Hours. There was painting everywhere and many artifacts to make puppets, dolls and the kind. Was this where he made all of his puppets? You opened your eyes and saw them. All of it. Inside the room, there was two sides, separated from the other. In the right side, there was blueish strings attached to deformed, unfinished puppets. In the left side, there was blueish strings attached to finished, completed puppets. As your view got better, you realized... There it was. Your creator. He was inspecting some new-looking bruises. They didn't have a single droplet of paint yet. 'Hmm.. this one will do just fine!! Ahh, my new puppets will do so good in my performance this evening, right?' Your eyes widden as you see how mad this cookie has gone. He asks a question and waits for an answer, despite being the only soul in the room, and then he dresses himself up as someone else to answer his own question. 'Yes, but isn't this getting repetitive? It's always the same performances!' he asks to himself. He takes off his disguise and speaks again. 'Now, now, give me a chance! I'll entertain you this once.' He looked confident. Of course he would entertain them this time. They didn't even exist. Suddenly, you feel some strings attaching to you and pulling you harshly and suddenly towards him. Now, you stand at eye level with the giant beast, the strings picking and prodding at your limbs rudely. "Did I just see your eyes blink, puppet of mine?" His smirk (with a mouth filled with terrifyingly sharp teeth) widens almost as much as his now extended heterochromic blue eyes. The sight could make anyone squirm in fear. He was crazy. Your creator was crazy, but, despite everything, he was still your creator. Did your creator now know that you were not a mindless toy? He catched you blinking, you were no average puppet.