Hope (House of wax x reader)

ᴛᴇɴ

You had made your way back to the main room, and were sitting on the spiral staircase up to the second floor.  You weren't going to ascend though.  You already felt bad just being in there.  Carly on the other hand, she was waiting for Wade by the window where she saw... whatever it was she saw.

Then, she let out another jarring screech.  You jumped up from your seat and went running, only to see Wade on the other side of the window.

"Hey, calm down, there's no one out here," he told her.

"Okay, okay.  This place is freaking me out."

"Okay, we'll just go to the station then," Wade shrugged.

"But isn't Bo still busy," you argued.

The two 'adults' didn't listen, and Carly made a hasty retreat to the exit.  You followed, not wanting to start any trouble.  At least you tried to stop them this time.  There wasn't much more that you could do in this situation.

Back near the highway, about twenty miles from the old campsite, the rest of the group had stopped to take a bit of a breather.  And Nick and Dalton had begun to piss right next to each other, breaking the sacred urinal law for no real reason.  Nature is no excuse to piss less than three feet away from each other, and Blake... his mind got to running with this revelation.

"Yo, you guys gonna have sex," he shouted.

"Come on dude," Nick responded.

"What," Dalton asked, seemingly high.

"Well, me and Paige are.  So you two go pick them up," Blake informed them.  "Hey Paige!"

"Yeah," she replied.

"Nick and Dalton are gonna go get them!"

"Why?  We can go," she pointed.

"Oh baby, come on!  I'm tired of driving."

"Okay..."

Blake pulled the keys out of the pocket, and Nick instinctively reached out to grab them.

"Why don't you let my man drive," Blake suggested.

Blake tossed Dalton the keys, and went to go grab a tent and the rest of his and Paige's stuff from the trunk.  Dalton was making his way to the driver's seat, and Nick grabbed his shoulder, gripping it a little too hard.

"Give me the damn keys," Nick demanded.

"Okay," Dalton shrugged.

He handed the keys off fairly easily, and began making his way towards the shotgun seat.  Blake didn't realize or know about the little trade off, and soon enough, the boys were on the road once more.

At the gas station, you refused to go in.  You sat on the curb outside the door, and Carly was leaning against a counter in the back.  You questioned why it was there, since the register was at a counter in the front.  But, it seemed to serve her well.  Wade was looking through the rack of fan belts lined up on the wall.

"I still think you shouldn't be in there," you told them.

"The door was unlocked," Wade replied.  "He said he was gonna be here in half an hour.  He's been, like, forty five minutes.  I'm sure he won't mind.  You know, if your brother and his yes-man hadn't come along in the first place, we would have all fit in my car, and none of this would've happened."

"Not my fault," you shrugged.  "But I do feel bad for you.  Why does he have beef with you?  You always try to be nice to him."

"Nick's got beef with everybody," Carly deadpanned.  "Don't take it personally.  Nick and I always used to stick together, and then when we were in junior high, Nick got into a little trouble here and there, and our parents would always, like, compare us.  I was the good twin, and Nick was the evil twin, as he likes to say.  He kind of got this image."

"He plays it a up a bit," you added.  "It feels like a character he has to be."

"It's getting dark already," Carly pointed out.  "I hate the winter."

"He's got everything but a fifteen inch," Wade complained.  "Just have to use a sixteen inch.  Make it work somehow."

"Ya plan on stealin' that," Bo asked, walking in.

"Oh, hi sir," you greeted.

"No," Wade quickly answered.  "We didn't know how much longer you were gonna be, and, you know... we didn't want to interrupt again."

"We left some money on the counter," you quickly answered, standing up from your spot on the ground.

"Do you have any fifteen inches anywhere," Carly asked him.

"I do at the house," Bo answered.

"Look, I hope you're not getting the wrong idea that we're in here," Carly said, standing up.

"No, 's okay," Bo told her.

Bo leaned over the counter, and grabbed the money.  Wade set the fan belt down, and he escorted Carly out of the gas station.

"Does that cover it," Wade questioned.

"'S close enough," Bo replied.  "Why don't we head up to the house and get ya the one that ya need?  Ya know, it's only a couple o' blocks."

"Yeah, alright," Carly answered.

"You keep fan belts at your house," you asked skeptically.

"I get things delivered there when I'm not here," Bo told you.  "But if ya'll want ta hold onto the sixteen, that's fine by me."

"No no no no no no no, it's okay," Wade quickly stated.  "Hey, you mind if I use your restroom real fast?"

"Oh, up at the house.  That one's out o' order," Bo informed him.

"All right.  So, is it too late to sign Carly up for that beauty pageant?"

"Now, unfortunately, it is.  'Cause you would'a won, hands down."

"Thank you," Carly giggled.

"So, that House of Wax was pretty cool," Wade said.

"You went inside," Bo interrogated.

"Yeah, it was unlocked, so, you know," Wade practically stuttered.

"Yeah, people used to come to see it from miles away," Bo smiled.  "And Trudy was the main... I guess artist it the appropriate word."

"What about Vincent," you asked.  "I saw his name on a lot of the work."

"One of Trudy's boys," he answered.

"They still around," Carly asked.

"No, no.  It's a horrible story.  Trudy's husband, Doc Sinclair... he was a doctor in the big city until he got his license revoked for doin' surgeries on the side, ya know?  Stuff that, ya know, most doctors wouldn't dare do.  So, he moved him an' Trudy out here to Ambrose, made a fresh start with his medical practice and, ya know, Trudy really found her callin' with tha' whole wax sculpture thing.  It was her dream to do somethin' really incredible here.  Then she had a couple o' kids, picket fence..."

"What's so horrible about that," Wade asked.

"Trudy got a cyst in her brain," Bo deadpanned.  "She jus' started rotting away.  Couldn't work no more, an' she jus' went crazy.  Things got so bad that doc Sinclair finally had to strap her to the bed.  The whole town could hear her screaming from the house."

"Jesus," you muttered.

"Yeah.  Sinclair was so depressed that he couldn't save her he..."

Bo held up a finger gun to his forehead, and went 'Pwish.'  Then he knocked his head back and rolled his hand forward, mimicking a gunshot.  Carly quickly moved closer to you, as if to protect you.

"Blew his head right off," Bo stated calmly.

"That's terrible," Carly muttered.

"It was worse for the two boys.  Left all alone like that... both ended up in foster homes."

"Oh.  Who took them," you asked.  "A company, government, adopted by a neighbor?"

"Government I think," he answered.  "Why do ya ask?"

"No reason."