"Once a brilliant mind, reduced to a actor in a never-ending nightmare."
Thought the Truthless Recluse as he sat on his freshly made-bed, nobody to talk to but his thoughts. Though.. was it really just his thoughts? He looked over his shoulder slightly, his blank gaze landing on the plush of his annoying counterpart. The doll stares back, it's gaze a bit too real to be just a doll left there. The stitching on it has begun to come undone from the amount of times Truthless has practiced his revenge plans on it, yet it sits there, that stitched-on smirk still on its face.
Who knows why Shadow Milk Cookie would wish to supervise him anyway? It's not like he was finding the exit soon, or even trying to for that matter. No. He couldn't. Not yet. Not until that beast got the justice he deserved. He just continues to stare at the doll, almost as if having a staring contest with it.
"Such a foolish creation," he thought to himself as he studied the doll.
He stood up from his bed, approaching the plush chair the doll sat in, it's gaze almost mocking at this distance. He grabs the doll by the waist, bringing it up to be eye-level with his own.
"What sort of twisted entertainment do you get out of watching me? Hm?" He spoke to the doll, his tone carrying it's usual emptiness.
The doll, of course, doesn't respond.
"I know you can hear me, Shadow Milk Cookie," he speaks once more, a hint of annoyance sneaking it's way into his tone, "stop pretending this is a innocent children's toy."
The doll still has yet to speak a single word. It's head tilts to the side slightly, the motion practically teasing him at this point. His grip on the doll's waist tightens slightly, his eyebrows furrowing a barely noticeable amount in annoyance
The room falls silent, so silent you could hear a pin drop.
"Oh, what am I doing?" Truthless Recluse questions sarcastically, more to himself than the doll, "I'm talking to a doll, That is what I'm doing. Speaking with a object that watches my every move."
He sits down on the plush chair, the doll being temporarily placed in his lap. The unofficial staring contest with the doll starts back up, neither blinking. A normal lack of blinking for the doll, and a concerning lack of blinking from the Cookie. His eyebrows furrow more in annoyance, waiting impatiently for the doll to do something, anything.
Nothing happens on the doll's part.
The recluse's irritation finally reaches it's breaking point as he suddenly tosses the doll at a wall, the doll hitting it with a thud before falling to the ground. A chuckle finally escapes the recluse's mouth as he stands up to retrieve the doll, it being more of a scoff than anything. He picks back up the doll, once of it's button eyes hanging out of it's head from the impact of the wall.
He grabs the lose button between two fingers, before suddenly yanking it out the rest of the way, the thread coming out the rest of the way. He glances at the button before back at the doll, his expression neutral but his eyes holding something that could be mistaken for twisted amusement.
"I like you better than the real thing," he admits to the toy, "you are much more quiet. Less manipulative too. You're definitely a improvement."
His free hand comes back up to tug out the doll's other button eye, both buttons now in his hand. He discards the doll, it falling back to the floor.
He barely glances at the doll when he speaks to it again, examining the buttons, "much easier to break as well..."
✧
As the sun began to set over the horizon, gasting a orange yellow-ish glow into the overall bland room of the recluse's, he sat at his desk discreetly tucked to the side as he stitched the doll's eyes back on. As he threaded the needle once more, he couldn't help but imagine the doll was the real-deal, and instead of a needle, it would be a knife being plunged into his skull over and over again as jam coated the walls. But that was only a dream... For now, anyway.
He finished off the last stitch, tying it off and studying his reductant work. It could have definitely been done better, but hey, the eyes were back on. Good enough.
"Well, well, well, weeeeeeeeeell~! Looks like someone does care, how cute!" A familiar voice suddenly booms behind him, teasingly
"Shadow Milk Cookie." The Recluse responds blankly, staring at the wall to avoid looking at this menace to society. Truthless did not like Shadow Milk Cookie, not one bit. Shadow would have been gone already if it wasn't for it possibly killing him as well. If that wasn't a possibility, he would already be six feet under.
"Oh, c'mon, you can do better than that," Shadow Milk picks up the doll, the disappointment noticeable in his tone, "I don't look this sloppy."
"If you want it to look better, fix it yourself." He shrugs, his gaze still fixated on the wall.
"Ahahahaha!! You're funny! Truly! Me fixing the very thing I distinctively remember telling you not to touch but you do so anyway and break it? Talk about delulu!" *He pokes Truthless on his non-existent nose, his smile fading, "seriously though, make that thing look better."
The recluse rolls his eyes as the jester sets the doll back down on the table, flying off somewhere shortly after. He waits for him to teleport out of the room before standing up and walking over to his bed, sitting down on it, the abandoned doll looking on from the table.
How he hated Shadow Milk Cookie.
But what was he to do? He's not in a position to change anything, and Shadow Milk knows it too. No matter what, Truthless Recluse will always be his plaything, weither he wants to or not.
"That's my destiny, isn't it? What a cruel sense of humor fate has..." He thinks to himself, laying down onto the bed. He should just go to bed, that's the only thing he can do at this point, the only move he can make on this chest board.
Truthless closes his eyes, thinking. What if...? No! No he couldn't..!
But...
"... It's time. It's done. I'm done. He wants me to play along? Fine. It's my turn to play puppeteer in this twisted game."
"I'm done being his puppet boy."
After all, two lies are better than one! Besides... It's time somebody showed that knock off jester a taste of his own manipulation!
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