Short story- Flash fiction

Flash fiction

On a stormy evening, Roman and Christina were sitting on the sofa, cuddled up under a blanket, an empty bowl still smelling of buttery pop corn at their feet. The curse of Chucky was playing on the 49 inch TV screen. As the killer doll opened its eyes and the music convienently got more itense, Christina whined and buried her face in Roman’s shoulder, who laughed it off.
‘Come on silly, it’s only a movie, don’t tell me you’re scared of a doll?’
‘A doll?! You call THAT a doll, Roman? This creepy, murdery creature! Just look at his eyes for Christ’s sake!’
Roman giggled.
'Oh I’m looking at them don’t worry, and all I can see is this terrible animating work! Seriously, I did better in my first year of cinema studies!’
'Yeah, well, everyone hasn’t been behind the cameras...’ Chris mumbled. ‘That’s why you’re not scared of anything, you cynical little man!’
‘It is indeed!’ answers Roman with a grin. ‘Trust me, once you’ve seen zombies go for a smoke break and orcs wriggle about in their costume because they need a wee, you’re hardly impressed by any monsters anymore. Besides, I‘m not an easily scared person, it would take a lot!’
Christina mumbled with frustration, and turned the TV off as the film finished. Roman closed the living room curtains, checking, as he did every night, if the lights of the garden shed were off. They were. After a kiss on Christina’s forehead, he went to bed, letting her finish her university work.
Not twenty minutes had passed when Chris called him from downstairs, sounding somewhat alarmed. Roman sighed and mumbled ‘if it’s a spider again, I swear to God...’, but walked down to the living room anyway. No sign of his fiancé.
‘Chris?’ he called. ‘What’s up? Spider again?’
No answer. He suddenly understood, and repressed a smile. She was trying to scare him, to take her revenge! She was probably hidden in a cupboard somewhere, or behing a door. He decided to play along, mostly because he loved her more than anything, and wanted to make her happy. He took a shot at his best possible concerned tone.
‘Chris? Chris where are you?’
He walked around, expecting to see her emerge from her hide any second. But after a few minutes, nothing came. She was apparently trying to play with his nerves before giving him the coup de grâce. He didn’t know how long it would take, and thought a cup of coffee wouldn’t hurt. As he was facing the kitchen window to fill the kettle in the sink, he looked outside and noticed the shed lights were now on. He turned around and saw the keys of the shed were no longer hung on their nail. He sighed, smiling.
‘That’s where you are then, you cheeky monkey. Okay, here I come...’
He grabbed a flashlight from a drawer and stepped outside. The air was cold, and a cloud of mist was hovering over the garden. Roman shivered.
‘She really chose her night to try and scare me, anyone else would be-’ he stopped. As he was only a few yards away from the shed, the lights had suddenly turned off. He raised an obligatory eyebrow. Christina had always been terrified to be in the dark alone...
Roman was finally starting to worry. He groped around for the switch button of his flashlight. Eventually, a ray of light appeared, first quivery, then steadier. When he got to the door of the shed, Roman stopped to listen if he could hear or see Chris. Not a sound, not a movement around. He took a deep breath, shook his head and, calling himself an idiot, open the creaking door.
The inside of the shed was, as any shed interior, dusty and messy. Looking down though, Roman could notice that some feet-shaped spots were darker, where dust had been walked upon. He took a closer look, squinting. One thing Chris had always been self conscious about was her size 9, fairly big for a woman... Well, these prints were way too small to be hers.
‘What the-’
Something fell in the dark in front of him, making a metallic noise. He swiftly  raised the flashlight, and stopped breathing. Sitting on top of the box that once contained the TV, grinning, was a creepy, murdery creature. More precisely, a doll. Roman couldn’t believe his eyes, petrified.
‘Ch-Chucky?’
‘No baby, it’s me’ answered the speaking toy in a squeaking voice. ‘Don’t recognise me? Come closer, look at me... In the eyes.’
And then Roman saw it. Instead of the dull, brown eyes the doll wore in the films, the young man recognised the well-known, so dearly loved green eyes that made him fall in love with Chris four years earlier. His underwear were now feeling warm and wet, but he was barely conscious of it. His mouth was open on a silent cry that would never cross his lips.
The evil doll inclined forward, a morbid smile accross his face, and asked with a falsely affected voice, ‘Are you scared now, darling?’.
As for an answer, Roman dropped the flashlight on the floor. Everything went dark.