Drossel Keinz, a puppet possessed with the soul of the man who bore the same name, sat across the table from Elizabeth. Lizzy had agreed to allow Drossel to make her into a doll under one condition: she simply must know how he came to be this way.
"As I thought to myself:....." Drossel began in a low mechanical monotone, "I recall being a young age as I watched my mother die." The orange haired male looked more dead in truth now than he had moments before. "I recall the final fatality of the cholera outbreak belonging to my mother, and I was stricken with a grief you may never know..."
Drossel then mechanically tilted his head to the side with an audible clunk as he still stared at the young female with those unsettling amethyst hued orbs.
"My mother's last gift to her only son....." He rose a hand to place on his chest, "was a puppet named 'Linsel'. I loved Linsel so, but also hated the puppet. Hated how much it reminded me of her..."
The orange haired male then stood abruptly to walk out of the door. Shortly after he returned with a small case to place on the table.
"I thought to myself: why not show Lizzy my mother's puppet? Why not show her the haunting presence it has?" He then opened the case and slowly pulled out a doll -the strings have rotted away, or were cut off during some unknown time in the past.
Lizzy gasped as she laid her eyes on the ancient remnants of what used to be Linsel.
The doll bore a very striking resemblance to the male who had agreed to tell his life story.
Orange hair cut into flairs and bangs that reached to the chin. A blue tailcoat, with gold and red piping, and white gloves. Shin length pants with boots that met them mid way up the calf.
"I thought to myself:......" Drossel began again, continuing his monotone recount, he gestured toward the female youth, "You see now that the puppet has tremendous value to me...." He stares past the girl at a doll he had made a short while ago.
"I was 6 years old then." He again locked his purple orbs on the young blond's green in front of him, "And that is where my passion for puppetry had began.
"Now that you know why I became a puppeteer, we may begin." Drossel then gave an audible noise that may have been enjoyment that he had finally found someone even remotely interested in listening to him.
"As I think to myself: after my mother passed, I became obsessed with my puppet craft. So much so, in fact, that my father had refused to acknowledge me as his own." The male slumped forward noisily, "I was a betrayal to the family... I had nothing to offer, so I had gained nothing in return." He then sat bolt upright once more and held up a finger, "However that hadn't stopped me from learning how to make such masterpieces." Drossel gestured to the dolls that adorned every wall in the Angel's Wing Antique store.
"Though I had not created my first puppet until I was 9 years old, I put many hours -many days- at a time into the study of the human body. I had intended to create something so lifelike that it would impress the queen herself!" He spread his arms wide to emphasize, "however.... as I think to myself: that was a dream that hadn't been one to live for very long..."
Drossel looked around the store once more, his amethyst eyes darting from one doll to the next until he seemed to decide on his quarry, then as with life or death urgency, he stood and walked to point on the wall where his gaze had locked. He looked at the doll he had chosen for reasons not quite yet known to little Lizzy. "I thought to myself: my father had not liked the doll on a spiritual level.." Keinz had forced his head upright again to stare with his cold purple hues once more, "He called it an abomination. He was a very religious man you see..... His belief was," he stopped as if to recall the words more accurately, then recites the words in a low, dead toned sing-along to the tune of London Bridges:
The male plucked the doll from the wall and walked back to the table. "This.....this was my first doll." He gazed down at the raven haired sprite. It resembled an older woman with long black hair and a white dress. "This doll was based on my mother..." He then tilted his head to the side once more as he stared, giving another audible clunk.
"What is dead should
Stay that way,
Stay that way,
Stay that way,
What is dead should
Stay that way,
My fair lady....."
Drossel appeared shaken by the song, as if he knew differently.
"My father made haste to remove me from the household. Placing me in the care of a close friend by the name of Ash Landers. Whom was more than anyone could have ever guessed at that time…”