As The World Falls Down

The Toymaker - Horror (R)

**WARNING** This Short is rated a GIANT R. Read with extreme caution. While I write questionable acts, I do not condone such acts in real life. Remember my lovelies, this is FICTION. It ISN'T real. But it is most definitely questionable ^.^
GRAPHIC CONTENT BELOW. If scenes of, implied or actual, rape and/or murder offend you...don't effing read it. Duh.
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THE TOYMAKER
A Mooney One-Shot Introduction

He hummed as he worked.

Lurking within the hearts of mankind was a beast. Something so primitive, so ancient, that it had long ago been forgotten. Through conscious decision and effort, the primordial beast was leashed and caged, tamed within every man and woman that dared to walk the Earth as if they owned it. Yet, every now and again, something would go wrong in the development stages of reproduction. Modern-day psychologists and scientists worked their busy little tails off, just to try and find the secret gene that developed in those handful of fetuses. The gene that caused them to later, fully grown, seek out and murder.

In the dimly lit depths of his work room, the Toy Maker sat, hunched over his latest pride and joy. Behind him, drenched in the shadows of the large room, a figure hung, suspended from the ceiling by thick steel chains and sharp-tipped hooks. Thrust through the figure's back, those hooks kept it several feet above the floor, a large basin arranged beneath to catch the pints of blood that had steadily seeped from those duel wounds. The head hung at an odd angle, the neck gleefully snapped in the midst of the Toy Maker's enthusiasm for his .... "games." Every now and again, he would half turn, pale eyes peering anxiously over his shoulder at the suspended corpse, as if to ensure that it was still, in fact, a corpse. He'd had a little problem once, you see, where his new toy hadn't really wanted to stay his toy. It was a minor miscalculation on his part, more's the pity; an erroneous judgment when he'd accidentally snatched a pesky little lycanthrope. That had been a good night, though, even given his fück up in not checking to make sure he had something at least sort of human. Of course, it had been quite a mess he'd had to clean up afterward, the animal-human putting up such a fight that he had almost wondered if he would be the one up on the hooks by the end of the night. Thankfully, it was not he, but the nasty little vermin.

The Toy Maker straightened from his hunched over position, shoulders rolling as if to relieve tense muscles, while his hands stroked the finished product. He touched it as a lover would, caressing the subtly flushed "flesh", nearly fondling the poor thing. Made of a thick latex blend material, he had sculpted the original mold with his own hands, tenderly crafting the first of the New Line; he put his heart and soul into the toys he created. Sometimes, quite literally, though then it was not his soul that was trapped in the exquisitely made dolls. Those were the special ones, made with porcelain instead of plastic. If, however, he was in a particularly vindictive state of mind, if his "inspiration" had given him just a little too much trouble, or been at all cooperative, he would use these less beautiful(in his mind) vessels to cage their spirit.

As now, he shifted to look behind him, at the body hanging above the floor. As his fingers stroked over the naked doll, gently smoothing over the curved dome of it's currently bald head, the Toy Maker rose. Fully turning now, he ambled his way over to the hovering corpse. Only, it was not exactly a corpse; a spark of life still lingered. He could see it as thick lashes fluttered, rising ever so slightly to reveal to him the enchanting eyes that had first drawn him. An exquisite aquamarine colour, so pale a blue with just the slightest hint of green, they were amazing eyes. Amazing enough to convince him to take his time with this one. To woo and charm, for weeks and weeks, as one would woo a love interest. And it was a love, of a sort. The Toy Maker truly did love, and cherish, each and every Inspiration. It was there, in the way he painstakingly crafted them in a form that would last through an eternity. In the tender manner which he touched them once they had been prepared, lovingly stroking their hair, their arms, their cheeks. He could spend hours just touching them; with this one, he had been compelled to keep it hung up like this for days, touching and stroking it's body to ensure that he learned every single dip and hollow. He needed to know exactly how the body was made, it's skeletal and musculature structures, every pale blue vein beneath silky, white skin. He had to know the texture of the hair and flesh.

It was the only way that he could accurately reproduce it, you see.

Smiling that warm, so friendly smile, the Toy Maker nuzzled up against the body, a deep rumbling sound erupting from the depths of his chest. There was a faint moaning sound from the poor creature, yet it could not move. While it's brain screamed commands to it's body, begging muscles to flex, nothing happened; the brain had been effectively cut off from directing the motions of the rest of it, in the same way a quadriplegic loses control. With an oddly masculine giggle, he held the doll up for the Inspiration's inspection. "You should be happy! Now, you will live forever." His voice was a velvet caress in it's ear, causing another of those annoying little whimpery noises. "Oh, please, do not cry! You must be perfect, beautiful. Please do not ruin yourself, oh please." There was something frantic in his voice, as if the thought of his Inspiration ruining it's self with petty tears was unbearable. And oh, but it was!

Tsk'ing, he moved away and shook his head sadly. "I am truly sorry that it had to end this way, you know. You were quite entertaining all these long weeks. What? What was that?" His head canted to one side, as if to catch something it said, though nothing but those damned noises had come out, he giggled again. "Oh, my dear, you want to do It again? Just one last time?" The Toy Maker blushed, the bronzed flesh of his cheeks becoming a dull red as he ducked his head in a coy manner. "Well, I suppose once more wouldn't hurt anything. Just let me....." His voice trailed off as he wandered away.

It was only to gently place the unfinished doll on his work table; within seconds he was back. One hand rose, long fingers easing over the back of his Inspiration's neck, cupping the curve lovingly. He massaged there, murmuring beneath his breath, and fairly crowed in delight when the figure jerked, it's head snapping up as he "repaired" what had been broken. Moving around in front of it, the Toy Maker wrapped his arms around it's waist and lifted, trying to be gentle. Even still, as the body was lifted from the sharp steel hooks, it's mouth opened and an anguished scream was given. Suddenly, fists were flying, trying in vain to hit him hard enough to deter him.