I'm Still Seeing Dead People

Chapter Seven: Not Violins, Vio-o-lence

A/N: From here on out, the book is going to get pretty gory and dark. Going to be a lot more trigger warnings, probably. I also plan on bringing in a guest at the end for a game. That was a huge hint as to who the guest is. Also, to the friend I offended for quoting Charles on the quality of music violins make, I apologize. But, guitar will always be better. Also, your haircut is fine. 

She did not just say who you thought she just said. 

"What? You're pregnant?" You gasped, dropping the mug on the ground. 

"Yeah, I'm pregnant." Tiffany looked down at the ground, her eyes showing that she was thinking hard about something difficult. 

"Have you told Charles?" 

"No, that's what I tried to do when he came to bed. But he was too drunk and tired to understand. Or care, for that matter. He came in, took off his shoes, and got into bed. He passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow." She sighed. 

"Well, congratulations, but what about Charles? He was a horrible father and he seems like an awful husband." You inquired, picking up your mug. 

"Sometimes, he is. He really only cares about me when he wants something from me. Otherwise, it's all about him." She sighed again. "I really wish I could kill him. But I can't raise the baby alone- I just can't!" 

"Tiffany, you've got so many people here who are willing to help. And, if Charles doesn't want to be a father anymore, than he doesn't have to be." You grabbed her hand and squeezed it, reassuring her that you weren't lying. 

"Are you implying that we-" 

"I don't know. We could kill him. Or, all of us could raise the baby alongside you and he'll just sit back and watch Frankenstein's Monster." 

"Well, what if our next move is made up by how he reacts to the pregnancy?" Tiffany suggested. 

"That's a better idea. How did he react when he first saw Glen?" You inquired. 

"He said, 'He looks like he fell off the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down' and once Glen proved that we were his parents, he passed out." Tiffany recalled. "He took him to kill someone that night. Glen hated it. Chucky always tried to force him into things that Glen didn't like." 

"Well, so far, I think the outcome might be bloody." You remarked. "Why don't you make your announcement at breakfast?" 

"I can't." She explained. "It's a voodoo pregnancy. In a few hours, I'll look nine months pregnant. Then, a few more hours after that, I'll have the baby." 

"Should we wake everyone up?" You thought aloud. 

"I think we should."

________________________________________

Tiffany sat on the couch, you at her side. You had grabbed a baseball bat Freddy had stolen from the Daycare Center's basement, where he worked before he was 'killed', and hidden it underneath the couch. 

No one looked please to be awake. Jeff had brought Smile in from under the porch, even though he didn't need to. Maybe it was just so he didn't feel left out. 

"Okay, we're all here. What's so important that you have to wake us all up at three in the morning?" Jeff grunted, plopping down on the couch with Smile at his feet. 

"I, uh, have an announcement." Tiffany said. "I'm pregnant." 

You and Tiffany watched Charles, who was sitting across from the two of you. 

"Chucky? I said-" 

"I heard you."

"Well, you know how it works. I'll have the baby in either the late afternoon or evening." 

"Uh huh." 

"Aren't you excited?" You asked, shocked that you might actually end up killing someone. 

"No." Charles replied, wiping the sleep from his face. "No, I'm not. I never wanted to be a father. What makes you think I've suddenly changed my wind?" 

"Oh." Tiffany looked down at the ground, trying to hide her tears. 

"We can talk about this more at breakfast." You decided. "Everyone can go back to bed now." 

Most people gave Tiffany sympathetic glances, but didn't say anything. They figured that she was in a fragile place, so giving her space was best. 

They hadn't the slightest idea. 

"When?" Tiffany asked, trying not to cry. 

You glanced at the clock on the wall. It read three twenty-three. 

"Seven minutes." You decided. "Then, it'll be three thirty." 

Tiffany sat for those seven minutes, crying silently. You sat, looking at the clock. Anger was slowly rising in you. Charles really was a horrible person. He killed his own son. He didn't even love his son. He doesn't care about his wife, and he doesn't care that she's pregnant. You didn't know if it was the grief talking, or if you see these people way too much, but there was no stopping your mind when the clock had reached three thirty.  

Charles deserves what's coming to him. 

You grabbed the bat from under the couch and handed it to Tiffany. "Do you want to do it? Or should I?" 

"I'll do it." She sniffed. 

Tiffany got up and walked up the stairs, holding the bat like Wendy Torrance. Maybe she didn't know how to hold a bat, but she certainly knew how to use it. 

A scream of pain was briefly heard before the house fell silent again. Then, there was only a muffled sound of what could only be described as walking through mud. 

'Overkill,' You thought. 'She's taking all her anger out on him.' 

A few minutes later, Tiffany was being dragged down the stairs. She wasn't fighting. In fact, it looked like all the fight had been taken out of her. She was winded, covered in blood, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. If Carrie had been a story meant for heartbreak, Tiffany was definitely playing Carrie. 

"What was that?" Freddy screamed. 

"He deserved it." 

"He deserved it?! No! You deserve this!" 

By now, the whole house had gathered to watch the fight at the bottom of the stairwell. Freddy threw Tiffany to the floor and dove on top of her. He swung his arms madly, like a dog digging a hole. To your horror, pieces of Tiffany began flying behind Freddy. Not only pieces of her, but her clothes, too. 

Freddy was ripping her to shreds. 

"Freddy, no! Stop!" You cried, running over to what remained of Tiffany. 

It was too late, thought. Tiffany looked like someone had emptied out a paper shredder and tried to make Papier Mache with blood.

Everyone was shocked. Even Charles. Did he look like he cared? No. But he was definitely shocked. Well, everyone except Jed. Jed looked very, very angry. 

Jed looked vengeful. 

A/N: Figure out Jed's plan? Here's a hint: He carries on the nature of this chapter.