Chucky

            Akash ran his fingers through the costumes hanging on the carousel, trying to make up his mind. His skin tingled when he touched the Chucky costume and a strange sensation overpowered him. Without thinking further he persuaded his mother to swipe her credit card.

            He placed the paper bag in the backseat and his mum pulled out of the driveway. Akash was impatient to get home and try it on.  He fiddled with the red wig, plastic cleaver, denim overalls and the signature mask. He pressed his finger against the deep cut on the mask’s forehead and wondered how he was going to look tonight at the Halloween party

            All his classmates were beyond recognition. He slipped subtly into the crowd and absorbed the spirit of Halloween. Other than the usual pumpkins, cobwebs, pitchforks and skeletons, he noticed tiny toy angels at each corner of the room. He decided to ignore it and have a blast that night. He tried to pick out his friends from the crowd and eventually they found one another. They poked fun at each other and didn’t realize that it was getting late. Akash had a splitting headache and decided to head home early.

            Akash wobbled into his room. All he wanted was to remove this costume and hit the sack. He fumbled to find the base of the mask. Oddly, he was pinching at his own skin, as if it had become seamlessly a part of him. Thinking that the glue was too strong, he decided to remove his overalls first. The buckle seemed jammed and he frantically yanked to free himself. Pulverized by grip and fear, he attempted to remove the shirt under the overalls when he realized that the ends of the colorful long sleeved-shirt were stuck to him. This time, when he pressed the deep cut on the mask, he felt the pain for real on his skin.

            Fun and games had stepped out of the room and Akash came to terms with the possibility that it was no longer a costume, but HE himself had become Chucky…

The Wedding

The photographs were sprawled across the floor and Charlotte had spent the whole morning flipping through dusty old albums. There were just two weeks before Melody and Braydon’s b ig day. Charlotte wanted to surprise them with a slideshow of their childhood and years together.

                                                  

            She gathered a stack of photographs and placed them on the dining table where there was more sunlight. She took a closer look at the childhood photos of Braydon and struggled to make up her mind as there were too many adorable ones. A photo of him pouting his lips showing his bleeding finger caught her attention. She paused a moment. At the back of Braydon was a reddish looking figure wearing a white suit.

            She looked closely at all the photos of Braydon and realized that the figure was in every other photo. Even in a birthday photograph, he would be standing in a corner.

           

“Melody, I think you would want to see this. Can you come over now?” Charlotte sound concerned as she hung up.  

           

Melody pulled into the driveway and parked her Mustang, while waving towards Charlotte, who was standing outside. As she parked her car, she noticed Braydon in the passenger seat. ‘Oh, shoot! I forgot to tell Melody to come alone,’ Charlotte thought to herself. She rushed to put away all the photographs. Melody greeted her warmly with Braydon by her side.  

Braydon’s eyes immediately spotted the stack of photographs in her hands and asked, “Is that why you called us here for?” smirking. Charlotte looked him straight in the eye and threw a photograph on the coffee table, demanding for an answer. Melody ignored the commotion and wandered into the kitchen. It was then that she realised the same figure standing behind Braydon.

The figure started to walk toward Charlotte. His crisp white suit turned to a grim black colour. Braydon remarked that it was almost her turn, any second now, and Melody waltzed out of the kitchen with a cleaver. Charlotte pleaded for Melody’s help as the figure began choking her.

“We all need change… Maybe it’s time you did too,” Melody’s voice rang in Charlotte’s ears as she took her final breath.

The Letter

            My mouth gaped open as I stared at the stained and brittle sheet of paper that was neatly handwritten in disbelief. I glanced again at the envelope to be sure that it was meant for us, The Byers. It was.

            Although the stamp on the envelope was today’s date, the letter was written in 1989. That was ten years ago! I tried to make sense of the new information that I had just read. It was from The Wheelers, the previous owners of the house we live in. They had written to explain to my parents that they felt guilty for disposing their house without disclosing the dark past that surrounds the property. Now it all made sense.

            When I was about seven years old, my family had just moved into the former Wheelers’ house which had been sold to us for quite the bargain. My parents immediately snatched the offer.

About a month after we moved in, my younger sister Nancy, started complaining about a shadowy figure lurking around her room. I’ll never forget the day that Mom brought allowed us to play in the backyard. Mom was on a business phone call and wasn’t watching us. Nancy and I raced towards the lake. As always, crybaby Nancy snatched my teddy bear and when I tried to take it back, she started bawling. Sulking, I went to play on the swing instead.

That’s when I heard Nancy’s bloodcurdling scream. I spun around and I saw Nancy floating on the moss- covered water of the lake. There was nothing I could do but watch helplessly.

            Ever since that day, I’ve lived with the blame of being responsible for my sisters death. And then now… this letter explains it all.

            According to the Wheelers, the house that we live in is haunted by a little girl who drowned in the same lake behind our house. The Wheelers lost two daughters who both drowned on separate occasions. The little girl is always looking for companions to join her by the lake. The house is safe as long as we don’t go close to the lake. Thankfully, after Nancy’s death, I’ve never gone near it.

            Just as I was processing all this, Mom hollered from the kitchen, “Maxine, go join your cousins, they’re already waiting for you by the lake…”