The Tale of Lianna, the Female Puppet

More Pain...More Hooks

Lianna's POV:

It was the second day on the job. Same old process. Give gifts, tell them stories and sing them songs. Already, a group of 6 children showed up. Three boys, three girls. I guess they came for a story because, no one had tickets. And one of the boys wanted a story. I decided to tell them the story of
"The Three Little Pigs."

Once upon a time, there lived three pigs. One had a house of straw, one had a house of sticks and one had a house of bricks.

Then one day, a wolf came and knocked on the door of the first pigs house. "Little pigs, little pigs, let me in!" Said the wolf. "Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!" Said the pig. But the wolf huffed and puffed until the house blew down.

The first little piggy ran to the second pigs house. The wolf cried; "Little pigs! Little pigs! Let me in!" Then the two pigs said; "Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin." But once again, the wolf huffed and puffed and the house was knocked down.

The two little piggies ran to the third pig's house. "Little pigs! Little pigs! Let me in!" The wolf cried. "Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!" The pigs cried. The wolf tried to huff and puff but the house wouldn't blow over. Then the three pigs huffed and puffed and blew away the wolf. The three pigs lived happily ever after.

The End.

After the story, the children left. Then Vincent came over. His white smile was beaming like usual. Like something bad was going to happen to me. "Lianna, I forgot that your feet don't have string to them. We can just add the strings so they can stay on forever, no need to attach and detach your strings to get in and out of your box." He said, happily.

I remember the time when he first gave me the strings. The time he murdered me and stabbed hooks into my wrists. "No. No. No. No. No. No!" I cried. I didn't want to suffer having the hooks into me again. It is painful and dangerous. I suddenly felt myself being picked up by him. He closed the lid of my empty box and carried me to the backroom. "Hey Mr. Where are you taking the female puppet?" Some kid asked. "Don't worry child. I am just taking her to the workshop to fix her up. She's broken a little." Vincent lied. He took me into the room and locked the door.

When we got there, he layed me on the table in the middle of the room. It was cold, hard and felt like it was made of metal. He then went to a box of small hooks and picked out 2 hooks; laying one on a small table by the side of the table I was on. The took the first hook and stabbed it into my left stub or my used to been, foot.

"Why? Why? I don't wanna do this! Help me please!" I cried. He was just wispered to me, "Shut up. Just shut up!" Then he took the other hook and stabbed them into my other stub or my foot. Black tears have spilled through the eye holes of my mask. He then left to get a box of stings. He took a pair of extremely long strings and tied them to the hooks on my stubs.

Then he took the strings attached to my wrists and attaches them to some wood. "Now my little puppet. You can dance wonderfully with the strings attached to you." Vincent cooed. He started to control the wood and make me dance. So this was what it was like being a puppet. Forced to do what your master makes you do. With strings that can allow my movement but at the cost keeping me chained in my box. Plus to wear a mask that's cute yet creepy to hide my face from the public.

Then Vincent picked me up and moved me back to my prison. I just was giving more gifts to children before the sun sets.

Vincent's POV:

Finally my little doll can finally be able to not take time to put on her leg strings to move around at night. I think she should meet that one other puppet, the one who was my previous slave. Marionette.