•𝙉𝙤𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙪𝙣• [𝘾𝙝𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧]

Chapter 34

Your eyes struggled to open, forehead twitching as scattered memories of what happened before everything went black flashed through your unsteady mind. It was almost like you could still hear the sound of rain crashing down onto the concrete you laid on, could still feel the puddle that began to build up beneath you.

The first thing that hit you senses was the sound of endless dripping, echoing from afar. With it, accompanied a throbbing headache that you were starting to get all too familiar with due to the amount of traumatic events you had caught yourself up in, all spaced in between the matter of a few days. Your eyelids finally opened, feeling sore when they did, your eyes burned with dryness and so did your throat, your vision being greeted with a blurry mix of dark shades of brown, pupils dilating in the dark.

You realized you were laying on your side, your arm feeling numb and crushed under the weight you had put on it for the entirety of the time you remained unconscious, feeling it begin to itch as it pressed against the scratchy surface of some sort of fabric underneath you.

Your eyesight began to clear as everything came together. You tried pushing yourself up from your laid down position, groaning in pain as you felt your muscles twinge, limbs aching in response to your movement. Nevertheless, you managed to sit yourself up, looking down to see what you had been laying on, only to realize it was an old, extremely uncomfortable, tattered and torn couch, it's material similar to one of a potato sack. You inhaled sharply at this, the smell of moisture and wood rot making you hold back a gag, feeling lethargic.

You looked around your surroundings, not being able to see much due to how dark the place was, your only source of light being from small crevices in between pieces of wood that boarded up a shattered window not too far from you.

You realized that you were in what appeared to be an old, unfamiliar, and you hoped to be abandoned, house. There were several old paintings hung on each wall, all of them worn and some of them peeling as their colours faded dull, they're frames dusty, some of them appeared to rust.  There was an old bricked fireplace, filled with old, scattered ashes from the last time a fire was successfully lit, and a rusty metal bucket at the corner of the room that brown water dripped into from the ceiling above, despite it already being full and overflowing into the moldy wooden floor that appeared to sink.

The whole place felt so moist, so humid, so warm. It didn't help that every piece of fabric you had on stuck to your skin from the rainwater you were exposed to before you had blacked out.

You recalled yourself feeling lightheaded. Next thing you knew you were on the sidewalk, blinking weakly as you felt the increase of heaviness in the rain that poured down, seeping into your eyes, nose, mouth, everything. The piercing ringing from your eardrums blocked out and muffled the sounds of the roaring thunder, it being all you could hear and all you could react to.  You recalled how lightning beamed every few seconds, allowing you to watch as the doll approached, blue eyes searching yours as rain water dripped from the ends of his orange hair, streaks of it covering his scarred face. His eyebrows were furrowed, eyes narrowed as they looked down at you, glinting with indignation and somewhat humane.

Wait, Chucky... Where the hell was he?

Part of you hoped that he had just left you there and went on his way as you asked yourself that question, feeling solace as you realized he was nowhere in sight. But then you felt something else, something different - worry, fear.

He didn't really just leave you here, did he?

And if so, why were you so upset about it? This was what you had always wanted, to finally be away from him, to finally be free, safe and sound in your own company. Your wish was finally granted, and for some peculiar reason, you felt anything but tranquillity.