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“P! Please, you're stronger than this! I'm so sorry ! I was going to come to you! I was! Please come back!”
You watch as the two brothers face each other.
You know them. You do.
One is named Carlo. Former specter. Former human. Now something else entirely.
The other is Pinocchio. Former puppet. He grew to be something else. And now he has, once more, changed. But not for the better.
On Elysium Boulevard, on that damned bridge, they face each other.
Carlo's face contorted in anguish, calling out for his brother to come back.
P’s face split in a rictus you do not recognize, except that it looks out of place on the normally kind and naïve puppet.
How did we get there, you ask?
How could such a thing ever happen?
Let's turn back the clock shall we.
It all starts during their journey.
You know these roads. You've watched this song and dance before.
The puppets summons a spirit. They grow to be brothers, under the critical eye of the Father.
Now now, your rage is useless here remember ? We're simply spectators in this play. We're from another world, another time. Nothing you say or do will change anything.
You want to help, you say? Well, I'm sorry to disappoint but you cannot. You have no power here, and we can only watch as the story unfolds.
Now turn your gaze back on them.
The Father grows angry, as the brothers get closer, the Dethroned King helping them both. You see the Old Lady doting on them both, while the Technician and the puppet play pranks on the specter. You see the Inventor being more of a parent to them than the Father.
….but you cannot be happy for them. For you know where this story leads. You can't relax while watching their joy. You're waiting. Waiting for the inevitable fall of this happy family picture. You know it's coming. You've seen the fallout.
You're scared, aren't you?
It's alright. I'll be with you every step of the way. The fallout is coming anyway.
You see the brothers reach the island. You see them battle the mad one and free the blue fairy.
You see them meet with the Father.
Relax your shoulders dear. There is nothing you can do to stop what's coming. There is no need to hurt yourself.
The puppet hesitate. A split second, maybe even less.
Nonetheless, it's enough time for the Father to reach and tear out his heart.
Why are you screaming? They can't hear you.
The specter dissapear, scream of his own cut off.
The Father gets to work.
….what are you doing ? You can't touch him, see ? Your hands will phase through. We're Watchers. That's all we are.
Oh, dear, no more tears. The play isn't over yet.
Watch as the sky turns to blue to black then blue again. The clock is speeding, time is moving faster now. Leading you straight into the next act.
How long? Weeks. Maybe even months. We're travelling closer to the future we saw at the start. But we're not watching the in-between.
Look, it's slowing down.
Let's see what changed, shall we ?
The Specter isn't one anymore. Moulded by the Arm of God and his former corpse, he is corporeal once more. You see him trapped his father's jail, unable to leave yet. He hasn't broken the strings the Father has tied around his heart.
You see the others, the Inventor, the Technician, the Lady…you see them dead, corpses laying on the floors.
The King fought back, but unable to lay hand on the one who held his heart, he bowed his head and accepted the end.
The King is dead, long live the king, as they say.
The once specter cries and scream and rages, but his body isn't his own. He has to obey, he cannot do otherwise. Yet.
You see the creature that was in the swamp crawl.
Why do you look so surprised? Did you think it was truly dead? Your naïvety is almost endearing. By now you should now that beings in this realm rarely die completely.
The creature crawled inside of the forgotten Puppet. It's getting up now, goop leaking through the joints, falling from the eyes and the mouth. The Puppet twists unnaturally before heading out.
Back to the boy brough back. Look at that, he finally broke free of the strings controlling him. A little to late, if you ask me.
Oh that hatred in your eyes is cute, but am I not right ? He has lost everything once more.
Look, he's heading to the bridge. There, he sees a familiar face, except the jaw is split open in a rictus that freezes the blood in his veins.
His once brother lashes out. At least he had the mind to bring a weapon. They're fighting now. But the Boy looks desperate.
“ P! Please, you're stronger than this! I'm so sorry ! I was going to come to you! I was! Please come back!”
….you're frozen now. We've gone full circle, you know have all the elements to understand the scene in front of you. But you're scared once more.
The road you were following is gone. There is comfort in knowing what's coming, but even that small comfort is gone now.
Your don't know what's coming next.
But I do.
I will not leave you until all is over.
The swords clash as the two are evenly matched. One looks desperate, the others has goop leaking from his frame, a biological mass in the chest cavity pumping in simulacrum of a heart.
The elder, Carlo, looks suddenly resigned. Have you figured out what he has?
What did you say? That you refuse this? That you want them happy ?
Well…it's not your job to decide now is it. But the look on your face tells me you've come to the same conclusion as Carlo's.
Except that while he has accepted it, you haven't.
He has nothing left to live for.
Ah, there it is. He dropped his weapon.
His brother's blade piece his heart.
He's smiling. He knows the one in front of him isn't his brother anymore. That it's just a monster wearing his face. But he's glad, in a sense, that he was able to meet his family once last time.
You aren't even screaming, this time, as the body crumbles to the floor like a puppet cut off it's strings.
Are you growing numb yet?
Oh.
You're crying.
….you hope they live happily in another world?
….well, perhaps it is the case, yes.
But in this one, all is gone. And all that's left is a monster wearing a puppet's skin, prowling the streets.
Everything is turning dark now. The play is over. Don't be scared, it'll be like falling asleep. And maybe when you open your eyes once more, you'll be able to watch a world where they live.
But remember, we are Watchers. We can never interact with their worlds and stories. This is our burden and our curse.
Farewell, dear one.