#mixtered

[mixter-crown]

✨🐇 🪕🐐 🎶✨

The kid and the leveret ~ Performance mode: on !

>> Part One (unmasked version) (1/3)

>>THIS POST is Part Two (2/3)

>> Part Three (Bellstrum version) (3/3)

[lexyscross]

So much to be said about the fact that Chucky was groomed into being a serial killer by an adult as a child, and now he has groomed a child into becoming at least his accomplice. The cycle continues.

So much to be said. But Don Mancini won't.

[megamixter]

Gift art for my husband to ring in the new year! Here's to a better 2024!

[Image ID: A digital art drawing of an Umbreon and an Espeon from Pokemon. Both Pokemon are sitting in a field of grass under a blue sky. The Umbreon is laying on the ground with a love ball in it's mouth and looking at the Espeon in a playful way. The Espeon is standing up and looking at the Umbreon with a neutral expression. /. End ID]

[barclaysangel]

If Junior was at Lord Incarnate

Dr. Mixter: Someone ought to put you in a mental hospital!

Junior: Someone should put you in a box floating down the river, GRANDMA!

[silvershewolf247]

Madman

The next couple of days were painfully slow and passed all too quickly. Not that Andy could keep track of them. He had tried to make a note of how many times Chucky cleaned his leg. But his drug-induced haze made that impossible. And anytime Andy thought he might be waking up a bit or getting some feeling back in his leg, Chucky would come over with that fucking needle. He couldn’t believe how much he missed being in pain.  

Chucky had gone back to spending his time with Andy. Chucky didn’t put the gag back in. There wasn’t a point. The drugs softened any attempt to yell or curse out Chucky. At this point, Andy hated hearing his own voice more than Chucky did. Andy was trying to plan something, but everything felt too fucking foggy. Eventually, his stupor was interrupted by the sounds of heels on creaky floorboards. Andy groaned. Chucky laughed. 

“Doc, what do I owe the pleasure?” Chucky asked. 

“Charlie, you know why I’m here,” Dr. Mixter said. 

“I know,” Chucky said, gesturing to Andy “But he might not, so let’s have some fun with it,” Chucky finished. Dr. Mixter rolled her eyes as she approached. 

“I’m sure he’s figured it out,” Dr. Mixter said, as she grabbed Andy’s leg. Andy was surprised he could feel her do it. It felt more like pressure than pain and it was easy for Andy to avoid reacting, but he could definitely feel something. Then he heard some snipping. His face went white as he looked up and saw the sutures being pulled out, piece by piece. Andy thought he was going to puke. Pure terror finally broke through the fog he'd been trapped in. He tried to breathe, to think of something, anything, as she pulled out the last suture. Andy looked at Chucky and noted something.

“You don’t have the heart,” Andy said, bluntly, the fear and desperation just under the surface. 

“No, Tiffany took it in the divorce,” Chucky responded, his voice tinged with bitterness. Then he leaned closer, patted Andy’s chest, and continued, “But I don’t need it. You were the first, after all.” 

“You ran out of time,” Andy responded his desperation to find a hole in Chucky’s plan coming through. Chucky sat back up.

“See that’s something I’ve been thinking about. Ya see,” Chucky started, gesturing to Andy’s body and the mess of wounds and scars.

“This has all been very meditative for me,” Chucky said. He looked at the mess of scars up Andy’s arm with a fond smile. 

“Reminds me a bit of painting, with a different type of canvas,” Chucky said, tracing the scars with his hand. 

“Of course, I imagine we’ve both been reflecting these last couple of months,” Chucky said, Andy glared at him. 

“Me. I was thinking about what dear old John told me,” Chucky continued, “And I realized, he never actually gave me a time limit.” Chucky gestured to himself. 

“I gave myself one, and you want to know why?” he asked. Andy didn’t respond. 

“Well I hate to admit it, I was scared,” Chucky continued, “Scared of dying again, scared of it being permanent, scared of what might come next.” Andy noticed the doctor finishing wrapping up his leg. He could feel his heart in his throat. 

“So I didn’t let myself win, but you know what Andy…” Chucky said, leaning in close again, “I’m not scared anymore.” 

“Are you?” he asked. Chucky moved his hand to Andy’s head. 

“Wait!” Andy screamed, finally getting his voice back. Chucky hesitated,

“Please…” Andy said, barely able to breathe, “Please, just fucking kill me.” They were both quiet for a minute. Chucky looked dumbfounded. 

“Are you… begging me?” Chucky asked. He leaned back onto his feet. 

“You haven’t begged me for anything since you were six,” Chucky continued, astonished. 

“You must really fucking hate this,” Chucky said. Andy looked away. Chucky grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked it until Andy looked back at him. 

“Look at me,” Chucky said. He paused, almost disbelieving, “This is what really scares you,” he raised his hand. Andy was silent. 

“Buddy, you’re asking me for a fucking favor, least you can do is answer me,” Chucky said. Andy stayed silent. Chucky shrugged and put his hand on Andy’s head. 

“Yes, fucking yes. Okay!” Andy screamed. Chucky smiled, kept his hand there for a second, and watched the fear grow on Andy’s face. Then he moved some of Andy’s matted hair out of his face. Chucky laughed, while Andy realized he hadn’t been breathing.

“Be honest, is this what keeps you up at night?” Chucky continued, he was smiling. 

“I’ve had nightmares about it,” Andy responded. 

“For how long?” Chucky asked, his smile growing bigger. Andy took in a deep breath. 

“I had them a few times after the first time you died, less than I dreamt about you killing me.” Andy started. He looked away for a second, getting caught up in his horrible memories before Chucky yanked his hair again. Andy grimaced. 

“But they became more frequent after the first time you came back, especially after the Good Guy factory,” Andy continued. Chucky’s smile broke out into a laugh.

“Wow, y’know, when I picked…” Chucky started, still laughing. Then he stopped for a second.  

“Ah fuck!” he exclaimed, “What was that annoying little shit’s name? The one from your stupid military school” Chucky said, getting a bit frustrated. But not enough to take the smile from his face. 

“Tyler?” Andy asked. 

“Tyler, that’s it, annoying little Tyler,” Chucky said somewhat relieved. 

“When I picked Tyler over you, I thought I was fucking you over. Making it so I could kill you. But it was a relief to you, wasn’t it?” Chucky asked. Andy was silent for a second. 

“Yes,” Andy admitted, shame in his voice. Chucky laughed

“And when I possessed Nica, I bet your first thought was ‘better her than me’,” Chucky said. 

“Not in those exact words…” Andy said, “But a similar sentiment.”

Chucky threw his head back and laughed, practically falling onto his ass. Andy saw his chance and swiped Chucky’s knife off his side. He hid it under him before Chucky looked back down. 

“You really are a fucked up little coward, aren’t ya?” Chucky said, repositioning himself over Andy.

“Honestly Andy, if I had known how much you despised the idea of me possessing you,” Chucky started. He leaned in closer, “I never would’ve stopped trying,” he finished whispering into Andy’s ear. Chucky laughed as he leaned back. He put his hand on Andy’s head. 

“Ade beaucoup Damballa! Give me the power I beg of you,” Chucky started. The thunder and lightning started up. 

And the knife finally sliced through Andy’s second restraint. Andy grabbed the knife with his opposite hand and jammed it into the open mound of flesh on the side of Chucky’s head, covering himself in blood and knocking Chucky off the table. 

“Fuck!” Chucky exclaimed. 

He made quick work of unlatching his legs. Mixter grabbed a needle out of her bag and went to stab the back of his neck. But Andy snapped back and elbowed her. Andy was up and out before either of them could get back up. 

Andy ran through the night on pure fear and adrenaline. He didn’t feel the blood rush back into his leg as he got up. He didn’t feel his muscles screaming being put back into motion after months of unuse. He didn’t feel the rain soaking through his clothes as he ran. He didn’t feel the scraping of thorned brushes. And when he finally reached a road, he didn’t feel fear jumping in front of a moving car. 

A woman in her late thirties stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She was screaming. As she walked up to Andy, he tried to catch his breath. He grabbed her shoulders desperately trying to keep himself stable. She started screaming. 

“Wait,” Andy yelled over her continued screaming, she tried to pull away. He was soaking wet and covered in blood, he knew he must look like a madman. 

“Please, listen to me,” he screamed over her. She stopped screaming for a second.  

“Someone is trying to chase me down and do something horrible to me” Andy started, he looked around to see if he could see any sign of Chucky or Mixter. 

“I need to get out of here, I don’t care how, have me hospitalized, institutionalized, arrested, hit me with your car, I don’t care, I need to get out of here,” he said. His voice was manic and desperate. She was clearly scared, but she heard what he said.  

“Please,” he begged. He let her go, she shook him off, he noticed the blood staining her shirt now. She looked him over and took in the bits of scar tissue that slipped into view through his clothes. They stood there for a second, Andy looked around again. Still no sign of Chucky or his doctor. 

“Okay,” she said opening her back door, “Get in. I’ll take you to the hospital.” Andy smiled at her and got in. 

“Don’t try anything funny, I have a gun and I will shoot,” she said. Andy could tell she was bluffing. The drive took 20 minutes, and it was hazy, he was fighting off the urge to pass out, in case Chucky was still in pursuit. She pulled over next to a hospital entrance. 

“Thank you, you have no idea how much I owe you,” Andy said, as he got out. She smiled at him as she drove off. He had finally started feeling everything wrong with his body and he was grabbing onto a railing for support, then onto the door handle.  

Once he got inside, he smiled and laughed, thinking about how Chucky couldn’t get him in front of all these people. Then his leg gave out under him. Andy didn’t feel himself fall to the floor. And the nurses fussing around him were just blurs with muffled voices. 

When Andy came to later, he tried to sit up, only to find his arms and legs were restrained again. He was ready to scream until he noticed the white walls, the wood floor, and the smell of disinfectant. It was the first time in his life that he found comfort in a hospital. He smiled and was about to let himself drift off again. Feeling comfortable for the first time in who knows how long. 

As he closed his eyes, he heard the door open and footsteps. It was a police officer. He looked vaguely familiar. But Andy couldn’t be sure, he had met a lot of policemen. Whether they be Norris’s poker buddies or any of his numerous interrogators. 

“Hello there Mr. Barclay,” he said. He held a file under his arm. 

“I’m Officer James,” Andy turned his head to him. He sat in the chair next to Andy’s bed and took a leather notepad out of his pocket. He rested it with the file on the table rest connected to the chair. 

“We’re all very relieved to have found you,” he started. Andy turned his head away and looked blankly at the ceiling. 

“I’m here to ask you a few questions,” he continued. Andy didn’t respond. 

“Mr. Barclay,” he said, trying to get Andy’s attention. 

“Can I please ask you some questions?” he asked. Andy continued staring at the ceiling. 

“I can’t exactly stop you,” Andy said. His voice was monotone. 

“Mr. Barclay, the doctors noted your body has quite a bit of recovering wounds and recently developed scar tissue,” he started. 

“That’s not a question,” Andy said. The officer took a deep breath, annoyed at the comment. And made a note on his leather pad.

“My question is… what happened?” he clarified. 

“I was held prisoner and tortured, I don’t know how long it went on,” Andy said. The officer nodded. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” the officer’s voice was unemotive, “Can you tell me who did this?” he asked.  

“Dr. Mixter,” Andy said. The officer made a note and looked at him skeptically. 

“Your psychiatrist did this?” he clarified. 

“Yes,” Andy said. 

“Her notes on you indicate you’ve always been quite hostile to her,” he responded. 

“You don’t believe me,” Andy said, finally looking at the officer. 

“Dr. Mixter volunteers at a nearby school for troubled children. She’s done a lot of good for the community. And most notably, she has put immense effort into helping you recover from your mental breakdown, at little monetary benefit to herself. You have to understand that it’s a bit of a stretch to believe,” he responded. 

“She’s going to hurt other people if you don’t stop her, and it will be your fault,” Andy said, his voice monotonous. The officer made another note. 

“You have to understand that you aren’t exactly a reliable source for information,” he said. 

“I don’t care if you believe me, just keep her away from me,” Andy said. 

“Of course, you won’t have to see her if you don’t want to,” he said. Andy nodded. 

The officer seemed to take that as a cue to continue his questions.

“Why did you leave Harrogate?” he asked.

“Aside from my doctor being a psychotic bitch?” Andy asked. The officer didn’t seem amused. He made another note. Andy looked back at the ceiling.

“I didn’t want to be there,” Andy continued. 

“Your paperwork indicates that you committed yourself, so what changed?” he asked. 

“I only did that to try and stop the murders,” Andy said, “I tried to warn Dr. Foley, but they wouldn’t let me in.” 

“How’d you know the murders were going to happen,” he asked. 

“They had already started, it was on the news,” Andy said. The officer made another note. 

“And did you see the murders, do you know who did it?” he asked. Andy knew this was coming. 

“It doesn’t matter what I say, you’ve made up your mind on who did it,” Andy responded. 

“Mr. Barclay, I understand that you empathize with Ms. Pierce’s delusions,” he started, it was clear he was attempting to sound concerned. Andy rolled his eyes. The officer made another note. 

“But, she is a dangerous murderess, she has and will continue to hurt people and any information you can give me on what happened that night could help stop that,” he said. 

“I know you’re a good man Andy and that you’re deeply sick,” he continued. He put a hand on Andy’s. Andy pulled away as much as he could.

“Don’t you fucking touch me pig,” Andy hissed. The officer sighed and took another note.

“Look, Mr. Barclay, right now I need you to prove to me you’re sane, and if you don’t you’re going to a higher security mental hospital, so tell me what really happened that day, and I promise you’ll be free by the end of the day,” he said. Andy realized the sun had risen since he had escaped. He must have been asleep for hours. 

“You really want to know who killed everyone at Harrogate?” Andy asked. 

“Yes, Mr. Barclay,” he said. 

“And if I tell you the truth, I get to go free,” Andy said. 

“Yes,” the officer said, he was smiling. Andy smiled and leaned closer to the officer. He let the officer’s excitement grow. 

“Chucky did it!” Andy said, and then he burst out laughing. The officer stood up and walked away. 

“Enjoy your next institution, Mr. Barclay,” he said. 

“I will!” Andy responded, still laughing. Andy laughed like a madman until he finally got worn out. They’d never get it, Andy didn’t care. He got away. 

Eventually, he fell asleep again. He drifted in and out of sleep for a while, only interrupted by the nurses trying to get him to eat something. Until he was awoken by clicking heels. 

He opened his eyes to see Dr. Mixter closing the door behind them. 

“Why’d they let you in?” Andy asked horror in his voice. “GET HER OUT OF HERE!” he screamed past her.

“They aren’t going to keep me from you, you are still my patient after all Mr. Barclay,” she said. She put her bag onto the window ledge. She opened it up and pulled out the mangled form of Chucky Prime. Andy’s breathing picked up again. He only held onto his composure for a second. 

“SOMEONE GET IN HERE!” he screamed past her. 

“They aren’t going to listen to you Mr. Barclay, I told them not to come in unless I call for them,” she said placing Chucky onto his chest. He smiled. 

“Did you really think you could convince the whole world you were crazy and it wouldn't come back to bite you? Did you Andy?” Chucky asked. 

“HELP, SOMEBODY FUCKING HELP ME,” Andy screamed. 

“Music to my ears,” Chucky said. “Go ahead, scream your head off, there’s no one left to help you,” Chucky continued. 

“No Mom,” Chucky mocked, Andy tried desperately to loosen the restraints. 

“No Kyle,” Chucky continued and smiled as Andy’s face fell. 

“But don’t worry sport, I’m here for ya,” Chucky said. And he leaned closer, 

“And I always will be,” Chucky finished, smiling. 

“Now where were we,” he said, setting his hand on Andy’s head. 

And sure enough, when Andy screamed, no one was concerned. It was nothing unexpected from a madman.

[kloop-of-krystalz]

Characters' walking styles I'd like to learn and perfect:

Crowley (Good omens)

Jax (The amazing digital circus)

Yeah that's what I can think of rn

Feel free to add more 👍

[rainbowdelicsunshine]

Are there any theories or fan interpretations of the franchise that you find particularly intriguing or convincing?

Since I have WAYYYY too many interpretations and theories to really list them here

So I'll just send you over to this one I have about Chucky's dynamic with Dr. Mixter!

That, and I also HC that The Intruder that killed Chucky's parents (yes I also hc that Chucky gaslit himself into believing he killed his mom willingly when he didn't) was Tiffany's Father!

Thank you so much again my good friend! Have a fantastic day!!

[marvelmaniac715]

This isn’t a fanfiction. I actually decided to write that essay I joked about in my last post. I just want to give a word of warning: I am probably not qualified to talk about this, I’m not a psychologist, I just wanted to give this a shot and write my observations on the Chucky franchise through the lens of parental abuse.

————————————————————-

After a long period of examination, I’ve concluded that the Chucky franchise is mainly about Chucky traumatising and interfering with the lives of various children. This could perhaps be an allegory for parental abuse and manipulation. In this essay I will examine Chucky’s relationships with Andy Barclay, Jake Wheeler, Barbara and Nica Pierce and Glen and Glenda Tilly-Ray-Valentine.

It is fair to assume that (before their murders) Chucky’s parents spoiled him. This is evident when they do little to nothing when he smashes his birthday piñata with a bat. The fact that young Charles is comfortable and unafraid of doing this in front of his parents suggests that something similar happened before and was not challenged or corrected. Perhaps overindulgence fed into Chucky’s anger issues to the point where, if denied, Chucky flies into a rage?

As well as parental abuse (which I will discuss shortly) Chucky has frequently engaged in domestic abuse as well as murder. His relationships with Sarah Pierce and Tiffany Valentine display a large amount of entitlement and mental instability, from killing his romantic partners’ loved ones to threatening their lives if not worse, Chucky’s desire for control is evident in his interactions with women. His murders could be seen as an outlet for his fury, he almost always seems happier (if not calmer) when he’s killed someone. In his own words, killing helps him to ‘relax’, and much like the destruction of the piñata, this form of destructive behaviour has been encouraged by people such as Tiffany and Dr. Mixter, who should have endeavoured to correct this behaviour yet refused to due to their own fascinations with Chucky’s insanity.

The first two victims of Chucky’s parental abuse are Barbara and Nica Pierce. Whilst it’s not explicitly implied that Chucky abused Barbara (probably due to a desire to raise her as his own) up until her death it is clear that she has been impacted by the traumatic events of her youth. She struggles to maintain a healthy relationship with her husband (probably recalling what happened to her mother, even subconsciously) and has a nanny raise her child. A reason for this (as well as for social status) could be either an inability to connect with her (not wanting to get attached in case she loses her in a similar incident to what happened to her and her mother when she was young) or a desire to protect her child with additional help, refusing to let Alice go through what she went to. The trauma that Chucky induced at an early age led Barbara to seek distractions or answers in life, through religion and an affair with Alice’s nanny.

Nica is an example of the longterm effects of parental abuse. Before she is even born, one of Chucky’s outbursts leaves her paralysed (years later, Chucky denies responsibility for this and insists that he is the victim). This betrayal makes it harder for Nica to trust people, especially when Chucky possesses her and tries to make her cooperate with him. 

Whereas Nica Pierce is an example of the longterm physical effects of parental abuse, Andy Barclay is an example of the longterm mental effects of parental abuse. He first encounters Chucky as a child, and the doll sends the boy’s life into total upheaval, eventually causing him to be removed from his mother. Along with physical violence, Chucky tries to manipulate Andy into thinking that he was sent from his deceased father to be with him, almost trying to take Andy’s father’s place in his life. To this day, Andy cannot ever feel safe because he always fears that Chucky will hurt him again. If looked at through the lens of parental abuse and not a desire to steal Andy’s body, Chucky’s continuous attempts to hurt Andy could be attributed to a desire to control, cultivated in his youth due to a lack of intervention when Chucky first displayed violent tendencies.

Glen and Glenda are Chucky’s only biological children. His relationship with them contains a continuous cycle of punishment and reward: when they obey him they are praised and rewarded, when they disobey they are attacked and punished (Chucky even threatens to ‘punish’ them in the finale of Season 2). There is also clear favouritism, the child that seems similar to Chucky is praised and the one that favours peace is shunned (this could be attributed to Chucky’s underlying narcissism). One of this is when Chucky thinks that Glen is a murderer like him and calls him a ‘natural’, yet when Glen comes at him with an axe he doesn’t hesitate to attack because Glen is disobeying him (interestingly though, when Glen kills him, he is immensely proud because Glen is exhibiting behaviour that Chucky considers desirable in his offspring). Another example of this is when Chucky refers to Glenda as his ‘favourite kiddo’ when it appears as if they are going to free him: the child that is the most helpful or like him at a certain moment will become his new favourite.

The relationship in which the parental abuse is most apparent is the relationship between Chucky and Jake Wheeler. Following the death of his father, Chucky almost tries to take a parental role in Jake’s life, trying to mould the teenager into a younger version of himself and even snooping through his things. Even though Jake purchasing Chucky was by chance and Chucky needs any innocent person to kill in order to raise his army, I personally believe that Chucky’s narcissistic tendencies once again come into play and he begins to see Jake as a younger version of himself (this is supported by the fact that teenage Chucky looks slightly like Jake). There is yet another endless cycle of punishment and reward, when Jake agrees to kill he is rewarded with a pleasant conversation in which Chucky gives him advice and tells him about his childhood, but when he disobeys Chucky, (it is heavily implied that) he gets beaten. Despite apologising and claiming it will never happen again, Chucky attacks Jake in the finale of Season 1 and throughout Season 2. Another example of Chucky manipulating Jake to try and endear himself to the teenager is that he claims he is (at least) an ally to the LGBTQ+ community by mentioning his gender fluid children Glen and Glenda and insisting that he is not ‘a monster’. This too is proven false when he mockingly says to Jake ‘that is so gay’ in the finale, causing the boy to retaliate. 

In conclusion, the Chucky franchise could very well be an allegory for parental abuse and manipulation, explored through Chucky’s relationships with the various children and teenagers he encounters. The violence that began unchecked in Chucky’s youth developed into murder and a ruthless desire to control anybody even remotely under his care, mentally and physically traumatising people such as Andy Barclay, Nica Pierce, Jake Wheeler and Glen and Glenda.

[marril96]

Chucky 2.08 | Chucky Actually

[rroaddkill]

I support women's wrongs until its Dr. Mixter. Literally what was with her

[gillipopmoji]

more honorifics :3

[mixter-crown]

ITS FINALLY DONE ! BELLSTRUM!

The meme has died out but my adoration for this silly married couple is thriving as ever !! Thank you for ur patience if you've been waiting for it from the colentine version 🙇🙇🙇

>> Part One (unmasked colentine version) (1/3)

>> Part Two (masked colentine version) (2/3)

>> THIS POST is Part Three (3/3)

[lexyscross]

Do I make a playlist for Chucky to spread my "Chucky loves his parents and is in denial about his trauma" propaganda? Yes or yes? 🤔

[megamixter]

Got a couple of dreamies on Neopets this month! To celebrate, here's a pic of Swefton carrying her brother Skriphy. I think he's having a good time, even if he looks a little blue.

[Image ID: A faerie ixi from Neopets is flying in the sky while carrying a grey ixi by the arms. The faerie ixi is looking down and smiling at the grey one, and she is varying shades of lavender with blue accents. The grey ixi is looking down with a depressed expression. He is varying shades of grey and has brown overalls on. The background is a blue sky full of purple and pink clouds. /End ID]

[barclaysangel]

Murder Cousins AU - Jake and Junior have a strong bond of loyalty. They would never turn on each other or snitch on each other. However, Chucky, Tiffany, and Dr. Mixter frequently attempt to create conflicts between them during their interactions

They try quite often but fail each time. Jake and Junior trust each other that much

[silvershewolf247]

The Morning After

Kent Academy students had a tradition on the night of their graduation. Before they were off to whatever shitty apartment, broken family, or military career awaited them. All the freshly adult students would get together, and get royally plastered. On Andy’s last day, he swallowed a handful of codeine stolen from the nurses' office and washed it down with several cups of whatever shit an 18-year-old thought to mix from the faculty's liquor cabinet. The next morning he donned some sunglasses, swallowed a handful of Tylenol, and took a long bus ride to the first of a few military bases.

All this to say, Andy’s had his fair share of bad hangovers. So to call this his worst hangover, says a lot. Andy tried to position himself. He was clearly in a bedroom, there was an empty bottle of liquor in the trash. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think he was in his twenties again. He used his hands to comb his hair out of his face. It was a cruel reminder of exactly where he was. No longer matted, but still too fucking long. 

Andy tried to retrace how he got here. He remembered stabbing Chucky and decking Mixter. He almost smiled at that. He remembered running through the woods, jumping in front of the car, the nice lady, the hospital, the douchebag cop, and then… Andy stopped breathing. He sat up slowly. Then he noticed a woman’s coat on the floor. He stood up, and the floorboards creaked. And he heard something halfway between a hiss and a breath and followed the noise. 

On the floor, on the opposite side of the bed, was the body. A young woman, probably no older than thirty. She let out an airy groan. For anyone else, this might have given them hope. But Andy knew better. Her eyes were open and her pupils dilated. Her skin was pale, but her palms and fingers were blue. He knew what had happened. He nearly collapsed, as he shambled out of the bedroom.

There was a burning weight in his chest and acid in his throat. Andy didn’t have to look around for long, because the bathroom door had been left open. He walked over, fell to his knees, and expelled all the food he didn’t remember eating. 

When he finished emptying out all the food and acid in his stomach, he fell back, collapsing against the tub. He rested his head against the cold porcelain and took slow, deep, burning breaths. They didn’t help at all. Then he heard the door open, and heels on the wood. 

“Charlie!” Mixter shouted into the house. “I wasn’t sure how big the mess would be, so I brought garbage bags, paper towels, baking soda, vinegar, peroxide, and oregano!” she finished. She walked towards the bedroom but stopped in her tracks when she saw the bathroom door open and the light on. She stood in the bathroom doorway, looming over Andy’s collapsed form. 

“Charlie,” she sighed, walking over to him. She sat down on the tub next to him, combed his hair out of his face, and pulled it back with her fingers

“I did try to warn you that all your binge eating and drinking would make you sick. Your new body has limits, and you’ll have to respect that,” she continued, Andy realized she was talking to him. If he hadn’t emptied his stomach, he would have thrown up again. Instead, it was all he could do to pull away from her, jerk away, readjust himself against the sink, and glare.

“How long?” Andy asked.

“You’ll have to be more specific, how long is it going to take to clean this up or how long until you stop feeling like shit?” Mixter responded before taking in Andy’s expression. 

“You’re not talking about that are you, Charlie?” she asked. Andy was silent but the revulsion was clear on his face. 

“You’re not Charlie at all are you?” she continued, Andy kept staring at her. She was quiet for a minute, she looked away from him and tapped her fingers against the tub. 

“You woke up quicker than expected, Mr. Barclay,” she finished, glancing back at him. 

Not quick enough, Andy realized when he looked at her. The dark bruise on her cheek from where he hit her was almost entirely gone. Mixter was an old lady; he couldn’t imagine it would have healed quickly. 

“How long?” he repeated. 

“Again, you need to be more specific. It’s been a couple of months since you drove off the cliff, and about six weeks since the hospital,” she responded. 

Horror washed over Andy. Six weeks. There was so much Chucky could have done in six weeks. Too much.  

“How many?” Andy choked out.

“Would it kill you to ask the entire question?” Mixter responded. Andy took a deep breath and braced himself. 

“How many people has he killed?” Andy asked, a frustrated defeat in his voice. 

“Oh,” she responded with mocking clarity. She shrugged, “I have no idea; I only know about the ones I helped him with.” When she finished, she turned around and moved to the tub's edge to lean against the wall. Her back cracked and she let out a sigh of relief. 

Andy struggled to his feet, using the sink to pull himself up. He looked down at her, glaring. He took a deep breath and tried to muster all the confidence and rage he could, 

“And how many was that?” he asked. Mixter rolled her eyes. 

“Eh, three or four, one of them might have just been a hookup,” she responded. Andy nearly collapsed to the floor hearing that. Leaning heavily on the sink, he repositioned himself in front of it. With shaking hands, he turned on the faucet. And frantically cleaned his face and hands. 

He dried off and found himself staring into the sink, trying to avoid looking in the mirror. He gripped the sides so tightly Mixter thought it might chip under his fingers. 

The room was silent for a minute. Then another. Andy couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. But he felt a familiar weight on his hip. And he did what he always did when he was terrified. Mixter hardly reacted to the gun pointed at her,

“Someone’s eager to add another body to the count,” she said. Andy pulled the gun back. 

“You should give yourself a refractory period, I’ve heard it helps keep the murders fresh,” she continued

Andy looked down at the gun in his hand for a minute. Then before he had a chance to second-guess himself. He pushed it to his temple and fired. 

“Fuck!”  Chucky exclaimed, pulling the gun away from his head. The shot went into the ceiling.

“Didn’t think he’d go that dark so quickly,” he said, as he put the gun back into its holster.