Puppet Boy

13.

ALL THE MAN wanted was a puppet show. But staring at his beautiful Puppet Boy, laying cold on the ground in Puppet Girl's arms, he felt the urge to vomit. He begged and pleaded under his breath for his beautiful puppet to be alive; he surrendered over and over but to no avail.

"You better fix him, God damn it!" The Man screamed to his Puppet Girl while pacing back and forth, his fingers rubbing his temples. "You better fix him or you can forget about seeing your little brother. Or, better yet, you and your little brother will both be killed!"

He figured that proposition would definitely make her try to fix him faster.

He watched as she weakly sobbed, closing her eyes and pressing her mouth to Puppet Boy's. She breathed into him, and he could practically see her thought process racing as she tried to push his pressure away and focus on giving his puppet CPR. The Man found it hilarious, watching in amusement as she desperately wailed and sniveled, holding Puppet Boy in her weak little arms.

"Y-you- k-killed him! I don't know what else to do," she sobbed heavily, tears rushing down her cheeks. "Please don't touch Andrew, please."

His fists balled up at his sides. "I didn't kill him!" he snapped back while picking a glass bottle off the vanity and tossing it against the wall. It shattered, but the sound quickly faded under Emily's hopeless wails for help. "He's just faking, he's... he's playing a trick on me!"

The Man, quite frankly, thought it was cruel what his own puppet was doing to him. He thought it was unfair and rude that Puppet Boy was playing such a sick joke on him. If his poor puppet were to come to again, he had the worst punishment of all planned for him. He grinned beneath his mask at the pure thought of it.

"I'm sorry, Sir, you're right," she agreed hastily, clearly just trying to please him. "He's... only joking."

Puppet Girl hurriedly pressed her ear to his bare chest and listened, seeming to hear a heart beat, as her eyes suddenly sparkled with a new found hope.

"Is he fixed yet?" The Man asked impatiently.

She just adjusted herself on her brittle knees, staring at Puppet Boy's cold and purple lips. She then brought her fingers to his sensitive throat where fresh, discoloured contusions coated his neck. A few tears rushed down her cheeks before she continued to quietly sob, her trembling fingers slowly moving down his arm. "Tyler, please..." she whispered, tears falling to her lips.

She kept her fingers on his pulse with hopeful eyes, but nothing was happening.

She allowed her eyes to scale down Tyler's bare torso, where she noticed the dull-coloured bruises that coated his flesh in large blotches. The sides of his ribs were leaking with dried blood, and his stomach was slightly sunken in.

"If you don't-"

"I'm trying!" Puppet Girl screamed, her lungs sore from breathing so heavily. "You killed him! You choked him to death," she yelled out, seeming to forget how weak she was.

The Man snorted while shaking his head. He suddenly grabbed beneath her bare arms and pushed her up against the wall with such force, the air was knocked from her lungs. She hit her head back against the wall, crying out in pain as he pressed her harder into the thick brick.

"I am upset right now, because Puppet Boy is playing this sick joke on me, and you have..." he laughed, staring at her face.

She looked so terrified, her eyes were wide and her flushed cheeks were bright and clammy with desperation. The Man loved it. He loved to see his control over this beautiful puppet.

"You have the audacity to just..." he squeezed her shoulders, causing her to scream out into the air. "To just yell at me like that! My puppet is hurt, and there is an audience out there waiting for him!"

"This is not a puppet show, he isn't a puppet, sir. He's a person, he is a human life," she sobbed, trembling under The Man's grip. He felt a wave of pleasure roll through his stubby body at the feeling of her bones shaking beneath his fingertips. "You're insane! You need help," she told him, gazing into his eyes desperately. "You really need help."

The Man stared back into her eyes, lost in thought. How could she say such a thing? He would never speak to his creator that way. He would never disrespect his creator the way the both of his puppets did, and he didn't know where he had gone wrong.

Maybe they weren't abused enough? He figured that he disciplined them as much as he could. The key to the perfect submissive puppets is a lot of discipline, he remembered his creator's voice telling him that.

He stood in silence for a few minutes before he fully processed her hateful words and, before beginning to cry, he grabbed her by her hair and smashed her head back into the wall.

"You don't know me, you filthy slut! I control you. You are mine, all mine, remember that," he growled, his fingers still tangled in her hair as he held her head back.

He remembered seeing her when her car broke down that night. Upon studying her, she seemed to be the typical, pompous school girl that wouldn't give anybody who wasn't an athletic jock even so much as a second look. Her hair was clean and shiny, cascading down her shoulders with elegance. Her large eyes were underlined with black and her scent... Oh, God, her scent. The Man almost moaned at the memory of her beautiful vanilla fragrance as he carried her unconscious body back to his car.

"Would all of those boys you have slept with love you the way I do, seeing you in this condition?" he asked, holding her wrists above her head and staring down at her.

Her eyes widened as his words. "What is wrong with you?" she asked shakily. "You... you don't... even know me."

She tried to fight him, she tried to resist his grip but she was too weak and he was too strong. The Man smiled wide beneath his disguise.

"Remember who you once were, Emily Clark?" he asked her, and her eyes went big again, fear threading through her dark brown irises. She stared up at him, her mouth agape and her chapped lips struggling to part for air. "I know a lot more about you than you think."

It was so pleasant for him to see his control over her - for now she had no choice but to give him a second look and he could tell she loved it. She was only hiding it.

His puppets loved to play tricks on him.

"How... how do you...-" she tried to find the words to ask, but his menacing chuckle cut her off. Each bout of laughter was just as icy as the sadistic glint in his eyes as he dropped her harshly to the ground.

He stepped over to his beautiful Puppet Boy, who happened to still lay limp on the ground, his arm twisting beneath him. His position only reminded The Man that he was merely a puppet, which made his heart flutter with excitement.

He lifted his puppet's tall upper body into his arms, staring down at him. "Don't you worry, my beautiful Puppet Boy... you will be fixed for the show. You will be, I promise," he whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his cold forehead.

The Man stopped dead in his tracks and turned his head towards his Puppet Girl, who was a shaking mess in the corner of the room. Her head was in her hands and her sobs quaked her petite body.

He then averted his gaze back towards his Puppet Boy, smiling callously. His puppet was surely going to regret playing such a cruel game. "Lets take you to the operation room, then, shall we?"

_

A.N.

the man's pov... :o
the end is nearing! what do you guys think will happen?