Puppet. (Creepypasta X FtM Reader)

~1~

Stumbling further and further into the cursed forest, praying that they won't find me here, I curl up inside a hollow tree trunk and wait for the sky to fill with the deep red of morning.
Lights flash nearby, animals hiding much like I am now, and the armed men jump out of the huge vehicles and surround the tree I'm hiding in.
Hot tears are streaming down my face now. The sobs I once muffled leave my body shaking, but I remain silent.
"Move into plain eyesight!" Shouts one of the men dressed in white. "Move where we can see you!"
There's no escaping this now.
Three of them get impatient and grab me by the arms and haul me into a van.
The van labelled SCP.

I snap awake.
Where am I now?
I seem to be in a bedroom. Oh! That's right, I killed a woman the other night, and crashed at her place for a bit.
The golden red of morning seeps through the cracks in the curtains, awakening me before anyone else.

Staring into the mirror across the hall, I see what they made me.
A mere kid, looking around 13 years old, with a red line defining the shape in the left hand side and a green glitch on the other.

(Drew a quick picture so y'all knew what you look like. He's in school uniform, he doesn't usually wear that.)

A green and yellow eye and a red and white one.
I have that dream every night. Maybe it's a type of PTSD that I developed over my lovely little 'stay' there. Yay...

Hopping up, I grab my trainers and slide them on. I sleep in my clothes, and sometimes I shove them in the washing machine, but i can't be bothered this morning. I spray on some of the husband's deodorant, and leave the police to find the couple in a few days. Fingerprints don't matter anymore, I move too much and they haven't got any of my DNA or fingerprints recorded anyway.

~An hour later~

I left that house an hour ago, and i wander the woods aimlessly.
The family I used to have were shit, I think to myself, they didn't realise I was a boy until it was too late.
To this day I still don't know why the SCP wanted me, but i know that they've ruined me.
I'm a glitchy mess, they never realised I was a transgender but they did something that prevented growth, so I won't die of old age, and thankfully that means I won't develop any form of breast either. That is all I'm thankful for with them, I swear. Apart from that, I'll never forgive them.

A bird sings it's song in the trees, snapping me out of my relentless thoughts.

The bird stops. A thumping noise briefly replaces it. Maybe it died? I need to know now, stupid curiosity...

I'm right! The bird is lying dead by the trunk of a tree, it's song silenced in the prime of its life. I don't feel bad for it, though. Taking people out in the prime of their lives is practically how I get a place to sleep every night.

Three guys are sat around on some cut tree trunks, chatting. One of them is holding a pistol, he must have killed the bird! I wonder why, maybe he's just irritable.

It's hard to distinguish their ages, but one to them seems downcast, one of them is talking to the other one about how "Boss should totally let us get more videogames! Me and BEN really wanna get more and bla bla bla bla...."
And the other is nodding his head and saying "Yeah... of course... mhmmm." At appropriate points in the conversation, but clearly not listening.

Upon closer inspection, the downcast one is wearing a hoodie and a ski mask, and Is prodding the floor with a stick with his he's resting in his hands. His mask has a frown on it, but he seems sad without the help of a mask.
The chattery one is wearing a mouth guard with a smile on it and yellow tinted goggles pulled up over fluffy brown hair that seems completely untamed, and has dark rings easy to spot circling his eyes.
The one praying to get the conversation over with is wearing a feminine white mask and a yellow jacket, and looks like he's about to fall asleep.

There's nothing better to do, so I climb a tree that is directly behind them and lie down in one of its branches, watching them and getting carried away with my thoughts.

I pat my pocket lightly, checking for my tiny box. My tiny box has a tiny latch on it, that when you open unfolds into a keyboard with a small screen on the top. Looks a lot like a keyboard with a game screen.
It's so important that I keep it with me. At ALL times.
Whatever anybody types into it, I'm forced to do. To completion. SO if someone writes- 'P.jpg commits suicide by hanging' on the keyboard, I have to complete the task. The guys at SCP picked up on calling me puppet, as the P.jpg stands for puppet.jpg.
However, If a pervert were to get hold of it... well... it wouldn't be very good for me.

"Hey masky. I think we're being watched."
Mutters the goggle boy under his breath to the white masked man.
'Masky' replies "let's look around."
The sad guy looks up now, and they relay what goggles said to him.
He nods lightly and they split up to search the near-vicinity for a threat.

Unfortunately, the one carrying a pistol finds me first. I don't bother to move away from the bullet, or run. I kind of want to die anyway. Not in an 'edgy teen' way, but it can't take the dysphoria anymore. And if they don't kill me, then I might make new friends. Win Win!

To my surprise, the bullet goes straight through me and I feel nothing. There is a bloodied wound on my quickly healing stomach, but its fine. Pretty cool, I think.

"Why aren't you screaming?"
They are the first words that the hooded one speaks.

"Doesn't hurt." I reply, bored.
"What's your name?" Asks the hooded One, lowering the gun and beginning to climb the tree.
"Uh... I... " I stutter, not knowing why he's asking. Does he mean real name? My name now? What my tiny box says?
"Well?" He hurries.
"Puppet," I fumble for words. "Puppet.jpg."