Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Peter Ray was a brother in Christ. He was devoted to his faith, this church and his wife Elizabeth. While it’s a shame that his life ended far too soon, we mustn’t wallow in the sadness of his passing. God wants us to remember the man sent to this world, He wants us to trust that Peter is with him in Heaven watching over his family and us all.” 

“Why isn’t she crying?” 

“I cannot imagine what she’s going through..pregnant and a widow? We gotta pray for her..” 

“She’ll find a new man no doubt. Trailer trash like that usually does. It wouldn't surprise me if she has one now.” 

There was nothing louder than whispers at a funeral. The audacity amplified the sounds of the church women’s comments, stinging Elizabeth’s ears. It took everything inside of Elizabeth not to back-hand snotty Edith right then and there. What did that sissy know? She may have married young and rich but that woman was about as smart as the bottom of her shoes. From a young age Elizabeth picked up a pattern among the (for lack of better words) stupid population, they always talked and talked and talked. Peter, Elizabeth’s now late husband, was part of that population. 

Elizabeth had been married to Peter Ray for only two years, but they knew of each other for longer. Peter was a junior in high school, Elizabeth a freshman and Elizabeth absolutely hated him. He was a snake and a loud one at that..oh how she hated how loud he was. It didn’t matter who was talking or what the conversation was about, Peter Ray always came to drown it out. Despite this everyone remembered him as the good, all American boy. Every girl’s dream and out of all the girls who practically worshipped the ground he walked on, Peter wanted Elizabeth. 

“Mrs.Ray, are you alright?”  

Elizabeth shook her head a little. Everyone was gone, except for the pastor and the undertaker. Elizabeth placed a hand on her stomach, the baby inside kicked immediately. The baby, Charles, wasn’t even here yet and Elizabeth could already tell he was full of energy. The pastor gave her a solemn smile at the instinctive gesture Elizabeth had, Elizabeth bit her tongue. That smile was everything but comforting..she hated it. 

“I am fine.” Elizabeth smiled, her blue eyes widening a bit. Elizabeth found that if she widened her eyes, she appeared more warm and friendly. It didn’t make sense, but it worked. As the undertaker began burying the wooden coffin the pastor put his hand on Elizabeth’s stomach. Her eyes darkened immediately, locking on his face. She hated that look in his eyes..that sickening glow. 

“If you need anything at all..you know how to get a hold of me.” He licked his lips, his hand not leaving her stomach. The baby kicked, twice. Elizabeth could not understand why people, mostly women, found it appropriate to touch a pregnant woman’s stomach. It irritated Elizabeth because then, Charles would kick. Elizabeth quickly looked around and seeing as though nobody important was around, she smacked him smartly across the mouth with the back of her hand. His hand pulled away from her as he took a small step back. 

“Whatever your impression is of me pastor, it’s dead wrong. I find your sinful thoughts to be nauseating. You are old, you are fat and I don’t quite care for the sound of your voice.” Elizabeth kept her voice down but she spoke slowly and clearly, she was more than confident in her words. 

“I-I meant no offense to my words Elizabeth. I was just extending the olive branch..Peter would have-” 

“Peter is dead now, I do not answer to his wishes anymore. You are inappropriate and out of line. If you ever touch me again, I can’t promise I’ll be gentle.” She turned away, marching up the hill to Peter’s old and beat up wagon. She needed a new car, that much was certain. As she drove away, her blood began to boil. Who did he think he was? Oh if she could just..

It’s too risky. Charles could come any week now and if he’s anything like his Daddy he’d wait till the most inconvenient and annoying time. 

Elizabeth slammed her hand on the steering wheel, hard. Taking a deep breath her mind replayed the slap. She loved his face, he looked like a weak little boy. Elizabeth giggled, at least Peter fought back. The pastor just stood there with that silly stunned look on face, a look that screamed ‘that’s never happened before!’ Elizabeth had no doubt that the other women he pawed at were not strong enough to fight back, mistaking Elizabeth for one of those women was a decision he will come to regret. 

“Be a good boy and stay inside just a little longer. Mama has some work to do.” Elizabeth knew it was silly to speak to an unborn child but she did it anyway, she had a small feeling that babies could hear their mothers from the womb. She needed this baby to stay inside, just for the night. As she parked the car and opened the driver door, her undergarments became soaked and her vagina felt as though it was being stabbed and ripped apart repeatedly. Elizabeth growled, then screamed. “You little fuck!” 

Driving to the hospital by herself was something Elizabeth had no problems with. Though her arms shook, the hot irritation of the labor starting now kept her focused on the road. She didn’t speed, or drive recklessly as she assumed most would in her situation. But Elizabeth could care less that her baby was coming now, that little asshole could suffocate for all she cared. 

Elizabeth stormed into the hospital, her face red. She loudly announced she was in labor, apathetic to the others who needed care. Three nurses came rushing to her aid, one rolling a wheelchair with her. As they rushed her to the delivery room, they kept asking her questions. When did this happen? Was she feeling faint? Elizabeth didn’t answer any of them. All she could think about was the very first act of disobedience, an act so personal Elizabeth feared her baby could read her thoughts. 

I told you to stay inside.

As it turns out, baby Charles wasn't just coming. By the time she got to the hospital he was practically there. The nurses were amazed that the new widow was able to drive herself and give birth by herself, they admired her strength. They didn't know that Elizabeth didn't have anyone in her corner, even if she needed someone. That's how it had been for years. 

Elizabeth was advised to rest, and she did when she could. She slept so hard there had been times when a nurse had to tend to the baby because she just wouldn't get up. When she was awake and Charles got fussy, she tended to him in a rather unusually cold way. The nurses didn't think much of it, the small town knew of her husband's passing from the papers. They all felt great sympathy for the woman. 

“You're all set to leave now, Mrs. Ray. Everything looks good and baby…” 

“Charles. Charles Lee Ray.” 

“Ah Charles! Charles is very healthy and you recovered remarkably quickly. I'm impressed.” 

Elizabeth didn't know how to accept compliments, not really. She'd often just smile or give a fake, girlish laugh but her mind was tired from labor and she didn't have the energy for that. She just wanted to get home and sleep in a bed she was comfortable and familiar with. She missed her blankets and now with Peter being dead, she wouldn't have to listen to his snoring. 

“Will you be okay to drive? We can call you a taxi, if you'd like.” 

“I will manage.” Elizabeth replied. 

-

Thunder crashed and the lightning from it illuminated the sleeping pastor. Everything about his lustful behavior was explained by the two magazines left carelessly on his bed. Elizabeth had been staring at him for what must have been hours now. Her blue eyes were dark and her face held a cold look of quiet rage only Peter had seen from her. Though her body was still sore and recovering from giving birth, she knew she had a lesson to teach. 

Elizabeth recounted all the times the pastor had preached about lust and about pornoagraphy. Elizabeth always had a feeling the sermons of sex addiction were coming from inside the house. She could see it in his eyes everytime he looked at her, even with Peter alive. Still it made her sick to see him lying there with that filth next to him, snoring like a pig. Edith wanted to call Elizabeth a whore, wait till she hears about this. 

Elizabeth loaded Peter’s handgun, the click of the barrel waking the pastor up but he was too fat and slow to really react in a productive way. Elizabeth shot him right in the side of his head. His body went stiff, his eyes filled with fear as the blood drenched the pillow. Finally, a look she liked. His hand laid flat, she placed the gun in his hand and left with the magazines still on his bed. The story told itself. 

That was too easy. 

When she got back home, Charles was crying in his nursery. Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she picked him up, rocking him a little. “Now there's no need for that. If you would have just listened to your mother I wouldn't have had to leave you alone, now would I?” The baby whimpered, the crying stopping as he fell back asleep. Elizabeth kissed his forehead, laying him back in his crib. Though that was a normal gesture of love, Elizabeth felt nothing for her new son. 

“Oh Chucky.” Elizabeth sighed. “You best not give me any trouble. I have very little patience for little boys who don't behave.” 

That night Elizabeth slept like a baby herself. She dreamt of the look on that bitch Edith's face when everyone found out the pastor's dirty little secret. Elizabeth hated going to church but she would this time. She wanted to see the tears, she wanted to see the disbelief. The looks of the surviving loved ones was her favorite part and the reason that kept her doing the things she did. 

That next morning, the sun shimmered and the birds chirped. Before tending to her son, Elizabeth grabbed her leather-bound journal from her top dresser and with it her favorite pen. She opened the book up to her favorite page..and her favorite list of names. She scribbled on the page quickly and when the name was written she grinned as she read through the small..but growing list. 

There was the pastor, there was old man Henry Williams and his wife Ada. There was the town hooker, nobody knew her real name. And her favorite name on the list…

Peter Ray. 

Chapter Text

“Oh Lizzie..” Ruth dabbed at her eyes with the white handkerchief she pulled from her purse. “It was just so horrible! The police found him surrounded by those dirty books an-and there was so much blood!” 

Elizabeth’s stare was vacant, her blue eyes sunken in. It had been three days since Charles was born and three days since she had murdered the pastor. His funeral was planned quickly, but Elizabeth did not attend. Even if she hadn't killed him she still would not have gone, she just didn’t care at all and it was very clear to see. Elizabeth tolerated Ruth, she was one of the very few church wives she talked to on a somewhat consistent basis but right now Elizabeth wanted to strangle her. 

“I don’t blame you for not showing up at the funeral.” Ruth blew her nose a little and put the handkerchief back in her purse. “First Peter..now this. I can’t imagine what you are going through.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Elizabeth..” The sound of Charles’s cries stopped Ruth. She sighed a little as Elizabeth stepped quietly to his nursery, returning back to the couch with him in his arms. The color in Ruth’s face returned a little as Charles cooed and sniffed. “What a handsome little boy!” 

Elizabeth smiled down at her son, rocking him a little. “He is, isn't he?” 

“I just know Peter is smiling down on you..God has really blessed you Elizabeth Marie.” 

A blessing. 

Children were something Elizabeth never wanted. From a young age, the very idea of carrying a baby inside of her made her nauseous. Her own mother would brush the worries off, telling Elizabeth she was just being silly. As she got older Elizabeth displayed no interest in men, marriage or even romance in general..that scared her mother and her father. They told Elizabeth she had to settle down soon enough or she’d waste away, living a life of solitude and misery. 

As she and Peter’s relationship progressed, Peter mentioned wanting one child. A boy if he could help it. Though Elizabeth wanted to back out then and there, she knew he was her only chance at escaping her parents. So she batted her eyelashes and told him how much she wanted to be a mother, how being a mother was her one and only dream. 

“Oh! I hadn’t looked at the time! I gotta get going.” Ruth stood as Elizabeth remained sitting. “If you need anything and I really mean anything you just let me know!” 

“I will.” Elizabeth replied dryly. 

When the front door closed, Elizabeth stared at it as Charles slept in her arms. This should be the happiest time of her life despite the tragedy, as others put it. This is what most women dream of, Elizabeth knew that. However Elizabeth wasn’t like most women and happy was not what Elizabeth would call this. 

“Why aren’t you happy?! I thought you wanted this!” 

“I am happy!” 

Peter laughed, taking a step back from Elizabeth. “You can smile pretty all you want Liz, I’m smarter than that. You’re not happy-you’re never happy when you should be!” 

Elizabeth kept her eyes down as the house fell silent. The calm before the storm as Elizabeth called it. Peter was staring at her, she could feel his brown eyes probably dark as they turned when he got angry. Elizabeth knew to shrink, to cower at his feet. The mousey Elizabeth was who he married and that’s the appearance she had to keep up with. 

“Look at this place! It’s a pigsty!” He kicked the coffee table over. Peter picked up the flower vase and shattered it against the wall. “I work every single day so I can take care of you, so I can take care of this baby! You can’t even clean a house!” 

“Peter, I’m sorry-” 

“Sorry for what?! What the fuck is wrong with you?! You’re so cold, you won’t even let me kiss unless we’re in public! It took you months to sleep with me! Do you even love me?!” 

Silence. 

If she had her way, Elizabeth would have told him no. She would have screamed the word because it was the truth. Elizabeth didn’t love Peter, she never did. She had tried and tried to convince herself she loved him, but she was smarter than that. The longer the silence went on, the more Peter wanted to lose it. He took a quick step toward his wife and without thinking, she slapped him in the face. Hard. 

Peter was stunned and he could not hide that no matter how hard he tried. Elizabeth could see his masculinity break like glass. Peter, a 5’10 man and the head of the house, was slapped like a bitch by his 5’3 ‘mousey’ wife. Peter smirked, laughing dryly once again. Elizabeth was getting brave. 

“Go ahead and hit me, Peter.” Elizabeth shrugged. “Smack me, punch me or kick me I don’t give a shit. You might wanna think about it though, I’m baking up your baby after all.” 

“Don’t you ever hit me again. Do you understand?!” 

No, Elizabeth didn’t understand. Why wasn’t she allowed to hit him? All he did was run his mouth, yell and scream. Peter was like a child and when children misbehave, they get smacked. It wasn’t rocket science. While she felt the power and saw the fear in his eyes, she didn’t want this to go on. She needed a break, for now. For now. 

“I understand and I am, so sorry Peter. I didn’t mean it, honest. You just moved too quickly and it scared me..that’s all.” She lied. 

Peter pulled her in by her waist, a gesture he hadn’t done since their failed honeymoon, and kissed her. His breath was disgusting and hot, it made Elizabeth want to vomit and rip away from him. She stayed in his embrace though, going so far as to rest her head against his chest. 

Charles was crying. 

Elizabeth rocked him a little as her mind came back. Elizabeth and Peter’s relationship was tested intensely as her pregnancy progressed. Elizabeth tapped into the cold and merciless power she had. When Peter had finally had enough, voicing his thoughts of leaving he got..really sick. So sick he was bedridden within the week his symptoms started. 

“Poison my dear boy, is a miracle.” Elizabeth told Charles. “If you get the right stuff..they can’t even taste it.”

Chapter Text

“Mommy said it’s okay if you stay the night if it’s okay with Mrs.Ray.”

Chucky kicked a rock as he and Eddie walked down the dark side walk. The streets were dying down as porch lights flicked off, Halloween was almost over. Halloween was such a magical time, Chucky hated that it had to end. If he could become president of the world he’d make sure Halloween happened all the time, or at the very least he’d make it a three day event. “I dunno Eddie..Momma’s been really bad. I think I should just go home.” 

“If you say so. Hey how come Mrs.Ray is always mad at you?” Eddie asked. 

Chucky shrugged. “I know I can be stupid but yesterday she yelled at me and I didn’t do anything!” 

Eddie groaned. “That’s always the worst!” 

“Tell me about it.” The boys walked by a house and sitting on the front porch was a little girl in her pjs. Her hair was black and her eyes were a beautiful shade of brown. Chucky grinned from ear to ear, waving at her almost frantically. Eddie couldn’t recognize her at first but when he did, he also waved. The girl watched the front door for a moment before she walked quickly up to the boys. 

“Hey guys.” She sighed.

“Hey Tiffany.” Eddie and Chucky said in unison, making Tiffany giggle. 

“What did you dress up as?” Chucky asked. His blue eyes widened as he took in Tiffany's face. She was the prettiest girl at his school, but he wouldn't admit that out loud. Tiffany hung her head a little, suddenly looking sad. 

“Mommy didn't let me. She says it's a waste of money.” 

Chucky growled. “Well she's a waste of money!”

Eddie giggled and Tiffany blushed a little. “I like your clown costume Chucky..” 

“Thank you!” He stood a little straighter “Momma made mine all by herself!” He said proudly. 

“Really?” Tiffany asked. 

“Uh-huh!” Chucky gasped loudly. “Oh shit! Momma wants me home- I gotta go!” Without thinking about it, Chucky started to run. He didn't hear his friends telling him bye, all he could think about was his mother. Luckily for him, Tiffany Valentine didn't live but a block away from his house. 

When he did get home, the lights were all off except for the one in the small dining room. Chucky dumped his candy bag on the table and began sifting through it. He wasn't very hungry, but he did have an apple in his bag that he knew he wanted. As he brought it up to his lips something shiny and metal made him stop. There was something sticking out of his apple. Taking his small finger across the blade, Chucky winced as it started to bleed. He asked himself why someone would even think about putting a blade in a child's apple…then suddenly an even harder question came to his mind. 

Why didn't I think of that? 

Chucky found himself thinking of all the people he could give the apple too. He thought about Mrs.Valentine and how mean she was to Tiffany, he thought about his teacher who was always trying to get him in trouble. He even thought of his own mother. But as he stared at the apple, Chucky felt something..different. He supposed it was curiosity but it didn't feel like that. It confused him a little. He asked himself how bad it would hurt if he just… 

Chomp. 

The pain was stinging, but it wasn't like Chucky was gonna die. His mouth started to bleed and he didn't cry, he actually found it quite funny! How could he not? If someone else had gotten this apple they wouldn't have seen the blade and they'd just be crying and screaming when they finally found it. That was funny to Chucky. 

“Charles.” 

Chucky stopped laughing. His mother stood at the top of the stairs, practically frozen. How much had she seen? Chucky had no idea what to do. He obviously shouldn't be laughing, so he made himself start sobbing as the blood ran down his chin and onto his costume. His mother sighed as she walked down the stairs. She took his chin in her hand gently and made him look at her. “Open.” her voice was cold. Chucky opened his mouth.  

“Well you're not gonna need stitches.” She filled up a cup of water and brought it to him. “Swish this in your mouth, don't swallow.” She instructed. Chucky did as she told him while she studied the apple. She had to hand it to the perpetrator, it was fucking genius. She'd be taking notes for sure. 

“M-Momma..it hurts..” Chucky sniffed. 

“It will for a little while just ignore it and you'll be fine.” Elizabeth shrugged. “I'm going back to sleep. Now I want you in your pjs in five minutes, got it?” 

Chucky nodded and without another word, Elizabeth went back up stairs. Once he was sure she wouldn't be down…Chucky giggled again. If Momma caught him laughing, she'd think he was nuts! Chucky was amazed at how easy it was to fool her, all he had to do was cry and act scared. Parents were just so stupid. 

As he laid his head down on his pillow his mind returned to the apple and he dreamed of bloody mouths. 

Why was he laughing? 

Could Elizabeth really ask herself that question? Didn't she already know the answer? She could hear it loud and clear in the giggles, see it in his eyes. He was laughing not because he was hurt, but because someone else could get hurt. The wheels in his little head were turning and there was no mistaking that. After all Elizabeth herself immediately thought about the possibilities and if her son was anything like her…that's why he was laughing. 

Elizabeth closed his bedroom door behind her as she stepped out. 

Chapter Text

The crayon pictures she had found in her son’s notebook were bloody. They told stories of torture and death. Of chaos and destruction. 

Any parent would have been terrified that their child was drawing pictures like these, but Elizabeth wasn’t scared. Elizabeth couldn’t feel anything, she never really could. As she flipped through the pictures all she could think about was her husband as he wasted away in his bed. She could smell the sickness on him, see the light in his eyes drain away with each passing day. Elizabeth loved watching her work unfold in front of her and she only wished she could choose that method with everyone. Death was beautiful and Elizabeth didn’t feel the need to care about these silly little doodles. 

Just as she was about to put up the notebook she came across yet another drawing. Her eyes burned, her hands shook. It was a drawing of her, there was no doubt about that. The drawing depicted her gutted and the word ‘pig’ was scribbled on the page. Something inside Elizabeth whispered that a boy had no right to draw things like that about his mother. Elizabeth saw the boy’s father in the drawing, in the word choice. She saw his pathetic tantrums, she heard his loud and obnoxious voice. The front door opened and Chucky announced his arrival from school. 

Elizabeth slammed open the door to her son’s room. The two stood on the stairs for what felt like hours. Elizabeth hated that stupid little face of his, it was a face he always made when he was in trouble. She yanked him by the arm and dragged him into his room, throwing him on the ground. She picked up his notebook and shoved the drawing into his face before throwing the book behind her. 

“You have no right little boy.” She stuck a finger in his face. “No right! What kind of sick shit was that, huh?!” 

“It’s just-” 

Elizabeth slapped him, hard. “Just what?! Just a picture of your mother?!” she laughed dryly. “When did you draw that? Was it when I told you to throw your candy away because some sick fuck put a razor blade in your apple?! Do you not understand I was protecting you?!” 

Chucky didn’t answer. 

“I will not be disrespected like this again. Do you hear me, Charles Lee Ray? I will not tolerate this pathetic behavior from you, not after I sacrifice everything for you! Get off your ass and I want every single crayon you have in the god damn trash by the time supper is done!” 

Elizabeth whirled around and picked up the notebook. She began to rip out every single page, throwing it to the ground after the floor was littered with his disturbing art. She sighed and then smiled sweetly. “Pick this shit up off the floor, while you’re at it.” She stomped out of his room, slamming it behind her. 

-

By the time dinner was finished, all of the drawings were in the trash along with his crayons. Just like his mother wanted. The two ate in silence. Chucky kept his head down, trying his best to ignore the sting of his mother’s eyes. As Elizabeth watched him the picture kept flashing in her mind. It made her sick to think about, her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked coldly. 

“Um..n-no?” Chucky replied softly. 

Elizabeth giggled as she got up from her seat. She took his plate of barely touched food and flung it at the wall. “Oh you’re not forgetting anything? I’m sorry son, you must have fucking signed thank-you to me when I wasn’t looking.” When Chucky didn’t say anything, she returned back to her seat. She ate her own food while her son watched and she loved it. When she was done she waved dismissively. “Get the fuck out of my face, I don’t want to see you for the rest of the night.” 

Chucky practically sprinted up the stairs. 

Elizabeth snorted when she heard the door to his room slam shut. He was just like his father when he was angry, it was sad. She left the broken pieces of glass on the floor. After she washed her plate and the dinner dishes, she put her shoes on and grabbed her car keys. 

Elizabeth loved driving at night. Her favorite roads were the one’s hardly touched by humans. She loved how quiet they were, they helped her think. As she drove her mind went back to Chucky’s picture. Elizabeth gripped the steering wheel, trying her best not to scream. She turned a corner and in her headlights was a woman walking. The woman looked lost and confused, scared even. Elizabeth screamed as she floored the gas pedal. The car bounced over the woman and when Elizabeth looked in her mirror, she smiled as the woman lay sprawled out in the road. 

“Silly bitch.” Elizabeth cackled. 

When she got home she went straight to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine. As she sipped her drink she noticed that the broken glass was picked up and the kitchen was cleaner than when she left it. She rolled her eyes when she heard her son’s bedroom door open. 

“Momma?” he called from the top of the stairs. 

“What is it, Charles?” she sighed. 

“I’m sorry..I won’t draw again.”

Elizabeth smiled to herself. She loved the fear in his voice, that’s what obedience sounded like. “Go to bed.” she said simply.

Chucky closed his door again.