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Eternal Time Wax Museum
墨書 Inktalez
Introduction On the corner of the midnight street, the newly opened Wax Museum, every Wax Figure is breathtakingly beautiful. But I always feel that behind those realistic eyes, there is a chilling secret... When I discovered the secret of the Rose Tattoo, it was too late. He approached with a grin: "Welcome to join my art collection." Chapter 1 It was a rainy late autumn night, and I was in the study room worrying about the beginning of the new book. As a thriller writer, I know the importance of the beginning. Only a catchy beginning can capture the reader's heart. But tonight, my thoughts are like the leaves wet by the rain outside the window, heavy and weak. Inspiration, like a cat lost in the rain, I don't know where to hide. The sound of rain outside the window knocked on the glass, again and again, as if mocking my lack of talent. I rubbed my temples irritably, letting the cigarette smoke linger, trying to find a spark of creation under the stimulation of nicotine. Suddenly, my cell phone vibrated, breaking the suffocating silence in the study. The screen showed the words "Wang Lin", my editor. I answered the phone, and Wang Lin's slightly anxious voice came from the receiver: "Lin Xi, I've read the outline of your new book, it's not bad. But the beginning needs to be more attractive. I suggest you go out more, maybe you can find inspiration." "Go out for a walk?" I smiled bitterly, looking at the rain-shrouded streets outside the window, "In this damn weather, it's strange to find inspiration when you go out." "Try it, maybe you will get something unexpected." Wang Lin encouraged. I sighed, hung up the phone, and looked out the window again. The streets in the rain were shrouded in hazy fog, and the halos of the street lamps were dyed into blurred spots by the water vapor, like ghostly eyes peeping at the world. Just then, I noticed the newly opened Wax Museum across the street. It was an old Victoria-style building, and the dark red brick walls looked even more gloomy under the rain. There are several lifelike Wax Figure in the window. Even through the rain, I can feel the weird reality of those Wax Figure. Their eyes seem to penetrate the glass and look directly at every passerby, as if silently telling something. A thought flashed through my mind: Maybe there will be some inspiration for me. I grabbed my coat, opened my umbrella, and walked into the rainy night. The rain hit the umbrella, making a crackling sound, like countless tiny drum beats hitting my eardrums. There was no one on the street, only the dim street lights flickered in the rain and fog, adding a touch of weirdness to this cold night. I walked to the door of Wax Museum, and an inexplicable chill rose from the soles of my feet. Pushing open the heavy wooden door of the studio, a cold wind mixed with dampness and sweetness blew in my face, making me shiver. The room was dimly lit, with only a few spotlights shining on the Wax Figure, making their faces flicker and add to the horror. There was a faint sweet smell in the air, like the scent of some rotten flowers, which made people feel uncomfortable. "Is anyone there?" I called softly, and my voice echoed in the empty room, but I received no response.
In the studio, more than twenty Wax Figures were displayed, some sitting, some standing, each in various poses. Every figure was meticulously crafted, their expressions so lifelike that they seemed almost real. Yet, the closer I got to them, the more I felt something was off. The skin texture of these Wax Figures was too realistic; I could even see fine pores and veins. Their eyes seemed to hold lingering emotions—joy, sorrow, or fear—that sent chills down my spine.
I approached a Wax Figure of a young woman. She wore a vintage red dress, her long hair cascading down her shoulders, and a faint smile graced her lips. However, her eyes conveyed deep sadness, as if they were telling an unknown tragic story. I couldn't help but reach out to touch her cheek but pulled back at the last moment.
Just then, I caught a whiff of something foul. It emanated from a gap behind the Wax Figure—a faint stench of decay mingled with the sickly sweet floral scent I had noticed earlier, making me feel nauseous. I held my breath and leaned in closer to sniff; my hair stood on end—this was definitely not a scent that belonged to a Wax Figure; it was… the smell of a corpse!
“What are you doing here?” A deep male voice suddenly boomed from behind me, startling me so much that I nearly jumped.
I spun around sharply to see a tall man standing there. He wore black gloves, and his face was obscured by shadows, making it impossible to read his expression. However, the cold aura he exuded filled me with an inexplicable fear.
“I’m sorry, I’m a writer and I’m interested in the Wax Museum, so…” I attempted to explain, but my voice trembled.
“We’re closed,” he interrupted brusquely. “Please leave.”
I nodded quickly, not daring to linger any longer as I hurried toward the door. But as I passed the last Wax Figure, I inadvertently caught sight of a scar on its wrist. The texture of that scar didn’t resemble wax; it looked more like… real human tissue.
Stepping out of the studio, my heart raced uncontrollably. My intuition told me that there were terrifying secrets hidden behind these Wax Figures. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the latest news. Sure enough, in the past six months, three young women had gone missing in this city. Their photos bore an astonishing resemblance to some of the Wax Figures in the studio.
I had never imagined that an ordinary night would lead me to encounter such horrifying events.
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