Puppets on a String
By SMYGO4EVA

"Is that blood?"

The words were out of Retz's mouth before she could stop them. She didn't want to know why there was blood, on Omokage's hands.

Omokage only looked at her softly, as both a puppet, its strings tangled, and an innocent boy laid upon the hardwood floor of his workshop.

He looked down at his feet, where the boy was silent, his limbs strewn, his eyes empty. "Oh, damn. It seems you've distracted me, sister." he muttered.

Retz was under his arm in an instant. "What are you doing, what's going on?" she asked, no, pleaded, her heart pounding in her chest. A million questions and thoughts swirled in her head, and she fell on her knees, looking at the nightmarish sight before her.

"This is certainly not how I wanted you to find out, Retz," he said, his voice light and soothing as he knelt before her, his hand on her cheek, lifting her head so that she would look into his eyes.

The image of blood, puppets hung by a string, their guts shredded, rose up before her eyes, but she pushed down the panic when his face flooded her vision.

"This is all for you, my dear sister," Omokage murmured, and Retz could only see black, and fear was replaced with a dull, sleepy, calm numbness.

She then smiled, eyes heavy.

"Omokage, my dear brother."