Chapter Text
The sound of warping metal when the Eldest’s sword connects with the puppet’s legion arm is ear splitting. Sparks fly as it nearly cuts clean through- spared only by the launcher of the Puppet String taking the brunt of the damage. It’s ears ring as it collides with the ground, every sensor in its body going off at once. The puppet’s legion arm lays still at its side as it tries hopelessly to will the machination back to life and push itself upright but the hand doesn’t move.
The blades from the Black Rabbit Brotherhood’s weapons had made deep, jagged cuts across its body- its new clothes tattered beyond repair. What had once been a well-tailored Bastard’s ensemble safely stowed away in a safe is now no different than any other survivor of this ravaged city.
It knows that any second it will fade to nothing from a killing blow, and then it will march back to this arena until it succeeds. The puppet has never won on its first attempt, and it was a difficult lesson for it to learn. There’s no hope left for it to win this round. Down a limb and losing oil by the second, it can’t bear to fathom what its father would think if he saw the pitiful state it's in.
His greatest creation- his ‘precious son’.
You told me to clear out the ‘monsters’ in the Malum District, and I thought you just meant the carcasses. Everyone at the hotel warned me of their brutality but I didn’t expect the Brotherhood to be waiting for me personally.
Did they know I was coming?
The Eccentric had greeted it at the gates, unleashing an exceedingly mutated carcass upon it as a welcome gift, and the Eldest had even carried a coffin the perfect size for the puppet to their fight.
It understands that even without any ties to the Puppet Frenzy the city would benefit from their demise. So foolishly it had believed the Red Fox and Black Cat would help when it mattered most, not to mention it had used its last Star Fragment to fight Andreus. Yet, it still approached this downtrodden arena knowing the task had to be done with or without the aid of others.
At least Gemini is with me- wait, where is he?
The puppet swivels its head in search of the guide cricket. Not only had the force of the attack thrown the puppet to the ground, but the small lamp had been knocked free and out of sight
At last it spots Gemini’s light flashing desperately more than a few feet away, trying to communicate he’s still here- that he’s not going anywhere.
He’s yelling.. something. I don’t understand what he’s saying- I can’t hear him.
It feels a storm is raging just behind its eyes, and in its daze it struggles to focus as it watches the Youngest walk over to the vulnerable cricket. She retrieves the lamp and shakes it violently.
“Aw, and here I thought they put an actual li’l cricket in these things. How disappointing.”
As the puppet tries to free its still good arm to reach for the lamp, the Eldest’s sword shatters the ground inches from the puppet’s face and blocks the view of its companion being taken away. Slowly, it turns to glare up at the man.
I’m still functioning- we’re still fighting.
The puppet doesn't understand why it’s so desperate to save the noisy cricket guide, but something within it screams that the little lamp is all that matters now.
If I die without you by my side- would you still be with me when I wake up?
All thoughts of its father and the Puppet Frenzy are cast aside.
Hold on, Gemini.
It wobbles as it mimics the Eldest, striking its saber into cobblestone with all the ferocity it can muster. The man stands staring at it, the mask giving no indication of what could be running through his mind, but his lack of reaction to the puppet making its last stand makes it wonder.
Impressed? Or just shocked I’m not as easy to kill as the rest of the puppets you’ve cleaved?
The puppet doesn’t break line of sight with the lenses of the rabbit mask even as it wavers out of focus. In the low lighting it still catches a glimpse of the piercing pale eyes behind the mask. Slowly pulling itself to its knees with the support of the saber the puppet lets out a small huff.
It can still be you and me- the others can have their turns after.
Pulling his shoulders back and tearing his sword from stone, the Eldest takes his stance and waits. A small act of respect. The puppet may have a second last stand and it won’t just let him knock it down again.
If you wanted an honourable fight, you should’ve fought fair from the start.
The puppet continues to rise to its feet, shaking as it does. Its functioning arm gives out briefly but it's able to catch itself and continue its stand. It wrenches the saber free as it takes two steps back and raises it towards the Eldest.
Your move.
“Oh wow, check it out, Big Bro! Gepetto’s puppet wants another serving!”
It knows it’s cornered, and its hopes for a fair fight fades as the Youngest saunters over sporting the split lip that made her flee the battle to begin with. She’s grinning widely as she waves her victory prize high.
Gemini’s light almost makes it blinding to watch her approach, unable to fully see who all could be in front of it.
It’s the sound of splashing water from behind the puppet that gives away its would-be attacker’s ambush and it turns just in time to parry the attack, feeling the force of the blow but not taking any more damage. The space added from the attack’s knockback brings all four Rabbits into view, and it raises its saber once more.
“Looks like Mister Puppet ‘ere still thinks he has a chance.”
The three younger members begin to encircle the puppet, crossing one in front of the other as it struggles to follow where they all are.
I can finish this here, or I’ll fail and come back, however many times it takes.
You won’t have that luxury- once you’re gone I’ll bury in that coffin you made.
A wave of doubt washes over the puppet as its head sinks into an unfamiliar feeling. Its own body feels so foreign, as if it's watching this disaster of a fight through someone else’s eyes.
What’s happening to me? I’ve taken a lot of damage, and I’ve certainly lost a lot of oil but why am I hesitating? I know what needs to be done but I.. I want to run.
“Well? You going to move? Or just keep standin’ there like an idiot?”
Which one of you just said that?
“They really are cute when they’re confused” the Youngest’s voice is distinct, and a chilling sensation travels down the puppet’s spine as her words strike from behind.
It turns on its heel and nearly collapses after losing balance. Her laughter echoes in its mind, far longer than she probably did laugh.
The brotherhood dies here or I die trying.
The puppet chokes on unspoken words.
Why is it getting harder to breathe?
Its hand quivers as it struggles to keep the saber aimed at one of the rabbits- whichever is the one standing in its blurred vision. The one with the hand draped over his shoulder? Or is it the one with a bucket on his head? The puppet imagines this is how it feels to be underwater.
Sinking.
They’re all one entity anyways, it doesn’t matter which one is in front of me so long as I cut them down. All three stand against me.
The three figures that had gathered together blur as one before separating into a small army of leather clad thugs. Those two images keep fluctuating until the puppet can no longer discern which one is real.
Weren't there four of you earlier? My eyes are failing me.
It holds its ground, not wanting to give its fear away when more thoughts of doubt flood in.
What will happen to Gemini if I do fall here? He’s so far away, but is he too far? If I die without having him with me.. will I lose him?
It tries to focus on a red object hovering around the two rabbits, the only colour that stands out in the onslaught of rain. Unsure eyes follow it as it stalks closer..
Why do I have to die first? If she knows when I’ve died then surely she knows when I’m about to so why does she wait? Maybe her ability is limited. Why else wouldn’t she turn it back already?
I shouldn’t have blocked the attack- just learned from mistakes and tried again. Accepted that I wasn’t good enough. That without her pulling strings I couldn’t have lived up to father’s expectations so far.
“Hey, Pal- look out!” Gemini interrupts its thoughts with a desperate cry.
The Battle Maniac charges forward in the puppet’s hesitation, giving it little time to react to the lunge. To even the puppets' shock it parries the attack, stunning it’s opponent. As it swings for the fatal blow it experiences the renewed vigor of a winnable fight.
One down, three to go.
Before the attack is able to land, a heavy weight pummels the puppet’s shoulders, knocking the saber far away and it’s wielder breathlessly into the ground. It reaches quickly for its weapon but the Eccentric’s spear skewers the puppet’s right upper arm, effectively pinning it to where it’s fallen. The puppet chokes as the breath it had tried to take is once again forced from its body.
The Battle Maniac was just a distraction. Gemini was trying to warn me of the Eccentric. I didn’t notice he’d left my vision.
These eyes are useless- unable to focus. Father can fix this- upgrade them like my heart.
Or replace them.
The puppet feels the Eccentric wrench his weapon free, mangling its arm.
It doesn’t have time to catch its breath as hands roughly hook under its arms on either side and haul it upright and mercilessly drag it along the cobblestone. Its feet scramble to gain purchase and stand, but when it does succeed someone behind it kicks the back of its knee, toppling its full weight into the two rabbits hauling it away.
“Well and good to keep it down, dear sister, but try not to take us with it!” the Eccentric adjusts his grip on the puppet’s mangled arm after it had almost slipped from his grasp.
The world is spinning around it as it lifts its head enough to see the Liar’s Coffin inch closer with each step the brothers haul the puppet.
Are they getting heavier? Why are their footsteps so loud?
It begins to thrash against the brothers and feels its right fist collide with the Battle Maniac, who drops his hold on the puppet as he clutches his stomach.
The puppet gains its footing once again and manages to turn heel to face it’s attackers and before it can react, the form of the Eldest charging forward enters its vision. His hand grabs its shirt collar, harshly yanking it forward. As its feet leave the ground it’s thrown violently into the coffin, and strikes the back of it with enough force to topple it. The lid is slammed down and in an instant the puppet’s world has gone dark. It lays there in daze as the loud stomps of their boots grow louder until it feels the vibrations inside of its skull and chest.
“You did remember to bring the nails for this, yeah?” The Battle Maniac adjusts the placement of the lid.
“He better ‘ave, we’ll look stupid standing here if we have to wait” the Youngest delivers a half-hearted kick that rattles the puppet.
“You think I’d forget somethin’ so important? I think you’re forgetting who the brains of this operation is.” The sounds of scattering nails across the lids of the coffin ring in the puppet’s ears as the Eccentric continues “fourteen years and you still underestimate me.”
“Don’t make me laugh, you’d make a damn good technician but you lost a gun last week. Who knows where all these things end up” the Battle Maniac retorts.
With the rabbits distracted by their bickering, the puppet attempts to free itself from it’s prison. Even without its legion arm any puppet is still stronger than a human. It braces its knees and good arm against the coffin to pinpoint where the Battle Maniac is pinning the lid down. With only a short space to pull back, the puppet delivers a strong enough attack to knock the man off the coffin.
As it bolts upright, the shaft of the Eccentric’s polearm collides with its chest and winds it as it falls back into the coffin. It doesn’t bother to catch its breath as it strikes the lid of the coffin once again forced upon it that doesn’t move at all when it's struck.
“It’s getting feisty- you better nail that shut before we have round two, eh?”
“And just where do you think you’re going?” The puppet can hear the Battle Maniac finally getting up from the flooded cobblestone.
“Well,” the Eccentric’s footsteps slowly move away from the coffin, “it’s not every day someone breaks enough of our rules to get the death sentence. We put enough puppets on pikes, I say we get a bit creative for this. If those bastards at the hotel catch wind of it they wouldn’t dare send anything else here!” his voice oozes with excitement, “c’mon, dear sister! Going to need help with preparations!”
“Oh, sure. Anything to skip out of work, Eccentric.”
If I can get out of this it’ll at least be an easier fight. Defeat the Eldest and Battle Maniac, get the arm repaired-
It can hear the two rabbits trail away in the rain. Gemini’s voice calls out to the trapped puppet, shouting words of encouragement to break out of the coffin, and getting quieter as he’s taken away.
-and come back for Gemini.
It can understand the cricket’s desperation for it to win the fight, he’s there to guide it so the puppet stays on the right path, but he doesn’t seem to know they’ve lost fights before- he doesn’t remember it the way it does.
You need to be more worried that we won’t be together if I die. I don’t know what will happen to you.
I have to survive long enough to get you back.
What the puppet can’t understand is why it’s so desperate for this specific guide cricket back, one that was already described as unique by Sophia. There’s others that probably give better directions, more relevant information, and talk only as much as needed, but it wants that specific guide cricket- it needs that specific cricket who tells dumb jokes in dark alleys and makes fun of priests. It needs Gemini, and maybe once it has him back it’ll understand why it needs him so much.
Its attention is pulled back by the rhythmic thuds of a hammer hitting the coffin. The puppet beats back against the wood, in the shallow hope of dislodging the nail that was just hammered in.
Burying me won’t kill me, and when I get out you’ll learn just how cruel I can be too. Metal limbs can be replaced, flesh and bone can’t.
After only a few more knocks the puppet finds itself unable to use the arm to its full force, the spear hasn't damaged the joint- so what is this feeling in it that makes it hard to move? A stiffness builds up in its arm, a tension running a line from wrist to shoulder.
Is it a damaged wire doing this?
Every flex of the wrist or collision against wood sends shockwaves up the puppet's arm, further stiffening the joint, and catching the air in its cooling system.
Let me out you bastard.
“Hey now, you’ve already lost, the least you could do is make my life less difficult” the Battle Maniac’s condescending tone drips through the cracks of the wooden coffin.
I haven’t lost, you just don’t want to finish the fight.
With great struggle the puppet forces all of its remaining strength to push the lid off. Every part of its metal frame groans against the pressure.
The Eldest must be the one pushing down.
It sucks in a deep breath and presses even harder against the lid and sees a small ray of light seep in.
I am stronger, you just have the advantage.
If it was using its legion arm it’d probably have to worry about sparks coming off the grinder from the pressure but this is the puppets more ’human’ arm. It may be weaker but it doesn’t have to give up because of strain.
For a moment the lid is nearly pushed off, the counter-pressure disappearing before slamming back down with force the puppet couldn’t fathom.
All of the air in it’s body leaves with the shockwave it experiences when its arm slams against its chest.
At least it bent the way it was supposed to.
Catching its breath the puppet continues its barrage with it’s knees until they begin to send the same shockwaves throughout it’s body. It begins to claw at the coffin lid.
I have to get out before they finish sealing it.
“Those two’s plan is going to have to be quite the spectacle for this to be worth it. This stupid thing is almost more trouble that it’s worth- you hear that in there? Even without us you’d get scrapped sooner or later I bet, such an annoying puppet. You won’t be moving much longer in there, so enjoy it while you can!” Battle Maniac taunts, with two heavy hits to the coffin, “I think it’s ready for transport, would you do the honours, brother?
The puppet feels as if it’s floating for a moment, presuming it’s being lifted as if it weighs nothing by the Eldest. It can feel every step he takes reverberating through the coffin. Each step feels like a blow to the puppet’s already pounding head.
Those aren’t footsteps.
That’s the P-Organ.
Why is it acting up like this?
It resumes its assault on the coffin, now thrashing as it claws desperately against the lid, only stopping when the coffin suddenly sending the puppet flying upward- hitting it’s head sharply on the top of the coffin before being balanced again.
I can’t be in here anymore. I need Gemini. I need him to help me. He’d know what I need to do. Sophia, please, just end this- it’s dark, and it’s not ending.
The pounding in its head distracts the puppet from the sharp jolt of electricity running through its fingers as splinters of wood become wedged under its nails until it stops leaving scratch marks and starts to leave streaks of oil in their wake.
“Greetings once again to all the malcontents of the Malum District, no thanks to you we’ve successfully apprehended Gepetto’s pesky li’l puppet who has been pillaging our fair streets. If you would care to join us for it’s execution via the Liar’s Coffin, be sure to make your way past the Red Lobster Inn and through that one alley- you know the one. Make sure you’re quick about it, the coffin is on its way!” the Eccentric laughs through his megaphone.
The puppet no longer knows where it is in time and space. Deeper in the Malum District? En route back to the Red Lobster? Does it matter? Whatever the Brotherhood has in store next can’t be worse than this. Beaten and discarded in a box, like a child’s toy that has lost its purpose.
It sucks in a breath as it stops its clawing against the lid, allowing its hand to glide slowly across the slick surface dropping down on it. The oil runs up its arm and clings to its sleeve as it spreads through the coat.
If I come back I’m taking your coat as compensation.
‘When’. When I come back.
It raises its hand to its teeth and bitting down on the tips of the splinters it slowly works at removing them. The task sends more shocks through its fingers and the feeling of oil on its lips makes it cringe. Pulling the front of its coat up it tries to wipe the oil away as several of the splinters are pushed deeper.
Turning it’s head, it tries to find a gap in the wood, any way to see the outside of it’s prison. Hoping for an opportunity to break out to come by.
By the time it’s able to find one large enough to see through, it's been taken into a dark alley, and it’s mission once again proven pointless. The Eldest’s boots begin to wade through a deeper amount of water.
Am I being submerged in a waterway? Is that where we’re going?
My breathing is for cooling regulation, the water would just replace that system. I can’t imagine it being good for my metal components, but it wouldn’t be the end. If that happens I could wait until they’re gone and open the coffin then.
Its breath hitches as it imagines the water flooding in through small cracks in the wood. As heavy as the puppet is it would likely float on the water in the coffin, they’d have to weigh it down.
But if they weigh it down how could I open it?
Evidently, drowning will not be the rabbits method of execution. The sounds of sloshing water stop and the hulking figure continues to stomp along the cobblestone.
Outside of the coffin the streets seem brighter than they should be, it's like every streetlight is on. It catches a glimpse of a large circular light facing the direction the Eldest is carrying it.
Is that a spotlight?
It feels itself go higher, the creaking of wood from the weight of both the rabbit and the puppet gives it hope that maybe they’ll fall through, granting the puppet another chance at escape.
The coffin is dropped suddenly and stood upright- the puppet being flung towards the lid that no longer budges, its forehead slamming into the old wood. It can feel the skin tear and raises its hand to run along the damage as a single drop of oil runs from the wound.
So much for not losing any more..
Rain continues to pour. The hammering from the P-Organ in the puppets chest continues, and is now accompanied by the actual sounds of heavy boots circling the coffin. Creaking from the wood under them tears at every nerve in the puppet’s body.
It thinks it hears the cricket calling out to it, but can’t hear it over all the sounds already assaulting it.
Perhaps that’s why Sophia hasn’t rewound time: their connection was based on knowing where the puppet is and with the cacophony of noise she can’t find it. Assuming that’s how their connection works, which it has no way of knowing.
Does this mean I won’t come back or does this mean I can’t die?
Will anything ever end or is this what I’m cursed to live like now? I don’t want everything to end yet though, even if it does get me out of here. I don’t want everything to be over.
Father will be saddened, and so will others back at the hotel. Even if we’ve only known each other for a short period of time: they all rely on me.
They’re all counting on me to end this.
Its breathing becomes rapid, as if all the air has left the coffin.
I want Gemini here.
Being built to appear human without being one, and built to obey without the Grand Covenant makes it difficult for the puppet to understand its own thoughts. The fog that hangs over it and the dread it's sinking in only clouds its mind further. It was easier when the feelings were so foreign it could push them back to the recesses of its mind and focus on the task at hand.
It shouldn’t be trying to hold on. The cricket guide is useful but it can replace it, and the physical damage can be undone with replacements.
Its hand slides into the pocket hidden in the lining of its coat. The puppet had found it the right size to store an item it had avoided using until now.
Last Resort.
Or at least that’s the name that comes to its mind when it thinks of it. It’s P-Organ begins to slam harder against the plating in and over it’s chest as it retrieves the small red disk from its pocket. Its thumb slides over the smooth surface, not quite sure how to use it.
Do I press it? Break it?
Despite knowing there's nothing left it can do, it hesitates. Tracing along the edge of the red glow over and over, turning it over in its hand unsure of why it hasn’t brought upon its own end yet.
Not an end- another chance.
It crushes its eyelids closed and feels every spring and hydraulic in its arm seize, all except for the ones in its hand, now shaking as it holds the small object.
The self-proclaimed Battle Maniac begins an introduction.
“And here I was thinking we’d have a larger crowd.. No matter, it’s not the size of the audience. It is the-” a sharp jolt of electricity spreads through the puppets right side, “impact of the show”.
For a moment the puppet sees a blinding white in the darkness and Last Resort slips from its fingers as its hands claw for the injury. Without it’s vision it flounders to find the source of the unpleasant sensation. All of the air contained within it’s cooling system catches in the puppet’s throat as it desperately gasps for air. A finger glides along a sword that the puppet finds lodged firmly into it’s right side.
I’ve taken worse damage before, but this.. I shouldn’t feel this. I shouldn’t feel anything.
And the electricity is spreading.
The puppet grips the blade and begins to try and pull it free from it’s torso. Its palm slips and glides along the sharp edges, wetting it in oil as the electrical shock spreads to it’s hand, the blade no closer to being removed.
It can’t be the sword, it would’ve stopped by now. The electrical shocks are coming from me.
Another sword strikes the wood but fails to pierce through to the puppet’s relief.
“ ‘Haps we ought to use the Liar’s Coffin more if your aim is as rusty as that sword, dear sister, let me show you ‘ow it’s done” the Eccentric hollers as a thin piece of metal- a rapier? Pierces the puppets left thigh, thankfully missing any major components, but the feeling of torn synthetic flesh hurts more than it could’ve imagined.
‘Hurts’ that’s the word, it hurts. It hurts so much.
Everything hurts.
Memories of previous fights flood the puppet’s mind. Being crushed by the Parade Master or burned by Fuoco never ‘hurt’. They slowed the puppet down, or stopped it all together but never ‘hurt’ the puppet. The puppet has lost many times and felt nothing but frustration when it did.
Nothing ever hurt.
Without pause or delay another sword enters the coffin, piercing through the joint of the puppet’s right knee. It twists slowly, turning enough for the metal to bend but not break, and it is agonizing.
Is it still connected?
The blade had gone perfectly between the plates designed to look like skin, and was firmly lodged just below the seizing hydraulic press. Moving its toes it can feel the leg is still attached and active, but for how long? Applying any weight to it would probably cripple it.
How could I run even if I did get out?
It regrets coming to the Malum District. It can’t even remember what it came here for anymore, whatever it is this pain isn’t worth it. What would Gepetto think? His creation is unable to fulfill the task it had been set out for, because it learned what happens when it trusts strangers to have its back, what happens when it picks a fight it can’t win, what happens when it isn’t allowed to die, and what ‘pain’ is.
“You have to stop- you’ll kill him!” Gemini cried
Perhaps in this moment the puppet could learn to cry too, for all it’s agony it felt a sliver of joy that it’s companion is still nearby and fighting for it in the only way he can.
“That’s the whole point, and if you don’t shut up, cricket, that lamp of yours becomes an iron maiden too-” the Battle Maniac called, cut off by the puppets fist hitting the coffin. It wasn’t as loud as previous strikes, but it was enough to draw the attention back of the rabbit.
“I don’t care what you threaten me with! You’re the ones who picked a fight with us” Gemini retorted.
“Which arm was the still working one? His right arm? Perfect, I’ve got just the right blade for that,” the Battle Maniac ignores Gemini, and thrust a rapier through the coffin. The puppet isn’t sure if it’s intentional but it follows the same path as the Eccentric’s spear, through the gap in its arm but he doesn’t stop there.
The thin, cylindrical shape of the blade finds no resistance as it’s pressed slowly into the puppet. It breaks the skin along its ‘rib cage’ and sinks further into the puppet until the hilt hits the side of the coffin. The tip of the blade presses against its ‘lung’ but miraculously doesn’t break through, although by this point the puppet would’ve been more grateful if it had.
It throws its head against the back of the coffin, a silent scream escapes its throat that the rabbit would’ve loved to hear if the puppet had a voice. Not a moment allows the puppet to catch its breath, taken away by the pain that only digs deeper.
“Little puppet, you’re going to regret stepping foot on our turf” the Battle Maniacs voice was low, “stop all your banging around in there and maybe I’ll spare your tiny friend, but I don’t want another peep out of you.”
It’s to the detriment of both puppets that it can’t give up its fight, but now faced with no choice it surrenders itself to their torment. It doesn’t understand what this attachment is to the cricket, but it knows it doesn’t want to lose him. If that means it has to suffer more then so be it.
Maybe he’ll live and I’ll just have to take him back when I beat the rabbits next time.
Sophia is the one abandoning them to this fate, the clock could’ve been rewound so many times by now and yet both puppets are still here in this macabre show,
I thought you said you’d help me. Take me away from here- please!
Another sword slides through one of the gaps in the box, piercing from the left side of it’s collarbone and out of its back, narrowly missing the puppets spine with its crooked angle. It wants to cry.
It wants it’s father to hold it and tell it none of this ever happened- that this is just someone else’s memory.
Someone save me.
The barrage of swords came one after the other, some with a taunt, some ricocheting off the coffin until it’s wielder finds it’s mark. Footsteps and laughter surrounded the coffin and soon the puppet couldn’t tell who had pierced the coffin next except for the Eldest. He stalked around the coffin except for the foreboding steps, an equal participant even if he didn’t laugh or mock the puppet like the others- the swords he’s choosing are often the sharpest. They don’t tear its skin. Just a single clean stab, and they’re thrust with enough force that the wounds barely ‘bleed’, the blades themselves acting as tourniquets.
By the time they stop the puppet is unsure if it could move any of it’s limbs, even if it were to be freed this very second. It wonders if it was on purpose that it was left alive in this tomb. Every sharp pain that has torn through the puppet’s body has dulled.
Speak to me, Sophia.
At least pity me enough to say you’re abandoning Gemini and I. Say it’s because I wasn’t as strong as you hoped. Tell me about how I’m failing the entire city. Is this what you woke me up for? To live a short and cruel life: the fastest path to feeling human.
For a moment it feels guilty for its silent outburst. It knows the word well: it hangs over everyone back at the hotel. Sophia could be in danger herself, and the puppet would never know. She could be calling for help and cursing it just as it’s doing to her.
But she’s still at the hotel. She’s safe there, and I know the hotel is safe
The puppet’s head feels deeper ‘underwater’ than previously, and what little it can feel with it’s remaining hand feels slick with oil. It will run out soon enough, and Sophia will turn back time as she always does, so it can try again before it all went so wrong.
I’ve never died by exsanguination.
The rabbits are once again speaking, but the puppet can’t focus on whose voice it hears or what they’re saying. It swears it can hear Gemini through the fog, but it’s not sure. It goes to push against the lid again but thinks better of it.
If I knock they’ll hurt Gemini. I can hear him still. The rabbits are awful but they’re keeping their end of the deal. I can’t move or they’ll hurt him.
Even if the puppet went through with it’s last act of defiance it can barely move it’s hand, like there’s strings pulling it back down even when it tries to lift a single finger. The same string takes a hold of it’s head, pulling it down into darkness.
I wonder if I’ll wake up from this death...
…
When the puppet regains some of it’s senses it’s lying on it’s back again, although somewhat suspended by the swords still piercing through it. It still remains in the coffin, and far from the safety of a Stargazer.
There’s nothing I can do. If I can get their attention maybe one will finally end it, and I can go back with Gemini.
Amazed to find it still has the strength to move its right hand, it struggles to lift it to knock against the wooden frame. The puppet’s knuckles barely scrape the coffin lid before falling again, creating at least some sort of thud. It repeats the motion until it feels one of the swords dig deeper into its side.
I wasn’t supposed to fight back- I wasn’t supposed to. Gemini, please be alright. Please don’t hurt him.
“I thought our deal was you stop making so much noise, puppet” The Battle Maniac spat, “but I guess I should commend you for surviving all that. You sure as hell aren’t going to be surviving this. Who’s got the cricket? Let it say a last goodbye, can’t save itself anyways.”
“You growing soft, brother?” the Youngest says, muddy boots approaching the coffin. A thud of metal against wood resonates over the puppets face.
“You’re seriously still alive in there? What are you waiting for? Use that arm of yours and get out- I know you can do it! Uh, right?” Gemini’s chirps dampened “I don’t want this to be the end for you, Pal. You deserve better than this, I wish I could something”
Please just stay. Don’t let them take you away. I don’t want to be alone in here.
It wished it could call out to it’s friend, but like all of their conversations Gemini had to carry all of the words. In other situations this was fine, the cricket loved to talk and the puppet came to enjoy listening. It couldn’t speak but it did its best to respond to cricket with its actions, trying to imitate expressions it had seen on its other companions back at the hotel.
When Gemini had done his spiel about St. Frangelico on the tram going to the church, the puppet had tried to laugh. It had heard Eugenie laugh a few times while excitedly talking about her work. But when the puppet tried to laugh without a voice it couldn’t figure out how to contort its face right, and to both it and the crickets dismay it came across as annoyed. Gemini hadn’t tried improv anywhere close to that performance in the brief time since, only commenting on the carcasses and path.
The puppet lifts it’s hand again, not quite able to reach the same height as before, and lets it fall with another faint thud.
“I hear you, Pal, please don’t worry anymore” Gemini spoke softly.
The puppet could hear the rabbits further back having their own discussion in hushed tones .
“Do you think they actually feel anything? Or do they just happen to have all the right phrases placed into them that just happen to work?” the Youngest didn’t bother to quiet her tone like the others.
“Shoulda found a different way of execution, it woulda been fun to pick Gepetto’s puppet apart. He certainly programmed it weirdly enough,” the Eccentric continues, “almost like it has a personality.”
“You don’t know the first damn thing about puppets, where’s this new interest coming from?” the Battle Maniac interjects.
“Taken ‘nough apart with my spear to know they all have the same basic inner workings and an Ergo core.” the Eccentric pauses for effect, “that one in the coffin could pass as a person if you couldn’t hear its gears turning- say ‘Tonio, didn’t you know that bastard’s son? Doesn’t that look like ‘im?”
There’s pause in the conversation.
Who do I look like? Is this what Antonia was talking about?
“I didn’t know him then and it doesn’t matter now, does it? Old man’s a creep, we already know that, it’s nothing new. He probably did that very consciously but it doesn’t even look right. It’s more of a doll than anything.”
No, no, I need to know. We won’t get a chance to speak again once I’m buried. I’ll either die or I won’t but if I die we’ll be fighting again. Tell me who you think I look like.
No one will tell me anything.
“This is stupid, I’m not standing out here in the rain anymore. We get it buried and then we get drinks. Big Bro, let’s go already!” The Youngest is growing impatient with her brothers’ delay and retrieves the lamp from the coffin.
No! Please don’t take him!
As its hand raises to knock against the lid with the meager amount of renewed vigor it has, the coffin is dragging along the mud with loose rocks scraping against it. Slow and consistent at first, but it would appear the other rabbits have joined in moving the coffin.
“Make sure the ropes stay in place, yeah? I want this coffin back when we need it again” the Battle Maniac says.
“Ew! You can’t be serious!?”
“Why not? It’s not like it’s a dead body- it’s a glorified toy soldier with his sword! We leave it ‘til we need it, then dump the li’l puppet out of its li’l toy box. Also it’s a pain in the ass to find another one this strong, I don’t think Pietro wants to haul another one back- probably none left anyways. Saw some lying in the streets last I was in the city but I can’t imagine they’re empty- and those ones would have rotting bodies in ‘em. Now grab your rope and pull- or give it to Eccentric, he’s not doing much.”
They rearrange themselves before the coffin resumes its dragging along the ground. Slowly the puppet begins to feel weightless again, like when the Eldest was carrying it.
It feels every jolt of a rope slip and every catch of a sword getting stuck in mud on the way down and it takes the puppet’s breath away every time. The slow descent reawakening the pain in its open wounds.
The coffin is dropped the last foot or so of the fall and the air is knocked from the puppet’s slowly failing cooling system once again. It hears the sound of ropes rapidly coiling on the lid, followed by the rhythmic sound of metal hitting dirt and that dirt hitting the wood in front of the puppet’s eyes.
The hammering in it’s chest is gone, replaced by a weaker-by-the-second thump.
I’m shutting down.
Maybe now Sophia will take me away, and Gemini and I can wake up at the Stargazer. I want to forget the Frenzy, and the rabbits, I want to sit under the light of the Stargazer in the hotel and listen to the records. However many times it takes for me to forget this.
I didn’t feel pain when I woke up. Nothing felt like anything until I told that door I was ‘human’. It was just my springs reacting against broken laws they’re not bound by. Nothing else should’ve happened, despite what Sophia said about me being a ‘special’ puppet, I am still just a puppet.
I shouldn’t know what ‘pain’ is or how ‘guilt’ feels. I shouldn’t be feeling anything from this- certainly not companionship with a navigation tool. But he was given a name when he was made, and he speaks like he has a past. If I never saw his form I would call him ‘human’. I am no such thing even if I was built to look like one. We are both metal cages filled with Ergo.
Nothing more and nothing less.
The sounds of what being buried in what could be considered ‘alive’ for a human begins to fade. Either the rabbits are working fast or the puppets' sensors are finally powering down for the last time. It closes its eyes and lets the darkness consume it entirely.