Lump

The Wax Collection

The Wax Collection

THE CANDLES DRIPPED wax into hot vats. Steve struggled against his bindings, stiff ropes that dug into his wrists and ankles. Dainty footsteps followed by heavy thudding entered the stone chamber.

The seductress leaned over him, her face soft and gentle. She motioned to a lumpy man with deep scars. He lifted a vat over his head and poured it over Steve’s body. Steve cried out in burning anguish.

“You’ll make a nice addition to my collection,” she breathed. She motioned to a wall of men, standing, wrists bound, mouths gagged, all waxy and still. She looked at the thug who lifted another vat over his head. He smiled with three crooked teeth and poured the wax on Steve’s face.