Puppet Master 2 (1991)

I wake from a deep sleep.

I look across the room.

To a shelf high up.

A puppet sits there.

Its head pops up.

The head spins around.

It can’t be real.

A wooden puppet can’t be alive.

Then it speaks.

In a deep voice.

“Time to play,” it says.

I run to the door.


It’s standing before me.

Taller than me.

Arms reaching for me.

A gleam in its black eyes.

It can’t be.

But it is.

It’s alive.

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