(3rd Person)

The Toymaker. He was of great renown throughout the small town. Bringing joy to children, wonders to travelers, he had a charm that the women loved. He always wore a white button up, top 2 buttons always open with partially rolled up sleeves and a brown vest overtop it. Black trousers with straps that held onto his shoulders snuggly. Goggles rest atop his head as he was always prepared to get to work. He also wore black fingerless gloves, for he got tired of getting calloused hands. A rather handsome fellow. Perhaps the most astounding thing about him is that he created life with his own hands. Yes, the Toymaker was a wondrous man, truly marvelous. Quite the genius. Everyone loved him. Yet behind the perfect image of a man, that attractive smile, there lay a dark secret underneath.

(Tom's POV)

I remain poised in my glass box, careful not to let the customers of the shop notice me too much. It'd be terrible if I made the slightest slip-up. My control bar, strings tied around my wrists and other limbs, stays held up above me, precariously perched on 2 metal hooks. My wooden figure is locked up in a pose for a ballerina. One arm lifted up, softly bent. The other hung lower, still lifted and slightly bent as well. My right leg is crossed in front of the other. Said other leg is bent; as if it was a support for the rest of my body. My head is tilted downward and faces towards my lower arm with a half-lidded gaze. Put together, it should create the image of a flawless dancer.

Soft sunlight flits through the windows; illuminating the dust particles and minuscule wood shavings in the air. It shines on the other toys, making them radiate and glow. I had been placed strategically for the light to shine on all the correct places, letting my polished wood gleam.

Patrons gawk at me, leaning up against my glass and staring with eyes of admiration. I stiffen up inwardly, desperately wishing for the day to end already. Or at the very least, for Tomee Bear to be with me. But of course he would ruin my beautiful display, as my master puts it. I feel more eyes stare me down from behind me, snippets of their conversation reaching my wooden ears.

"It looks so real! Almost alive,"
"I wonder how it stays up? There are no supports to hold it up."
"Mama, look! The wooden man is in a different pose today!"

I let out a breathless and silent sigh, my form becoming so much harder to keep. The oak knobs in the cracks of my segmented fingers I have as joints almost twitch in anxiousness, longing to be stretched and to leave the ballet fingers position they're trapped in. My half-lidded stare threatens to flutter, letting the citizens and visitors be made aware of my life. The customers and admirers continue to watch me; a motionless marionette, smearing their grubby fingers all over my polished glass case. Out of the corner of the empty holes I call eyes, I see the small paper taped onto my case that informs all others about me, the patrons poking and prodding at it. Their breaths exhale on my display, condensing into water vapor before being whisked off into the dry air again. Ew.

"Alright, misses, misters, and children. The shop shall be closing soon, please leave Thomas alone." A familiar, soothing, deep voice cut through the crowd. The Toymaker. Small grumbles and moans of disappointment sound from the many people in the crowd as it finally clears away. My ears pick up another conversation, this time between a regular visitor and none other than the charming Toymaker himself. I watch the scene unfold in front of me.

"You know, I do find it quite amusing when you speak about your little creations, Mr. Duvol." She says with a bit of a laugh.
"Oh? And why is that, my dear? If I may ask, of course." Master asks with a voice sweeter and smoother than honey. He tells me he is obliged to do that, to keep up the 'charmer' image he's molded into, much to his dismay.
"Well...you speak of them as if you speak of your own blood. Almost as if we are bothering them when they are being crowded." She explains, persuaded by Master's tone in his reply.
"Of course! I have spent many sleepless nights to care for and to create them. It would be such a shame if someone were to even jostle the displays." He exclaims with enthusiasm. I scoff internally. A few bitter thoughts filling up my puppet mind, wanting to overflow out of my lips.

The young woman giggles, falling for the charms of the Toymaker.
"Oh, Mr. Duvol, if you can make it, may we meet at the bar further down the road? I'd love to get to know one such as yourself better." She purrs. She uses all the typical tricks to convince Master. Twirls her locks of soft, golden hair around a finger. Her voice, innocent with an underlying tone of seduction. She bites her glossed bottom lip, hoping to draw the Toymaker into her trap of lust. I roll my 'eyes' struggling with the temptation to move from my stance. I do not want to suffer another whole night hearing screams of pleasure whilst forced to remain in my glass prison; without Tomee Bear as well.

"I don't see why not," Master replies with an air of returned seduction, a low growl underneath his voice, only exciting the woman further. I sigh through my nose inaudibly. Too easy, she was too easy. Already so eager to sleep with my Master. Sleep with the kind and handsome man the town had been graced with. If only she knew of his true nature, one that I cannot utter to the world. One that I am forced to suffer for the rest of my life. If only she knew.

"Then shall we take our leave?" She asks, excitement clearly lacing her voice.
"If it is not a problem, I do wish to close up my shop first. Apologies if it is inconvien—"
"Oh no, no, of course not! Take your time. I shall await you at the bar." She says with a warm smile as she walks out the wooden doors, the bell ringing as the door hits the edge of it. As soon as he was sure she had left, he unlocks and opens my display carefully.

"Thomas," I flinch at the sudden change into a familiar and stern tone. I turn my head to look at him, my wooden skull getting stuck a few times in the socket of my neck due to my inactivity. My neck creaks slightly as it turns, and of course I am faced with that same gaze. The gaze that can burn through you, searing your flesh- or wood, in my case. The gaze that can make any man shrink 3 times his own size. The gaze that can look into your soul, witnessing all that you've done wrong.

I gaze back at him with submission, still poised in what he calls my 'Show pose'. He gives a snarl, already fed up with my existence.
"You heard our conversation. You know the rules. Clean the house, don't make a mess, and don't ever dare leave." I say the rules alongside him in my mind, the rules he sets for me every time he leaves. It's the same routine. I nod, telling him I understand before he stalks off to finish up the closing of the shop.

I carefully loosen up my stiff joints, loud creaking sounding throughout the empty store and echoing in my partially enclosed display. My joints; stuck and tight in their sockets, now loose and clacking every time I move. I reach up to gently lift up my control bar above me with slight difficulty, my sad height weighing me down. I place it onto the floor, allowing it to trail behind me as I walk around. I try to be as quiet as I can whilst searching for my beloved Tomee Bear.

Tomee Bear can be known as my guide. He was created by the Toymaker when he was sick of my...lack of voice box. Tomee helps to voice my thoughts and guides me through tough times. He is my best and only friend. It would be terrible if he were to leave me. Of course, Master has used him as a bargaining chip on more than one occasion. I keep looking, into the dark corners, the spaces between the many bookshelves that plague the store, behind the counter. Once I finish checking over the ground floor twice, I decide to move onto where Master resides. The second floor. The place where I am forbidden to even witness the living quarters, the place where I am put to labor every day. The place where I more than likely get my limbs splintered in half by my loving master. The place where I was carved and created.

Letting out another inaudible sigh, I continue to search around the upstairs, my bare feet making heavy clonks every time it comes in contact with the hardwood floor. My control bar trails behind me, dragging along and scraping the floor with barely noticeable scuffs. My strings are on the verge of tangling up in annoying cotton knots as the bar tumbles. I wander continuously, feeling that I'm nearing closer and closer to Tomee. His presence growing ever stronger.

"Tom!" I hear the small, barely above a whisper, voice of my bear. I perk up my head in the direction of his squeak and start to hurry over, almost tripping over my strings and control bar. I arrive in the kitchen, frantically looking around for Tomee. A small, stuffed, brown arm waving catches my 'eye' from behind the handmade pantry. I trot over, my control bar tumbling and bumping behind me. I reach the wooden pantry and peek behind it, my torso loudly and obnoxiously creaking. I search around the dark crack between the pantry and wall, sockets combing through the lack of light. My sockets finally land on the small, stuffed teddy bear on the ground. He looks up at me with his single line eye and his tiny threaded nose. He rustles a bit, tousling around his small tuft of hair. I give a small wave with a smile, he returns the wave.

"How was today?" He asks me as I kneel down and place my right arm in front of him to climb on. He scurries up and I close my arm around him. He rests on my birch forearm and I grasp him against my cedar chest. I give a small shrug of indifference and he nods in response. I hug and hold him close as I crawl out from the cramped space. I start to walk, now calmed by the presence of my guide. I pace a bit before being jerked back by none other than my troublesome control bar. I glance back and see it hooked onto the leg of the small dining table that my master eats at every night. Tomee hops out of my firm embrace and pulls the wooden bar that burdens me away from the table. He continues to hold onto it, occasionally untangling the threads as he trots over to me.

"I'll hold onto this for you," He says, as he remains standing on the tiled ground. I give a nod of appreciation before turning away and making my way down the dim hallways once more. Light fluttering from the rooms' windows shines on my polished wooden frame, warming my cold exterior. I pass many forbidden rooms before stopping at the top of the stairs. I stare down the steps, just now realizing how steep they are. I gather Tomee and my control bar in my arms before taking a careful step down onto the stairway. Left foot down, right foot comes down beside it. Another step down, left foot first, then the right. The cycle repeats, pushing me down slowly. I finally reach the bottom step, hopping off and placing Tomee Bear down onto the worn hardwood floor.

I rush over to the familiar figure wearing a top hat that is about to leave. I wish to bid the Toymaker a farewell before he leaves me to play with women. He turns around slightly as I tug on his expensive overcoat. He growls.
"And what do you want?" He says with aggression. Tomee Bear speaks for me from beside me, hugging my control bar tightly.
"Apologies, Master! We just wanted to say goodbye." He voices my thoughts, squeaking quietly when the Toymaker glares at him.
"Yes, yes, I shall see you tonight." He rolls his eyes as a scowl plasters itself onto his face.
"Yes, Master!" Tomee and I bow obediently, acting like dogs to him. He scoffs as he leaves, locking the front doors and letting the bell ring. We both sigh in relief, thankful he didn't do anything more.

We both prepare to start cleaning the home, store and all. Tomee climbs up onto my shoulder, keeping my bar and strings out of the way. I grab a broom and start to sweep.

I guess you could say our life is strange. I care for my master, but he does not care back. I am content with it though. It's a mostly peaceful life. Mostly.