There was darkness all around them. And then a match was struck. It offered little light, the small flame so precarious, so fragile in the darkness that surrounded it. If left by itself, the darkness would consume the light.

"Heeheeee." A sound broke the silence, drawing the older male's gray eyes upon it. What greeted his sight was something that he wouldn't have expected. It was a grotesque puppet. The puppet's eyes slanted inwards, red glowing eyes set in the midst of darkness. The mouth opened to reveal it's white teeth glimmered in a feral grin, as the limbs seemed to be distorted - disjointed by the strings that held it up. Ragged hair piled itself on top of it's head, as Seth observed it. He didn't even like puppets.

"You've always been playing the fool for your parents." The puppet began off.

"You wasted your life. Your desires have always gone unfulfilled." Evening after evening of boredom, as Seth stood there in the ballroom. He had to endure these events, which held no interest for him.

"You waited for your father. Over, and over - consistently hoping. But it failed, like it always did." A boy who sat on the chair, waiting. He had been waiting for hours near the Christmas tree was filled with presents. But there was no loving family as there should have been. Instead, there was his mother talking in whispers over the phone, cupping her hand over the receiver so that the little boy wouldn't hear. "You promised, dear." She said dismayed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Next time, Alexis."

"And your mother, your sweet mother." A picture of the lower half of his mother's face appeared, the soft light shining behind her.

Seth yawned, just really wanting to go back to sleep. The puppet raised an eyebrow. Not yet. Not yet. It could do this. The puppet advanced, a shroud of darkness enveloping the puppet. The tendrils of darkness hissed, curling around, as if it had a life of its own. It had only taken a moment when a form that mirrored Seth stood in front of him. It was almost identical.. if it wasn't for the red glow of his eyes.

"Do you prefer this form better?" He asked in a taunting tone, seeming to relish his human form. He held out his hand, curling his fingers in a fist. So this was how a body felt? Pretty nice..

Seth however, was not so amused now. "It sickens me to look at you." It was disgusting to see his face on that thing. His hand reached out - BAM! Seth's hand was choking the puppet's throat, his patience sorely tried. "Don't." His hand tightened, but the imposter merely smiled as if it knew something Seth didn't.

"Ah. Your violence shows itself." It laughed, a deranged laugh that sounded like nails on a chalkboard. The puppet continued, "When you fight, you enjoy it, don't you? The feeling when you tear apart their bodies, when you can taste their blood?" The sickening stench of blood filled the air, and Seth's bloodlust didn't diminish.

Seth didn't speak. And so, the puppet grinned. "Let me introduce a new topic. You know that something is strange in Destiny City. Those corpses? The people in comas? It isn't normal. But you refuse, refuse to believe in it. To acknowledge it."

"It has nothing to do with me." If it didn't concern the male, he didn't take part in it. "Whether those people live or die is irrelevant to me." That was simply how it worked. The copy only shook his head. "You believe that you can remain ignorant. But let's see how long you can last. For better or for worse.." The foreboding words lent itself an echo that amplified his words.

He had his head held down, as irritated words made its way out of his mouth. "..ying. Annoying. You keep going on, and on. I don't understand what you've been saying," He cocked his head, a frown and intense glare. He couldn't stand it. "But it's pissing me off."

Seth's hand tightened, until the wood beneath his hand began to splinter. A crack was making it's way from the throat to the side of its face. It splintered, cracked, until it finally broke. The limp body fell, now headless. "You can't escape.." It's laughing voice surrounded Seth, as the remnants of wood drop to the ground in a pile. Seth opened his hand, letting the final pieces of wood fall.

"Don't think that I'm intimidated that easily." His foot stepped over it's head, crushing it as he rubbed the sole of his foot to finish the job.

"You goddamned puppet. You've had your turn. And I'll have mine."

--

Seth woke up from his nap upon the rooftop, feeling dis-settled. His hand went to his forehead, as if he had to recall what had happened. And when it did? "I hate puppets."


(Word Count: 80 cool