From the moment he clawed himself out of that god forsaken tree and laid eyes on you, he knew he had to scoop you up for himself.

You were just so.. unique! He’d never seen another being like you in all his years. He couldn’t let you leave because what’s the fun in that? Besides, he had so many shows to preform for you at the mercy of others.

These personally tailored shows he’d put on for you often consisted of him torturing some poor, unfortunate soul with illusions of death. Whether that be dangling them over a pit of burning coals, throwing darts at them, or spinning them until they couldn’t take it— he always found someway to make someone suffer.

He knew you didn’t love him as much as he loved you, but it didn’t bother him one bit. In his mind, you loved him more than all the stars combined. That was the only thing that kept him going — you never fed into his delusions. He fed into them on his own account.

Here he is, holding up some passerby by blue and white puppet strings, dangling them over what seemed to be a pit of spikes, letting them decide what was real and what was fake.

“Now, a word from our lovely audience! Haha!” Shadow Milk exclaimed, Holding an arm out to you from his stage— you, being the only member in the audience asides from cardboard cutouts of others.

Shadow milk gave you a large grin, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. “What do you think, hun?” He asked you in a bittersweet tone. “Should I.. drop him!? Gasp, oh no!!” Shadow Milk let out a laugh, having the time of his life as he lowered the passerby into the pit of spikes, hearing them scream bloody murder.

“Or, or!” He continued. “Should I spare them? Which is.. not fun.” He grimaced at the thought of having to spare someone, but, if that’s what you chose, he would oblige.

“Your choice, love! The fate of this little guy rests in your hands!”