I didn't Mean it (Child's Play Fanfiction)

| Chapter 5 |

You hopped off of your bed and ran outside. Mike was in his car waiting for you. "Where are you going?" Your mom said sounding concerned. "Um, meeting a friend." You lied hoping she would buy it, because of course, you didn't have any. "Ok, be back by  7 PM ok?" She confirmed. You nodded and left to the car. "Hey, Y/N." Mike began. "Hey." You sat in the back pretty silent. You thought it would be awkward to start making conversation with an officer, so you stayed quiet. You realized that his car wasn't the same as when you met him the night before. "Hey Mike? What happened to your old car? Something happen?" You chimed in. "Don't worry about it." His response made you sit back wondering if you should have even talked in the first place. You arrived there shortly, and hopped out. Mike guided you where to go, and when you opened the door to the room where he stayed, nothing. At least that's what you thought. Before you looked down to see a bloody John, on his last few breathes. You sat down to him, "John!" You shouted. "Listen to....me. You h-have to save the boy.... Chucky is after him right n-now. His.... *cough* heart is almost human. Shoot him thr-ough the heart... It's the only way... Through t-the heart." He choked out, before finally being put to rest. His heart stopped, and it was all over for him. You tear up and stand up. "I've got to go home. NOW." You claimed. "I always told my brother, if he was in danger of any reason, to go home. I've got to get there before Chucky does." Without a word. Mike pushed you out the door and leading to the car. He drove down there as fast as he could. When you got out of the car, Mike rolled down his window and said, "Your mom, went to the mental hospital, I've got to go get her. Stay safe, ok?" You had no idea that he cared for you that much, but you said a quick ok and ran inside to get prepared. You ran to get knifes and a baseball bat from Andy's closet. You ran and hid in the closet for about 20 minutes, thinking about Andy. What if he was already dead, or injured somewhere? You worry on and on about the possibilities, until you here the door open and shut frantically.

You grab your knife and open the closet ever so quietly enough to step out and run. You spot Andy in the kitchen, and you run over to him. "Oh my God, Andy! Are you ok? Where's Chucky at?" You scowled through the questions like a lightning bolt. "He's chasing me. I outran him home but he's still coming." You sigh in relief. "I blocked the door so he's can't come in." Andy says with a bit of relief in his voice. And so he thought that he was safe, however, after that sentence, there was a loud sound coming from the living room. You shoved Andy into his room quietly and into the closet. "Stay here." You whispered to him. He nodded and you grabbed the bat. You shut the closet and tip toed outside into the halls. Tiny footsteps were echoing on the other side of the apartment. You turned to a corner, getting your bat ready to swing. Chucky turned around the corner "Ahhh! Surprise!" He shouted at you. He didn't look cute anymore. The details on him changed dramatically. His face distorted into less of a plastic doll, into a fleshy human like face. Instead of painted on eyebrows, there was actual hair there. As for his hair, it seemed to have darkened and retreated into a way I can't explain. His eyes went from that cartoony blue, to a translucent blue. You can almost see right through them. He had a burn mark on his right cheek, and a piece of tape covering what looked like a gunshot wound. You swung the bat hard, but of course, it missed, and broke into two in the progress. You ran into the kitchen and backed up against the stove. Chucky approached you slowly, holding a large knife his dirty little hands. A smile plastered on his face. You braced yourself, with a tear streaking down your cheek. He was right in front of you now, as he raised the knife high into the air, as if he was about to stab it into something. His eyes turned into pure rage, and he froze. He dropped the knife on the floor, and his face turned from fury, to guilt. His head tilted down and he sat in front of you. He held his hand up to his face. You opened your eyes to find him just, sitting there. You got up on your knees and looked closer at him. There was some sort of substance leaking through his hands. Wait, was he... crying?