Chapter Text
Junior Wheeler was dying.
That much he knew. He could feel it. The blood leaking from his chest, the way his fingertips began to feel numb. Junior couldn’t move and wasn’t sure if he even wanted to.
All he knew was that he was dying.
Just like that.
He had to admit, a part of him felt relieved.
It would all be over. He’d get to see his mom again, hopefully. He won’t have anymore pressure. He’d just be dead Junior Wheeler, the shitty son and even shittier cousin.
Maybe Jake would put that on his tombstone.
It’s what he’d deserve after all.
But at the same time…Junior was scared.
He was scared of dying. He was just fourteen. Fourteen and went through so much. He fought and killed but he didn’t want to go out like this.
He wasn’t quite ready to die.
But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Lexy was holding him, crying. He wished she wasn’t crying, it made him really sad.
Besides, Junior didn’t deserve her tears. She should save them for someone that truly matters and is important.
He was a bully, a killer. He didn’t deserve sympathy or remorse.
He deserved only the worst. And if that was death…then maybe that’s what he truly did deserve.
As Lexy cried over him, her words becoming drowned out in his ears, he felt himself start to drift off into darkness.
Junior wasn’t quite sure when he began waking up. But it wasn’t exactly waking up. Or how long it had been. He could feel his body still shutting down, having a hard time breathing, and hearing voices. But this wasn’t Lexy’s voice, there were multiple ones, ones he didn’t recognize.
Who was speaking?
Junior wanted to sleep again, to fade from existence but he forced himself to hold on. To try and listen before completely giving up.
The doctor was speaking to someone, about a patient that didn’t have much time left. Too much damage to his lung. All they could do was make him comfortable until he passes.
It took a full moment for Junior to realize that they were talking about him.
Fuck.
He really was going to die.
Killed by a serial killer ginger doll.
Well, at least Junior went down swinging. To protect Lexy.
It was worth it.
He heard someone respond, almost tearfully. Now, that voice was familiar. High-pitched and sickly sweet. His brain moved slowly until he processed where he knew that voice.
Tiffany.
The wife of Chucky.
Or…ex-wife? After she decapitated him. He…wasn’t quite sure. He wasn’t sure about anything anymore. The light in him was dimming out, slowly but surely.
While everything was confusing, Junior couldn’t help but to wonder why Tiffany was there. They barely knew each other, just for a day at least.
So why was she here?
He tried to open his eyes but he just felt so tired. So exhausted. They just wanted the fucking grim reaper to get over here and take him already.
The doctor must’ve left because then Junior heard the sound of heels clacking against the linoleum floor, approaching him. He gathered all the strength he could muster to open his eyes, fluttering a few times before they finally did.
Through blurry eyesight, he could see Tiffany’s blonde hair and sparkling red dress that nearly had him closing his eyes again. But then Junior saw something else in her arms. Something that made his chest suddenly hurt again.
Chucky.
Junior’s labored breathing began to pick up, starting to hyperventilate the most he could through his failing lungs, eyes now wide.
Fuck, she was here to finish the job, wasn’t she? Have Chucky kill him right there by shoving his tiny plastic fingers into barely stitched up wound on his chest in the hospital room.
Jesus, why couldn’t they just left him die in peace?!
“Shhh, sweetface, just breathe…” Tiffany cooed and brushed aside Junior’s sweaty hair from his forehead, flinching flinched slightly from the motion before relaxing just a bit.
“It’s okay. It’s just me. And this guy,” the blonde woman lifted the doll slightly in her other arm, “is empty. No Chucky, nothing inside him, just a doll.”
Junior stared at the Good Guy doll, trying to see if that was true. If the doll would suddenly blink and come to alive, leap on top of him. But nothing happened.
It really was just a doll.
He didn’t speak for a moment, struggling to even find the right words. “I…I’m dying…aren’t I?“ Junior asked, his raspy voice barely above a whisper.
Tiffany’s eyes looked sad, as if she didn’t want this kid she barely knew to die, before she nodded. “You are. But you don’t have to be.”
Junior squinted slightly, actually confused as to what she meant. She put the doll on top of his bed and he desperately wanted to move away but he could barely even feel his body anymore.
“Chucky put his soul into Good Guy dolls. Many of them. He used voodoo for it…and so could you.” Tiffany said with a big smile, as if this was the most brilliant plan she had ever announced.
It was the worst idea Junior had ever heard.
He didn’t want to be a doll. He didn’t want that! He just wanted to die!
…but did he?
Death was terrifying. Junior could feel his body starting to give up on him, his lungs struggling to help him breathe. As ready as he was to die and have everything before, he was so scared.
He wasn’t a man like Chucky said.
Lexy was right. He’s just a boy. A kid.
Why should a kid have to make such a huge decision like this?
“Tiff…I…I can’t…’m sorry…” Junior uttered, his eyes starting to close, possibly forever until she cupped his cold cheek in her warm hand.
“Yes you can. Your body is dying, but you can still transfer your soul into this doll. This wouldn’t be a permanent thing. You can possess whatever human you want afterwards. I’ll teach you the spell, all you need is all of your strength and energy.” Tiffany explained all of this with that sweet smile and maternal brown eyes.
Junior had seen this woman kill. She was psychotic, probably more than Chucky. But he had to admit, he felt almost at home with her. Something about her warm and motherly nature drew him to her.
And while he didn’t deserve this second chance…maybe, just maybe if this worked…he could take it and see what happens.
Junior swallowed a few times, feeling her sharp acrylic nails brushing against his cheek before he finally made his decision. “How…how do I do this?”
Tiffany grinned with glee like a child on Christmas morning, leaning forward to whisper in his ear the spell. She did this multiple times until Junior managed to memorize it, every part of his body wanting to give up and die already.
But not yet. He wanted one last shot. If this didn’t work out, then he’d let himself die.
“We don’t have much time, sweetface. You need to do it now.” Tiffany urged him afterwards, pressing the doll into his cold hands.
God, Junior just wanted to sleep. He was so tired and he just wanted rest. But he knew that if he fell asleep now, he’d never wake up.
He had to do this. He had to try.
So Junior began chanting. His body wanting to give up but he focused all his energy on the doll, practically glaring at it. It was like his killer was staring right back at him.
He felt all of his emotions. All his pain, his anger, his sorrow, his rage, all of it mixed up and used it to find the strength to continue chanting. Junior could hear thunder rumbling through the sky, like there was a storm coming. Maybe it was. Maybe he was imagining it. But he kept going.
His eyes felt like closing, the pain in his chest growing to the point where he felt like he was being stabbed again. He was dying now, he knew this. But he had to finish.
Finally, with one last burst of energy, Junior spoke the final chant. “Ade due damballa…give me the power I beg of you!”
Lightning struck, the sound practically deafening his ears.
And everything went black.