I wanted to throw this in as well, I used to be the CFO of a small phone-app company (see any android device, RX Defender company Triumvirate Studios now defunct), don't download it that bank account it also defunct lol. Anyway, I love to write and after my company dissolved this past August I wanted to keep making games with my artist, but we have failed to do anything, this is a story we basically came up with watching some Tool videos. I wanted to make a video game out of this one, but it never happened.
In this drawer i woke into darkness, my life wasnt always simple but never was it this difficult. I understood my role as the master's toy, the puppet of its only joy and I loved being the main character in his depraved story. One day my drawer opened up into madness my face disfigured, my limbs removed save my smaller weakened arm, and my fear screaming for the nightmare to end. For an instant i thought the nightmare was over, drawer opened and master appeared, but his face was not one of joy, but of sorrow. The drawer closed as quickly as it opened and the fear became anger. Pulling myself along in the darkness I found the drawer's edge and pushed. Pain was almost as good as the joy of my former life, it soared through what remained of my mangled form. Forcing the drawer open I could hear a humming that sounded like honeybees trapped in a drum. Peering over the edge I saw the workshop, the play area where I once was king now strewn with all kinds of parts and new toys the master obviously intended to make his own. The floor strewn with similar puppets with no names, some alive, some insane. This was my time, this was my game to play, and Id win. Pushing the drawer a little further, I climbed out and fell to the floor. Darkness consumes me.
Awake. The smell of burning wax stings my nose, I look over and see a small female doll with smeared paint and no arms and one eye. She peers out almost begging for death but says nothing. I crawl towards her and she watches intently saying nothing. When I reach her she almost smiles and I whisper, 'This is not because I hate you.' She sighs, nods and I rip her head from her small frail form. Next I remove her legs and realize the feet are scarred, burnt and useless. If I felt grief I might have cried, instead I ripped the feet off throwing them next to the one eyed head which now smiled in its death gaze. I look up and see a drawer open, if the legs had feet I'd be able to reach it, but not yet. I continue on, there are other drawers.
Flesh. This little wax man so lifelike and almost a puppet but missing the marks that make a puppet a toy. His plastic parts discarded somewhere amongst the wasteland of the workshop. He has no eyes, yet perceives me and his anger is manifest. He attacks in short, choppy punches and kicks. I smash him with no intention but to bring peace to his violence. Hollow creatures like him only find peace by obtaining revenge for being born. Smashed I almost know sadness, I never wanted this and would have let him live, he had nothing I needed. Something, wait, yes his flesh hold something small and black. A key, yes a key to a drawer, but which drawer there are so many locked ones. Thank you my dear friend, I pack his meat into a small cross, like the one that hung from masters neck. I hope it means something good, for he was evil.
Pain. An open drawer, empty save a small vile of puppet lacquer used to strengthen our plastic parts. I take it as the cracks of my age and use can no longer hide. I stand on the edge and attempt to open the adjacent drawer which opens and allows me to climb up to another level. Inside are 2 puppets in a grotesque pose of rapture. The description of love would not make sense for two being combined by wood glue to fuse 2 into a centipede one. One armed puppet cut in half sitting on the back of his brother puppet who had no head and walked on arms and legs, like a headless horse and its bottomless horseman. Upon seeing me the horseman shrieked, and the horse walked toward me. Arms stretching out, the glue dripping down like wax off a candle, it approached. I wanted to keep going, but the horse brother's feet looked useful. The horseman shrieked and violence was his intention, for all the pain suffered he and his mute conjoined brother would have their vengeance on any who crossed their path. They were like my brothers. "Please know I understand," i said quietly as I destroyed them, brining peace to their tortured souls by separating them to pieces. My prized feet weren't so prized, one was so worn it wasnt even a nub, the other still had its faint outline and could be used, but what's one leg and foot without its brother?
Savior. The tower of drawers brought me to a lofty view of the workshop and I could see another set of drawers across from the hall of homes this realm of puppets share. In a small corner I could see a bunch of dolls of all sorts piled, but smoldering forever forgotten, the graveyard of silence. "How peaceful it all seems" i thought as i heard a sound below me in a half opened drawer. It was a small old doll mostly used for decoration in studio scenes. Blood suit seemed to be his color, but i must be imagining things, this sort doesnt bleed. I dropped down to his level and he whispered, "Oh harbinger of destruction can you have pity here today? I only wish to die tomorrow for there still may be a chance for one more scene. The master comes tomorrow I know" My desire to end this poor bloodsuit's small puppet life was exceeded by a desire to know of the master. "Tomorrow?" "Yes tomorrow is his time for his show, his desire must be sated and we must assemble correctly or dying will be pity compared to what he will do." "What do you need bloodsuit?" "That lacquer will sate me, bring me round one more time." This bloodsuit i should destroy, his pain is nothing more than an inconvenience, but my path finds keys to a center I must know. The show must go on. Lacquer wasted on no one, time wasted on a vain pursuit, but better to know if truth can be found in bloodsuits.