Chucky and Tiff: The Final Chapter

Note: To those of you who have seen Curse of Chucky, I started this fanfic long before that movie and I had the end of this fic in mind before I even saw the movie. I did not change my originally planned ending to match the canon of the movie. I chose to keep the ending I had planned and I hope you like it.

Tiffany drove down the familiar suburban street, a quick search of the phonebook told her that her father still lived in the home they had shared with her mother and sister. It seemed so long ago that she was pretty much a wolf in sheep's clothing. And she had met Chucky. Her love, now deceased because of the bastard, she blamed Eddie too.

He was supposed to be waiting for him. He was supposed to make sure Chucky was safe. She would find Eddie and make him pay. But, for now she would make her bastard father pay. It was dark, all the lights were out in the house and, the car was not in the driveway. She knew he would be back though. She walked up the paved driveway as old memories flooded her mind.

She shook her head, clearing the thoughts and thinking only of Chucky and getting revenge for him. The spare key was in its usual hiding spot under a flower pot. Her mother's flower pot. She unlocked the door and stepped in, cautiously. Her black stiletto's clacked on the hardwood floor of the foyer. Flipping the light switch, Tiffany was momentarily taken aback.

The white carpeting that her mother had loved so much was gone, well her mother's bleeding corpse had laid upstairs on the carpet so, she knew her father would have replaced it. The new carpet was beige, in fact the whole place looked like it had been redone. In beige. Many different shades of beige. It made her sick.

She turned and on one of the walls of the living room were new photos. Apparently her father had had no problem forgetting about her and his first family. And then he had to go and get Chucky killed. And now he was going to die. The photos resembled the ones her and her mother had forced Tiffany and Jessica into taking every once in a while.

The woman in the picture looked a lot younger than he was. He looked older, and greyer. His new wife looked like she belonged in Playboy, not as a suburban housewife. The two brats were boys, they looked about six and seven. And too much like her father. Tiffany suppressed a gag. Her father really made her sick. She sat on the beige leather couch and crossed her legs, resting her feet on the expensive looking coffee table.

She sharpened her black painted nails using the hunting knife she had gotten from packing up Chucky's and her apartment. Soon, the sounds of a car pulling up in the driveway alerted her to the presence of her father and possibly his new family.

A few moments later, the door opened and in ran the two brats. They went straight upstairs and never even noticed her. A second later, her father's wife stepped in, and right behind her..Bradley. Tiffany's father.

The blonde noticed her first, she gave Tiffany an annoyed look before speaking. "Who the fuck are you? And what the fuck are you doing in my house?" she said, snobbishly.

Bradley looked at her and blinked several times, looking as if he couldn't believe his eyes. "Tiffany?" he said, in shock. She almost wanted to hug him. Almost. Her rage at him for getting Chucky killed and then replacing her family with a new one stopped that feeling before it had a chance to fully manifest itself in her desires.

"Bradley, who is that?" his wife asked, looking at Tiffany like she was dirt.

"Blythe, this is Tiffany. My first born. Oh God, Tiffany…I thought you were dead," Bradley said, walking over to her quickly. Tiffany still stood silent, not reacting to the genuine happiness in his eyes. She wouldn't let him get to her.

So did I. I hope you're not assuming that we're going to let you stay in this house," Blythe said, rudely. That made Tiffany angry, and Bradley looked at her in shock. Still, he didn't defend Tiffany and that hurt even more.

"Who do you think you are? You may be my father's wife but, this will never be your house! This was Bradley and Elaine's house! This is my house. So, shut your slut face," Tiffany growled, balling her hands into fists. She was so going to teach this slut a lesson, just like she taught that other slut, eight years ago.

"Bradley! Are you going to let this little trailer trash slut talk to me like that?!" Blythe said, looking offended.

Tiffany looked at her father who said nothing, rendered speechless by the outbursts of his daughter and wife. She smirked and pulled a gun out of her bag. "What the hell are you doing?!" Blythe gasped, looking terrified.

"Sit down and shut up! Both of you," Tiffany ordered, coldly. They both sat down and looked up at her, fearfully. The fear in the room was nearly palpable and Tiffany was getting off on it. "Daddy, you got busy," Tiffany said, tsking and shaking her head.

"Tiffany, doll. What happened to you?" Bradley asked, looking scared like never before. He was more afraid now than he was when Tiffany had confronted him about his affair with his dead secretary.

"Well…to put it short, I strangled Jessica because she caught Chucky and I in a bit of a situation. I killed your whore because, she was screwing you and, Chucky killed mother because, she found out about Jessica and almost killed me. Also, up until last week, Chucky and I were living together. He's dead now but, I know you already knew that. I did a little digging. I know you recognized him and to the cops exactly where you spotted him. You and your family are going to pay for what you did to my love," Tiffany explained, all the while keeping the gun aimed at them.

"Tiffany please, let us go. I won't call the cops, I swear," Bradley pleaded.

"The hell we won't! You fucking psycho!" Blythe screamed, making the two brats run downstairs. They started crying as soon as they reached the living room.

"Welcome to the party boys, join mommy and daddy on the couch. Now," Tiffany crooned, in a deadly sweet tone. The boys sat next to their mother who held them close. "Don't even think about running. I'm an amazing shot," Tiffany added.

Tiffany stepped closer and pulled the oldest away from his mother. She wanted them to suffer the way she suffered, having Chucky ripped away from her. He started crying and the bitch started screaming. "Please don't hurt him!" she screamed, begging.

"Shut the fuck up! You did this. You deserve this," Tiffany yelled. She pushed the kid to the floor and shot him in the back, the blood splattered on her heels, followed by blood curdling screams.

"Tiffany please, stop this! Please!" Bradley screamed, pleadingly. Tiffany stayed silent and then shot the youngest in the chest, spattering her father and the bitch with his blood. Her screams subsided to hysterical crying. Bradley cried, like a broken man. She felt sorry for the boys but, they were just a means to an end, it was better that they died than to be sent away to a shitty foster home anyway.

"Your turn," Tiffany cooed. She liked playing this game. Tiffany got closer to them, they were too afraid and horrified to move. Tiffany took the knife from her bag and sliced it hard across the bitch's throat. The bitch dropped to the floor, bleeding out on the beige carpet, her dying gurgling noises were accompanied by her father's pathetic whimpering.

The engagement ring Chucky had left on the mantle the night that he died glinted on her finger. "Tiffany please…why?" he asked again, making her roll her eyes.

"Daddy, you should know why. I already told you. I killed those you love because, you killed my love," she replied in a sweet voice, though the edge to her voice was a lethal one.

"Tiffany…please.." he whispered, one last time. She looked into his eyes so much like her own one last time before she plunged the knife into his heart because, he had broken hers.

"Goodbye Daddy," Tiffany whispered.

Later that night, after robbing the house, Tiffany left for Hackensack Cemetery, where Chucky's body had been buried. She had cleaned up and changed her clothes before leaving her childhood home, for good. She pulled her black hood over her hair and her tears began to flow once more as she kneeled over Chucky's grave. She sat there, gazing at his grave for another long moment before standing up. "I love you Chucky…." She whispered, more tears fell.

She sat there gazing at his grave and carefully placed a single red rose on it. She sat there for another long moment before standing up. She looked down once again for a second and then turned to walk away.

Later that month, Tiffany had read a story in the news paper about a six year old boy named Andy Barclay who claimed that his doll was possessed by the soul of Charles Lee Ray and had killed a few people, including Eddie. She couldn't believe it but, then she remembered his voodoo teachings with that man John who was now also dead.

She would spend however long trying to find Chucky because, they belonged together and nothing, not even death would keep them apart.

The End…For Now….

A/N: Well holy crap. I can't believe I finished this fic. About time too. I'm not completely pleased with how it turned out but, there you have it. I want to thank everyone who has stuck with Chucky and Tiffany, and that has left me awesome reviews. Especially LuxBlack, who kept me going and continued to not only encourage me but, has also gifted and honored me with her beautiful artwork based on this fic. Also, thank you to White Pedal and Miss Misled-Bloodshed, you're all awesome.

P.S. I was really uncomfortable writing out the little boys' deaths. Child murder is never okay. Don't do it.