Strings Not Attached

Enrich Toulon

"Please, no, you don't have to do this-" 

It was almost like time stopped at that moment. Blade could barely see through the blood and gore on his being, his 'mind' racing. A Nazi, no, a boy...? The boy was a Nazi. The red and black insignia on his shoulder clued in to this fact, along with the gun at his side. Toulon, his master, was on his knees begging for mercy, and other words the puppet could not hear. Was he in danger? Of course he was, they all were. If he didn't do something, this evil boy would slaughter their master, and they would be in the hands of the very people they had been opposing. Toulon had always stressed the importance of staying away from the Nazis, even if they were for reasons non of the puppets had been told. Blade wasn't the first, but he had always been the one to take charge. Toulon looked pained, and he was talking faster now. If he didn't do something, they would be in deep shit. Blade felt his blood soaked knife and lunged forward, emerging from the shadows where he had been hiding. Toulon spotted him, and in that split second, it seemed as if time stopped. 

"No, Hess, no-!"

....

The day Torch was assembled was a rainy Sunday afternoon. Blade watched as Toulon carefully crafted his face and body, making sure to sew his outfit by hand. It looked familiar, as if Blade had seen it before. The flamethrower attached to his arm was new, and a little exciting to the puppets, who had now gathered around their master's desk. Of course, Blade stayed back in the shadows. Torch was just like the rest of them when they started moving; confused and a little violent. Of course he calmed down quickly once Toulon commanded him too. Toulon had a twinkle in his eye, almost as if they were tears of some sort.

Toulon reached out and lifted the warm puppet into his hands delicately as if he were holding a flower. And yet Torch looked back as if he were viewing something disgusting, his little porcelain hand pushing at the man's fleshy one. Toulon laughed as if he had been told a bad joke, and leaned forward, whispering to the newly made member of the team.

"בני"

....

Blade was slow, but Torch was slower. The slimmer puppet sliced into Torch's arm and watched as the hot puppet got even hotter. Torch's eyes were piercing red, and his mouth opened, almost as if he wanted to yell at Blade. Their fight, how long had it been going on for? Blade couldn't remember. He was tired, and he wanted to stop, but Torch didn't. Torch could keep going for hours if he had to. The house was on fire, and everything was collapsing at this point. Blade stopped, moving from an offensive position to backing up away from Torch. The puppet didn't want to let go. He didn't forget. And now he was out for blood. Torch moved forward, his hand shaking with rage.

-

"Enrich, please come home my son-"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"No, please, come home... You don't have to do this! Your mother needs you, I need you!"

"No! Shut up you- you dirty Jew!"

-

Torch lunged forward and slapped Blade across the face, sending the other puppet to the ground. Blade looked fearful as the executioner stood over him. Enrich Toulon never forgot, and he never forgave. As the blazing inferno raged around them, Blade's fate was clear. He was going to die here. The only thing he wished he could do was shut his eyes as the flamethrower was pointed in his face. For a moment there was nothing but silence, and then everything went black.