Spellbound Façade

chapter 6

TW: freak out!! + chuncky doesn't understand personal space ^^

-w-

You couldn't remember much of last night. You could recall faintly drinking more and the crued stink of alcohol on Chucky's breath, but nothing more. Did you eat the pizza? Was it burgers?

You rubbed your head.

Had to get off alcohol. Filthy habit you picked up with smoking, not long after your depression had gotten terrible again. Like it always did. Returning.

Couldn't remember one day when it wasn't a rollercoaster. Fading in and out, through bitter anger and hatred and blissful happiness coexisted side by side. You grabbed at the water beside your bed.

"Gimme sometha that, will ya?"

You grimaced. Who the-what the- how- it rang quickly through. Charles Lee Ray was in your bed and you couldn't remember why. Looking down, you still had clothes on and you thanked whatever the fuck was out there for that notion. But still better yet, why was he in your goddamn sheets.

"Why are you in my bed, Chucky."

He grinned slightly into a scowl, grabbing the water.

"Wouldn't you like to know." He answered, crunching the plastic water bottle slightly and drank.

What a... a nosey little prick..!

"Yeah, I asked, dumb dumb. Why are you in my fucking bed?" You grimaced, held the sheets tighter around you, implying something that you left unsaid. Charles stared at you, perturbed.

"Oh-ah! Come on,.. Really? You think I'd do that. To you- of anyone. I'm a serial killer but I'm not a fucking monster."

"You were animated and brought to life through dark magic. Doesn't that make you a monster?"

"Your mom fucked your dad and magically made you, does that make you a fucking monster?"

You huffed, turning away from him. Every time you talked, it was just arguing. What was this fucker still doing in your house? You wanted him out. Out of your bed, out of your life.

Ah, right.

You had promised him a body. His body. Hopefully with organs well intact and not completely severed arteries. You silently prayed for all of your medical and sewing knowledge to come together with the fact that you'd have to animate a corpse. Jesus, Victor. Turn yourself in.

You rolled your eyes, trying to rid your inner dialogue.

"I know how we're gonna get your body," You started, looking over at his lazed position on your bed. "I have some resources I can use to get into the morgue. I'm sure they won't mind." You grimaced slightly. To be in the science division again was going to be a pain in the ass.

"Oh I'm sure they won't, toots. They don't have sticks up their asses or anythin' so, it's good." He griped. "I know the science -freak by the books-type. Not my jazz." He gestured with his hands and you frowned.

"Oh brother." You griped, rolling your head back. "This is becoming a giant favor."

"Do you consider living a giant favor?" He grimaced.

"Uh. Stop twisting my words. You always do that- stop it." You complained, staring at him dead in the eyes.

"You're such a whiny brat." He scoffed. But paused for a moment. "Uh. I'm not gonna say this again so you better fuckin' listen this time." He turned to you, pulling your gaze to him. He pulled at your shirt, pulling you closer. "You're not too bad, kid. Maybe mouthy-but uh not bad. so.." He paused and you couldn't stare at him anymore, irritating you. "Thaanks."

He brushed his hands on your shirt, unclear of what to do.

You were scared suddenly. Things felt like they moved way too fast. Whatever was moving had to STOP moving. Jumping up, away from his touch. Eyes shrieked, 'what did I do?, What did I do?' asking you. What did you do?

You jumped up, and grabbed your bag before running out of your apartment.

Away, away, away.

-w-