Here's the prolog to start the story. I've seen all the Puppet Master movies that have been made so far, and LOVED them…Anyhow; I own nothing other then some of the characters in the story.

In the Bodega Bay Inn of California, two girls and an elderly man sit in a beautiful hotel room. The elderly man was working at his desk on a new wooden creation, and the two girls were cradling puppets in the middle of the room. A couple posters hung from the walls above the work desk that read, "Andre Toulon, Europe's Greatest Puppet Master." Puppets were all around, and waiting to be worked on. The old man was the great, Andre Toulon himself.

The one of the girls held a rather large puppet that looked like quite a brute; the other held one held a cowboy puppet with a toothy smile and six arms. Gently holding the puppets close to them, they watched Andre from a far as he worked. His newest creation was a puppet with a jester's costume, and had a face that spun in three directions individually. The girls stood in awe as he put the final touches on the jester, but then a car pulled up in front of the hotel.

An oriental puppet sitting in the windowsill turned his head to Andre, and slightly nodded. In response, Andre nodded back and put the jester in a black trunk. He subtly picked up the oriental puppet, and packed a couple things away. The two girls walked towards Andre, and gently handed him the puppets they had been handling. He kneeled down to face them eye-to-eye, and gave a fake little grin.

"I believe your parents are here," He said, "I'm glad I got to see you both again."

"When can we come back, uncle Andre?" They asked, giving him a light hug. When they couldn't see his pain-written face, he quickly pulled himself together to face them once more.

"I'll be moving somewhere else," He announced, "Far from here." He showed the girls to the door, where their parents stood expectantly. They waved him good-bye, and walked down the hall towards the elevator. As they made their way to down the corridor, the younger of the two girls stopped and looked behind her. The rest of her family did the same, to make sure that they didn't accidentally leave anyone behind.

"What's the matter, hun?" Asked the girls' mother. The young girl kept staring into the halls blankly. The sound of small footsteps she heard, already faded before anyone else could notice.

"Sorry momma," she replied, "I thought I just heard something." She quickly apologized before returning to the herd. Once the elevator reached the designated floor, the doors opened with two mysterious men in black hats and trench coats stepping out. The older one of the girls looked at the backs of the men's coats, giving them burning a glare.

"Dad," She whispered, tugging her father's hand to a halt. He signaled the mother to wait up before leaning over to hear what the girl had to say. "I think I saw guns in those men's pockets." She hastily whispered, gesturing towards them. The father looked at the men, squinting his eyes slightly through his glasses.

"I can't see anything," He whispered back, "It's probably nothing." He stood back up and led his other daughter to get caught up with the others, and waited for the elevator again. In the lobby, there were people bustling about there own business. Happily laughing and conversing with everyone, and having a great time. As the family's car drove off, Andre remained in his room.

He quickly closed the black trunk, and took off a panel on the wall next to his desk. He hastily struggled to hide the heavy trunk into the space in the wall, and placed the panel back to keep it out of sight. He heard the footsteps outside his room, and grabbed a colt revolver pistol. Taking a seat in a brown leather armchair, he quickly made sure that the gun was loaded. He cocked the gun, and pointed it into his mouth as when he heard the light knocks on his door.

A couple seconds ticked by, before the door slammed wide open. Andre pulled the trigger, and blood splattered all over the painting behind him. The two mysterious men in black came running in with their own pistols at the ready, but were too late. They mumbled to each other frustrated at their failure, and quickly left. Leaving the room to fall silent after the echoing gunfire.

Andre, Toulon was dead.