Chucky and Tiff

Chapter Thirteen: The Final Chapter

Note: To those of you who have seen Curse of Chucky, I started this fanfic long before that movie and I had the end of this fic in mind before I even saw the movie. I did not change my originally planned ending to match the canon of the movie. I chose to keep the ending I had planned and I hope you like it.

Tiffany drove down the familiar suburban street, a quick search of the phonebook told her that her father still lived in the home they had shared with her mother and sister. It seemed so long ago that she was pretty much a wolf in sheep's clothing. And she had met Chucky. Her love, now deceased because of the bastard, she blamed Eddie too.

He was supposed to be waiting for him. He was supposed to make sure Chucky was safe. She would find Eddie and make him pay. But, for now she would make her bastard father pay. It was dark, all the lights were out in the house and, the car was not in the driveway. She knew he would be back though. She walked up the paved driveway as old memories flooded her mind.

She shook her head, clearing the thoughts and thinking only of Chucky and getting revenge for him. The spare key was in its usual hiding spot under a flower pot. Her mother's flower pot. She unlocked the door and stepped in, cautiously. Her black stiletto's clacked on the hardwood floor of the foyer. Flipping the light switch, Tiffany was momentarily taken aback.

The white carpeting that her mother had loved so much was gone, well her mother's bleeding corpse had laid upstairs on the carpet so, she knew her father would have replaced it. The new carpet was beige, in fact the whole place looked like it had been redone. In beige. Many different shades of beige. It made her sick.

She turned and on one of the walls of the living room were new photos. Apparently her father had had no problem forgetting about her and his first family. And then he had to go and get Chucky killed. And now he was going to die. The photos resembled the ones her and her mother had forced Tiffany and Jessica into taking every once in a while.

The woman in the picture looked a lot younger than he was. He looked older, and greyer. His new wife looked like she belonged in Playboy, not as a suburban housewife. The two brats were boys, they looked about six and seven. And too much like her father. Tiffany suppressed a gag. Her father really made her sick. She sat on the beige leather couch and crossed her legs, resting her feet on the expensive looking coffee table.

She sharpened her black painted nails using the hunting knife she had gotten from packing up Chucky's and her apartment. Soon, the sounds of a car pulling up in the driveway alerted her to the presence of her father and possibly his new family.

A few moments later, the door opened and in ran the two brats. They went straight upstairs and never even noticed her. A second later, her father's wife stepped in, and right behind her..Bradley. Tiffany's father.

The blonde noticed her first, she gave Tiffany an annoyed look before speaking. "Who the fuck are you? And what the fuck are you doing in my house?" she said, snobbishly.

Bradley looked at her and blinked several times, looking as if he couldn't believe his eyes. "Tiffany?" he said, in shock. She almost wanted to hug him. Almost. Her rage at him for getting Chucky killed and then replacing her family with a new one stopped that feeling before it had a chance to fully manifest itself in her desires.

"Bradley, who is that?" his wife asked, looking at Tiffany like she was dirt.

"Blythe, this is Tiffany. My first born. Oh God, Tiffany...I thought you were dead," Bradley said, walking over to her quickly. Tiffany still stood silent, not reacting to the genuine happiness in his eyes. She wouldn't let him get to her.

So did I. I hope you're not assuming that we're going to let you stay in this house," Blythe said, rudely. That made Tiffany angry, and Bradley looked at her in shock. Still, he didn't defend Tiffany and that hurt even more.