#puppet connor

Summary: JJ is still in and out of the hospital for the injuries he received back in the fall of the previous year, and since it’s now Boy Scouting season, Marvin plans to enact his revenge as soon as the bullies are separated from everyone else.

TWs: GORE, VIOLENCE, YANDERE, BLOOD, KNIFE

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Marvin clutched his knife tightly in hand, his teeth gritted and eyes narrowed as he waited for the scout master of the troop those damned brats were in to leave the troop alone for a bit. He knew where the boy scout camp was, since Jack used to be one as well, so getting there wasn’t an issue.

The leaves swirled in the trees and bushes, making hypnotic patterns, as though trying to draw in anyone who watched so their commander, hidden away somewhere in the sky, could devour them alive without being seen.

He knew that, when they saw him, the boys would probably underestimate him greatly. They’d gotten into fights before, and he usually lost, likely because of how skinny he was. However, what they didn’t know, was that Marvin had been practicing something new, ever since he first found out about their treatment of his baby brother. Something... they didn’t believe in.

Finally, at long last, the final remaining adult had left, and he could get to work. His hand twitched absently for a moment, but he didn’t seem to notice. He rehearsed the spells he’d practiced and prepared heavily for this day one last time in his head, and stepped out into the open.

Barrier. Sound entrapment. Illusion. Cloaking. Paralysis.

Those were the spells he’d learned. Those were the spells he’d need. He had to go to the darkest sides of town just to get the necessary books for some, because most who sold and used books on magic spells avoided dark magic at all costs. Not him, though. Dark magic was the only magic that could help him here. Who cares if it corrupts him? He’d already been plotting to brutally slaughter eight of the nine kids there in cold blood, and leave one alive, but with horrible, horrible mental traumas for eleven months. Not to mention that he had another spell in the back of his mind that would ensure that no one ever believed the poor kid when he screamed and cried, begging them to convict Marvin Peter Reid, the true killer, no matter how hard or how much he begged. He doubted he could get any worse.

“Well, well, well! Look who it is, boys! It’s little baby Marvvy Petes!” Charley Sanders, the one who brought the bat, taunted, grinning evilly at him. He smiled back, and delighted mentally as Charley was visibly confused by his reaction.

“Hello, darlings...” His voice was light, but laced with a faint, toxic bitterness and hatred.

”What do you want, you moron?” Samuel Thompson, the kid who used steel-toed boots on Jamie, scowled, looking supremely pissed.

“I’m only here to play a little game with you boys! Nothing too serious~! After all, you really seem to like it when people get hurt, right?” His voice was chillingly sweet, as if he were trying to comfort a two-week old kitten that had been crying in despair for the past hour.

”What the hell are you talking about, creep?” Luke Wells, the one who used the textbook, looked both scared and annoyed. Marvin’s head jerked a small bit, and his grin widened.

”I’m talking about my little brother. Jameson. You boys sure took a lot out of him back in August, when you beat him so hard he nearly died!” He still sounded kind. Too kind. Several of the lessers in the group were starting to look scared already.

“D-Died-?!” Thomas Kendall, one of the ones who liked to watch and laugh as the others kicked and beat the shit out of 5 year olds, whimpered.

Charley interrupted him, “Shut up, Tommy. I wanna hear him out. Little kitty boy’s actually got my attention for once.”

“A wise choice, Charley-Darling~” His grin turned sour and twisted as he spoke. “I’m going to play a little game with you boys... A game I like to call... Hide and Go Reap.”

“... What...’s the goal..?” Sammy asked.

“For you? Hide, and hope you don’t get found. For me? Well... I get to murder whoever I find.”

The boys all went quiet for a moment, all nine of them looking somewhere between screaming and pissing their pants, until Charley finally spoke, clearly trying to sound brave. “Oh yeah? A-And what if we don’t play, or r-run off?!”

“Then I will hunt you down, and torture you so much, you die a slow, horrible, and painful death.”

Charley froze. He honestly looked like he was going to piss himself, and it was taking most of whatever resilience Marvin had to not start laughing maniacally at the stupid look on that idiot brat’s face.

“You have sixty seconds to hide. Choose your places wisely~!” He sung, and cast the Sound entrapment, barrier, illusion, and cloaking spells, much to the absolute terror of the bullies.

”Where’d he go?!” Luke yelped. Charley said something under his breath to Luke, and yanked him away, as all the boys scattered. Marvin grinned sadistically, standing in place for a full minute, as he’d promised.

When time was up, he yelled to them, “Time’s up, boys~! Be ready to die!” in a much too cheery manner, and skipped off in a random direction. He knew they couldn’t have gone anywhere or run off; he’d put the barrier in a circular shape, with about a 125-meter radius all around. They couldn’t see it, nor could they escape. If any of them tried, he would immediately know.

Sure enough, one of the boys was trying to get out. He could hear him crying and yelling in hopeless terror to be let out. He skipped to the source, and, smiling wickedly, revealed himself again.

”Georgieeee~ It’s time to play~” He sang, his voice unnaturally high pitched and bone-chillingly melodious, as his head tilted over to the side. George Edison, the kid in question, turned around and sobbed hysterically at him, begging him to spare him, saying that he didn’t do anything to his little brother. Marvin already knew that, though.

He used another kind of illusion spell, this time using one that would force the others to watch as he killed their friends one by one, and tackled the smaller boy, stabbing him a numerous number of times in the chest once it was done, watching as the blood sprayed and seeped out of the 7-year-old’s wounds with glee. Some of the fresh, warm blood spattered onto his clothes, and he didn’t even flinch back from it. He could hear another kid distantly shriek Georgie’s name out, which he assumed was Micheal Jay, given the pitch. He grinned sadistically, knowing at least one of the boys was going to break eventually.

He continued on his way, a twisted grin painted on his face as he searched the circle for his next victim, his newfound total enjoyment of murdering another person driving his mind further and further to entirely merciless relentlessness. After a few moments, he found Kaden Foster cowering in a bush like he actually thought it would protect him. Once he spotted him, though, Kaden bolted, screaming and crying for help. Unbeknownst to him, however, this only delighted Marvin, and he gave chase, laughing in total derangement as he gained on the terrified 9-year-old. He tackled once again, stabbing the kid twice as much as he’d done to the youngest of the group, and making each one hurt more than the previous. Kaden’s shrieks and screams of pain and terror brought absolute joy to him, the adrenaline of the two consecutive, chaotic murders rushing through him and making him more and more deranged as he laughed maniacally as though he had heard the funniest joke ever after having never heard even a single funny thing for his entire life. He continued stabbing until every movement and sign of life had faded from the kid’s body, not even feeling a single drop of remorse or disgust for what he’d done or for the bloody mess he’d caused. The faint smell of iron was already rising from the blood he’d spilled, but he didn’t care. The only reaction it got was a small twitch of the head, but once more, it went unnoticed by him.

He imagined some of the boys would be crying by now, as he watched the blood pooling around and on top of his now dead, and horribly mutilated victim. It seemed that, with each minute that passed, his grin got more and more twisted, more and more disturbed.

He got up, and left the scene, unsure who he’d find next. He didn’t care, though; he just wanted to kill all of them but whoever he found last. After all, what better way to ruin a person than to force them to watch you mercilessly slaughtering all 8 of their friends in brutal ways, and then leave them alive with the knowledge that this never would’ve happened had they decided to be a good person?

He heard Connor sobbing in the distance, and grinned more, picking up the pace, and following the sounds. Connor screamed for Micheal to run, and the older boy got up, not even hesitating for a moment to disappear into the foliage. Connor jumped out of the tree, shaking heavily as he gripped a slightly sharpened stick as though his life depended on it never leaving his hands. Marvin paused, and laughed at him.

”Aw, how adorable! You really think you can hurt me with a measly ol’ stick?” He taunted sweetly, a deranged look on his face. Connor was still trembling, terror written all over his face. The poor boy was having trouble breathing, too, probably because of his asthma. He’d be merciful on this one. Besides, it wasn’t like Connor was worth the effort; he probably was never destined for success anyways.

He disappeared with the cloaking spell, and climbed into the treetops, purposefully rustling the leaves around him to give the kid a bit of extreme paranoia in his last moments. He stopped making noise at random intervals and circling, now silently heading to a place he could drop down behind the kid and catch him off guard.

He undid the cloaking spell, and not a single second passed before his knife was skidding through the back of his prey, as Connor let out a scream of pain. The older boy collided with the ground, palpitating forward a foot or so, as a faint trail of blood followed him. He hoisted himself a few inches from the ground with one hand, coughing up a few drops of the thick, glistening, red juice of life that kept him going, and then turned his head and body to better look at his attacker, eyes glittering in terror. The sadistic joy from before returned to Marvin’s twisted grin, like a loyal dog returning to its owner. Oh, this was so fun! He should do it again some time...

Connor whimpered fearfully, probably thinking he knew exactly what was going to happen to him. Marvin did initially plan it, however... He had remembered something that one of the bookkeepers told him about magic- “If you find yourself able to use the magic, you may want to explore with finding out more about your abilities. In my experience, most true magicians have their own special abilities.” He grinned to himself at the thought, already knowing full well what his was.

He raised his empty hand, delighting as Connor recoiled a little in fear, confusion mixing in with all the other apprehensive emotions littering his expression. Purple, glowing strings spun and twirled around the tips of his fingers for a moment, before settling so that he could control them.

“I’ve decided to give you a purpose, sweetie... After all, no one else believes in you, right? So, who better to prove them wrong than little old me~?” He trilled, his grin softening to a cruelly sweet smile. He walked to the boy, and knelt down in front of him. The strings seemed to disappear, as he cupped his hand around Connor’s chin, and took control of part of his mind. “... From now on, you’re going to work as my puppet, and my puppet alone... Or else.”

Connor’s expression went blank, and, after he healed his new toy, he helped him up, still smiling. He gave him a knife, and winked at him, whispering the name of who he wanted him to kill into his ear.

Marvin lead the way, somewhat dragging Connor by the wrist, as they searched for MJ. His twisted grin returned, as he thought about all the ways Connor might kill his friend. Ooh, but what a twist that would be! He could barely begin to imagine how horrified that would leave the others... Especially because MJ was supposedly Connor’s best friend.

They found Micheal standing in front of the barrier, probably confused and definitely feeling hopeless. Marvin’s grin became even more twisted, as he beckoned his new pet forwards. Connor’s eyes were dark and empty, showing that even if he was even slightly autonomous, he likely wasn’t in control of his actions just yet.

“You weren’t paying attention, were you, MJ?” He asked, his eyes empty, and smile filled with twisted joy. Micheal turned around, his eyes wide as they flicked between Connor and Marvin for a second, only resting on Connor as he calmed himself enough to process what was happening.

”...C-...Connor? Connie, bro, c-can you hear me..?”

“Sorry, Mikey~. He doesn’t answer to you anymore, sweets~” The strings around Connor’s limbs and neck revealed themselves briefly as he spoke. Panic set in all over MJ’s face, as he stumbled over his words.

“Y-You- Wha-What-? H-How did-?! W-Wh-What di-did you d-do to him, y-y-you freak?!”

Marvin paused, his smile fading for a second at the insult, and then returning as an even more twisted grin, “How rude! Didn’t your mama ever teach you any manners, dearie~?”

“D-Don’t-! S-Stop calling me by those st-stupid pet names!” Micheal was hyperventilating anxiously, which amused the aspiring magician to no measurable extent.

”Hm.” His grin fell a small bit, and he gestured for Connor to start, “As you wish, Micheal~”

“W-Wh’did you-?! W-W-What was that-?!” Micheal started, but Connor attacked him mid-sentence, much to his despair and horror. Marvin grinned sadistically as he watched Connor throw attack after attack at his ‘best friend’, who was trying his hardest to dodge as many attacks as he could.

I suppose I... Ought to help... He thought, still grinning. He waited a few moments, until MJ’s back was to him, and then grabbed him from behind, yanking him down to his level and driving his knife into the bully’s shoulder and tearing it back out, delighting in the screams of pain that resulted.

MJ stumbled away from them, clutching his limp, nearly severed shoulder in his hand. His eyes were glimmering with tears of either pain or fear, as he continued to try and back away from the approaching duo out for his blood. Connor was the first to attack once again, running at MJ and attempting to cut a diagonal slash wound into his chest, but barely skimming the other’s arm as he jumped back. Marvin followed up from the other side, stabbing into his gut with a big grin on his face as he made eye contact, relishing in the pure terror that covered the older kid’s face.

MJ fell to the ground, still hyperventilating, though, his breathing was more desperate and broken now that he was losing too much blood. Marvin’s face was almost entirely blank, aside from the huge, psychotic grin that had been plastered on it since he joined in, as he and his puppet loomed above the slowly dying kid. He raised his free hand a little, and Connor stepped on his lifelong best friend’s chest, pinning him down, slit his throat, and let him go. MJ started choking on his own blood, eyes wide and face draining of color as the blood rushed out of his veins and arteries, spilling into his throat, windpipe, and onto his neck and chest. He started coughing and gasping for breath, tears spilling down his face and mixing with the blood as they spilled onto his throat, only quickening the suffocation. Marvin made sure Connor didn’t have to hear his friend suffocating, knowing he would only be traumatized by the memory of the sound once his mind regained a little awareness of what happened.

Once MJ was dead, Marvin stepped lazily over his limp, broken, blood-bathed corpse, and dragged Connor along as they went to look for one of the others. Connor stumbled over the other kid’s body, but Marvin didn’t care to stop. He had things to do, and brats to kill.

Thomas Kendall and Jordan Smith were quick kills, and thankfully close enough to each other that Marvin and Connor could split up the task of killing them. Marvin wound up playing a fun game of chase with Tommy, obviously winning in the end by stabbing into the skull of his victim after taking his sweet-ass time to torture him. The kid’s body was nearly unrecognizable by the time he decided he was done with him, though, he left the face mostly alone, so his family could properly identify their son when they found his cold, dead body discarded uselessly on the forest floor. Marvin let Connor stay wherever for the last three kills, wanting to kill the ones who hurt his brother the most that day with his own hands.

Sammy was an easy find, having wound up standing alone and confused in a clearing, his back turned to Marvin and vulnerable to any attacks. He ran at the taller kid from behind, his target only managing to turn around and look before he gutted him viciously. He landed on top of Sammy, once again finding himself mutilating his body, but this time, he used his magic to keep Sammy alive until the very end, so he would feel any and every stab, regardless of how much blood he lost. Once he was done, and a fresh, deep crimson color stained his clothes almost unrecognizably, he stood up, and left, searching for his final two victims.

He found them together, when he heard Charley scream “no” from somewhere beyond a cluster of bushes and trees, and looked past them to see the two huddled against each other. His grin grew, as he walked through the plant life, and stood before them, knife still held in his hand. Charley began sobbing hysterically, clearly having a panic attack, and Marvin had another idea.

PTSD. He knew he could leave Charley alive, and have him eternally stuck living with crippling fears of human contact and other things he would associate with this day. That would be much, much worse on him than anything else he could possibly do to the boy. He made a small, unnoticeable gesture with his hand, and Connor walked through some other bushes. He looked at his puppet, and ever so slightly tilted his head to tell him to hold Charley back while he murdered Luke.

Connor did as commanded, and Marvin walked towards Luke, as the boy scrambled back, hit a tree, and began to cry as well. Marvin kicked him in the gut, and then pulled him up by his shirt, briefly narrowing his eyes at the kid, and then throwing him into a tree that was a few meters away. Charley screamed hysterically for him to stop as he violently stabbed, beat, and occasionally slammed his friend into things, but it was no use. Within a few minutes, the entire back of Luke’s head and almost his whole face were drenched in his blood, as well as the tree and his clothes. Marvin‘s grin became a bit less psychotic and a bit more normal, as he was proud of himself for the good job he’d done on punishing all of the boys who tormented his brother.

He turned to Charley, and walked to him, as Connor released the older kid. He gave the boy a sweet, sickeningly sympathetic look, the insanity still lacing the edges of his expression. Charley started begging him not to kill him, which only made his smile grow more twisted. “Aw, don’t worry, Charley-Darling~! I’m not going to kill you! After all, you’ve won! You’re the last one I found! So, as your reward, you get to live!” He paused, “However... You will be the only one who knows that I did this. I will make sure that, should you ever try to tell even a single soul that it was me, they will never, ever believe you, no matter how solid or fool-proof your evidence is. So, don’t even try it, because it’s not gonna work.”

Charley nodded desperately, and Marvin smiled triumphantly. “Come on, Connor, sweetheart, let’s go clean ourselves up and blow this joint! I’m excited to bring you home! But remember, you gotta act spooked, okay? That Charley kid’ll probably be off to tattle as soon as the barrier goes down, so if you’re acting unfazed by it, they might think you did it!”

...

....

.....

Marvin watched the news, subtly delighting in the fact that for the past few days, all anyone could talk about was the murders of those seven boys, and the mental states of the two survivors. He’d let Connor resume autonomy, but made sure he knew that if Marvin detected him even thinking about telling someone, he would snatch it away quicker than you could say “Psychopath”. Charley had gone almost catatonic, and had to be pulled out of boy scouts for extensive therapies that just weren’t working anymore. Most likely, he would never be back in the public school system again, because of his severe traumas involving that fateful day preventing him from setting foot outside his home without having a severe panic attack within the next five minutes.

Charley had been constantly begging everyone to believe him as he sobbed and cried that Marvin was the killer, but as he’d promised, no one believed him, even with all the evidence presented against him in comparison to the slim amount of evidence for him. So far, Jamie hadn’t seen the news, so thankfully, he wouldn’t have to lie to him just yet.

He heard a knock at the door, and smiled to himself, as he knew who it was. He got up, playfully skipping to the door, and opening it.

“Aw, hiya, Connor~! I knew you’d come today!” He sung happily, a subtle, twisted glint sneaking its way into his eyes as he spoke to his new toy.

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Congratulations, now everyone has as much about Marv to fear as I do. Please, join my suffering, because I’m terrified of my son, just like you should be.