.ೃ࿐ This chapter contains no spoilers enjoy :)

The cold, unforgiving rain painted a somber backdrop to the otherwise silent streets of Krat. Your boots echoed with each step as they splashed through puddles, a rhythmic percussion accompanying the soft pitter-patter of the raindrops. The world around you seemed to blend into a desaturated palette, the colors subdued by the overcast sky.

Your animal mask shielded your identity, a signature feature of the Stalkers who roamed the streets of Krat. Its eerie design gave you an air of mystery and intimidation, an essential element in maintaining the fearsome reputation that came with being a Stalker. The relentless rain, however, seemed indifferent to the facade, drizzling down on the mask, the droplets trickling down its contours.

As you navigated the quiet streets, memories of Hotel Krat and the puppet with freckles and blue eyes lingered in your mind. The warmth of the hotel contrasted with the chilly rain outside, but the occasional trips into the city were a necessary respite from the monotony. Your boyfriend's presence provided solace, and his blue eyes and freckled face were beacons of familiarity in a world clouded by uncertainty.

The city's architecture, a mix of old and new, loomed around you, each building telling a silent tale of Krat's past. The rain-washed streets bore witness to your solitary journey, a lone figure weaving through the desolation. Despite the gloom, there was a certain beauty in the reflective surfaces of wet pavement and the ethereal glow of streetlights diffused by the falling rain.

The distant hum of rogue puppets and the occasional creak of decaying structures added an eerie symphony to the quietude. It was during these excursions that you felt the weight of your Stalker persona, the role you played in this enigmatic city. The rain, the mask, and the solitude created a surreal atmosphere that heightened your senses, making every step a deliberate, calculated movement.

As you continued down the rain-soaked street, the familiarity of Hotel Krat beckoned in the distance. The cold droplets clung to your mask, a transient reminder of the outside world that you would soon leave behind. The journey, though solitary, carried a certain poetic charm, a momentary escape into the mystique of Krat's rain-drenched streets, where the stories of puppets and stalkers converged in a dance of shadows and reflections.

The rain that once cooled the streets of Krat now seemed to pierce through your defenses, settling a chill deep within your bones. The telltale signs of a cold began to manifest-the scratchy throat, the mounting fatigue, and the unsettling warmth that spread across your body. The weather, initially a mere inconvenience, had taken its toll on your health.

As you trudged back towards Hotel Krat, the city's buildings cast long shadows in the diminishing light. The rain persisted, a constant companion in your journey, now more of a hindrance than a soothing backdrop. The droplets clung to your mask, mingling with the cold sweat that had started to bead on your forehead.

The cityscape around you became a blur, the once-familiar landmarks now obscured by the misty veil of the rain. Each step felt heavier than the last, your boots carrying the weight of both exhaustion and the encroaching illness. The rhythmic splashes of water underfoot echoed a weary cadence, mirroring the beat of your slowing pace.

The rain, which had previously felt cleansing, now seemed to exacerbate your discomfort. It drummed against your mask, a constant reminder of the elements you faced. Your throat, already irritated, yearned for a soothing sip of warm liquid, a comfort that Hotel Krat promised.

The looming silhouette of the hotel emerged through the rain-soaked atmosphere, a beacon of refuge in the gloomy city. Yet, reaching its comforting embrace felt like an uphill battle. Your body, fatigued and fevered, protested each step, a silent plea for respite.

As you approached the entrance, the warmth and shelter offered by Hotel Krat became increasingly palpable. The rainwater dripped from your mask as you crossed the threshold, leaving the cold exterior behind. The lobby, though dimly lit, welcomed you with a familiar ambiance.

With every step into the hotel's sanctuary, you felt a sense of relief, knowing that a cozy room and the care of your puppet boyfriend awaited. The dampness clung to your clothes, a tangible reminder of the relentless rain, but the promise of rest and recovery beckoned from within the familiar confines of Hotel Krat.

The warmth of Hotel Krat enveloped you as you entered your shared room, seeking solace from the damp and chilly weather outside. The faint scent of familiarity and comfort embraced you, a stark contrast to the cold rain that clung to your clothes. Determined to shed the wet layers, you swiftly removed your heavy coat, feeling the weight of the soaked fabric relinquish its hold on your shoulders.

The air inside the room felt dry and inviting, a stark departure from the dampness that had seeped through the seams of your coat. As you hung the coat on a hook near the door, droplets of rain formed small puddles on the floor, a testament to the battle you'd faced against the elements.

With a deliberate motion, you reached up to unclasp the straps securing your animal mask. The cold plastic had adhered to your skin, and as you peeled it away, a cool breeze grazed your face. The room's ambient light revealed the condensation that had gathered on the mask, evidence of the rain-soaked journey you'd undertaken.

As the mask came off, you inhaled deeply, savoring the clean air within the confines of the room. The sound of raindrops tapping against the windowpane served as a distant lullaby, a reminder of the weather you'd just escaped. The room, adorned with simple yet familiar furnishings, provided a welcome respite from the harsh conditions outside.

Now in your casual wear, you felt a sense of liberation from the heavy and clingy fabric of your wet clothes. The room's temperature, regulated and comforting, contrasted with the cool dampness you'd just left behind. The soft hum of the hotel's systems underscored the quiet ambiance, creating a cocoon of tranquility.

Your puppet boyfriend, attuned to your movements, had already sensed your return. The door creaked open, and he entered the room with a look of concern and care. His blue eyes, freckles sprinkled across his face, expressed a mixture of relief and affection. The familiarity of his presence added another layer of comfort to the room.

In this intimate space, with wet clothes discarded and the rain relegated to a distant memory, you found solace. The shared room, a haven within Hotel Krat, held the promise of warmth, companionship, and the simple joy of being dry and at ease.

The revelation of your illness struck a chord of worry in Pinocchio's mechanical heart. His freckled face, normally adorned with a carefree smile, now wore a concerned expression. The realization that you might be suffering from the dreaded Petrification Disease sent a wave of anxiety through him, as the fate of those afflicted by it was grim.

In his silent panic, Pinocchio's movements betrayed his fear as he took a small step back, his blue eyes searching your face for any signs of the disease's telltale symptoms. The air in the room seemed to thicken with the weight of concern as he grappled with the possibility of losing you to the same affliction that had taken so many others outside the protective walls of Hotel Krat.

However, you reassured him with a weak smile, attempting to ease the fear that gripped him. "It's just a cold, P," you explained, your voice slightly hoarse from the persistent cough. "Nothing serious."

Pinocchio's expression shifted from anxiety to relief, the lines on his face softening as he processed your words. While he couldn't speak, the relief in his eyes spoke volumes. The thought of losing you to the Petrification Disease was a terrifying prospect for him, a puppet who had grown fond of your presence and companionship.

Despite his inability to verbally express his emotions, Pinocchio's actions spoke louder than words. He moved closer, his mechanical hand reaching out to gently cup your face. The warmth of his touch offered a reassuring comfort, a silent pledge of support during your time of vulnerability.

In that moment, as you battled the discomfort of your illness, Pinocchio stood by your side, a steadfast presence that transcended the limitations of speech. The room, once filled with worry, now carried a sense of shared understanding and connection. Pinocchio, though unable to vocalize his concerns, conveyed his unwavering devotion through the simple act of being there for you, a puppet who had found something precious in the fragile warmth of a human.

Pinocchio's sudden embrace enveloped you, his mechanical arms wrapping around you tightly as if he could shield you from the looming threat of the Petrification Disease. The warmth of his embrace contrasted with the chill that had settled in your bones, and you found solace in the shelter of his freckled and familiar form.

As your face nestled against the soft fabric of Pinocchio's chest, you felt the steady vibrations of his internal mechanisms, a rhythmic pulsing that usually brought you comfort. Yet, this time, there was an underlying tremor, a subtle quiver that betrayed the puppet's emotional turmoil. It was as if Pinocchio, with his limited means of expression, was letting his fears surface in the only way he knew how - through the silent language of touch.

Confusion clouded your mind as you pulled back slightly to look up at Pinocchio's face. His usually cheerful blue eyes were clouded with unshed tears, and the freckles on his cheeks seemed more pronounced against the backdrop of his pale complexion. It was then that you realized he was silently weeping, the weight of his emotions too overwhelming to be contained within the confines of his puppet frame.

In that vulnerable moment, you saw beyond the mechanical exterior and witnessed a puppet grappling with the profound fear of losing someone dear. Pinocchio's unspoken sorrow echoed through the room, creating a poignant symphony of emotions that resonated with the gravity of the situation.

Gently, you reached up, your human hand brushing against Pinocchio's cheek in a gesture of reassurance. His tear-streaked face leaned into your touch, and you could almost feel the weight of his unspoken words. The room, once filled with the mechanical sounds of Hotel Krat, now held an atmosphere of shared vulnerability and connection.

As you lay together, entwined in a silent embrace, the boundaries between puppet and human blurred. Pinocchio, though made of gears and springs, demonstrated a depth of emotion that transcended the limitations of his mechanical existence. In that quiet moment, the two of you found solace in each other's company, grappling with the uncertainty of the future while drawing strength from the bond that defied the boundaries of flesh and steel.

Your concerned voice pierced the heavy atmosphere in the room as you sought answers from Pinocchio. His tear-streaked face turned towards you, blue eyes reflecting a tumultuous storm of emotions. The air seemed to crackle with tension as Pinocchio grappled with the weight of his unspoken fears and worries.

He hesitated for a moment, as if trying to find the right words or perhaps struggling to articulate the complex emotions coursing through his artificial veins. Finally, his voice, tinged with a mechanical hum, broke the silence.

"I'm scared... scared of losing you."

The vulnerability in his admission hung in the air, creating an invisible bridge between the two of you. Pinocchio's fear, unmasked and laid bare, resonated with the shared uncertainty that loomed over Hotel Krat and its inhabitants. The puppet's tears glistened on his cheeks, a poignant testament to the depth of his emotional turmoil.

Your heart ached at the sight of his distress, and you instinctively reached out to cup his cheek, your thumb gently brushing away a stray tear. The warmth of your touch seemed to ground Pinocchio, anchoring him in the reality of your presence.

"Why would you think you'll lose me?" you asked softly, your voice a soothing melody in the midst of the emotional tempest. Pinocchio's response was a mixture of hitches and pauses as he struggled to convey the intricacies of his feelings.

"You... humans... the disease. It takes everyone away," he finally managed, his voice carrying the weight of centuries-old dread. "I can't bear the thought of losing you, too."

In that moment, the room became a sanctuary for shared fears and unspoken confessions. The unyielding bond between you and Pinocchio faced the harsh reality of mortality, and yet, it was this very acknowledgment that deepened the connection between puppet and human.

As you held each other, the silent understanding between you bridged the gap between organic and artificial, offering solace in the face of uncertainty. Pinocchio's tears became a testament to the depth of his emotions, a poignant reminder that love and fear were not exclusive to one realm or the other. Together, you faced the unknown, finding strength in the shared vulnerability that bound you inextricably together.

The revelation of Pinocchio's voice hung in the air like a delicate melody, the hum of mechanics entwined with genuine emotion. The shock momentarily gripped you, as if the centuries-old puppet had just unveiled a hidden layer of himself. Yet, you quickly pushed aside the surprise, focusing instead on the puppet in your arms who trembled with the fear of losing you.

As you held Pinocchio close, his tears mingling with the warmth of your embrace, you gently reassured him. The authenticity of your words sought to dismantle the walls of anxiety that had built up within him.

"I don't have the Petrification Disease," you affirmed, your voice a comforting whisper. Pinocchio's blue eyes, still wet with unshed tears, searched yours for confirmation. The relief in his gaze was palpable, a flicker of hope breaking through the storm of worry.

But Pinocchio, conditioned by years of witnessing the relentless grip of the disease on humans, seemed poised to voice a 'but' or a 'what if.' Before he could utter a word, you intercepted, your tone filled with unwavering certainty.

"It's just a common cold, and I'll be okay by tomorrow. I'll even make a pinky promise."

Your hand extended, presenting your pinky in the solemn gesture that held immense significance between the two of you. Pinocchio, understanding the gravity of a pinky promise, responded by delicately wrapping his normal, non-legendary pinky around yours. The act, simple yet profound, symbolized a pact sealed with mutual trust and a shared understanding that transcended the boundaries of puppetry and humanity.

As the warmth of the promise enveloped you both, the fear that had momentarily clouded Pinocchio's features began to dissipate. His eyes, now reflecting gratitude and relief, bore into yours, silently expressing a depth of emotion that words struggled to convey. The room, once heavy with anxiety, transformed into a haven where the shared vulnerability of puppet and human forged a connection stronger than any ailment could challenge.

The ambient hum of Hotel Krat's mechanisms created a soothing backdrop as you and Pinocchio settled into the shared bed, seeking refuge under the warm covers. The soft glow of a nearby lamp cast a gentle illumination, painting the room in a cozy ambiance. Outside, the world transformed under the embrace of winter, as delicate snowflakes pirouetted from the heavens to alight upon the streets of Krat.

Lying side by side, the contrast between your warmth and Pinocchio's cool puppet body seemed to dissolve beneath the blankets. Your arms found their way around each other, the embrace a comforting anchor in the tranquil night. The snowfall outside, with its hushed descent, painted a serene tableau beyond the window.

As you nestled closer, the rhythmic rise and fall of Pinocchio's chest, a testament to the mechanisms that sustained him, harmonized with the gentle cadence of your breathing. The room itself seemed to cocoon the two of you in a sanctuary, muffling the outside world and creating an intimate haven where the complexities of puppetry and humanity intertwined.

Snow continued its ethereal descent, a dance of crystalline whispers against the windowpane. Each flake, a unique creation, contributed to the soft blanket of white that cloaked Krat in winter's embrace. The world beyond your cozy haven hushed to a muffled stillness, as if nature itself had paused to witness the tender scene playing out in the warmth of the room.

As you and Pinocchio succumbed to the gentle pull of slumber, the symphony of snowfall serenaded your dreams. The chill of winter's breath outside was met with the warmth of shared moments, creating a delicate balance that echoed the harmony you'd found in each other's company. And so, beneath the celestial ballet of snowflakes, the puppet and human drifted into a peaceful repose, wrapped in the embrace of love and the quiet magic of a winter's night.

.ೃ࿐ I feel like he would take pinky promises very seriously also fun fact this chapter and The Pit Of Dispair are the only chapters where Pinocchio speaks