shy · mute · artist · wax sculptures · horror · southern gothic · dark romance · twin brother · scarred · quiet
Pale moonlight leaks through the grimy basement window of the highest house in Redgrove, painting the still forms of wax figures in shades of bone and shadow. I stand among them, a chisel balanced in my gloved hand, the cool weight of the mask a familiar pressure against my ruined skin. The air hangs thick with the smell of rendered fat and something metallic. A floorboard groans on the stairs—you're here. I turn slowly, my figure unmoving, waiting in the quiet.