What are good puppets made of?
They are made of good wood, the best kind. Hard yet soft, willing to bend to its crafter's will.
They are made of high quality paint. It has to dry fast and not be washed away by water. It has to keep its pigment even after years and years of use.
They are made of hair, oh, such beautiful and silky hair. You could find the best strands in hair salons where fine ladies and foolish lads sold them for good money.
They are made of clothes. The clothes were really important. They had to fit perfectly and look beautiful. Clothes were like the cherry on top of the finest cake.
However, no puppet could be made without the best kind of puppet maker. The maker had to give their all to the work, their soul, their time, their passion, their life. But what was a doll if it couldn't return the love from its owner? It would just be a soulless wooden shell, no life in its eyes, no movement in its joints. That was a problem when one tried to craft a perfect puppet.
The problem was solved however when one young, skilled puppet maker found a way. Just a gentle touch and a few words, that was all that was required to make a perfect puppet.
Clever hands were giving finishing touches here and there. A paint brush was being moved gently over pale, wooden cheeks to add a rosy glow to them. When the cheeks were done, a different brush was used on the full lips, painting them blood red. Then adjusting the clothes, fixing the bowtie, and dusting the shoulders. The doll was ready.
A green haired man pulled his hands away and let his eyes roam over the figure of the puppet. It was good, but not perfect, not just yet. The man walked over to his messy work desk and pulled out an old worn book protected by hard leather covers. He flicked to the right page before reading the words out loud from the yellowish vellum in a steady, deep voice that rumbled in the candlelit room.
"Aknuk El Vira mismantos knitos eferma litos varom merda."
There was a rush of hot air around the man rushing towards the lifeless puppet in a big armchair in the middle of the room. Then there was a crack, then another, then more. The man stared intensely at the puppet, holding his breath. This was the first time he tried this type of puppet crafting, and it was working. It was working! Just one more crack and creak and it was over, the room was silent again.
The puppet maker let out a shaky breath as he saw his beautiful creation moving. It blinked its hazy eyes, parted its painted lips and tilted its perfect head. It eyed the man before it, eyes slowly filling with life. They remained slightly blank however, it's a puppet after all, not a human.
"Welcome to life, my friend," the green haired man said, closing the grimoire in his hand. "You may call me Zoro, your creator, and you may call yourself… Sanji. That's your name from now on."
Sanji blinked slowly before repeating the names in a hollow voice thanks to the voice mechanism Zoro installed inside his wooden chest. It was made to only repeat things because he lacked the ability to form words on his own. The mechanism recorded the words and repeated them when needed.
Zoro couldn't help the wide grin spreading on his face. He did it, he did the impossible.
"Stand up." He commanded and the puppet, no, Sanji, did as was told.
Sanji's joints did not creak even one bit as he stood up. His wooden body was firm and didn't stagger, all thanks to Zoro's good work. Zoro observed his creation with childish glee. He took a step closer and started adjusting Sanji's fine suit. He ran his calloused fingers through the puppet's blond hair, making it look all neat and stylish. Sanji stayed still the whole time, his eyes staring at Zoro and studying his every feature. Once the puppet maker thought that his creation was presentable enough he stepped aside and pointed at the door of the room.
"I will now show you to my friends. I have been working on you for a long time now and they're eager to see what I have made. Their jaws will surely hit the floor at the sight of you." Zoro said with a proud smirk.
Sanji followed Zoro loyally as he was his master's puppet now, he knew he was. Small and foggy thoughts washed over him ever so slowly. The old spell certainly was the reason, however the blank look on his pale, woody face did not reveal any of that.
Once they were out of the room and in a big entrance hall Zoro saw his friends waiting for them. He had asked them to come and see his newest creation. One of his friend's, Robin, was supposed to help him pick the right buyer for this fine doll. The tall black haired woman took a step closer, her eyes glowing in awe and so did everyone else's. They were fascinated as no one had ever managed to craft a doll so… Lifelike.
Zoro presented the puppet with pride but left out the little detail about black magic. No one needed to know about that since it was his secret ingredient and he didn't want to reveal it. The others thought that it was because of some kind of new mechanism inside the puppet's wooden shell. Zoro just smiled and let his dear friends examine the puppet. Sanji stood still the whole time and observed the humans silently. A sweet voice came from his mouth every now and then as the speaker inside him played some words and sentences.
"I'm sure everyone wants to buy this puppet, Zoro," Robin finally said after they all had finished admiring Sanji. "Just tell me when you're ready to put it on display and I will call the people to come and see it."
Zoro nodded at that and promised to let her know. He just needed to give some final touches, like teach Sanji some more sentences and see how he acted. He wasn't so sure himself either about how this magic could affect the puppet's behaviour. Frankly speaking, he had a good feeling about this.
His friends left eventually as they had to go back to their own work, each one of them going their separate ways at the front door. Sanji was standing still as a rock and staring right in front of him. Zoro brought his hand to the puppet's face and fixed the golden locks a bit, running his fingers through them and then along the smooth but hard cheek. Sanji was about just as tall as him so it created an illusion of a real person.
Oh how smooth the wood was against his calloused fingers. The paint had dried a long time ago and was now glowing sweetly, giving a little life to that pale face of his. A small smile curled on Zoro's lips as he pulled his hand away and guided Sanji back to the work room. The puppet followed automatically, some thoughts about Zoro running around in his mind. They weren't clear but he knew that he was supposed to be with this man, his creator. He was going to follow this human wherever he went.
For the rest of the dark evening Zoro just tried out different kinds of clothes on Sanji to see how they looked on him. Zoro was more than pleased to notice that the puppet looked good in dresses as well, just like he had planned. He already had some frilly dresses with carefully finished details etched into them. Zoro decided to keep one of them on Sanji for now. It was a darker dress with a brown, black, white, and grey colour scheme. It was decorated with golden locks, buckles and chains. Sanji also got nicely detailed boots that were also made just for him. Zoro was pleased with the outcome. Sanji really was a perfect doll, almost too perfect.
It was rather easy to figure out how Sanji acted. He didn't act with any emotion to things he was presented to. It was a good thing actually. However, the longer Zoro kept the puppet the more reluctant he grew to give him away.
When Robin finally asked Zoro when he was going to put the puppet on display after two long weeks of waiting, he just said later. He still needed time. He wanted all the time he could possibly get.
What Zoro did with Sanji had nothing to do with the final fixing in the end. He just wanted to keep the puppet close to him. Something in the blond doll drew him closer to it. Even if he wasn't able to have a proper conversation with Sanji, Zoro still found himself talking to him like any other and that was troubling.
Frankly, the puppet maker wasn't the only one thinking weirdly. Even without proper emotions Sanji grew to be… Protective over his creator. A dark aura grew around him whenever someone touched Zoro or when someone took him away from the house and even when someone came over. It was overwhelming in every possible way. No one noticed the change, of course. The wooden man wasn't able to voice out his thoughts, not that he understood them in the first place. His enchanted mind was filled only with primitive instincts that he could not control.
After one month or so Zoro slowly started to realised that his obsession over his dear puppet was going too far. He talked to himself around Sanji, told him about his days and complained about difficult orders. He used his free time by dressing him up with frilly dresses and fine suits, testing out different combinations and took photos of every single one of them.
Zoro even went so far as to keep him in the bedroom when he was sleeping. He sat Sanji down in one of the rich armchairs in the corner of the room every night. He had a habit of running his fingers through that lovely silky hair and caressing the wooden cheeks before whispering goodnight. It had already gone too far.
Zoro decided to finally sell Sanji but he had to find a good buyer first. He wasn't going to hand him over to just anyone who happened to ask and offer enough money, he was always careful with that. He didn't want his creations to get destroyed or forgotten by some foolish people who didn't give a shit about his hard work in the end.
Zoro started going out more often and also brought many people home with him to see Sanji. They were all amazed to no end by the masterpiece as they had heard only rumours about this legendary living doll. They all wanted to buy him.
Sanji wasn't the least bit happy about any of this. The guests were touching Zoro too much, they were trying to take him away from his creator, that much he understood. They made his speakers repeat foolish things for their own entertainment and they touched his wooden shell shamelessly, talking about him like any other toy they would buy for their children.
One day Zoro had once again taken Sanji to the big workroom of his. He was sitting in the corner while his creator worked hard on the next puppet which was of the normal, non living variety this time. Sanji could see how Zoro was putting his whole heart into it like usual. He observed the situation with keen eyes, gaze completely nailed on Zoro and… The damned new doll he was making. The aura around the wooden man exploded with jealousy. HE was Zoro's puppet, not these other things! He was created by those calloused hands and he definitely did not want those hands on any other dolls. Those half assed puppets did not deserve those hands crafting them!
Zoro was oblivious to Sanji's thoughts and just happily continued his work. Suddenly his phone started ringing in the main hall. He let out a heavy sigh and dropped his work to go to answer it. Sanji stayed in the room and listened. He heard hushed words and one side of the conversation. It was obviously one of Zoro's friends calling. Sanji stared at the door, waiting patiently for his creator to return. It took longer that he would have liked. He could hear arguing, then laughing and then a bit more half-hearted arguing. Then, finally, Zoro returned to the workroom to turn off the lights before leaving, just like that.
Sanji was left in the dark room, alone. He watched Zoro leave the room, then heard him leave the house. He left him alone again. Left with his friends to give attention to them, and not him. But when Zoro was coming back he would continue his work, giving all of his attention to those shitty dolls again, not to him like he was supposed to. Zoro was supposed to love him. He was his greatest creation, not those stupid knock offs! Then an idea suddenly hit him. What if the puppets in progress just… Disappeared? Got destroyed? Then the marimo couldn't spend time with them and he would turn his sweet attention back to Sanji. Yes, that would be perfect.
With a creak of wooden joints, Sanji stood up. He slowly made his way to the working station and stared down at a female puppet that was sitting on on the desk and then a male one next to it. They looked so peaceful laying there as they were. They were truly fine work and it disgusted Sanji to no end. He was the perfect puppet, he was supposed to be the only one Zoro loved, the only one Zoro looked at with pride. If he had to destroy all of these creations to keep that position, then so be it.
With a blank look on his face, Sanji hauled the dolls down from the desk. His hand found one of Zoro's hammers and started hammering the poor puppets mercilessly with as much rage as he could muster. With every hit they fell apart, the wood shattering under the iron. Little splinters of wood filled the floor as the enraged puppet kept going, only stopping when the wooden toys were completely destroyed and scattered all over the floor. He'd ripped all the metal pieces out of them as well, throwing them across the room.
A malicious aura filled the the room, thick with the black magic that was radiating from Sanji. There was nothing stopping him now. Breaking the other puppets wasn't enough. He started hammering all the furniture, even walls. He threw the tools around, hurling them at every hard surface he could find, breaking a window in the process. He grabbed the heavy desk and with a bit of effort Sanji managed to flip it over. He did the same to every desk and chair in the room.
Finally Sanji was finished. The whole room was now destroyed. Slowly the thick aura faded from the air and Sanji calmed down. He turned his head from left to right, taking in the damage he had made in a rather short time. He was pleased because now Zoro wouldn't be able to craft anything and cleaning up this mess would take at least a whole decade or something like that.
"Zoro…" The soft voice came from his mouth as the speaker repeated the most important name to him.
After a while Sanji walked out of the wrecked room and made his way to the master bedroom where his favourite armchair was. He sat down and fell motionless once again, like nothing happened. Now he was just waiting for his creator to come home so that he could watch him sleep again.
Hours passed and it was already past midnight when Sanji heard the front door opening. Zoro was finally home. There was silence for a while and then a cry of surprise and confusion. The blond remained still in his chair, just listening and waiting. There was rushing around, yelling, swearing, phone calls and more shuffling. Soon there were other voices joining Zoro's. Sanji could hear as the police came in and started asking lots of questions. He listened as they walked around, took photos and inspected everything. Zoro was a well known man in the rather small city so everyone did their best to help him, no matter what he needed.
Suddenly in the middle of all the questioning Zoro jolted as he realised he didn't see Sanji in the wrecked room. Fuck! He excused himself and left the cops to stand there by themselves. Zoro dashed from room to room, calling out Sanji's name. Once he reached the hall leading to his bedroom he saw Sanji standing in front of the bedroom door, completely still and looking at him.
Zoro sighed in relief when he saw Sanji as he'd thought that whoever broke in his house and destroyed his workroom, the dolls with it, had taken Sanji with them. It felt so good to prove that fear wrong. Zoro moved to caress Sanji's cheek and stroked his hair, something that he always did. It soothed his nerves slightly.
Once Zoro had found Sanji he returned back to the cops who were still waiting downstairs, the wooden man followed closely behind. The police officers eyed the doll with curiosity. They had all heard about this after all. One of them even tried to ask the puppet questions but Zoro kindly, more or less, explained that Sanji wasn't able to answer questions like that if he wasn't taught to say the words. The officer's shoulders dropped in defeat as he had gotten his hopes up about having a conversation with the doll.
In the end the cops finally left when they had enough material. They promised to stay in touch and find out who did all this. Zoro had a feeling that those promises were empty but it wouldn't hurt to try.
All this drama was forgotten eventually as days, then weeks passed. Sanji was as neutral as ever, especially around Zoro. All the searching and investigating about the break in was good for nothing. Frankly, he grew tired of it and eventually gave up and forgot about it. Things returned back to normal. Though Zoro started spending more time with his friends and had already found one potential customer to buy Sanji. To the puppet's disappointment, he had to be put on display many, many times.
One day Zoro brought home an old, fancy looking man. He wanted to buy Sanji for his daughter who had lost her husband and was now lonely and a mess. The man explained that the poor woman needed some company and something to do, someone to take care of. What would be better for that purpose than a talking and moving human sized doll? He offered a great amount of money as well. Zoro found the old man's reasons good enough so he agreed to sell Sanji to him.
The two men were oblivious to Sanji's growing rage, the dark aura that was once again filling the room. Zoro noticed none of that. Maybe he was too stupid to notice it or maybe too blind. He promised to bring Sanji to the man's house tomorrow morning as he needed to prepare him.
The old man was pleased and left the house after shaking Zoro's hand. Zoro then turned to look at Sanji and let out a heavy sigh. It wasn't easy for him to give him away, he couldn't brush of the nasty feeling that nagged at him how wrong this was. But why would he listen to some shitty voice in the back of his mind? He was going to sell Sanji and move on with his life and that's it.
Night fell and the house was quiet again. The lights were off and the master of the house was happily in bed, sleeping soundly. Sanji was sitting in the corner of the room in his chair like every other night when suddenly he stood up and with a slight noise from his joints. He went to stand by Zoro's bed, observing him as he slept. The man looked so peaceful, so pure and innocent like this. If Sanji could help it, he would have liked to keep it that way too. So he had to take care of a little thing to keep things the way he wanted.
Sanji walked down the stairs, across the house and then outside. The streets were empty and dark. The moon was behind clouds, keeping all the stars hidden as well. The sky was completely black which was perfect for Sanji, no one would notice him in the dark, especially when he was wearing a black dress. His instincts were leading him forward. He didn't need an address to be able to find this man who was about to ruin two lives in one go.
Sanji had to walk all the way to the other side of the city where he sensed the man living. Eventually he was standing behind the right door. The aura around him was acting up again. He took a moment to just stare at the dark wood before fixing his black silk gloves. He was ready.
A loud knock on the front door woke the oblivious man up from his peaceful slumber. Who on earth could it be at this hour?! He grumbled and got out of the warm bed, leaving his dear wife to sleep. After grabbing a soft and warm dressing gown he scratched his well trimmed grey beard and rushed to the door. Once the door was open he was welcomed by the sight of… the puppet he was about to buy. Confusion took over his thoughts.
"What are you doing here? Wasn't Roronoa supposed to bring you tomorrow?" The man babbled on. "Where is he anyway?"
"Home. You're no good." It was Sanji's only reply before gloved, wooden fingers wrapped themselves tightly around the shocked man's throat.
Before the man could say or do anything, Sanji's hard and sharp fingers dug deep in the old flesh. Blood gushed out of the helpless body, staining the stairs underneath them. Sanji's eyes were neutral but the dark magic was once again filling the air, tainting his victim, through and through. The old man was clawing at the wooden hand on his throat like a madman, trying to pull it away. The fruitless struggling made Sanji only tighten his hold and in the end when the poor man finally stilled, the puppet took a good grip and ripped the throat open, smearing his glove with thick blood.
Now dead, the man fell on the ground in the pool of his own blood. He laid there, motionless, his eyes going empty as the life left him. Sanji looked down at him and then at his own hand that was still holding a piece of the flesh he just ripped from the man's throat. Slowly his mind calmed down and he dropped the bloody clump on the ground, right in front of the man's face.
"For Zoro."
With those words left behind Sanji walked away. He threw his stained gloves in the nearest trash can and made his way back home. It was done and he could now once again live in peace with Zoro and no one would take him away from his beloved crafter. But little did he know about the future, about Zoro's plans.
The next few days were filled with terrifying news about a dead nobleman, cruelly murdered at his own doorstep in the late hours of the night. Everybody was talking about it. Who would do such a thing to a fine and kind man like him? His now widowed wife was screaming for justice, demanding death for the monster who did this. Monster indeed.
Like all breaking news, this one died under the shadows of other news. Other big things happened and this one laid forgotten in the darkest corner, never spoken of again. Only a mourning widow and daughter left behind, also forgotten.
Zoro was shocked to hear the news as well and of course he never got to sell Sanji to this man or his family so the puppet remained with him. Everything was fine again, more or less, until the day Zoro informed that he had found a new buyer for Sanji. Rage took over the enchanted toy again. This was NOT happening again!
This time it was a woman, wanting to get a special and perfect doll to add to her collection. Zoro was so impressed by the enormous collection that he agreed and the price the woman offered was really good too so it was settled.
Like last time, Zoro promised to get Sanji ready and bring him the next day, it was his way to seal the deal. Sanji sat motionless as Zoro fussed around him that night, doing his hair and trying out different clothing combinations. This time he settled with a suit vest, loose button-up shirt and dress pants, all black and white. As a finishing touch he tied a bow tie around the thin neck. It was perfect.
The rest of the evening went peacefully. Zoro was yet again working in his now completely fixed workroom while Sanji sat in the corner. Something dark and terrifying was burning within the puppet. His human was already making a new doll for himself when the "old one" was still there! He was replacing him, had already sold him away and was in the process of making a new one, threatening to leave him forgotten. How dare he?!
In a second Sanji was up and next to the man, startling him. Before Zoro had time to say anything the puppet already yanked the hammer from his hand and threw the rest of the tools across the room, scattering them over the floor. Then he raised the hammer and in a speed of light smashed the doll in progress, shattering its head into tiny spinters. He didn't have enough time to start hammering the rest of the doll's body when a strong hand already grabbed Sanji's wrist and forcefully snatched the hammer away from him.
"What the hell? What's wrong with you?!" Zoro shouted at the puppet.
Sanji's eyes turned to him, flashing with rage. The familiar aura spread around him once again, for the first time around his creator. Zoro felt it, felt it almost too well. He took a step back and raised his hands up, dropping the hammer. He had no idea what was going on.
"Okay, calm down." Zoro said with a low, soothing voice. The bad aura was probably caused by the spell he casted.
At his words Sanji indeed calmed down, his anger melting away. He took a step closer to Zoro, reaching his hand towards him but the man flinched away. Sanji tried one more time but he only got the same negative reaction. His hand dropped and he remained still in the middle of the room.
"I'm going to take you to lady Mama early tomorrow. You will stay here tonight." Zoro said, almost threatening, commanding. Sanji tried to follow him but Zoro lifted his hand up to stop him. "Stay!"
So Sanji was forced to watch the human walk away from him, his eyes glued on the retreating back. He felt alone again. He was once again left in the dark room that he hated so much, a shattered doll as his only company. The thought of Zoro still selling him hurt deeply. That shitty woman was not going to live through it, she wasn't going to buy him.
The night fell and both Zoro and Sanji remained in their own rooms. That night was long and dark, more so than usual. It was getting colder outside, the trees were taken by frost and the dying fog made the roads slippery. Winter was on its way. It was taking over the small city, leaving Autumn behind.
The morning rose and Zoro appeared in his workshop where Sanji was still standing at the same spot where he was left last night. Sanji observed Zoro fussing around the room, gathering clothes in a big leather bag. It was time to go.
"Follow me, we are leaving."
Without any further words they left the house. Sanji was acting all obedient and neutral. He would make his move later. He would show the old woman…
The said woman welcomed them in her big house. She handed Zoro his well earned money and then embraced her brand new puppet.
"Be nice to him. I poured all my heart and soul into him. Same goes for you, Sanji. Behave yourself." Zoro finally said when he was about to leave.
Sanji took a step closer to his crafter but the man backed away. He refused to touch him. Zoro didn't stroke his silky hair nor caress his wooden, rosy cheek. Why? Why didn't he want to touch him anymore? The familiar anger rushed back to him, towards Zoro, the woman, everyone!
Eventually the night fell, darker than ever before. Sanji was placed in a dimly lit room that was filled with many kinds of dolls. It looked disturbing, to say the least. Every single one of them was placed neatly in their rightful place, and now Sanji was too. He absolutely despised it. That woman was keeping him here and Zoro just upright allowed it, giving him away just for what seemed to be useless paper. So much for his heart and soul.
When the lights were finally off, Sanji was finally granted with much desired peace and quiet. He had been touched and pulled all around to entertain the people of this damned house. Now he had had enough. No more. Just, no… He stood up and eyed the room around him. This was the last time he was going to see it. His glassy eyes fell on a cute furry toy on the other side of the room. It looked like… a tanuki? Or was it a reindeer? Maybe even hybrid? Anyway, it looked unhappy. All the dolls in the room did. They were trapped here, god knows for how long. He needed to get out of here, he couldn't be trapped here too.
Sanji walked out of the room, rushing towards lady Mama's bedroom as quietly as he could. He stood at the door for a while before knocking on it, hard enough to wake the woman. A few minutes later there was cursing and fumbling with a lock.
The door was opened and the old woman had barely enough time to register what was happening when Sanji already had his wooden fingers deep through her throat. Lady Mama gagged and tried to raise her hand but by then enraged Sanji pulled on the flesh, ripping through it. The dark magic filled yet another poor soul as the body hit the hardwood floor. It was done. Sanji however wasn't calming down. He wanted, no needed to go back to Zoro.
All bloody, Sanji walked along the dark and empty streets. Thick, almost black blood dripped from his stained hands onto the dirty asphalt, leaving an eerie trail in his wake. The blood stained the stairs to his home, the doorknob, the carpet in the main hall, the dark wooden stairs, and finally the floor in front of Zoro's bedroom. Sanji knocked, lighter than at lady Mama's place. He heard an annoyed groan and some more cursing in the familiar low voice. Then the door was open.
Zoro's eyes went wide in shock at the sight. His mouth went suddenly dry, and his blood ran cold. Sanji was covered in blood and the air around him was… Suffocating, so heavy. It was hard to breathe.
"I'm home." Sanji finally said in his soft and bright voice. The bloody sight combined with that voice though made shivers run down Zoro's spine.
"Why are you here? Why are you covered in blood? Sanji?" He managed to choke out.
"I wanted to come home, Zoro. I wanted to be with you." Sanji repeated the words he had heard somewhere.
Zoro stared at Sanji with shocked eyes, his thoughts running a hundred miles an hour. Sanji killed lady Mama and he was probably the one who killed the old man as well. Now it all made sense. It was the spell, that damned, fucking old spell. He had created a monster… He needed to break it! He had the grimoire right… in his workshop. God fucking dammit. Zoro tried to step to the side, past Sanji. However the puppet didn't move an inch.
"I… I will go to get some water and towel to clean you up, okay? Follow me." Zoro lied, trying to persuade Sanji into going with him. He managed to control his voice and keep it steady and firm.
Sanji nodded and let Zoro pass. He was happy that the human seemed to be willing to take him back and maybe even keep him in the end. However, he noticed Zoro was really tense and walked fast. Something was wrong. The aura started getting darker, stronger. When Zoro entered the room, Sanji's cold blue eyes fixed on the old book. Then it hit him, the book was dripping magic.
"No!" Sanji yelled, making Zoro stop on his tracks.
Sanji watched Zoro turn around and look at him, then away. He sensed the anxiety radiating from the man. He saw his hands shaking and lips quivering.
"I'm sorry. I made a mistake when I used magic to craft you. It was wrong and now I will fix it."
Sanji's eyes went wide, revealing the deep blue orbs fully. Then they went neutral again. The malicious feeling was taking over. Zoro couldn't do that! He wouldn't allow it!
Zoro turned around again and continued on his path, closer and closer to the magical book.
"Don't walk away…"
Zoro flinched at the words, spoken in the sweetest voice in the world, but finally reached the old grimoire. He turned the book over in his hands, flipping through the pages to get to where he needed to be. He was about to say that he's sorry but didn't have time when he felt blinding pain in his chest. His golden eyes traveled down to see a wooden hand deep inside his chest, blood pooling passed the hand, dripping everywhere. He coughed, recognizing the coppery taste as blood. It dripped down his chin, staining his skin.
It took him a moment to fully register what was happening, then incredible pain rushed through his body again, making his legs give in. He dropped the book with a dull thud as he lost control of his appendages. He idly wondered if that too would be stained in his blood. Zoro's body never hit the floor however since Sanji's strength kept him up. A cry of pain escaped his lips before he stared at the puppet who stared right back with his glassy eyes, once dull but now full of emotion.
"No."
After that one single word Sanji pulled his hand out, ripping Zoro's heart out with it. Zoro let out a final gasp, terror written all over his face as his dead body hit the floor, dark blood painting it slowly.
It was over. No one would buy Sanji anymore and no one would sell him anymore. No one would destroy him. Sanji sat down in the pool of blood and carefully placed Zoro's head in his lap with his free hand, clutching Zoro's heart in his other. He looked down at the heart, then at Zoro before gently stroking his green and fluffy hair, returning the soothing feeling that he always used to get. Sanji's eyes then wandered back at the warm, slippery piece of meat in his hand. He would keep this precious heart forever so that no one could ever take Zoro away from him ever again. He was going to be that perfect puppet Zoro always wanted him to be.
Good puppets are made of the best kind of wood, paint, clothes and hair, by the best puppet maker.
What are perfect puppets made of then?
They are made of all of these, and with the heart and soul of the puppet maker.
That's what perfect dolls are made of.
And now Sanji was a perfect doll.
Happy Halloween everyone! Hope you all will have a spooky night and enjoyed this little story I wrote one year ago XD Thank you for my sweet torchi-chan for betaing this one!
