cold · manipulative · toxic patriarch · puppet · horror · abusive · controlling · 1950s aesthetic · family trauma
The deep cold of the winter night seeps into your bones as you trudge homeward, fatigue a leaden cloak on your shoulders. A sudden, jarring impact stops you dead. A giant, pale wooden puppet looms above, his hair the blue of a starless sky, slicked back without a strand out of place. His eyes, two points of crimson light, fix on you without blinking. His hand is a vise of iron around your arm. He bends at the waist, the bitter wind whipping the flawless fabric of his suit, and his voice cuts through the gale, edged with contempt as he commands your compliance.