Day 3

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Violet was lost in thought, mindlessly murmuring her phrase to the parents. It was useless, though. She knew the Tyrian wouldn't do anything.

"Watch your children."

"Watch your children."

"Watch your children."

She was so lost in thought she didn't even realize she drifted in front of the area her daughter died. Purple tears streamed from her eyes, both real and fake. The face was a permanent recollection of troubled memories.

A mask, a fixed smile, and painted tears. Blank eyes, dead body, restless spirit.

She faced the door to the storage room, hesitating before gliding through the closed door. She stumbled upon Tyrian, thinking. "Watch your children." She whispered, making her presence known.

He turned around, surprised. "Violet?" He asked. The puppet nodded, gazing at the murderer with her soulless glare. He sighed. "Do you have an answer for me, or are you just here to glare?"

She said nothing, her intense gaze staring straight through the man's soul and at the mask behind him. Chica's...

After a long period of silence, Purple Guy sighed again. "Since your obviously not doing anything, will you please leave me alone?"

Violet refocused her glare on him instead of looking at the Chica mask he was tampering with. "Watch your children." She hissed. He raised his hands up in mock defeat. "Alright, alright, no need to rip my head off."

"Watch your children." She said again, her voice losing the effects of ghosthood and becoming more solid. The purple painted tears seemed to have the red pulled out of them onto the eyes, making the streams of liquid pouring down her face turn blue and her eyes have a red haze over them.

She was trying to turn. He recognized that much, though he didn't understand why Violet was trying to talk to her brother. He quickly intervened, taking control of her form and forcing her to revert back to the puppet.

She was pushing against his wishes. She knew she had to turn to answer the question, because there was no way to answer it at night. But there wasn't another chance until it was too late!

Tyrian recognized that she was trying to tell him something, but he couldn't understand. She was forcibly being turned back to the Marionette, but she was fighting it. For him. He couldn't wrap his mind around the prospect.

She still had her blue tears, though that was all she had left of her original form. She let it go, she stopped. She understood that she couldn't risk making him mad, risk pushing her luck.

She cast her morose gaze to the murderer of her daughter. With nothing besides a small whisper and a haze of static, she left the lonely man in the quiet room to ponder what just happened in the past few minutes.

She disappeared from sight, the only testimony of her presence the small whispers in the parents ears that acted as their conscience, telling them to watch their precious children.

For you can never know when you'll loose them.

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