Child’s Play 2 by Matthew J. Costello

Author:Matthew J. Costello [Costello, Matthew J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

I’ll get you too, Chucky thought while he was still cartwheeling through the air.

Yes, he thought again with the first thump on the wooden steps, I’ll take care of you, Mr. Suburbanite. We’ll fix your wagon. And your stupid little wife too.

Lots of things we can do here.

He banged down the steps, head over heels, each thwap sending another reminder that his soul was being locked into this made-in-Taiwan body. Then, finally, his head cracked against the concrete floor of the cellar, and he nearly screamed from the pain.

He was in the dark. The light was off, and the door was slammed shut. He heard Phil call but, “He’s gone now, Andy. Okay? He can’t bother you anymore.”

Chucky heard something else as well. Something down here . . . chittering and moving, right down here. And now—this was a first, sports fans—there were smells. He was smelling again! Dank, wet smells. Nearly as bad as that rat hole he had shared with Eddie Caputo. Poor Eddie.

If Eddie hadn’t left him behind, none of this would have happened. And Eddie had to pay a big ticket price for that error in judgment. Poor bastard got spooked and fired his gun when he didn’t know the gas was on. It was instant tenement removal, rats and all.

That’s what Eddie was . . . just another big rat.

Chucky reached behind and felt the crack in his head. Ow, that was nasty. A real split in the skull. But he noticed, as he sat up, that it didn’t appear to affect his thought processes at all.

Then he felt something wet drip onto the top of his overalls.

Oh, shit, no, he thought. Not again.

He reached his hand around and felt his bloody, wet nose. He looked at his fingers, catching the pitiful amount of light in this dungeon.

He heard tiny feet, sniffing close to him.

More blood. It’s getting late, too late! It has to be tomorrow or I’ll be trapped, he thought.

The feet scuttled closer. He thought he felt wiry hairs brush against his back. The rats must sniff the blood, he thought. They must get a bit hungry down here.

The rat came closer, and its hairs stuck through the material of his shirt. He smelled the fetid breath of the animal. It must eat some pretty weird garbage down here.

Chucky waited, just a few seconds, before he turned around and grabbed the rat around its neck. It twisted in his hands, which were strong and powerful.

“No, I got you,” Chucky screamed at it.

The rat tried working its needle-nosed snout around to chew at Chucky’s hand. But Chucky bowed his arms out so just the hands held the rat and it couldn’t bite anything.

The rat coughed and Chucky increased the pressure. He heard more sounds, more chittering and movement. The other rats were moving in for the kill. Chucky pressed harder until he thought he heard something snap.

A wet goo leaked out of the rat’s nostrils, over Chucky’s hands, and onto the stone floor.

“Man, that’s gross,” he hissed.

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