Part One

He could hear music. It was the songs he heard during the day and at night, the songs of joy that he wished he could witness. He knew there was fun inside. He knew that if he were to step foot into the restaurant, he would be fooling himself. He was poor, blind, and had no family to call his own. You could tell too. His hair was shaved all the way off, and his face was dirty from the lack of cleanliness. The only part of his face that was not dirt smudged was the tracks that his tears had made from his blank eyes to his chin. They had asked him not to sit outside the restaurant but he didn't care. He came back every day, because this place reminded him of when his mother used to take him in there before he became blind, and before she disappeared.

Standing at the front doors, he pressed his face up against the cold glass, and listened to kids running, squealing and having fun. The boy imagined having friends like that and he would picture himself in the building playing tag with them.

Suddenly he felt a warm hand grasp his shoulder. The boy gasped and quickly jumped back. The hand came off this shoulder. "Hey," a soothing male voice cooed. "It's ok. You've been out here defenseless, for two weeks."

The boy didn't respond. "I've got something for you. You must really be hungry. Here let me get something."

He heard the man's footsteps walk away, and then the opening and shutting of the trunk of a car. He came back and handed the small boy a cupcake. "It's me. Here's a little something for you. Eat it quick before anyone sees. I'm not supposed to give you food…"
The boy quickly ate the cupcake. It has been long since eating something so delicious. The man got in the car and drove away quite quickly. The boy wanted to yell good bye to the man, but he couldn't. Something was wrong. His throat suddenly felt like it was on fire. The boy couldn't breathe. His throat swelled up. That man didn't help him, he poisoned him. That was the last thing the boy remembered before his life faded away.

Part Two

"Brilliant. This design will work perfectly."

The boy couldn't move his body.

"Yeah, nice friendly design, and all the kids will love him. His job is to give gifts."

He could actually see! But not like before… Everything was hazy, and dark around the rims. He still couldn't move. His chest felt extremely heavy and sounds he heard were distorted and warbled. He then realized that he wasn't breathing either.

"Ok, Puppet." A man who was quite tan and a man in a purple uniform were standing over him. He was confused. Why were they calling him Puppet? "Are you ready to make kids happy? You know, if you give them enough gifts, they might really love you."

"Why are you talking to it? It's an animatronic, not a living being. They only understand phrases like, 'Hello' or 'May I have a present'. They do have artificial intelligence, but they aren't human." The purple suited man spoke this time.

"Yeah, guess you're right. Ok, I don't need your help anymore; I can lift him into the box by myself. He's as light as a stuffed animal." The man with a fake tan picked him up and swung him over his shoulder. Behind the man was a mirror. The boy glanced at his reflection without moving his head but instead of seeing himself, he saw exactly what they've been calling him: a puppet-like animatronic with a tear-stained mask. He thought it was fitting, and surprisingly, he was calm about it, but he still was confused. Had he died? He must have. But how did he possess this new animatronic? Maybe it was because he had died outside the restaurant. He would never know.

"Ok, well I have to go back to training the new employees at the old restaurant. Have fun setting him up." The man holding the Puppet snorted at the sarcasm in the purple clothed man's voice as he walked away.

The tan man gently placed him in a blue and purple box and set him up. "We haven't figured out a way to seal this box… I don't think we'll need to, it's not like you're going anywhere. You're just a robot of sorts. You're the first of the new series of animatronics coming in so you don't really have any buddies yet. We're working on it, hang in there." The man shut the box and walked away. Inside the box was dark. The boy or "Puppet" still couldn't move. He could only stay completely still while confusion anger and sadness all swarmed in his mind.

It seemed like hours went by before it became night. When it did, he suddenly could move. But he wasn't moving the animatronic, he was moving as a spirit. The animatronic body was long and skinny and his legs were tapered off to a point. His fingers were long and spindly and it was quite stuffy in the box. The Puppet's spirit pushed open the top of the box and looked around. The room was small, dark and had prizes covering all the walls.

The Puppet didn't want to look around though; he wanted to go find the men he had just seen. He touched the wall behind him and his arm went right through the wall. He then tried his head. He looked out and saw the street. He could sense where to go like an unknown force was telling him to go that way. This was his unfinished business. He'd find out who killed him, and get revenge. The Puppet would find out who he was now, and slowly forget who he was before.

To be continued...