Chapter 2
Chucky leaned back in his chair, smiling shrewdly down at his phone. The light danced over his peachy face, and reflected in cold blue eyes. He'd been fascinated for the last half hour, reading about himself. This writer was really into him, and not in a healthy way, but damn, could she keep a guy's attention.
"This bitch," he threw his head back and laughed "I gotta know if this is real or not." He gestured a new tab open and searched 'Chatty Cat Diner,' one of the settings mentioned in the story. Sure enough, a local photo came up as the first result. Black and white tiles accenting the deep red vintage puff stools. An idea was starting to rouse in him. "This might just be too easy. She's practically asking for it."
Marceline was scooting under the luxurious blankets on her bed. It wasn't cold, but she liked to stay covered for this sort of thing. As she got situated and brought her phone closer to her face, she noticed a new message in her forum inbox. That didn't happen very often, but once in a while somebody would give her a review or tell her how much of a sick fuck she was for writing these obscene stories. She didn't care. The message flicked open and she saw a fellow Chucky fan she hadn't heard from before - Charlestrangler. They told her she 'wasn't half bad but also shouldn't quit her day job. Did she want to role play tonight?' She wasn't really in the mood for that. She wanted to get this feeling out of her system so she could finally relax. Texting back and forth required far too much energy than she could muster right now.
"What a cunt." Chucky closed his message without sending. "She left me on read." He deftly navigated through her pages, checking out other stories and scanning for information. In a title called 'Home Invasion', she mentioned a street he recognized. There's no way she's that dumb. "If this checks out, hell, she deserves to die... and I'm gonna do it nice and slow." He already had an erection from the amount of bloody sex and massacre stories he'd been reading of hers. He definitely wanted to kill her, but he was also intrigued. He might even get some play time out of this.
Marcy was frustrated. She'd been pleasuring herself for a while, but nothing seemed to be working. Her cat pushed the door open and her heart skipped a beat. She couldn't come tonight. It happened, sometimes. She wasn't in the right head space. Still anxious, kind of discouraged, and very, very hot, she threw off the duvet and sat up. The sound of distant thunder rumbled softly. She stared blankly out the window and thought about how she could reset and rid herself of these jitters. Lightning flashed. She counted. 5 miles away.