Chapter 1

The birds sang in unison as the morning sun belted out across the forest. A young deer gently galloped by the river cutting through the luscious green paradise, occasionally stopping to take a sip of the fresh clear water, startled only by the snapping of twigs in the distance. A fox, no doubt returning home. Sanctuary after a hard night hunting. The shadows of the forest blazed across the grass, reaching out, over the wire mesh fencing and up the side of the dull, dreary grey cement walls of Green Acre Mental Facility. The window strewn first floor walkway had been basking in the glowing sun since early morning and temperatures had begun to get a little uncomfortable. Footsteps approached the walkway at a steady pace. Hurried and with an air of anxiety, Dr Roland Abner bore all the hallmarks of a man who needed to be somewhere, and fast. Crossing the walkway and letting the heat envelope him as he passed through the long glass oven, he raised an arm of his freshly ironed suit jacket and ran his handkerchief across his forehead. Beads of sweat had gathered long before entering the furnace-like atmosphere of 'D Wing', but this wasn't helping. Standing at 6' 1" tall and thin as a rake, he was quite the imposing sight to a lot of his patients, and he was glad of it. But not today, today he felt no more than four feet tall. His face carrying the look of a rabbit caught dead centre in the headlights of an oncoming car. In his forty five years in the profession he thought he'd seen it all. But that wasn't the case unfortunately. Now something new had reared its ugly head and he felt powerless. All night his wife had been reassuring him, but he still felt uneasy. This wasn't just any other day. This was judgment day as far as he was concerned.

"Honey relax," His wife had softly said the night before, as she placed a single malt whiskey by his side of the bed. He snapped his folder shut, the notes inside giving him even more to worry about, and nodded. "I think this is all just some storm in a tea cup." She tried again.

"I wish." He replied. "But this isn't a coincidence. No, there are far too many reports in here to make me think this is just a couple of patients kicking up a fuss!"

"Really? How so?" His wife had asked.

"Well for a start it's not the patients. It's the relatives that are making these accusations." He ran his hand across his chin, the stubble scratching slightly. Removing the thin, oval glasses from the bridge of his nose he placed the file on his bedside table, picking up his whiskey in the same manoeuvre. "Completely unfounded. But you know the saying, there's no smoke without fire."

"But really, why would they make accusations like that?" His wife joined him in bed, pulling the covers over her as she opened her book, lifting the bookmark free and placing it by her side on the bed.

"I don't know Mary." He took a sip. "We've never had anything like this before. I mean sure, a lot of them need a bit of help. A little bit of a help to the bathroom, help getting out of bed, whatever. But never have I seen so many reports of assault. I just refuse to believe it!"

"And what if tomorrow doesn't go as planned?" She enquired. "What if they do believe it?"

"Well, i guess we'll have to cross that bridge when we get to it. But I'll tell you something, I'm having that Eric Grant in my office! As soon as they're gone, I'm pulling him in. I don't care if he's in bed or down at some seedy little strip club, it'll not do him any harm." He paused, his mind racing. "Damned night shift. I should've just gotten rid of him when I had the chance!"

"Grant?" Mary looked surprised. "What's he got to do with this?"

"Well," Another sip before laying his glass back on the bedside table. "These events seem to occur during his shift. Day staff noticing a bruise here, maybe a little cut there. All natural when you know the way some of them act. I mean, we had one girl try ripping a leg off her bed. She tried everything, pulling, punching, kicking. Jesus she made a mess of herself. So like I say, a lot of things don't surprise me. But now this... The board of governors getting involved. It wouldn't be so bad, but they don't see the things we do every day."

He turned to Mary, his wife of thirty seven years, and found solace in her smile. No matter what, she had a smile that could illuminate a room, even after all these years...

Suddenly he glanced up, lost in his own thoughts, forgetting himself as he marched down yet another dull, lifeless corridor. He was letting this get to him and would just be glad when the whole ordeal was over.

"Let's see..." He turned, examining the doors. He was scheduled to meet the representative of the Board of Governors in Dr Weston's office and he was in danger of running late. Not just for this, but he had surgery to attend to, appointments, assessments. It didn't help that he hadn't been down here since the refurbishment either. He was still getting his bearings as he noticed Dr Weston's office door. "There you are!" He breathed a sigh of relief and approached the door, 'Dr. Abigail Weston – M.D, PhD'. Pausing to compose himself and taking a deep breath he reached out with one long shaking arm, grasped the door handle and ventured inside. Pleasantly surprised to find a familiar face waiting for him.

"Gerald, it's been a long time..." Dr Abner relaxed a little. "Welcome to Green Acre..."

And so it began.

Walking through the facility wasn't too bad, thankfully one of the janitors had been on the ball and opened some windows to let a little air in. The sun cut through the windows and lent the corridors a bright, friendly feeling as they took in their tour, stopping occasionally to meet some of the nurses, one or two of the ward doctors, even a few of the patients. Naturally the trouble causers had been confined to their rooms. It was very much a case of 'out of sight, out of mind' in that respect. So far Gerald seemed pleased. He'd been asking various questions, mainly about the handling of patients, what happened if some proved to be a little difficult, but everybody had been diligent and professional in their response. They were just leaving the common room, Dr Abner finding his spirits remarkably high as the tour came to its conclusion. He turned as he addressed his visitor, his huge hands held out in front of him as he spoke, comb over held impeccably in place throughout the inspection.

"As you can see, not a lot happens in here. This is more the relaxing part of the wing, where a patient may want to come for a bit of social bonding, either with another patient, maybe even one of our dedicated nursing team. There's obviously the TV, some reading material, we even have some board games for them to interact with each other."

Gerald glanced around as he followed his old friend Roland Abner through the common room, notepad gripped in his hand, pen frantically scribbling, ticking and crossing. Small and chunky, with a streak of his French heritage running through his accent, he and Roland had met years ago at a psychology conference in upstate New York. Since then they'd taken the time to catch up at various seminars, university lectures, even exchanging the odd email. The board of governors didn't know this, otherwise they'd never have sent him. But he knew that it would probably be a relief for Roland to have a familiar face conducting this review. Accusations of violence were never pleasant, no matter how quickly they could be quashed, or otherwise.

"This final patient we're about to meet is a truly unique case." Dr Abner continued. "A victim of a mental breakdown, she's been in our care for the last six months now. Her progress truly is staggering though."

"What makes her so unique?" Gerald asked.

"Well this patient was the recipient of a psychiatric evaluation... A court ordered one at that." Abner walked, turning his head to engage his friend. "The police found her at home, her family brutally slain, except one, her young niece. Anyhow the case came to court, the judge viewed the notes and was astounded. You see, all evidence pointed towards our girl. Finger prints, no visible entry or exit from the property by a third party. They established a motive for her too. But she seemed to be under the delusion that the murders were committed by a doll of all things. Apparently she claimed the doll, a Good Guy... You remember those?" Gerald nodded. "Well she claimed this doll, possessed by the spirit of serial killer Charles Lee Ray no less, had arrived anonymously through the mail. That same night she woke up and found her mother dead. Suicide was the coroners verdict at first. But according to our girl it was the doll. Revenge apparently for some rejection of love decades earlier. She even claimed it confessed to her later on." Dr Abner gave a little laugh and a shrug as he finished.

"And did she claim the doll killed everybody?" Gerald enquired, amazed.

"Originally yes." Dr Abner replied. "Her sister, brother in law, the nanny. Hell, even the local priest. Like I said, the only survivor was the patient's niece, They found her locked in a closet upstairs."

"So what does she believe now?" Gerald asked.

"Well she claims to have no memory of the actual events. Claims that she literally blacked out, then came to and had this 'killer doll' story in her head." Dr Abner came to a halt outside one of the generic doors that littered one of D Wings many corridors. "The one thing that she does acknowledge now though is how absurd her story actually was. She's actually shown a fantastic improvement, so much in fact that I've recently had her moved from the maximum security ward and found her to be quite the model patient down here."

Dr Abner turned and knocked on the door softly, his other hand levering the door open as he entered. Gerald followed on behind and lowered his notepad. To his surprise, there sat a young woman, mid-twenties, long brunette hair, fascinating curls hanging down her back. It took a few seconds before the fact she was in a wheelchair even registered. The girl turned away from her desk and greeted the both of them with the most beautiful smile. A slight scar visible running from her forehead, down the side of her perfect nose.

"Nica, this is a colleague of mine, Dr Gerald LeStance." Dr Abner quietly said. Gerald gave Nica a smile and a wave as he gave her a quick once over. Unable to fathom that this gentle looking paraplegic could be capable of killing a house fly, let alone an entire family.

"Dr Abner, hi." Nica beamed, she leaned to one side and gave a little wave to the stranger in the background.

"I've just been telling Gerald about how much progress you've made in the time you've been with us Nica. You've come on leaps and bounds." He threw a playful punch as the words left his mouth, a jolly tone ringing through Nica's room. "Tell us, how are you today?"

"I'm fine..." She seemed pleasantly surprised to be asked. "I'm just doing some writing."

"Oh really?" He asked. "What are you writing? I didn't know you were in contact with anybody."

"Oh no..." She paused. "Just, short stories, you know? Help to pass the time." Nica gave a little laugh.

"Well yes." Dr Abner laughed, Gerald too. "If there's one thing that's good for killing time it's writing."

"Yeah, and if there's one thing I've got to kill it's time!" Nica joked.

Dr Abner sensed a slight hint of sarcasm in Nica's tone and decided to quit while he was ahead.

"Well listen, Nica, it's been good to see you. We just thought we'd pop our heads round the door, after all, you're one of our brightest examples here. Just keep up with the writing, I'd be really interested in giving them a read if that's okay?" He offered.

"Well... They're just stories really. Nothing too serious." She replied.

"Well, if you ever change your mind, you let me know." Dr Abner turned to his old friend and gestured towards the door. Gerald turned to leave, smiling and giving Nica a wave goodbye as he left. "Oh and don't forget, we've your monthly assessment just before lunch. But don't worry, purely routine. Okay Nica?"

"Yeah, I know. I'll see you then Dr Abner. Thanks for stopping by." She smiled.

After he'd left Nica's smile faded. Slowly, a determined look materialised on her face and she went back to her writing.

Out in the corridor Dr Abner escorted his guest back to the security of Dr Weston's office where he'd arranged for some refreshments. On the way back they talked. The building, the staff, the patients, but the main topic was Nica Pirce.

"You see, at first she was nothing like that." He bragged. "There were times she would assault members of staff, including doctors. Her hygiene was less than desirable, she refused to shower, brush her teeth, comb her hair. She was literally falling to pieces. But as you can see, after some time under our supervision, a careful routine of meds and constant reviews, she's come round. She's now the model patient here at the facility. In fact, as stupid as it seems, I wish i had a thousand more just like her!"

"And her writing." Gerald asked, seriously. "You're aware she has pens, pencils, sharp instruments?"

"Well..." Dr Abner replied, stammering at this innocent enquiry. "She's proven herself immensely over this last few months Gerald. Seriously I have no worries regarding Nica Pirce, let me assure you of that."

"Wouldn't be the first time though Roland. Someone goes in, girls having a hard time, next thing you know some poor orderly's bleeding to death with a biro in their neck."

"Trust me Gerald, if I had an ounce of doubt..."

As they walked his mind started to race yet again. He was happier now despite that last question. It had been easier than he thought, but this should never have happened. Eric Grant had a lot of explaining to do.

11am.

No doubt one of the Dr Weston's minions would come hurtling through the door offering to 'help' her down the corridor. By help they meant they'd forgotten about her assessment and it was in their best interest to get her down there as quickly as possible. Before Dr Abner gave them a grilling over how to do their jobs properly. Nica was still sat in the same spot when Warren poked his head round her door and gave a little tap on the door frame.

"Hello Nica." He said.

Nica gave a sigh and turned to face Warren. His little, plump, Hawaiian face that was at first so friendly, his heart so full of enthusiasm. But ever since 'that' incident he'd had no time for Nica. She wasn't bothered, but she did feel a little sorry that Warren had been there when she finally snapped in front of Dr Weston. Ramming a hypodermic syringe straight through her hand as she tried to comfort Nica. So far through her hand, in fact, that the needle went clean through her hand and into Nica's leg. Her attitude at the time though was simply 'fuck it'. She knew she was destined for this place. Nobody believed her and in the end she'd started to doubt herself. Finally reaching the decision that she'd be safer in Green Acre than out there in the real world she'd accepted her fate and embraced the fact that she was to spend a very long time here.

"Hello Warren. How are you?" She asked, spinning on the spot, a smile on her face. The wheels of her chair made a creaking noise as she came to a rest.

"I'm pretty good. How are you?" He responded.

"I'm good. In fact if I were any better I think I could go insane. Know what I mean?" She laughed.

Warren looked at her blankly, no smile, no expression.

"Are you ready for your assessment? Dr Abner and Dr Weston are waiting for you." His words monotonous as they travelled through the dry, humid air.

"Jesus Warren, I'm just trying to lighten the mood! Yes I'm ready." She gave up. There was no point trying. The damage was done. Warren took a step into the room and held out his hand.

"Do you want..." That was as far as he got before Nica casually shrugged him off.

"Hell no, I've been doing this all my life. Not gonna start taking it easy now. Besides, I don't use my legs as it is. You want me to stop using my arms too? Fuck Warren, I'll waste away if I do that!" She wheeled past him and out into the corridor, the light seemed brighter out here.

As she gently rolled along the corridor she had a look around. There was a guy fixing the vending machine, she'd not seen him before. The usual staff were manning their positions whether answering phones or escorting another patient back to their rooms. As she passed the common room she saw one of Green Acres oldest residents sat in her usual chair. Dressing gown open and cuddling a pillow. Mavis was harmless enough but had a tendency to approach people cuddling her pillow and ranting about her son, who'd died in a motorcycle accident back in the seventies, before releasing her bowels. Luckily Nica had gotten the warning signs down to a tee this last couple of weeks and knew when to get out of there.

"Hey Mavis!" She shouted as she passed the door.

Mavis didn't even acknowledge her. Just lifted her hand in a half assed attempt and muttered some inaudible words under her breath. Her thinning grey hair a mess, her toothless grin reminding Nica of a witch from a horror movie.

"You shouldn't do that you know." Warren commented from behind. "She needs rest."

"Oh come on." Nica pushed herself along, tiring of Warren's attitude. "What's the worst that can happen?"

Just as she finished her sentence Nica turned her head, examining the nurse's station half way along the ward. Behind a tower of paperwork and files sat David, not a nurse, but one of the odd job men dotted around Green Acre. He was sat cradling a phone to his ear as he tried, at the same time, to open a packet of chips. Noticing Nica he threw the bag of chips to one side and lifted the phone from his shoulder. Muttering his goodbyes to whoever was on the other end, he stood and replaced the handset. His well toned body hidden underneath the navy blue 'maintenance' overalls, his ruffled black hair and squared jaw, Nica had to admit he was an attractive guy.

"Hey, how's my favourite girl today?" David asked as he stepped out from behind the desk and approached Nica and Warren. Nica stopped dead in her tracks, her face lighting up as she gave him a smile.

"I hope you're talking about me." She joked.

"Of course, of course." He gave her a smile back as he held his hands out, palms forward in a mock show of surrender.

"I'm doing okay. How are you?" She asked.

"Yeah I'm good, I'm good." David turned his attention to Warren. "Hi Warren."

"David..." Warren sighed, not seemingly interested in the prospect of conversation. David turned back to Nica.

"So when you gonna let me take you out of here for some wild night?" He laughed.

"Hey, I'm easy, I'll go whenever. Could always sneak me out with the mail huh?" Nica hadn't been in such a good mood this morning, but whenever she spoke with David she felt herself actually begin to relax.

"Funny you should mention that." David's eyes lit up, an idea falling upon him. "I was just about to do the rounds with the mail. If you want, I guess you could tag along, give me hand. Just don't go racing off in that thing." He motioned to Nica's wheelchair.

"Ha ha, chance would be a fine thing. I'd love to help though." She turned to Warren. "Would that be okay?"

Warren's expression didn't alter as he looked into Nica's eyes. Not that he took pleasure in denying her things, but he liked to pride himself on carrying out his duties with a professional attitude.

"No, you've got your assessment. Besides which, you're not in here on holiday Nica." He spoke with no emotion, unnerving Nica.

Just then the phone on the nursing station rang. David moved to answer before Warren cut in front of him and placed his hand on the receiver.

"Better let me take this." He glared at David. "I am the nurse after all!"

David, a little surprised at this simply held his hands up and retreated, back to Nica. Whoever was on the phone seemed to have rattled Warren. He always stuttered whenever he was under stress, and that's what he was doing now. David thought no more about it and returned his attention to Nica.

"Listen," He whispered as he leaned in to her, close enough for her to smell his deodorant. She took a deep breath and stared into his eyes, listening intently. "I make another mail round, about half five tonight. Depending on who's working, if you're waiting over by the elevators you can come make that round with me."

"Yeah?" Nica nodded, "I'd love that. Will they let me though?" She questioned the idea.

"Well I know one thing, these assholes finish at about two, then it's Grace's shift. So long as you've never fallen out of line with her she should be cool. We go way back." He assured Nica. "Just be waiting and you can come give me a hand."

Nica was excited, it'd been a while since somebody trusted her, never mind showed any interest in her as a person instead of a patient. She was about to let her happiness brim over when she noticed Warren out of the corner of her eye. He replaced the receiver and quickly marched back over. Grabbing the back of Nica's wheelchair.

"That was Dr Weston. We're late!" He seemed to be panicking.

"Ah well," David stood upright and stepped aside, waving the pair of them through. "I'll let you guys get to your business. If they give you any trouble, just blame me!"

"Don't worry, I will." Warren gave David a sly look as he started to push Nica on.

Nica smiled as David gave her a little wink before returning to his duties. They carried on for a couple of minutes until they reach the consultation room, the door held open, some masochistic attempt to entice Nica in. She had just reached the door when Dr Weston appeared, her petite frame, blonde hair and smart suit instantly reconisable.

"Dr Weston." Nica gave her a smile. "How are you?"

Dr Abigail Weston was a kind woman, but the ordeal she'd gone through at the hands of Nica Pirce just six months earlier was not something she was going to forget in a hurry. She supposed the feeling was mutual though. It was in fact her notes that had landed Nica in the position she was in now, remanded indefinitely to Green Acre.

"I'm fine Nica." Her voice was stern, "Won't you come in?"

Nica guided herself through the narrow door and up to the round consultation table. As usual there was a Dictaphone in the middle, along with the camera behind the glass screen on the far wall. Everything was recorded, both audio and visually just for the records. But Nica was determined to behave. No repeat performances, that wouldn't help anybody and it would only do damage. Especially after she'd been so well behaved to get moved down here in the first place. Wasn't easy, but eventually they succumbed to Nica's charm and here she was. Dr Weston had been on the review panel and voiced her concerns over Nica being allowed such a free role, so quickly too, and especially with her record of violence and outbursts towards others. Dr Abner on the other hand had been more than supportive in Nica's attempts. He produced notes, statistics, charts, everything he could to show his colleagues on the panel just how far Nica had come in such a short space of time. As she approached the table and came to a halt the door slammed shut behind her, Dr Weston striding past and to her chair around the other side of the huge table.

'Feel a little safer over there huh?' Nica thought.

Suddenly a knock at the door caused them both to turn and look as Dr Abner entered, apologising for his tardiness as he closed the door softly behind him.

"Ladies, I do apologise. Nature calls though. You know how it is." He joked.

Nica gave a little laugh, feeling nervous suddenly. Dr Weston leaned forward and pressed the 'Record' button on the Dictaphone, the assessment had officially begun.

"This is Dr Abigail Weston, case assessment, patient number 248697NP, Miss Nica Pirce. Also present is Dr Roland Abner, date is May 27th 2014."

"Do we have to do this every time?" Nica asked, puzzled. "It's just so official. You know?"

"Afraid so Nica," Dr Abner answered apologetically. "Just helps us keep track of everything, dates, events, what not."

"So Nica." Dr Weston piped up. "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm fine." Nica nodded. "Sleeping a lot better, my appetite's been back for a while now and I'm feeling a lot more secure now."

"Define secure for us." Dr Weston immediately bounced back.

"Well, just confident I guess. Happy with life, nothing to fear, I'm doing well and I feel all the better for it. I'm doing some creative writing, trying to engage myself more with people every day." A smile started to emerge on Nica's face.

"And the nightmares?" Dr Abner jumped in. "It's understandable if you still have the odd one here and there. It was a pretty traumatic event you went through. I've been in the profession for a long time and no matter how 'out there' people's take on events are, they're still jarring."

"No I'm getting some good sleep. No nightmares, nothing." She answered.

"What about Chucky?" Dr Weston, machine gunning the questions now. "Do you still think of him?"

"No!" Nica spat back, appalled at the very mention of the name.

"You seem angry about that question Nica. Is there any reason why?" Dr Abner softly asked.

"Let's just say I want to forget about that whole thing. Especially that doll." Nica looked down, her gaze directed at the floor.

"There's no reason to feel any shame Nica." Dr Abner continued. "It felt real. To you it WAS real. We all have our own little ways of coping with things and there's nothing we can do about it. This, doll thing, this was just your brains way of telling you things had become too much. The stress, the pressure, everything."

Nica lifted her eyes and gave Dr Abner a long silent stare.

"You say you're eating a lot more than you were?" Dr Weston not letting the assessment become derailed. "Has your appetite improved significantly or do you find you're having to make yourself eat?"

"No not at all, I'm just eating as normal. Healthy appetite, finally came back I guess."

"Any idea why you started it? Your little hunger strike I mean." Dr Abner getting another question in.

"Well, like you say, it was a huge event. I didn't know what was what. The last thing on my mind was eating, showering and making an effort with you all. I'm sorry about that I genuinely am." She turned to look at Dr Weston, her apology hidden between the sentences.

"What about now Nica?" Dr Weston continued firing the questions. "How do you feel to everybody now?"

"Great. I mean, you're the ones that got me settled, made me come around. If it weren't for you I don't know what would've happened to me."

"And what do you believe now?" Weston again. "That night I mean. What do you believe happened?"

"To be honest it's all just a blur. I don't have any memory of anything." Nica looked at the table, as though trying to search through her memory banks for some shred of information that could shed light on the events. "Last thing I remember we were all watching a home movie. Next thing after that was Officer Stanton bursting in and finding me in the elevator."

"But what do you believe now Nica?" Dr Abner rejoined the conversation. "Do you realise why you're here? Why nobody believed your story?"

"Yes," Nica nodded vigorously, "Absolutely. It was just the way things were in my mind. To be honest I don't know why it all panned out like that. Looking back, I wouldn't believe me either."

"What about Charles Lee Ray?" Dr Weston scrawled in her notepad as she asked the question. "What do you believe about Charles Lee Ray?"

"Charles Lee Ray is dead!" She stayed calm. She could feel it though, the rage building up inside her at the very mention of his name.

"Are you sure?" Dr Abner chipped in. "No doubts whatsoever?"

"No." Nica remained calm. Leaning back and taking a deep breath. If it was to be like this for the next half hour then she'd better make herself extremely comfortable.

The rest of the assessment went pretty much as expected. Questions rallied between Nica and the two doctors, but all harmless and innocent. Her aspirations were a big one. What did she think she could achieve, what were her goals, did she feel she'd be able to adapt to the outside world 'if' the time came? She'd answered carefully, knowing that one show of aggression, one wrong answer could set her back a good month, maybe even longer. But she felt happy with how it had gone. Her assessments had even been changed to bi-monthly now which was pretty bitter sweet. They didn't think she needed as much supervision and care as before, but at the same time she was now only going to get half the chances to show them how well she was doing. When all was done, she thanked Dr Weston and Dr Abner for their time and made her way back to her room. Taking a moment to have a good look around, noting anything strange, anything out of place, anybody unusual. But found nothing. She eventually reached her room and closed the door behind her, carefully making sure nobody was watching. As she rolled herself forward she lifted herself out of her wheelchair and onto her bed, taking her time before turning her now empty wheelchair till it faced her. Then, grabbing her ankles she lifted them one at a time until she could drop them into the barren seat in front of her, before lifting herself up and pushing forward so her bum now hung precariously over the empty space between her chair and her bed. Taking one last look to make sure nobody was watching through the window of her door, she started lowering her body towards the floor, as far as it would go, before lifting again. She repeated this over and over, breaking into a sweat after only five minutes. She needed to keep herself in shape, and this was the only way she could think of until she got access to the gymnasium.

Because when the time came she'd need to be alert, bright and strong.

Because the time would come.

And so would Chucky.

And she'd be ready for him...