Puppet Boy

12.

THE MAN sauntered over to Tyler while letting the soft, eerie sounds of Beethoven fill the spacious room.

Tyler was in front of the vanity again, staring into the mirror with bloodshot and exhausted eyes. He averted his lethargic gaze towards The Man who was gathering his paint together.

"Puppet Girl's a hopeful little one, isn't she?" The Man asked while shaking his head, pulling his paint brush out of a small bag.

Tyler was still astounded by the discovery, but at the same time, he couldn't really blame Emily. She was desperate to survive.

Tyler rolled his head back, staring up at the ceiling. Mold ate away at it, cracking the asbestos and staining it from the water leaking through.

"I only told her that to shut her the hell up. I got sick of those nagging cries and whines," The Man said casually. "She never shut up!"

Tyler knew it.

The Man grabbed Tyler's head with both of his large hands and moved it to an upright position, holding the paint brush between two of his fingers. His shaded eyes stared deep into Tyler's, seeming to study each fleck of blue.

"It's almost sickening to me how quickly Puppet Girl could betray such a beautiful boy like you."

Tyler's chest swelled rapidly as he stared back at The Man with wide eyes. His lungs couldn't fill properly and he was beginning to hyperventilate as each painstakingly slow word slipped from his captor's lips.

"If you even think about crying while I paint your face, you will suffer something worse than whipping," The Man warned, and Tyler groaned quietly.

"For tears will only ruin your makeup, which will make me have to do it all over again, which will make it slightly less perfect than the first time, which will frustrate me, which will eventually end in your brutal death. You decide," The Man continued to threaten.

Tyler stared at the floor.

"And if I take this tape off, you will not talk or protest, correct?" The Man asked, his fingers tracing over the corners of the tape against Tyler's lips.

When Tyler didn't respond, he laughed maliciously. "Correct? Come on, Puppet Boy, I still have to get Puppet Girl done! I don't have all day, the audience is waiting!" he shouted, and Tyler could only imagine all of the saliva that coated the inside of his mask.

Tyler nodded obediently again. The tape was harshly ripped from his lips, making him groan softly under his breath before The Man pressed the cold paint to his cheek.

He tried to focus on the music in the background as best as he could rather than The Man's darkened eyes that were settled on his face.

The paintbrush gliding across his flesh undeniably relaxed him, much different from when he first underwent his makeover in the beginning. He was so scared at that time and he had no idea what was in store for him. He remembered his pounding heart and his wandering eyes, searching the room for any way to escape.

Currently, if the door was open for the chance to escape, Tyler could not imagine himself taking that opportunity. He was too weak, damaged beyond repair and as each second rolled by, he only prayed for his demise to welcome him faster. Escaping was no longer a priority to him.

"Beware the stare of Mary Shaw," Tyler began to hear The Man sing under his breath as he painted lines down the corner of his lips. "She had no children, only dolls."

Tyler shuddered at the sound of his chilling voice singing such twisted words. The cold room was nipping at his bare torso, contributing to his shivers as his eyes followed The Man's brush.

"If you see her in your dreams, be sure you never, ever scream," The Man sang, his eyes glistening at the sight of Tyler's fear. His eyes then, behind the mask, fell into slits as he grinned, feeling pleasure upon viewing his terrified puppet.

"Can you please stop?" Tyler asked, trying to soften his tone a little bit as he steadily examined The Man's eyes. "I.. I mean, I want..." his voice was so drained that it was barely audible but The Man seemed to hear it loud and clear. "I want to hear the music you put on."

"Why, you don't enjoy my singing? Is that it?" The Man growled.

"No... I just..."

Tyler shook his head, giving up. He felt the paint brush press against his skin again.

The Man leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss to the side of Tyler's cheek.

"Okay, I will stop singing for you. I love you so much, Puppet Boy."

Tyler couldn't answer. His throat was too parched and he also figured that maybe if he disobeyed The Man, he would finally be killed.

"Tell me that you love me back! Say it!" The Man screamed abruptly, causing Tyler to flinch beneath the power of his straining voice. "I am trying so hard not to lose my temper."

He dropped the paint brush to the ground and ran his fingers through his short hair, breathing deeply. "Say it now!"

Tyler ignored him, keeping his eyes closed. This was it. If he could only force himself to also ignore his instinctual desire to live, he would finally be put out of his misery.

"Tell me that you love me!" The Man screamed again. "Look what you're doing!" he cried out shakily, moving his head quickly in a way that Tyler assumed must have been to calm himself down. "You're making me mean! You're doing this to me!"

He unexpectedly grabbed Tyler's numb wrist and cracked it, the both of them hearing the loud crack even over the music. Tyler refused to react - he just stared at his deformed wrist, his breath hitching slightly.

That must have not satisfied The Man, because he then grabbed Tyler's throat and wrapped his fingers hard around the base of it. He squeezed it tightly with a determined look of anger in his eyes, watching Tyler squirm beneath his hold.

Tyler struggled for air weakly. He couldn't control his arms to rip The Man's hands away, so he lifted his torso from the chair a bit to try to escape from the lethal grip.

"Say it, say it now!" The Man screamed, continuing to repeat his demand.

Tyler gasped for air, his eyes squeezing shut. A desperate tear slid down his cheek, only snapping The Man further.

"You fucking- you... You messed up your makeup!" he screamed again, his voice cracking as he took his other hand and wrapped it around Tyler's neck too. Tyler could feel his body shake as The Man's grip only tightened.

His vision filled with stars. He began to feel a calmer exhaustion, and he no longer felt the need to fight. His body slid a little off the chair, and his eyelids gently shut before his head fell limp to the side of The Man's white knuckles.

_

dedicated to Sophiatude because she wrote an awesome poem for this story :) here it is:

I've never seen his face

But I have scars from his knife

My blood stains his hands

He keeps me here in the dark

But I want to see the light again

He wants me to love him

But how could I?

To him, I am but an object,

a human marionette

To me, he is a monster, the

bringer of a fate worse than

death

Oh, but what a relief death

would be!

I used to fear it, but it sounds

so much better than what

my life has become