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marvelmaniac715 · 11 months

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A short while ago I posted about my hope of Chucky’s human body being in Season Three, and it got me thinking. How would Nica react to the original Chucky now that he can tower over her? I decided to write that as a fic. I hope you guys like it, because if it doesn’t end up happening in Season Three, at least this fic exists to entertain the idea of it :).

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There was something deeply wrong. Nica didn’t know exactly what it was, but she could feel it deep within her bones. Some sort of forbidden knowledge made her shiver in both fear and anticipation, as she grew antsy at the multitude of terrible possibilities. There was only one person who had ever made her feel this way, but he was dead now. Wasn’t he?

Pushing down her looming dread of something horrible happening, Nica went about her day, running a few errands, grabbing a coffee and a chocolate cupcake, even buying herself a new book to cheer herself up. She had almost forgotten about her bad feeling by the time she was nearly back home, but just as she approached the elevator that led up to her apartment, she felt someone grab hold of her wheelchair.

Nica tried to pretend that her chair had gotten caught on something, but then she felt someone breathing down her neck. With a rising sense of horror, she craned her neck upwards, only to be met with a horrifyingly familiar set of blue eyes and a twisted grin. There was no reason to ask who this was. She knew, even if he looked much older, and there were bones and maggots poking out of his skin. This was Chucky. Alive. But… how?

Nica began to hyperventilate in her immense panic, and she hardly noticed when Chucky stepped out from behind her chair and rested his far too cold hands on her shoulders, squeezing very tightly. Deeply confused, Nica took a gulp of air and asked:

“Whose body did you steal this time?”

Chucky simply shook his head and smirked, infuriating Nica, who immediately continued.

“What do you mean? You can’t just shake your head and not-‘

Chucky cut her off with a laugh and responded in a patronising tone:

“I didn’t steal this body, Nica. This is me.”

It didn’t click in Nica’s brain for a second, then it suddenly made sense. This man, whilst clearly older than the pictures and home movies she’d seen of Charles Lee Ray, looked exactly like him. They had the same eyes, the same face structure, even the exact same voice. Sure, Chucky could use something similar to his voice in most bodies he possessed, but this was an exact match.

Then the terror set in. She was staring up at Charles Lee Ray, in the flesh. All of a sudden, she understood the terror people had felt when he’d slaughtered them in the eighties. Her heart ached for her poor father, because the last person he’d seen was this terrifying man looming over her. Then of course, a secondary realisation set in. One of the hands that was currently squeezing her shoulders far too tightly had paralysed her, put her in a wheelchair, all before she was even born.

These horrifying realisations had left Nica stunned, unblinking. Seemingly noticing this, Chucky smirked and leaned in so that his face was mere centimetres away from Nica’s. Cold, mocking blue eyes met frightened, almost glazed over in terror blue eyes. The sensation of his breath on her face brought Nica back to reality, and her eyes landed on the maggot that was still burrowed in his cheek. Almost self-consciously, Chucky’s confident act dropped for a moment as he took a hand off of Nica to poke at his face, asking:

“Is there still one on me? I thought I’d gotten rid of these little bastards for good.”

Losing herself in the absurdity of this situation, Nica helpfully pointed and responded as Chucky began fumbling around:

“Yeah, you’ve … got one right there. No, no, not there, look where I’m pointing. Yeah, that’s it, do you want me to grab or are you gonna-‘

Her sentence was cut off when Chucky yanked the maggot from his face and slammed it against a wall, effectively and brutally killing it. Nica’s stomach turned, and her disgust returned tenfold. As Nica cringed, Chucky backed away from her and did a little spin, spreading his arms out as he asked with a grin:

“Well, what do you think? You reckon I can still get some tail like this?”

Nica’s brain short-circuited again as her mouth began moving on autopilot. If she’d been rationally thinking things through, she would’ve stayed silent. But instead, her nose wrinkled as she scornfully scoffed:

“You’re old!”

It was a rude thing to say, but that fact did come as a genuine shock to her. Of course she’d always known at the back of her mind that she was battling against a guy who was 31 in 1988 so he’d have to be in his sixties, but what has to be understood is that hearing a voice and trying to kill a children’s toy is one thing, but being confronted with the fact that she’d tried to slaughter a senior citizen was something else altogether. Chucky looked very hurt by this, and, looking down at the floor, he muttered:

“I’m 65.”

Trying to cover up her blunder, Nica queried:

“How is that possible? The bodies you inhabit don’t normally… age. It’s not that you look bad per se, it’s just that, it’s unexpected, y’know?”

At this, Chucky looked less hurt and grinned again as he began to explain.

“Well, as you probably already know, after a certain amount of time the human body begins to decompose. By the time I gathered enough remnants of my soul in various doll vessels in order to return to my original body, there wasn’t a scrap of flesh left on my bones. I was just a skeleton, which gave me the weirdest out of body experience of my life, let me tell you. But I still went through with it, and because there wasn’t any skin or features left, the voodoo magic I used improvised and aged my body to the age of my soul, making me look, well, old as you so eloquently put.”

His last few words were said with a pointed glare in Nica’s direction. This made the woman gulp as she began heavily regretting her choice of words. She knew that Chucky was vain, and as a doll he wasn’t that hard to get rid of- a kick or a punch could send him flying. But now he was human again, and tall. If he wanted to, he could simply put the brakes on Nica’s chair down, trapping her there as he killed her. The only reason she still lived was by the grace of Chucky’s benevolence, as fleeting as it was.

Instead of confronting her word choice, she decided to change the topic, gathering some of her courage as she asked defiantly:

“Aren’t you scared of dying soon? Flesh isn’t as resilient as plastic.”

There was a bitter laugh, then…:

“Nobody lives forever, Pierce. I’ve made my peace with death by becoming an executioner of sorts. I have plenty of doll bodies roaming around, not to mention two kids who carry my bloodline and the parts of me that I’ve left in you, Kyle and Andy, meaning that part of me will never die. I didn’t possess my original body as some sort of power play, I just wanted to return to something familiar. I missed the feel of my own teeth.”

Brushing off the last part of Chucky’s confession, Nica immediately became drawn to the part about him never dying, the parts ‘left’ in her, Andy and Kyle. Was that just metaphorical or something related to voodoo? She had to know.

“What do you mean about leaving parts of yourself in me, Kyle and Andy?”

Chucky sat down on a nearby bench and inspected his fingernails, seemingly ignoring her for a good long while. Then, he glanced at her and said:

“I like to think of my influence as a weed. Your once noble and heroic brains are the gardens I’ve slowly overtaken. The part of me in Andy Barclay led him to torturing a vessel of mine’s head for an entire year. Would a purely good man do that? The part of me in Kyle Simpson made her drug teenagers for God’s sake. That’s something I’d do, hell, I once swapped paint darts for real bullets so teens would shoot each other to death. The part of me in you is a little harder to spot, but whilst sharing your brain I noticed that your perception of right and wrong was becoming slightly… crooked. I didn’t think much of it until I learnt that you tried to shoot Tiffany. Of course, I wasn’t happy to hear that the bullet hit my kid, and I’m still not entirely over it, but I suppose there was nothing to be done.”

It took a special brand of narcissism to see one’s influence as being so powerful, but given the evidence that had been presented to and by Chucky, his view of the situation made a lot of sense. But that throwaway comment about Glen didn’t seem quite right to Nica. It seemed kind of flippant, like he didn’t really care, so she pressed further.

“Wow, you’re really torn up about your kids ‘dying’, aren’t you?”

Chucky’s expression became unreadable, and his tone emotionless as he said:

“They’re together in one body again, just like when they were first born. What sort of father would I be if I wasn’t happy for them?”

After that, there was an almost amiable silence between them, interrupted every so often by someone coming up or down in the elevator. Eventually, Nica softly asked:

“Why did you come here? You don’t seem like you want to hurt me.”

Chucky replied in an unsure tone, as if he wasn’t quite sure.

“I… wanted you to see me. Yeah, I wanted you to know what I actually look like. We have quite a history, don’t we Nica?”

All Nica could do was nod as she watched Chucky raise his right hand in a little wave. She knew what was coming, but still she stayed silent as he continued.

“I think it was this hand that did it, all those years ago. To think that such a small stab could have such life altering consequences, it’s weird to think about, isn’t it?”

Again, Nica nodded, eyes brimming with rage-filled tears at the injustice of it all. Then, Chucky did something very strange. He got up from the bench, walked over to Nica, knelt down in front of her and took hold of her chin with his left hand. With his right hand, he brushed a strand of hair out of a now quivering Nica’s face as he mused aloud to himself:

“Y’know, you look quite a lot like me when I was young. You’ve seen the photos, you know what I mean. You remind me of myself too, over the last few decades. Trapped inside a body you can’t escape. Ironically, both of our predicaments were my fault. I think that’s why I like you.”

Nica didn’t even get a moment to think about what he’d said before Chucky stood up and regarded her with a cold stare. He folded his arms behind his back as another maggot poked out of the bony holes in his flesh. As he began backing away, he commanded her in a voice that was worthy of his former reputation as a terrifying serial killer - the Lakeshore Strangler.

“Now, when you get home, I want you to call your little friends, Barclay and Simpson. Tell them that I’ve got a new body, and that they’ll never guess which one. Also, please let them know that I’ll pay them both visits soon so that they get to ‘play’ with someone their own size.”

With that, he walked away, whistling under his breath as Nica processed what had just happened.

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