Chained Puppet

The Mysterious Puppeteer

Sometime Before the Fire

Anti stared up at his ceiling, blindly sharpening his favorite knife. He was deep in thought but there was no way he'd actually cut himself.

The sound of metal on metal sent shivers down his spine but it was also soothing to him. He was laying on his floor but that didn't matter to him. It was pretty warm outside and the floor was cool. His apartments didn't have air conditioning.

He lived alone most of the time but whenever he felt lonely, he'd stare outside and watch people. He was always told to stay inside. Being social wouldn't do anything for him. If he went outside, then they'd catch him and cart him away for everything he's done. Everything he was and what HE made him do.

It's not like he wanted to do it. He had him on strings. Ones he couldn't break. But then again, wasn't their pain satisfying?

Anti sighed and threw his knife up at the ceiling so hard it stuck there. But he just laid still as if waiting for it to fall back down and stab him in the head.

And they deserved it, right? Everything he did. . . .  that's what HE said, after all. 

Anti just existed and they painted him as the bad guy. . . . so then why not take that role? The fans loved him anyways, right? That's all that mattered.

Even if they didn't know he really existed.

Anti grunted and sat up as the knife slipped out of the ceiling and landed next to him. He hummed and picked it up as he stood, walking to his small kitchen. It wasn't much but then again his 'friend' promised to bring him some more things so he wouldn't starve. 

He took out another package of ramen and started to cook it up. 

While he was cooking, he thought to himself how his life ended up this way. But then again, he couldn't find himself to care. He was living and that was enough for him.

Was he really living, though?

When his food was done, he slopped it in a bowl and went to sit on his mattress on the floor. Anti lived in a dirty, cheap studio apartment but he couldn't afford anything, really because guess what? He didn't have a job. Why didn't he have a job? Because Jackie was hunting him like a dog, looking for him EVERYWHERE and as long as he stayed indoors, he couldn't find him.

HE kept him safe and bought things as necessary. . . .  as long as Anti did as he was told.

He didn't like the idea but it wasn't as if Anti had a choice in the matter. Sometimes, he even liked the things he had him do like steal from ATMs for him, hack into a bank account or online store. And HE would keep him safe. That was the deal.

Anti didn't know exactly what the man actually wanted or was after but he knew he needed him. Why else would he go through all this trouble for him? Right?

He was needed.

When he was done with his ramen and gawking out the window, there was a knock on his door. Putting his bowl in the sink, he cautiously went to peek at who was there only to see it was him.

Unlocking the locks, he opened the door, "Where the fuck have you been?"

"None of your business." he shoved passed Anti, "Shut the damn door"

Anti rolled his eyes but did as he was told.

He watched as the man took off his hood and grinned at Anti, "Plans have changed, I'm afraid."