Hey Friends! Some trigger warnings:
Profanity, sexuality, gore, violence
This is a slow burn, I promise the end is worth it!
Chucky was bored. His current living set up gave him access to anything he wanted, wifi, money, plenty of trash around that nobody would go looking for if they suddenly stopped showing up... but something else was missing. He just didn't get as many kicks out of this place as he used to. He opened a browser and typed 'Chucky' into the search bar.
"What the hell, see what the internet says about me today." Scrolling, unimpressed, passed wiki articles and vacuous social media reels, he only once or twice even raised his eyebrows. "Shit. Even the world wide fuckin' web is dull today." His thumb paused over an odd title: Fan fiction Child's Play. Out of morbid curiosity, he clicked.
Marceline jostled the heavy plate glass double doors of the Chatty Cat Diner shut. She was off with a well deserved weekend ahead. Her boss had been shitty to her, asking her to work an extra shift today. Now that she was finally free, she didn't even feel all that mad about it. It was much needed money in her pocket, and it was pretty mindless work anyway. After twisting the lock into place, she skipped down a step and headed for her car at a giddy pace. She was eager to get some self care in after the long week. The drive home felt almost meditative. She turned the radio down and watched the sky darkening as she approached her new home. New to her, but a very old house. This was Marcy's first time living on her own.
"Hi Chuckles." She cooed to the orange tabby resting on her porch. "You hungry baby boy?" He brushed up against her legs, wrapping his tail around as he paced inside the house with her. He meowed, hoarse with hunger. "Alright, already, calm down. I'm getting it." She sprinkled some kitten kibble into his bowl and watched contently as he mangled and crunched with an adorably ferocious appetite. "My little murder man." She kissed him on his stupid little face and moved down the hall, dropping her things over the counter top and table as she made her way to the bedroom.
This place was her sanctuary, and she set it up just how she'd always wanted. Dark purple wallpaper, a soft pink neon light, her record player on the nightstand. Kicking off her shoes and flopping onto the bed, she grabbed her phone and flipped onto her back, letting her hair drape down the edge of the bed as she scrolled. She bit her lip, feeling a little edgy and anxious. Weekends always started the same way, reading, or posting, a story... but always obsessing over Chucky in some way. She'd been hooked since the first season, the gore and hilarity kept her searching for more. She wasn't an 80s horror fan, but she devoured every bit of content she could find. It was the sound of his voice that made her feel some type of way. He had that bad guy rasp and she was fixated. She kept this all to herself, she was a very private person, but she wrote about it all the time, finding community online. Everybody had an obsession shared behind the safety of anonymity. Marcy's world wasn't all that imaginative, though, and she frequently used places from her hometown to give it some realism. Tonight, she read one of her own stories. Re-reading somehow gave her the same penetrative feeling as when she first created it.
She wriggled on her bed, caught up in the hot flush of her face. That restlessness came over her again. Time to do something about it.