The Toymaker

by Vladmir Cavallo

First published

A horror story revolving around a mad stallion who makes ponies into dolls.

Dolls are like little people. Some of them can be your friends. Some of them can be your enemies. They're magical little things, able to take on a whole slew of different forms and roles to fit the will of whoever controls them, but ultimately, they serve to bring a smile to every little filly's face.

This is the tale of one stallion who has always had admiration for these objects...an admiration that quickly grew into an obsession. An obsession stitched by tragedy, and stuffed with blood and tears. An obsession that drove him into madness, drove him to form his delusional goal in life...

To bring a smile to every little filly's face.

And if they couldn't?

He'd do it for them.

The Little Shop of Horrors

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"But Rarity! Can't we just look around for a bit?"

"Sweetie Belle, I've already told you, no means no."

The two siblings were standing in the middle of the main Ponyville street, others trotting to and fro with their afternoon errands. Rarity in particular was heading to buy new supplies for the rather large order she had received earlier, and Sweetie Belle had insisted that she follow along, to the fashionista's mild irritation.

But before she could even reach the first store on her list, a particular shop had managed to catch Sweetie Belle's eye: none other than the small toy store that was on the corner of the street. And now, Sweetie Belle was practically begging for her sister to let her go in. She had heard a bit about this place from her friends at school, and they all loved it. So now that the opportunity had presented itself, she wasn't going to give it up.

"Pleeeeeaaaase?" she asked once again, giving Rarity the best puppy-dog expression she could muster. Her efforts were finally rewarded as Rarity gave an exasperated sigh.

"Oh, fine," Rarity conceded. "But I'm afraid we can't buy anything. I have to conserve my budget if we're going to have anywhere near enough funds to acquire all of these supplies."

At this point, Sweetie didn't really care. She was just so excited to finally be able to see this place, letting out an ecstatic giggle as she made her way through the door, almost faster than Rarity could keep up with.

There was the soft ring of a bell as the two made their way into the store, and the sight before them made Sweetie gasp in awe. The place was truly a young pony's paradise. The walls shone with a white, gleaming sheen, the blue carpet beneath her hooves was dotted with shapes and patterns of all sorts of colors, and the brown wooden shelves that lined the walls all bore plush toys that were in the likeness of ponies.

In the middle of the building was a small desk, where a particular unicorn stallion was repairing a broken doll. The toy, needle, and roll of string were levitating in front of him, working to stitch together a tear in the doll's side. His coat was of a dark turquoise color, and his eyes were a bright orange. His light grey mane and tail were somewhat unkempt, with a few tufts of hair sticking out in places, and he wore a pair of black, circular glasses. His cutie mark was that of a white pony plush.

It took him a few moments to realize that someone had entered the building, and he set his current work aside to give the two a warm, welcoming smile. "It appears that I have customers." The stallion spoke in a voice that sounded light-hearted and somewhat breezy, as well as carrying an almost calming characteristic. "Terribly sorry if I was distracted. Fillies these days don't seem to treat their toys with as much safety as they used to."

Stepping from out from behind the desk, he was revealed to be wearing a light grey shirt with a vest that was lined with black and white stripes, and a red bowtie. In some respects, what with his formal attire, it seemed like he came straight from Canterlot, but there was still something about him, whether it was that joyful twinkle in his eye or his mildly ruffled appearance, that made him look old and young at the same time.

While Sweetie Belle was racing around the shop and looking through the merchandise, the stallion walked over to Rarity. "I suppose that this would be your sibling?" he said. "She's quite the energetic one."

"Oh. Yes, I suppose," Rarity said, still looking a bit uncomfortable. The longer they spent here, the less time she had to begin work on that order that was looming over head.

Then, something seemed to click in the stallion's mind as his eyes lit up in realization. "Aha! You must be Rarity from Ponyville! I thought I recognized that mane of yours. Well, Miss Rarity, what might you be here for? Something for your sibling, perhaps?"

Rarity stammered somewhat, trying to come up with a good explanation. "No, not really. Actually, I'm afraid I have to leave soon. I have a very large order to fill, and..."

"Aw, c'mon, Rarity!" Sweetie Belle said from a few feet away. "Can't I just buy something? I'll help out even more, I promise!"

"No, Sweetie Belle, you help enough as is." Rarity tried to console her sister, but she was getting incredibly antsy. The stallion who was talking to her earlier, however, gave the mare a quizzical look.

"Why not? Your sister obviously loves my work, and I try my best to make people happy," he said, sounding a bit disappointed.

"And I'm fairly sure that others appreciate that, but we simply must be taking our leave." Rarity used her magic to yank Sweetie Belle to her side, and the doll that the filly had been holding dropped to the floor in a heap. "Perhaps we'll stop by another time, but if I don't get these supplies-"

While she was trying to explain her predicament to the owner of the store, she was about to open the door that led back to the Ponyville streets...

Only to find that the door was locked.

"Oh. I understand."

The toymaker spoke out once again, this time sounding a lot less welcoming than he had before. As Rarity turned around to face him, he regarded her with an eerily blank stare.

"You just care more about yourself and what you want than making your friends and family happy. Is that it?" He continued to speak to Rarity, his voice now dissolving into a fairly ominous monotone. Sweetie Belle was now silent, startled by this drastic shift in the stallion's behavior.

"What...I didn't say anything about that!" Rarity said indignantly.

"Ponies like you are the reason why the world is such a sad and lonely place," the toymaker said, now slowly walking towards Rarity and Sweetie Belle. "Tell me, what's wrong with being happy? Is being happy just too good for you?"

Rarity, at this point, didn't know what to say. Sweetie Belle was now clinging to Rarity's legs, shivering slightly out of fear. Suddenly, this place seemed quite different from what the other ponies had said about.

After a moment of dead silence, the toymaker was just about a foot and a half away from his customers. His behavior was not only abnormal and creepy, but furthered the schism in his apparent age. He was speaking with more simple words, and his voice almost sounded child-like.

"Your sister deserves better, Rarity. So I'm going to give her what you cannot."

Before Rarity could respond, the toymaker's horn began glowing with a bright blue light. Sweetie Belle was surrounded by a magical glow of the same color, and in a flash, the stallion made a run for one of the doors near the back of the building. Sweetie Belle was floating in the air alongside him, the filly now thrashing around to escape her captor's telekinetic grasp.

Rarity, after an initial moment of shock, began running after the stallion in an attempt to catch up to him before he could reach the door, but with no such luck. Right before the mare could reach him, the toymaker had ran into the back room and slammed the door shut, Rarity colliding with it not soon afterwards.

A series of soft clicking sounds signified that the door had been locked, but that didn't stop Rarity from pounding into it with all the force she could muster. She was half-screaming and half-sobbing as her attempts at stopping this mad pony became increasingly futile...


Meanwhile, behind the door, Sweetie Belle was in just as much of a hectic state, worriedly glancing at the stallion who had basically kidnapped her. The room that they had been taken into was almost pitch-black, the dim glow from the toymaker's horn being the only source of light. "W-w-what are you going to..."

Sweetie Belle statement quickly trailed off when the lights seemingly flickered on of their own accord, and the room was revealed. It was probably more akin to a storage room, with the walls and floor being nothing but bare stone. The place had an odor that Sweetie Belle didn't quite recognize...the smell of blood.

To her horror, she looked around and noticed the corpses of various ponies chained to the walls. Some were young and some were old, but all of them had slashed throats and their eyes were missing from their sockets, as well as having rather large cuts through their stomachs. And against the wall was what appeared to be a working bench, with a large toolbox sitting right next to it.

Sweetie Belle was about to let out a mortified scream, but was quickly silenced when the toymaker put a hoof to her mouth, still holding her in place with his magic. "Shhh. Don't worry. I'm going to make everything better now." He spoke with a smile, like he was trying to be comforting, but the situation in which the filly found herself only furthered her fear.

The toymaker walked over to the bench and set Sweetie Belle on top of it, his magic still providing an unrelenting grip on the filly. Sweetie Belle's protests had now given way to terrified whimpering as the toymaker rummaged through the nearby toolbox. After a bit of searching, he managed to find the objects that he needed: a rather jagged knife...and a stitching needle. He also brought out a pair of buttons and a long roll of string.

"After this, you won't feel any more pain. You see, dolls don't feel pain. Only happiness."

Those were the last words that Sweetie Belle heard the toymaker say, the knife drawing closer to her face. And the toymaker still smiling as he began his work.


The agonized shriek of Sweetie Belle brought Rarity, who had been slumped across the floor near the door in exhaustion, back to her senses and making her stand upright in an alarmed matter.

"Sweetie Belle!" she yelled, once again slamming at the door, repeating her sister's name, her sobbing and Sweetie's screaming clashed together. It wasn't long before Rarity gave up on trying to break through the door, and instead looked for a way in which she could escape this place, before that psychopath got to her next. She wildly looked around, but her options seemed minimal. There weren't any windows in this place, and the front door was already looked.

Her eyes eventually fell upon the desk in the center of the building, then upon the front door. Forcing all of her concentration into this one effort, Rarity's horn began glowing with a dark blue hue. The desk slowly moved off the ground, and towards the door. Then, with all of her might, the unicorn drove her makeshift battering ram right through the door, which broke apart and allowed Rarity exit.

Unfortunately, it was still a good deal into the afternoon, and needless to say, something like breaking down the front door to a shop was bound to draw attention. Surely enough, the ponies in the nearby area immediately turned their heads towards the store, and towards Rarity as she walked out from it, breathing heavily due to both emotion and exertion due to her spell.

Before Rarity could bring herself to try and speak to the crowd assembled there, they were already panicking, with various cries of "Madmare! There's a madmare on the loose!" being thrown into the air as ponies ran all over the street.

"No! You have to listen to me!" Rarity yelled, unsuccessfully trying to calm the crowd down. "That store, there's...that stallion, he's...my sister...she..."

Her speech quickly trailed off when Rarity found herself alone, the other ponies now making their best effort into trying to stay away from her. She already began to notice others closing their windows and shutting their doors, and Rarity just looked between them in blank horror. Not only did no one believe her, but now everypony thought she was crazy for breaking some store door open, while that toymaker was in there doing who knows what to Sweetie Belle.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

Rarity slumped down onto the ground as the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Sweetie Belle was gone. Perhaps even dead, if those screams were anything to judge by. She started sobbing uncontrollably, now regretting her decision more than ever. There should've been something, anything that she could've done to save her, but now it was too late.

Giving that store, that accursed store, a hard gaze, Rarity soon began running, lest that stallion find his next victim. She was running for Carousel Boutique, the only place where she could think to go, in light of her recent actions.

She could only hope, through some stroke of luck or fortune, that Sweetie Belle wasn't dead.


It had been several hours after the incident, and Rarity now in her bedroom, still wailing her eyes out into her pillow. Her friends had tried to talk to her earlier, and Pinkie Pie in particular offered some cake in an attempt to cheer her up, but those efforts were in vain, and eventually, they just stopped trying. Now it was about dusk, and Rarity wasn't showing any signs of calming down.

However, there was a small knock on the door, to which Rarity didn't respond until a squeaky, accented voice started speaking to her from behind the door.

"Uhm...Rarity? Can we come in?"

Rarity didn't respond verbally, but her crying did lessen considerably. That voice belonged to Apple Bloom, one of Sweetie Belle's friends. The filly decided to open the door, and it was revealed that Scootaloo was there, too. Scootaloo was carrying a saddlebag with her, a slight rattling noise audible as she and her friend walked to the side of Rarity's bed.

"We heard tha' yer really upset 'bout Sweetie Belle runnin' away..." Apple Bloom started to say.

"She didn't...run away..." Rarity said, face still buried in her pillow. "He...he took her..."

Apple Bloom exchanged a worried glance with her friend, but continued nonetheless. "We thought tha' this migh' cheer you up a bit. See? It looks just like her!"

As Apple Bloom reached into the saddlebag that her friend wore and pulled out their gift, Rarity immediately jumped off of the bed and stood in front of them, prompting a somewhat frightened reaction.

The mare that usually put so much effort into keeping her appearance in check was now a sight for sore eyes. Her coat, mane, and tail were extremely ruffled. There was eyeshadow running down her face. One set of her false eyelashes was missing. And her eyes, bloodshot from crying so much, were as wide as dinner plates, looking at the gift in shock.

It was a doll. A doll that had an uncanny resemblance to Sweetie Belle, with buttons in replacement of eyes and a stitched-on smile.

"Where did you get that?" she asked, her voice dangerously soft.

"From that old guy who runs the toy shop!" Scootaloo responded. "Y'know, the one whose door you broke down for some reason?"

Whatever response Rarity would've made, however, was cut off by Apple Bloom's startled yelp as the doll she held started moving around on its own accord. This caused the filly to drop the doll, which starting twitching around on the floor as the three ponies stared at it for a while.

Then, suddenly, the doll stood up and turned to face Rarity, who was totally dumbstruck by the sight before her. This fear was only intensified as one of the toy's button-eyes fell right off, revealing eyelids that had apparently been stitched shut. However, that eye managed to open itself with a revolting noise that sounded like peeling flesh, and trails of a gooey, red substance stretched between the two eyelids as they opened. They revealed what wasn't an eye so much as a soulless, black hole.

The doll's mouth then opened in a similar manner, revealing a malformed set of jagged and incredibly sharp teeth that were twisted into a hideous grin. Staring at Rarity with its single open eye, the doll spoke in a ragged, horrible voice...

"Goodnight."

A Tainted Imagination

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The pitch-black unicorn stallion glared at his challenger with eyes red as flame, a mixture of curiosity and amusement present in the smirk on his face. The charred battlefield that they stood in was filled with the discarded bodies of fallen soldiers, all slain by the single pony who stood before his arch-nemesis at last. His yellow coat was marred by dirt and debris, and his dark blue eyes were returning the gaze of his opponent. His wings were spread, ready to take flight at any given moment.

"You would dare to battle me? You don't know who you're dealing with, boy! I am the lord over all things that oppose harmony and order! I am not like the silly creatures that you have fought in the past, for I am Chaos itself!" After he was finished boasting, the stallion let out a deep, booming laugh as lightning began flashing behind him.

"Tell me where you've taken the Princess, you fiend!" the pegasus demanded, with his yellow coat marred with dirt and debris and his face twisted into a loathing scowl.

"I have a better idea. How about I show you?" With that statement, Chaos's horn was illuminated by a bright red light, followed by a magical, spherical barrier materializing next to him. Trapped within its surface was none other than Princess Celestia, who appeared to be in a comatose state.

"However, I'm afraid that your efforts thus far have been in vain. My armies are marching through Canterlot, and soon, there will be no kingdom for you to even save!" Chaos indulged in another burst of laughter, the glow of his horn ceasing and the bubble of magic disappearing in a flash.

"I have not traveled this far to be defeated by someone like you!" the pegasus yelled. "Have at you, foul beast!"

He took to the air, speeding towards his opponent with the speed of a bullet. But before he could ram into Chaos, a sound began reverbeating through his subconscious.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

"Stitches! It's time to go to bed!"

As the voice began speaking in his mind, the pegasus's surroundings melted away, and the world he once knew dissolved into a black void...


"Aw, Mommy! I was just about to start the big fight!"

The voice of the small colt carried disappointment with it as he gave his mother a somewhat upset stare with his bright orange eyes, which seemed to grow bigger when seen through the lens of his almost ridiculously large glasses.

Placed nearby were two dolls: One of them was fashioned after a yellow pegasus with black hair, and the other looked like a black unicorn with a flowing, dark grey mane. To the side was a doll that looked like Princess Celestia, and other toys littered the surrounding area, looking like they were just tossed to the side.

"You can finish your game tomorrow, honey." The colt's mom patted her son's messy black hair, and he seemed to calm down somewhat. "Here, let me put away your things for you..."

The mare then used the magic of her horn to move the assorted plush toys around, placing them all in one neat pile. However, Stitches let out a terrified gasp in response to this action, and his eyes widened considerably.

"Nononono!" he said, running over to where his mom had placed all of his toys. "Chaos has to be over in the corner, or he'll start messing with the others! And Stormbringer has to be over here next to the door, so he can keep watch for any intruders! And..."

As the young pony spoke, he began running across his fairly spacious room in a frenzy, placing the plushes where he thought that they should go. His mother just watched with a bemused smile. Stitches was a turquoise blur as he organized his toys. With his need for everything to be properly organized...he was so much like his father.

Once he was done, he was exhausted from all of the running he had done, walking back over to his mother and collapsing next to her pale yellow legs. Stitches was then slowly brought into the air by his mother's magic, and moved over to his bed. The colt was then set down onto the soft sheets, and a blanket was draped around him.

She then trotted back over to the door, giving one last look across the room before turning out the lights.

"Goodnight, Stitches."


A few minutes later, Stitches's parents were on the porch that stood next to their front door, the moonlight softly illuminating the Canterlot streets. Even in spite of the late hour, there were still occasionally ponies who walked buy on some midnight errands.

"Mary, I understand that you might be worried about the rumors that have been going around recently," the stallion said, trying to comfort his partner. His pale blue skin seemed to shine in the night air, and his bright, pale greene yes stood out in a similar manner. "But you don't need to worry. Stitches will be safe."

"You can't just toss the chances of something happening away like that," the mare, Mary, said. She was anxiously pacing around the stone porch as she spoke, starting to sweat out of nervousness. "These people are going to stop at nothing to make their point. What if they go after Stitches? Or, even worse, what if they go after us? What will our little colt do without us, Frederick?"

"Mary. The chances of that happening are very slim." Frederick now spoke more directly, seeing as gentle consoling didn't seem to work. "If you keep dwelling on every little thing that could possibly happen, you're going to run yourself dry. Now, let's go inside. We have to restock the shop tomorrow, and you know much much time it takes to prepare for that."

The mare let out a sigh, but before she could give a verbal response, there was a bright flash. A magical blast of energy was then fired, its exact source unknown, impacting with Mary and causing her to land in a heap right next to the door. She didn't appear to be breathing, and her eyes were glazed over.

Frederick was caught off-guard by the sudden attack. Then, his horn began glowing dangerously as his head whipped around to try and find the source of the projectile. However, he got more than he bargained for when four unicorn ponies, all dressed in black jumpsuits and blank masks, teleported on either side of him. He quickly found himself unable to move as their horns began flaring with a white light.

Then, with a bright flash and a muted scream on the part of the stallion, there were two unmoving bodies on the porch, and three of the four attackers had disappeared just as abruptly as they had arrived. The one that remained, however, shot a blast of magic onto the nearby porch, which left a marking that looked sort of like the cutie mark of Celestia, but pitch-black and with an X drawn through the center circle.

The unicorn then proceeded to focus a beam of magic towards another section of the area, scrawling out a message before disappearing without a trace. The message, as roughly and hastily written as it was, was still readable:

THE SAVIOR HAS ABANDONED YOU


The sun that rose the next morning revealed the lifeless bodies of Frederick and Mary, still sprawled out across the smooth porch, and ponies from across Canterlot were all crowding around their doorstep with a mixture of curiosity and fear. There were two of the Royal Guards looking around the scene, and one of them managed to locate the symbol that was presumably drawn by the perpetrator. The pegasus gave a scowl when he recognized the symbol.

"The Eclipse." He muttered the name under his breath as if it were the vilest of profanity. They were a group of extremists that had cropped up, trying to demonstrate the ineffectiveness of Celestia's law enforcement. And, for some reason that was probably only understood by their own, they decided to do this by seeing how many innocents they could get away with killing.

The investigation, however, was abruptly cut off when the front door opened, revealing none other than Stitches, whose expression almost instantly turned into one of shock and horror. The crowd gave a gasp of shock, and even the guards, who were known for being straight-faced in just about any situation, had a momentary lapse in composure.

There was an almost deadly silence, with Stitches just staring in disbelief, and the two police officers not knowing what to say. They knew that the two had a young colt, but he was incredibly sheltered and rarely interacted with any other individuals. The young pony slowly began moving towards the body of his mother, face still stuck in the same expression, moving as if he were in a daze. Once he reached his mother, he gave her a slight poke with his hoof.

"Mommy...wake up," he said in a soft whisper, the weak poking now giving way to frantic shaking as he continued to say that one phrase with increasing amounts of panic. Eventually, he just fell to the ground in exhaustion, and at this point any coherent speech was drowned out by gasping sobs.

"We're afraid that your parents have been-" One of the guards had managed to regain his composure enough to speak, but he didn't get far before Stitches interrupted him with a quiet, but forceful statement.

"Go away."

The two guards each gave the colt a mildly annoyed glare. "Excuse me?" he said, the pony's voice now developing a sudden edge. "Young colt, don't think for even a moment that you can tell us-"

"GO AWAY!"

As Stitches turned to face the two guards and gave that scream, his horn began flaring dangerously with magic. Before the guards could react, though, a bright flash was produced from the unicorn, signaling a massive magical discharge. Once the flash subsided, the two guards that had been standing before him only seconds before...weren't there.

Stitches was panting heavily due to the spell, and the crowd stared at him in awe. The colt gave a sideways glance at them, before slowly dragging the bodies of his parents through the front door of the house, and slamming the door shut. The group of ponies was quick to disperse, leaving Stitches in the house. Alone.


Stitches started crying. Crying up to the point where his eyes start running out of tears to shed, and his lungs only allowed him desperate, gasping breaths as he clutched his mother and father. He was always a pony that heavily relied on his parents for comfort and support. Most other ponies weren't too fond of him.

It was then that he noticed that the light from the workroom had been left on, and then a thought came to him. He had always loved his plush toys. They were his own world, a place where his imagination could roam free. His father had even told him that "anything can happen. All you have to do it believe."

His parents could be brought back to life. He believed it. His childish mind believed that there was a way for his parents to live. And he knew how he would do it.

So, he dragged the two bodies into the workroom and closed the door shut. His father had showed him the basics of making plushes, seeing as he was supposed to eventually take over the business. So, he knew what he had to do.

He would start with his mother. Sprawling her out amongst the floor, Stitches began rummaging around the room for the tools that he would need. Eventually, he managed to locate a long piece of string, a pair of scissors, a stitching needle, some glue and two pairs of buttons. Not the most ideal tools for the job, but they would have to do.

He started with the eyes. Giving a deep breath, he used his magic to bring the scissors closer to the mare's face, her face transfixed in an expression of horror. Summoning all of his willpower, he plunged the device straight through her eye, a squelching sound signifying that he had hit his mark. As he brought the scissors back out of her skull, the eyeball then detached from the socket with a slight popping noise, the blades of the scissors still skewered through the pupil. Shaking the tool around in the air, the eye flew off from the tool, rolling to the ground a good distance away.

After repeating the process with the other eye, Stitches manually closed his mother's open eyelids, and brought out the needle and string. He then began stitching the eyes closed, eyes narrowed in concentration. Skin was a bit easier to go through than fabric, but it was still doable. After the eyes had been sewn closed, he brought out two of the buttons and glued them to the eyelids. He then sewed her mouth closed in a similar fashion.

Moving on, he trailed down towards the mare's stomach. Giving a nervous gulp, he brought out the scissors once again, the steel now stained with blood. He then brought them down with all of his might, right into the pony's skin. Face now contorted due to the exertion, the device began slowly tearing through the flesh, making a rather rough cut. After cutting open a sufficient amount of skin, it was then peeled back to reveal the innards of the pony. Stitches gave a startled wince and a slight gasp at the sight. This wasn't usually a problem when his dad made plushies.

As he wracked his brains trying to come up with a solution, his magic began flaring once again and provided another magical outburst. Before his eyes, his mother's organs began melting into a thick, ugly paste. Matter of fact, just about all of the mare melted away, and her body suddenly thinned until all that was left was the skin. Taking a moment to realize what had just happened, Stitches continued his work, grabbing a large box that was filled with stuffing. He then began cramming the fluffy substance into the hole he had made, filling up as much of the body as he could before stitching it back up.

He then repeated this exact same treatment to his father, working well into the night. As he worked, a song suddenly sprang to mind. A song that his parents sang to him on nights that he felt scared, nights that he felt he needed them. Well, now, he needed them more than ever. Thus, as he continued, the words subconsciously began flowing into the air.

"Quiet little filly, there's no need for you to fret
Dry your tears, there's no need to be upset
Though you might want to scream, and you might want to cry
All you need to do is look through different eyes"

When he was done, his mother and father were two life-size, rather crudely constructed dolls. There was something that was off, though. They were too...big. Summoning his magic once again, their bodies began glowing...and then they started shrinking. Shrinking until they were just the right size, just small enough for him to carry.

His work finally done, Stitches picked up the two dolls, and gave them each a massive hug, tears now refreshed and streaming down his face once again, but this time they were tears of joy. He smiled at the two dolls, and they smiled back with the faces that he had given them.

"I love you, mommy. I love you, daddy."

And with that, he fell to the ground, exhausted by his work, still holding onto his parents. As he began drifting off into sleep, his flank start glowing. When the light subsided, there was a mark left on his flank. His cutie mark, depicting a white pony plush.


The Toymaker was standing at his desk, now having resumed his previous work of repairing the doll. It was now dead at night, and at this point, the repairponies that he had called in to fix the door had already done their work. There was a sense of anxiousness in the back of his mind, though. Even though it had mostly worked to his benefit, Rarity's little act of vandalism had brought unwanted attention to his store. It was only a matter of time before ponies started getting suspicious...

He put down the toy and opened up one of the drawers in his desk, pulling out to reveal two, fairly decrepit dolls. One of them had cream-colored skin and a red mane, while the other had pale blue skin and white hair. He used his magic to bring them out, and gave the dolls an embrace, tears once again starting to form in the stallion's orange eyes.

"It's all going to be over soon, Mommy..." he whispered, the childish dialogue sounding very out of place considering the stallion who was speaking it. "It's all going to be over soon..."

A small knocking sound perished these thoughts from his mind, though. Putting down the toy, he began walking over to the back door, behind which was his workroom. Stepping into the cold, rather foreboding area, he trotted towards a particular portion of the wall, tucked into the very corner of the room. The Toymaker's horn began glowing, and a slab of the wall slid back to reveal a rather small secret entrance, which opened out towards the surrounding back alley.

To anyone else, the sight that was right behind that wall would've been horrifying. It was a doll in the likeness of Sweetie Belle, which was standing upright of its own accord. One of the buttons that had been placed over its eyes had fallen out, revealing a particularly gruesome opening that looked more like flesh and blood than simple fabric, in addition to sporting a jagged, toothy grin. A few of its teeth were missing, and some kind of pink fluid dripped from its partially open mouth. It was dragging three bodies with it, all of them brutally lacerated and missing eyes. Even amongst the predominant color of red, the colors of the bodies were still identifiable: bright orange, pale yellow, and white.

The Toymaker gave a smile and quickly ushered the doll in through the tiny crevice, as if he was speaking with a normal pony. "Good work, Sweetie. Now, come in. It's about time your friends join us."