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anarchy-n-glitter · 11 hours

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The Good, The Bad, and...

Summary: Lucy and The Ghoul encounter a shadowy figure from his past while on their way to New Vegas. This stranger, nicknamed Red Eyes, is intent on collecting a bounty on The Ghoul as a means to settle a feud between the two after they were betrayed by him. Will Red Eyes succeed, or will they have a change of heart based on their complicated feelings toward the man? (Cooper Howard x OC/reader) Words: 2,941

A/N: I forgot to post chapter 1 of this on here sorry guys. Anyway this is low key a Star Wars AU because as a Cad Bane fan I simply could not help myself so this is technically kind of a follow up to this fic. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

From the Desert Comes a Stranger

“I’ve taken down so many of dese clones over da years…” Her father began in his heavily accented manner, sighing, and pushing his hat back with his pointer finger as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. The red of his irises were somehow muted by the red lenses of the goggles he wore, which made it hard to see the look in his eyes as it was. He quickly dropped to his knees and with a single swipe of his knife he removed something from the clone’s body. She couldn’t quite make out what it was before he pocketed it.

He turned around quickly, pointing his gloved finger up at her. She straightened up.

“Now, Ciella, what ya need to know is…” He handed her the bloodied knife, closing her fingers around the hilt and holding her smaller hand in his. It was one of the only times he made a tender gesture towards her other than the odd hug here and there.

“Once you figure out one da rest are easy.” She had to wonder what the point of all this was.

When they arrived on the site - an old, decrepit warehouse with a caved-in roof - her father was quick to corner the clone that now lay dying before them. He tried his best to grab the gun that was strapped to his leg, fumbling with it and managing to point it in her father’s general direction before he was gunned down. Two shots in the chest from the looks of it, shots that left the man (clone) heaving and wheezing on the floor with blank eyes, and she knew that’s what he wanted to happen. If he wanted to shoot the man in the head he would have. He was the fastest shot in the Wasteland, and it would stay that way for many years.

“Now, I want ya to take dat knife dere and,” He finally stood and moved her closer to the dying man. “Yer gonna have to cut his throat, unless ya want to hear him scream. I’m not against it but it’s best dat we keep him quiet. Don’t want any stragglers comin’ in and takin’ us by surprise.”

Ciella drew in a deep breath as she knelt down beside the man. His blank eyes suddenly held so much emotion, it was a look she’d seen in her own eyes a few times before. Mostly on dark nights in the Jewel as she listened to the way men spoke to her mother… and the way her father spoke to her at times. It was the look she saw in the mirror after she saw how her mama took care of those men - their purple, mangled faces contorted in pain and their eyes bloodshot staring up at her, and their hands clutched around their throats.

This man was in pain, and he was afraid of dying.

There was a large tattoo on the side of his face, around his eye. It was a symbol, most likely belonging to whatever faction he belonged to since escaping his vault. From what she overheard her dad discussing, Vault 66 seemed to be defunct, with the clones created within revolting and escaping into the Wasteland. He had been hunting down the clones for the last five years, among other things. She never quite understood why anyone would flee a vault to live on the surface.

Her father took the respirator off of his face, letting it hang below his chin. She felt more at ease at this, happy to hear his own, unmodified voice walking her through what she was about to do. Her heart was beating fast and felt like it had leapt into her throat. She glanced at the open ceiling and focused on the large, white moon that hung in the deep blue sky.

Perhaps the sky full of swirling stars would be enough to comfort her.

“When he’s dead, cut off da part of his face with da tattoo and hand it to da Tin-Man. Den we can go home.” He instructed. Ciella hesitated.

The clone looked at her, stared her down, silently begging her for mercy. He was just a clone, and he was wanted so he must have done something bad, right? She looked back at her dad, who had pushed his goggles up onto his forehead, revealing his bright red eyes staring back at her expectedly. Tufts of navy blue hair peeked out from under his hat and over his goggles and his lips were curved into a small smile.

He actually looked like a supportive father for the first time in his life.

Ciella made her decision at that moment, and the girl at only eight years old turned around and drove the knife into the clone’s throat. His eyes widened and met her gaze for a moment and she felt her heart drop. He groaned and wheezed, the blood gurgling in his throat as the crimson substance dribbled from the corners of his mouth. A sputtering cough had his blood spraying across her face and she wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not. She tried not to heave at the disgusting feeling.

On instinct, she pulled the knife from his throat and drove it back into his flesh. Over and over. A larger, warmer hand wrapped around her wrist and stopped her mid motion.

“Dere ya go.” Her father smiled wider as pride swelled in his chest. His baby would be a killer, just like he was. “After dis I’ll teach ya everyding I know.”

☠☠☠☠☠☠☠

The sun bore down unbearably upon the duo traveling along the Mojave Desert. It had been miles and miles of desert between the Griffith Observatory and the place the Ghoul was certain Lucy’s father was heading. The vaultie was starting to fall behind, clearly tired from the constant moving. It was hard to find shelter all the way out here, and unfortunately for her the Ghoul didn’t feel comfortable stopping out in the open.

They had traveled through a few settlements at that point, each one growing more and more decrepit and sparse. The people were quieter and hid away in their own corners of the small towns, eyeing the Ghoul and his traveling companion wearily. The whispers and glares of the different townsfolk hardly made for good hospitality, if anything it was that fact that drove him away from each place. Something was happening, someone said something, and he felt it was too risky to stop for a few nights in any of the settlements.

The last place they’d been to was a day’s walk away at this point, and the talk amongst the people in that saloon made him deeply uncomfortable. Then there was the body.

In the sandy dunes of the last settlement they had been to laid a man with sun kissed skin and snow white hair stained at the temples with red. The poor man had his brains blown out, by who… well, let’s just say he had a good idea of who it was. It was clear the job was done quickly, the man clearly didn’t see them coming, and the fact the man’s armor and other supplies went untouched raised even more alarm bells. He got them out of there quickly and quietly.

Unfortunately for Lucy, the Ghoul was one-track minded at the moment. His family was out there, he could feel it. There was a reason he kept going for over two hundred years, and he would not let those years of anguish be in vain.

He would kill anyone who tried to get between them.

“There’s gotta be somewhere we can stop, right?” Lucy sounded hoarse, tired. He wished he could answer her truthfully. He hadn’t traveled this far into the desert before, and the way the sun seemed to hang so high in the sky for so long made him question whether anyone ventured that far, let alone set up shop. He shrugged.

The dunes seemed to stretch on for miles and miles, with only a few rocky formations on the horizon. A few dried plants littered the ground here and there, somehow finding the strength to grow in such a harsh climate. It was a wonder anything was able to grow and flourish after the bombs. Maybe he should have sent the vaultie to ask for some sort of transport back at the saloon instead of being stubborn like he usually was.

“Maybe that person’s coming from a settlement down that way?” The Ghoul froze, feeling himself go numb.

Among the dancing heatwaves stood a dark-clad figure on the horizon.

They stood still, any discernible features hidden by a wide-brimmed hat and respirator over the figure’s mouth. The wind blew and kicked up dust and whipped the figure’s coat to the side, revealing the large holster against their hip. Their dark attire starkly contrasted with the bright blue sky and pale sand.

The words of the men in the saloon ran through his mind.

Someone’s lookin’ for a ghoul just like ya! There was a bounty put out not too long ago, I think it’s been taken offa the board. A lotta caps goin’ for that guy. He considered that a warning at the time.

Anyway, it looked like the guy who took the bounty was Red Eyes. He had the goggles an’ everything, but we all thought he was dead.

And Red Eyes was supposed to be dead. He died around five or six years ago.

The figure in front of him was a ghost.

Red Eyes stopped a good twenty feet in front of them, standing perfectly still. The wind shifted again and from beneath the wide-brimmed hat came a tuft of navy blue hair that blew in the breeze. The desert was all too quiet now, and it felt like something from one of his old movies. Red Eyes felt like an old western villain, dark and ominous, seemingly a force of nature. He worried the figure wasn’t only after him.

“Lucy, you should head back.” The Ghoul muttered, putting a hand out to stop her from moving any further. She stared at the figure for a moment, suddenly afraid because of the Ghoul’s reaction.

“It’s only one person.” She muttered. “Maybe they’re lost?” The Ghoul stayed silent. He would not repeat himself.

Her doe-like eyes flickered to him and she noticed the way his mouth was set in a seemingly permanent frown. His whole body looked stiff, like a cornered animal. She nodded, understanding finally, before turning on her heel to make a run for it.

The Ghoul watched as the stranger glanced in Lucy’s direction. Red Eyes observed her, seemingly studying her like an unbothered predator eyeing a nearby animal knowing it couldn’t do anything to stop it. He grit his teeth and took a few steps forward, spurs jangling with each stride.

This was not good.

“Now I know that fancy getup you got on is not yours.” He began through a false bravado, flashing teeth that used to be a pearly white. It was so easy for him to slip back into a role, something he had been doing this entire time. Yet, this time, he was given the chance to play the good guy. It felt unfamiliar somehow, after all, it had been several years since he’d done such a thing. He was almost grateful for this stranger’s theatrics. “Who might you be? Cause you sure as hell ain’t Red Eyes… he’s dead.”

He knew all too well who this was.

Red Eyes looked up, the red goggles reflecting the bright sun and making it impossible to see past their lenses. More of the stranger’s hair seemed to flow from behind them, long strands of navy waving in the wind like a flag. Their stance shifted from one of leisure to subtly looking like they would pounce. The stranger moved their coat away from their hip, revealing the large gun strapped to their form.

“I’d be careful where I was sticking my nose if I were you.” The heavily modulated voice called out. “Or lack thereof.”

The Ghoul bit his tongue. “I’m assuming that corpse we found back there was you, then? Certainly wasn’t the handiwork of any ol’ fiend.”

“Wasn’t much work.” Red Eyes spat quickly. “Was a clone. They're easy. Woulda gotten in my way.” Their accent, even through the voice changer, was thick. Louisiana, most likely from the New Orleans area.

“You’re here for me.” He didn’t feel the need to ask. He threaded his thumbs through the belt loops on his trousers, opting to seem more relaxed than he was. He knew Red Eyes would see right through his guise.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Their hand twitched beside their gun. He eyed them wearily.

“Well, I’m not goin’ willingly.” A low, rumbling chuckle sounded from the stranger.

“I never said I was gonna take ya in alive.” They answered, voice cold with an edge to it. He fought the urge to argue, to call their bluff, for doing so would be too risky.

Truthfully, Red Eyes had every reason to want him dead. It had been a few years, five to be exact, since they last saw each other. Five long years since he turned the fellow bounty hunter in for killing a crime lord. Five years since he left them for dead. This would be a fitting end for their little rivalry, even if it wasn’t always that way.

But he wouldn’t go down just yet. Not without a fight.

He had to find another way to fight them. A quick draw duel would mean a death sentence for him, unfortunately. Red Eyes was and still is the quickest draw in the Wasteland. He would have to throw them off somehow, say something to really disarm them.

He did the only thing he could think of, and instead of indulging in the stranger - instead of going for his gun - words that he never thought he would say slipped from his dry, cracked lips.

“Ciella, I’m sorry.”

Red Eyes froze. Their hand was still dangerously close to their gun’s grip. Over the wind, he vaguely heard the sharp, uneven intake of air from the figure. The breeze picked up again, blowing open the stranger’s coat to reveal the figure of a woman.

“It’s a bit late fer that, isn’t it, cher?” It most definitely was her. “I came ta finish the job. I shoulda known a coffin wouldn’t hold yer ass.”

Cooper held back a laugh. Ciella Bane was an ally at one point, and maybe even a friend, but the moment her picture was up on one of those boards he knew their partnership was over. Someone was offering a hefty reward for whoever could bring the bounty brat in, preferably alive.

That was his mistake. He knew he probably should have killed her while she was sleeping and taken the smaller reward for her corpse. Killing her like this would be a pain in the ass.

“You wanna take off that ridiculous getup and let me see you?” He taunted, much to Ciella’s dismay. He just had to hit her where it hurt, get her emotional and in her head so she missed when she inevitably shot at him. However, it had been a few years, he couldn’t be sure that trick would still work.

Though with dear ol’ daddy not around to give her more of his tips and tricks he doubted she would have improved much more than the last time they brawled.

Ciella scoffed. “The last thing you’ll see are these goggles. Everyone’s gotta know it was Red Eyes who took ya out, ghoul.” She spat, though there was a sadistic playfulness in her voice. Cooper rolled his eyes.

“I got places to be, girl.” Cooper countered with equal venom. He was getting antsy, and he felt she was wasting his time. “Let us through and…” He stopped.

What would he do? What could he do? What could he possibly offer her where she wouldn’t be on his trail while he and Lucy trekked the Wasteland on a wild goose chase? Ciella coming back from whatever corner of the world she ran off to after burying him alive was the last thing he wanted.

“Let us through and we can finish this some other time. I’ll tell you where I’ll be and you come find me.” He offered finally, feeling the weight of his words in his chest. He wouldn’t give up finding his family so she could have her petty revenge, but maybe one day, when everyone around him was gone and he knew his daughter was safe and could live a happy life, he would go to Ciella and let her put him out of his misery.

“We do this here and now.” The bounty hunter replied. “That head o’ yers is fetchin’ a pretty penny. Figured it was better I did it than some chem addicted fiend on the street.” Her words were purposefully inflammatory. She was doing the same thing he was.

She straightened up again, mimicking the stance of a cowboy in a western getting ready to draw, and Cooper knew what it meant. She wasn’t giving him a choice. They’d done this dance once before, and unfortunately for him it didn’t end well.

The Ghoul sighed and moved his coat from his holster, and he mirrored her stance. “This ain’t gonna go the way ya think it will, sweetheart.”

“I doubt that.” That same, robotic voice answered, yet he knew she was still all too human underneath.

#cooper howard x oc #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #star wars au #fallout fanfic #cooper howard #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x oc #fallout #cad bane mention!!!#so #cad bane #fallout tv series

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anarchy-n-glitter · 11 hours

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Bring the Pain

Summary: Daphne Napier used to date Charles Lee Ray when she lived in Chicago... or at least he told her they were dating. He taught her everything she knew, helped her become the person she is today, and she truly believed he loved her. Then he died. Alexis Quinn lives in Hackensack, New Jersey with her girlfriend Tess Monroe. (Chucky/Charles Lee Ray x OC/reader) Words: 4,480

A/N: I have finally finished chapter 1 of Daphne's fic thank u chucky season 3 <3333

Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ１

She was cleaning their apartment when she found it.

Alexis had a nice apartment. It was larger than most Jersey apartments, with nice hardwood floors and four bedrooms. It was on a higher floor of a very nice building, in an even nicer part of town that made her question why Alexis hung around people like her and her friends. The furniture inside was older and made of dark oak wood, with deep gem colors and a velvety texture, and in the center of the living room was a large rug made of white fur - she still wasn’t sure if it was real or not. The kitchen had marble counters and stainless steel appliances.

When she had been invited over for the first time a couple of months after meeting Alexis she tried not to show her shock and awe. After all, she never would have guessed Alexis was rich just by looking at her. The strawberry blonde woman often dressed like one of the local goths: all black with fishnets and touches of her favorite color, which was pink, and darker makeup. Alexis described herself as punk, though, and some outfits of hers fit that description, but the moment she saw where she lived she dismissed the idea of Alexis being anything other than a young woman rebelling against her rich parents.

That night, Alexis confessed that she had a crush on her, smiling bashfully yet hardly hiding that seductive look in her emerald eyes under the low light of her fireplace.

“I like you.” She said so casually as everyone around them chattered amongst themselves. There were probably twenty other people there that night, Alexis called it a small house party, and she secretly wished she went there alone. The music was blaring. Her dark eyes widened with shock as she leaned forward.

“What?” She choked into her red cup.

“I said I like you, Tess.” All the brunette could do was blink in shock. The admittedly intimidating woman smiled widely and dropped her head as she laughed, her strawberry bangs covering her eyes.

“You don’t do this often do you?” She chuckled. Tess’s face grew redder than a tomato as she stumbled over her words, trying to regain her composure and save her dignity. “Tess.” Alexis’s green eyes shone with amusement, like a cat that was playing with a mouse, but her tone was serious.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Her tactic seemed to work though, it got her into bed, and it was the start of their relationship.

Three years passed and now Alexis was out every night doing god-knows-what and she was stuck at home cleaning. Her mother would laugh at her, remarking that “she always knew Alexis was the man in the relationship” in her usual spiteful tone before lecturing Tess on how she was right and she needed a real man. Her mother never was too supportive of her or her relationships. Alexis was not the first woman she loved, and - while she was sure they’d be together forever - if it didn’t work out Alexis wouldn’t be the last either. Her mother never seemed to understand that.

Her mother’s opinions were incredibly outdated for the year 2021.

But part of her was growing resentful of her mother’s words, not just because she was not-so-vaguely homophobic, but because she was onto something. Tess stayed home all day and all night, not having to work because Alexis had it all covered somehow, and she cooked and cleaned and took care of everything around the apartment - Alexis’s apartment - while her girlfriend was out all day, sometimes all night too. She never signed up to be a housewife, and while staying home all day was nice at first, she had things she wanted to do and achieve eventually. Not to mention the fact that their relationship was supposed to be built on equality.

Make sure you get under the couches, you always forget under the couches. Her mother’s voice echoed in her head even when she didn’t want it there. Even though she hated to admit it, the disembodied voice of her mom was right, she did almost forget to clean under the couches. She started with the deep magenta one against the wall closest to the entrance, moving it onto the white rug before pausing.

There were magazines and newspapers underneath.

Each one was clearly old, with the edges of their pages bent and creased and frayed. They looked well read, with creases on the spine of each magazine. The images were faded, but she recognized the face on each one. Emerald eyes stared back at her, and the usual mess of curly hair was pulled into two low ponytails, though it was a much darker auburn color than the rosy blonde she usually sported. On her lips was a dark red lipstick, and around her neck was the same choker with the magenta gem in the center…

The title of each magazine was relatively the same, something along the lines of “I secretly dated a serial killer.” There were a few mentions of a man, Charles Lee Ray, a familiar name to anyone who lived in Jersey or Chicago. She looked on with horror but also skepticism. They all looked like tabloid trash, and she was sure her girlfriend couldn’t have been in a magazine from over 30 years ago. She became more concerned about why her girlfriend would photoshop herself into a magazine claiming to be a dead serial killer’s mistress…. but the magazines felt old… too old to be faked.

She pushed a strand of thin, brown hair back behind her ear as her hand shook.

She placed the magazines to the side and looked at the newspaper. In big, bold letters it read:

“ACCOMPLICE TO LAKESHORE STRANGLER ACQUITTED”

with a picture of the same woman walking down the steps to a courthouse. On either side of her were her lawyers and a security guard, and she was dressed like Marissa Tomei in My Cousin Vinny, with a sleek black dress and a baggy leather jacket. She was hiding her face from the people who waited outside, flanking either side of the barricaded steps, flashing cameras and hurling words at her from the looks of it. She seemed to be the same age as Alexis.

The article inside mentioned a slew of things she’d never read up on before. She was familiar with Charles Lee Ray, and the events in 1988, but she’d never heard of Daphne Napier. She supposed if she was acquitted most people didn’t find it interesting enough to talk about her in podcasts or discussions online, and she wasn’t really into true crime so she wouldn’t have known either way, but something about this new story kept her wanting to read more. The article said she claimed she had been in a relationship with his other accomplice, Eddie Caputo when she was only seventeen, and when she realized what exactly her boyfriend was doing she tried to get away. She then claimed the two killers held her hostage for four years, and while she said she never did any of the killing herself, she admitted to being forced to help them get away and clean up their messes.

The images made her sick to her stomach. They were uncannily similar to Alexis in every way, and for some strange reason, deep down she feared the woman she’d come to love was not who she claimed to be. She couldn’t bear to look inside the magazines, wondering just what Daphne might have said to those publishers as opposed to a judge and jury. She supposed it wasn’t good.

The sound of keys jingling in the hallway and the door unlocking startled her.

“Tess? You up? I’m home!” Alexis’s (or could she even call her that anymore?) thick brooklyn accent sounded from the hallway. Tess froze, still holding the newspaper in her hands as large, black boots with pink laces came into view. Her gaze traveled up the length of her fishnet-clad legs and the rest of her body, where she met that same emerald stare from the cover of the magazine. Tess’s eyes filled with tears as Alexis tilted her head like a curious dog.

“What’cha got there?” She asked with no hint of malice or even nervousness. Tess looked down slowly at the paper, then back at her girlfriend. She had no idea why she felt so frightened. She opened her mouth to speak and found it hard to put the words together. At worst, her girlfriend is somehow much older than she looks and claims to be, with a different name and a past filled with serial killers. At best she’s just a true crime nut who has the hots for Charles Lee Ray. She honestly hoped it was the second option, that was much easier to deal with.

Her mouth was dry. “I don’t know what this is” was all she could muster. Alexis took another step forward, looking over Tess’s shoulder with that same look of innocent curiosity. She furrowed her brow.

“That’s me.” She stated simply, as if the very idea that a picture of a woman 30 years ago was actually her wasn’t earth shattering for Tess. The brunette let out a small whine.

“What?” Emerald eyes met her brown ones. Alexis smiled again.

“That’s me. Daphne Napier is me.” She doubled down in a completely serious tone, pointing to the newspaper and magazines. She must have lost it, Tess thought, or maybe I have if I’m starting to believe her.

“Daphne Napier was twenty one when this article was published. You’re almost twenty five.” But you haven’t aged a day since we met. Alexis, or Daphne, smiled to herself, the look of innocence gone. Her smile seemed malicious and bitter. She put her hands on her hips and began to pace the foyer.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” The way the cherry blonde laughed sent shivers down Tess’s spine. “Look, Tess, there’s a lot that you don’t know about me, there’s a lot I haven’t told you.” She stopped and gestured between the two of them.

“I thought we had something special.” She sounded heartbroken. Tess stood, grabbing Alexis’s (Daphne’s) hands in hers.

“We do!” Tess exclaimed, bringing Alexis’s (Daphne’s) cold fingers to her lips. “We do.” She reassured her, whispering against her flesh. “I just don’t understand.” There was a change in her girlfriend’s eyes, something more sinister replacing the sorrow.

“I really liked you too, I was hoping we could keep doing this for a few more years.” She was laughing but hardly smiling. There was something deep down that told Tess to run - to get out of there before she got hurt. But Alexis would never hurt her… right?

This wasn’t Alexis though, and Tess could never be sure Alexis ever existed. This was Daphne Napier, a woman who was most likely a monster in her own right.

“We can.” She ignored the warning signs, that feeling deep inside, to appease the woman she’d come to love. She hoped there was some truth to the Alexis persona, and she hoped there was something to save here. “I’ll forget I saw it, I promise. Your name is Alexis Quinn.” Tess muttered. She wasn’t sure if she was saying to appease the erratic woman in front of her or if she was trying to convince herself.

Tess could feel her heartbeat in her throat as her stomach turned uneasily. She couldn’t hold Alexis’s emerald gaze any longer. Who are you, Alexis? She thought to herself uneasily. Who am I? What are we doing here?

Her name is Alexis Quinn. Her name is Alexis Quinn. Her name is…

“I’m sorry.” Tess could barely react before something was smashed against her head, and she fell to the floor. Daphne stood over her, watching silently to make sure her (soon to be ex) girlfriend was truly knocked out. She glanced at the old, iron doorstep in her hand and sighed as she dropped it. It collided with the wood floor with a loud THUD!

Blood began to pour from the large gash in the back of the brunette’s head, like the crimson halo of a fallen angel. Daphne sneered at the girl, Fallen’s right, don’t know about any angel though. She knelt down and felt at Tess’s pale-growing-paler-by-the-minute neck, cold fingers searching for a pulse. Weakly, the brunette reached out for her wrist, for comfort from the person she once loved so dearly. Daphne pulled her hand back quickly.

“I hate it when they don’t see it’s over.” She huffed, sadistically mimicking the cadence of a valley girl in a high school drama. “The best exes know when it’s time to move on.” She whispered, her voice shifting to something more soothing as she tauntingly ran her fingers through Tess’s thin strands. Her other hand reached for the doorstep beside her.

“Take a few notes from the other guys and drop dead already.” The iron struck the side of her head quickly and without mercy - the cracking sound her skull made would be sickening to anyone less than a pro, but luckily Daphne was just that.

“Alright, Damballa, this one’s a little early so you gotta work with me, here.” She muttered as she gripped the pink gem on her choker. She swore it glowed ever so softly whenever she did this, though she could never prove it. With one hand raised to the sky, she spoke with conviction.

“Ade due Damballa…”

♛♛♛♛♛♛♛♛

Chicago, Illinois

1988

It was true. Daphne felt sick to her stomach.

Her emerald eyes were locked on the man in front of her; disheveled with stubble along his chin, tousled dark hair, and a brown coat wrapped around his wiry form. The black fingerless gloves on his hands almost completed the look. He looked like a bum.

“You left him there?” Her voice was weak and shaking, hiding the anger and sorrow that lurked beneath her porcelain skin. Dark eyes looked her up and down, which only served to fuel the fire that raged in her gut. She wanted to drive the screwdriver that laid on the dirty, broken counter into his eye. The hideout was a mess, and she assumed it was because neither her nor Tiffany had been around in some time. From what she heard, Chuck seemed to have found someone new.

She would be lying if she said it didn’t hurt.

“I haven’t seen you in god-knows-how-long and this is the first thing you wanna talk about? Anyway, what’s that around your neck? You get into gaudy jewelry lately?” Was all Eddie could muster. Daphne glared at him as she clutched the pink gem on the golden necklace she had bought from some lady. The gem was valuable, the necklace itself… not so much. She would have to make something more suited to her style.

Everything else was the truth, though, he hadn’t seen Daphne since she stopped seeing Chucky. Part of him thought she was dead - thought Tiffany had gotten to her or maybe Charles got bored before…

Either way, Daphne stood before him, dark lines of mascara running down her tear soaked cheeks with smeared lipstick upon her perfect, plump lips. Her dark apparel seemed appropriate - he guessed she saw the news, though she always dressed like that. It was part of the reason Tiff stopped dressing like an uptown brat. Daph’s auburn hair was as fiery as the day she left. Winter fire…

Fire was all she was as she seethed in place, clenching her fists. Large, black boots stomped on the ground, taking Eddie out of his thoughts.

“No. No, you are not changing the subject. You left him there!” She screeched. She was so angry she could tear him apart with her bare hands. She fought the urge to wrap perfectly manicured fingers around his thin neck. “You have - no, had - one job! One fucking job, Eddie!”

“The cops were closing in on us, Daph.” He began, taking that same patronizing tone he used to use when they argued when they were dating. It only made her angrier. Made her heart ache more.��

“Oh wait, I forgot, you only care about him, right?” That was the last straw. Her fist pounded on his chest.

“He was our friend you fucking asshole!”

Eddie grabbed her wrists, pulling her even closer. Daphne felt like she could collapse then and there. Her legs felt like jelly, her head heavy and hazy as she tried to focus through the barrage of tears that flooded her eyes. She had never felt so many emotions at once before… it was terrible and smothering. “He was a bit more than a friend to you, though. Isn’t that right, Daph?” She pushed herself away from him and stumbled backwards before collapsing to the ground, heaving.

All she could do was wail, feeling the rawness in her throat and the heaviness in her chest. Every move she made reminded her she was still here, still breathing, still alive.

She was alive, unlike Chucky, and that was what hurt the most. She thought the worst thing he did to her was leave her… she had a whole other thing coming.

“Shut the fuck up.” She muttered through the tears, wiping lamely at her cheeks.

“Tiff put an end to that one, didn’t she?” She bit her tongue at that one, glaring up at the cowardly man in front of her through blazing bangs.

“I didn’t know about that! He insisted they weren’t together anymore, he said she was crazy!”

“He was only half lying, then. What a good guy!” Eddie spouted sarcastically. Daphne rolled her eyes.

“What we had doesn’t erase the fact that I still care…” She trailed off, biting back the tightness in her throat and tears that swelled in her eyes as she realized her mistake. “Cared about him.” She choked.

“I cared about you, Daph.” Eddie crouched down beside her. Daphne scoffed and crossed her arms, scooting away from him ever so slightly as she fought the urge to laugh bitterly in his face. “No, really, I did. I mean, Charles had a point, dating you when I did was bad news but he was only saying that cause he wanted you for himself. I thought you were beautiful, intelligent and so wise beyond your years.”

“C’mon, Eddie, we both know that’s bullshit.” She sniffled, rubbing her slick nose with the sleeve of her magenta cardigan. He knew she was referring to his accusation.

“Is it? He tells me to dump you, and I send you away cause of it. You turn nineteen, start coming back around, and suddenly he’s all over you.” He would be lying if he said he wasn’t still a little bitter.

“I was almost twenty.” Daphne exclaimed with conviction, ever the naive teen he met all those years ago. He rolled his eyes at her. “I didn’t just turn nineteen when I got together with Chuck. Anyway, it’s not like you’re much better.” She got to her feet, towering over the gaunt man in her platform boots.

“Don’t try to take the moral high ground when you dated a goddamn seventeen year old!” She continued, rubbing in the little fact Eddie conveniently left out of his manipulation. Daphne was sixteen when she met Eddie, and she was indeed seventeen when they decided to make things official.

She thought she was so cool back then. Now she knows what happened.

“Jesus…” Eddie muttered as he stood.

“At least Chuck had the decency to know that was fucked up! He respected me.” Daphne crossed her arms and looked away, her eyes focusing on the screwdriver again, if only for a moment. She thought of Chucky in that moment - thought of the way his sky colored eyes seemed to soften at the sight of her, the way he would smile at her and guide her hand while he taught her to slit someone’s throat, the way he corrupted her in the sweetest and most sinful ways and the way he whispered loving words in her ear, holding her closer and closer until…

“He loved me.” She stated in a voice no louder than a whisper, and in her heart she knew it was true.

“You’re fucking delusional.” Eddie spat, throwing his hands up in frustration as he pushed past her. “You sound like Tiff.”

That was the last straw.

Daphne was quick to grab the screwdriver from the counter and plunge it into Eddie’s open palm, ripping through the cheap cotton blend and tearing through his flesh. He pulled away from her grip, her hand still firmly wrapped around the tool as she withdrew it, blood dripping off the rusted metal and onto the dusty floors. Eddie cradled the wounded hand close to his chest, his dark eyes wide and focused on her as he monitored her closely, making sure she wouldn’t drive the rusty tool into his neck next.

“Don’t you ever compare me to her! I’m my own person, Eddie!” Daphne screamed before turning around. She felt the anger bubbling in her chest again, the red that blinded her vision. She could kill him right then and there, and she felt she would be justified.

After all, he did kill her best friend.

(Her best friend who hadn’t spoken to her in a year. Her best friend who basically pumped and dumped the moment things got too complicated for him, regardless of how she felt.)

“I’m not some bumbling, insecure psycho idiot who tries to be someone else when my man loses interest! I at least know when to take the hint and walk away!” Spoken like someone who wasn’t completely and utterly insecure - no, not at all, she thought to herself. Daphne’s feelings toward Tiffany were complicated. She did feel bad about what she inadvertently did to her, yet part of her was still angry at the woman. After all, had she not threatened to kill Daphne, her and Chucky would still be together.

Would being the other woman be enough for her, though? Would she truly be happy with the small stops and little visits that resulted in sex and not much else?

She paced around the kitchen like a caged tiger - unpredictable and dangerous, as usual. Eddie missed when Daph wasn’t so comfortable with killing and maiming.

In many ways Chucky changed her for the worse.

A sudden calmness came over her eyes, practically glazing them over as a smirk made its way to her smudged lips. She dropped the screwdriver.

“Hope you got your tetanus shot, babe, you’re probably gonna need it.” She began as she turned on her heel, leaving Eddie trembling in the corner to watch her slink out the front door.

Along the way, Daphne seemed to miss a little boy walking down the street alone, hugging his Good Guy doll close to his chest.

♛♛♛♛♛♛♛♛

Hackensack, New Jersey

2023

Daphne was tired. Things were starting to get a bit desperate now that it had been two whole years since she killed Tess.

A soul can only last as long as the amount of time she spends sweetening them up. Unfortunately for her, she was beginning to run out of time with no one new lined up to take Tess’s place. Sure, a one night stand here and there could give her a few more days, but the amount of people she would have to sleep with in order to stay young for another year while she lines up the next poor sucker would be too damn many.

The amulet of eternal life was complicated like that - it needed a soul to sustain a soul.

God, it made her sound like a vampire.

Spiritual vampire, she used to muse cheerfully to herself as she would consider taking another life for her own. The souls would keep her young forever, or at least that’s what she thought. It took only a few more wrinkles near her eyes for her to figure out she needed a connection with the souls the amulet collected.

Now she was a fucking black widow.

She was grateful for a few of her exes, though, like the older rich man Boris. He’s the reason she didn’t have to work anymore, and the reason she was living in the apartment she was. Once she got rid of his brats, and sweet talked him into putting her into the will, she killed him. Best three years of her life, though. The gowns and gifts were to die for!

But Tess was different.

Daphne hadn’t felt so alive in a long time. In a lot of ways, Tess seemed to fill the hole Chucky had left over thirty years prior. She was wonderful and kept her on her toes, even if it wasn’t in the usual exciting way Chucky used to. She managed to make Daphne laugh, made her appreciate life again…

And she supposed that was why she struggled to find a new victim. No one was Tess… or Chucky for that matter.

Her apartment was dark and empty, with no one around to liven the place up. Daphne was out all day and night searching for someone… someone to love, someone to hold, someone to consume into her own being when the time was right.

God I hate dating! She thought frustratedly as she slid down the surface of her front door.

Then, in the darkness, she heard something drop. It sounded like one of her books, but she couldn’t be sure. She pressed her lips into a thin line and straightened up, feeling irritation and anger in her core. Oh, whoever decided to try and rob me tonight is in for a bad fucking time. She thought bitterly. To her right was the iron doorstep, the same one she used to kill Tess, and though its metal handle burned her skin with the thought of what she did with it, she still crouched down to collect it.

Its weight reminded her of her sins, but it excited her all the same.

Daphne cautiously moved into the living room, where the blaze of a small fire illuminated the area and she saw the silhouette of what looked like a child sitting in her armchair. Confused as to how she missed the light from the front door and why a child would even be in her apartment, she wavered in her stance, lowering the iron.

The tableside lamp clicked on, and before her sat an aging Good Guy doll.

Red hair tousled and ragged, with smile lines around his thin lips and bags under sky blue eyes that used to stare at her lovingly, Daphne knew exactly who this was.

“Hiya doll.” Chucky greeted in his usual raspy, sarcastic tone. “It’s been a while.”

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