There were four pictures. The first one was of a gloved hand pulling the stitches from Chucky's face as he screamed. Some of them one the other side of his face were compromised or gone altogether. You're more than familiar with how Chucky sounds when he screams, you can imagine the sound that picture would make if it was a video.
The second was Tiffany getting it much worse than her husband you can argue. The shadow men had found a hot plate from one of the plastic labs and had it pressed down on her back like an iron. Her eyes her covered by her hair, but her mouth could be seen open in a scream of her own. Spittle could also be seen flying from her lips.
Glen's appearance in the third picture saw him getting his broken hand further battered as the shadow man near effortlessly broke his two good fingers that he at least was able to move. Glen did not fucking deserve that. At least he had a habit of passing out and not being conscious for torture. He can thank Psyches for that.
The fourth and final picture feature Glenda. Her pupils were so tiny that they could be barely be described to exist at all as the shadow man was in the process of pulling one of her teeth out with a wire cutter from the maintenance department. Glenda couldn't be described as screaming in that picture, she was more so roaring. She would've fully looked like an animal, had it not been for the tears rolling down her cheeks as the gloved hand pulled.
Below the pictures were several just foul and awful messages from other shadow men making their way to the factory. 'Save some for us,' 'I want to split that one open like a fetal pig,' 'That's the one that killed my brother, I'm going to eat its balls!' and 'Can you fuck them?' Not one person in that group is a well-adjusted human. Horrible, just horrible -dredges of society. Oh wait, that's why Chucky was recruited...sorry.
Lottie was clutching the phone so hard that her doll fingers made a rubbery crack. New tears were welling up as she found herself unable to look away from the images. This was the exact thing Ozzy wanted to avoid, but he wasn't going to keep stuff from Lottie if they needed trust more than ever. "Lottie...we're going to save them. We know where to go now."
Lottie only answered back in pained exhales, but they grew more steady as she steadied herself and found her center, just as her brother had taught her. The only sound beyond her breath she made was a muffled sob as she handed Ozzy back the phone. New found determination and vengeance met concern and support when she looked up at him.
"So this is what it feels like to really, really want people dead. Let's it explore it..."