The Tree was Hewn and shaped, chopped and molded, nailed and split, hinged and pieced until it sat in a few small components, each bit angry now more than ever before in it’s long and infamous existence. The hanging tree was to become a child’s toy now in the hands of this man, this Geppeto. The humble worker wished for a son, he prayed for a son but one was never granted him, either by his now dead wife nor his mistress after, and he was alone, thrown into his carving. He worked like aman possessed and indeed he was, he shaped a child’s likeness in wood, building it slowly with string and wire, the child bore eyes and ears, hair painted upon a wooden scalp. The shape of it’s body was simple and regular, his clothes painted on. A toy indeed, his face simple and closed, awaiting the hand of a puppeteer to bring it to life. The man finished the final touches upon his creation and looked upon it’s face solid and wooden but it was a fine work, indeed it looked almost alive. It amazed him how so horrible a tree could spawn such a fine work of art. He laid it on his knee and placed his hand inside, and with the careful ministrations of the creator’s hand the eyes of the puppet opened and saw with false eyes the world it had been brought into. It’s mouth opened and with a chuckle, the old man spoke in a high voice mimicking the child he longed for.

“Hello, my name is pinochio, and I love you very much.” The old man chuckled and adjusted his glasses and set the puppet on his workbench before standing and walking away to his bedroom it was late and after a week of long hours making his little masterpiece he was tired, his old bones ached. He moved to bed and said a prayer before settling to sleep, but in his dreams something occurred a darkness swept his mind, a fear and terror in his nightmared skull, demons and leering fiends crowded his vision, laughing and mocking the old man in his ancient sins, of days past. The demons in his mind mired for so long finally left him as he stilled, but though he felt as though they had been banished they had merely found something new, something to which his mind was firmly attached and by his mind, theirs as well. The beasts of the Legions poured from their receptacle in the dreams of the withered man and flew to the creation to which his heart lay, the wooden doll made from a tree bathed in malice and blood. The fiends permeated and swamped the wood, howling their pleasure at the open emptiness of the puppet and slowly, the puppet’s eyes opened, it’s blue painted orbs animated by the powers of the escaped shade. And as the eyes opened and the mouth clicked open and closed it planted a hand on the bench and pushed it’s wooden body to it’s feet shakily and stood looking over it’s hands, wooden but opposable. Ah, The Taste of Freedom from the crowded head to the fresh and woodgrained emptiness.

The fiends danced inside as the puppet walked across the table of the working bench and looked at the world trough painted eyes, wood metal and paint. It strode across the surface once more, gaining in proficiency and step before it looked down upon the table and saw a sw, a handbladed saw, small and sharp and toothed. The puppet now in more ways than one took the item in his hands and lept down from the table heading toward the stubborn old man’s room, creator indeed, this man must fall, for his amusement it was cut down, it was his fault they were imprisioned, and in this the tree of creation and the spirit of animation came to agreement hence, humans are evil, not they or them, but man in all his error. Moveing through the massive portal the man had used before he strode p to the codger’s bed and climbed up his bedpost, his body light and footsteps soft as he moved u to the head looking down upon the face of the wrinkled person who had damaged them so badly and raising the saw above it’s head plunged the point through his sleeping eye ending him without a sound more than a strangled gasp and a twitch of pain.

The deed was done,

The First was Gone, the Rest shall Go, felled by Pinochio

A/N: I was thinking about this story for a while and I finaly decided this was how our little killer puppet would come to life, simplest answer right? anyway, working on part three. and a few other idea, some stories are grisly enough though, as always R and R, send me your ideas, so I may work on them.