TRIGGER WARNING: Character death, manipulation, and creepy ending.
This was my final project for my creative writing class, and I was pleased with how it turned out, so please enjoy!
I heard a click and the hum of the suction coming from the machine, and I attempted to breath steadily through my nose to calm myself down. As I breathed out slowly, I took in a massive gulp of air as the hose was suddenly shoved down my throat. I gagged reflexively and my eyes shot open just in time to see the receptionist calmly flip a second switch on the machine and almost instantly my vision went blurry as a thick, acrid liquid flooded down my esophagus. Instinctively I attempted to breathe and only managed to change the course of the liquid as it flowed into my windpipes, then my lungs. The receptionist glanced up at me in my state of panic and clicked their tongue.
“Now dear, I thought I told you to close your eyes. You wouldn’t want to burn them, would you? That would be awfully painful.” They reached up to the steaming hot bucket positioned over me, and gave the chain dangling from it a swift yank. I shut my eyes just in time before the boiling hot wax covered my entire body, not that shutting my eyes helped protect myself from the unimaginable pain that followed. As I attempted to scream, the shooting, burning sensation in my chest and throat intensified and the liquid spluttered as I choked and gagged. The burning hot wax now sat on my skin, and when I attempted to open my eyes I found that they had been glued shut by the thick substance. My mind began to grow fuzzy and I felt myself drifting, unable to see, feel, smell, or taste anything other than the foul liquid. My ears strained to hear anything through the thick wax that now clogged them. I felt pressure on my left cheek and heard a soft voice speak to me.
“There there my dear, that wasn’t so hard was it?” they cooed, their voice lulling me into the sleep that my body was calling for, “Look how beautiful you are!”
“Welcome, everyone, to the grand opening of our new exhibit!” The receptionist spread their arms open wide, and their smooth voice rang through the crowd. “This new collection is based off of simple, everyday people, just like all of you! Now, without further ado.” They held up their scissors, and made a spectacle of cutting the red ribbon that marked the entrance to the new exhibit. The crowd applauded, and people began to pour in to appreciate the detailed wax figures. In particular, there was one pair of people with pudgy bellies and crooked teeth who stood out from the rest. While the rest of the crowd took their time looking around them at the beautiful figures that all wore similar expressions of terror, this couple shoved through the crowd while looking around wildly.
“There, honey! I found it!” The woman said to her partner as she ran ahead, coming to a halt in front of a statue wearing an expression of sorrow. The mother paused, cupping her hand over her mouth as she struggled not to cry. Her partner caught up and rested their hand comfortingly upon her shoulder. The mother reached up to stroke the beautiful waxy cheek that once belonged to her child, while the receptionist watched closely from among the crowd.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie.” The mother said as a tear escaped down her cheek. “But Jesse really wants braces.”
I don’t really think anyone has read this, but it still makes me feel good to have something I’m proud of out there in the open, and hopefully at least one person cares. Thank you for reading!
TRIGGER WARNING: Character death, manipulation, and creepy ending.
This was my final project for my creative writing class, and I was pleased with how it turned out, so please enjoy!
(This is a little longer than the other parts, but I couldn’t find a good place to stop it, so there will only be one other part after this)
“Perfect, dear, you’re doing great! Now, as soon as I flip this switch the molding material will fill your mouth. Don’t panic now, breathe through your nose and you’ll be just fine!”
Before I could say anything, they pulled me roughly to my feet and lead me to a large, intimidating iron door. The door had a complicated-looking mechanism that they pulled right open and I found myself in a room that very much resembled a dungeon. At that moment, my body was screaming at me to get the hell out of there as fast as I could, but all I could do was tremble.
“U-um…” I managed to squeak out, “I’m not so sure about this anymore…” Their face changed to one of sadness.
“Well, I’m sorry dear, the paperwork is already filled out. Besides, with your looks and stature I think it’s clear that this is what you’re meant to do.” They leaned in and kissed me on the cheek while squeezing my shoulders reassuringly, and I felt the knot in my stomach loosen a bit as I managed to give a small smile in return.
“That’s the spirit, handsome. Now, if you’ll just come right over here I’ll get you situated with the casting machine.
“T-the what? I thought I would just be standing there or something while an artist, like, made the statue?” I asked in confusion.
“Oh, don’t worry dear, we have our own unique way of doing things. This allows us to create the lifelike statues that we have become renowned for. If you’ll just follow me over here I can show you!” They led me over to a large sheet of metal leaning back at a slight angle, and I noticed immediately the hand and ankle shackled that were built in to the stand.
“Why are there handcuffs?” I asked, my brain numb.
“Well, we wouldn’t want you to fall out, now would we?” Their laugh was music, and I felt compelled to obey the sound. I hesitantly, and awkwardly, stood on the bottom platform and leaned back so that I was reclining back against the board. The receptionist fastened the buckles securely, perhaps a little too securely, I thought as I felt the thick leather digging into my wrists and ankles. I glanced up to see a large round bucket positioned over my head. The next thing I noticed was the steam rising out from it and my heart began to pound again. The receptionist seemed to sense my concern.
“Don’t worry handsome, we’ve done this thousands of times and we’ve never messed up once.” They reached out to stroke my cheek, and gave me one more kiss which made the butterflies in my stomach relax. “Now, this next part might feel a little strange or uncomfortable, but you’ll just have to bear with me!” They walked behind my stand and grabbed a large canister with a hose coming out of it.
“This is what we’re going to be using to take the mold of your mouth,” She held up the end of the hose, “open up your mouth nice and wide for me dear, we need to make sure to get those pearly whites as accurately as possible! It’s best to close your eyes if you’re nervous dear.” I swallowed all of my fears and shut my eyes tightly as they placed the tube into my mouth.
TRIGGER WARNING: Character death, manipulation, and creepy ending.
This was my final project for my creative writing class, and I was pleased with how it turned out, so please enjoy!
“Ok dear, all done! If you want to just come with me I can take you right over to the casting room.”
The waiting room was decorated with simple and clean furniture, all of which was a purple that matched the door. I was surprised to see that there were no other people sitting in here. The receptionist lead me to a plush purple loveseat, picking up a stack of papers sitting on the receptionist desk along the way. They handed the papers to me along with a pen, and I noticed their hands were shaking considerably. I looked up at their face hesitantly, and was met with a blinding reassuring smile.
“No need to rush, handsome. Just fill these out and then I’ll take you back to the casting room.” Their smile stayed bright and as I nodded in understanding, they stayed in the same spot. I hesitated as they continued to beam down at me, and their close presence began to make me sweat as I looked down at the form, which began with basic background questions.
1. What is your full name?
2. What is your date of birth?
3. Where is your current residence?
I marked my answers with trembling hands as the receptionist continued to stare down at me, their eyes boring into the back of my head.
4. How tall are you?
5. How much do you weigh?
6. Have you ever had plastic surgery?
My handwriting grew messier as my hands continued to shake, and my heart began to pound in my chest as I reached the last set of questions that dealt with the new ‘everyday citizen’ collection.
7. What is your household annual income?
8. Do you live with your family?
9. If yes, how many people and what are their relationships to you?
Relieved that I had reached the last question, I took a deep breath and skimmed over it quickly.
10. If you were to disappear, would anyone notice you were gone?
My pen hesitated on the last letter of my answer, my brain not fully processing what I had just read, but as soon as the receptionist saw that I had finished they snatched the pen and paper away. They skimmed over it, then grabbed my arm in a vice like grip when they had finished.
“Ok dear, all done! If you want to just come with me I can take you right over to the casting room.”
TRIGGER WARNING: Character death, manipulation, and creepy ending.
This was my final project for my creative writing class, and I was pleased with how it turned out, so please enjoy!
That weekend I found myself outside the door of the Museum of Living Statues. I looked down at the flyer that my parents had forced into my hands a couple of days ago. Once inside, I was promptly greeted by a pleasant worker.
“Hello, and welcome to the Museum of Living Statues! Ticket purchases are right down this hallway and to the right,” They held their left arm out straight as a gesture, “and the application room for aspiring models is around the corner and through the door.” They stuck out their other arm in the same manner, and I hesitated.
“Um, I’m here to apply as a… model, I guess.” I said sheepishly, and their smile widened.
“Perfect! If you just head through the door marked for modeling, then someone will be right with you to help begin your application. Have fun, beautiful!” They flashed their strikingly perfect teeth as they continued to hold both their arms straight out from their previous gestures.
“Yeah, thank you.” I nodded at them hesitantly and headed around the corner. The door was very large and purple, and the sign read ‘Modeling Briefing’. I tried the sturdy metal handle, but it was locked. I knocked loudly and hurt my hand on the surprisingly hard metal door. As soon as I stopped my knocking someone yanked the door open and I came face to face with the most beautiful person I had ever seen. I could feel my face growing hotter and a lump formed in my throat. Just as I began to seriously consider turning and running away, they smiled a heavenly smile and clasped my hands in theirs.
“Hello, dear! Are you here to apply to become a model?” Their voice was like velvet, and my knees began to shake.
“Uh, that’s what I came here for, but...” I swallowed to try and clear the lump that had doubled in size. “but, uh, I’m not sure if I can.” They furrowed their brow and let go of my hands, which then dropped heavily to my sides.
“There’s no reason to worry, dear. We are willing to work with models of all levels of experience!”
“No, I mean, uh, I don’t exactly look like the typical model.” I said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Their confused expression sharply changed into that of amusement.
“Oh, now that’s just silly. Your face is very handsome, not to mention your height! You’re perfectly suited for modelling work, and I won’t hear any more complaints!” They flashed a smile and took my hand once more, leading me into the large open room.
TRIGGER WARNING: Character death, manipulation, and creepy ending.
This was my final project for my creative writing class, and I was pleased with how it turned out, so please enjoy!
Being ugly has made my life pretty difficult. I was bullied in school, of course. The other kids loved to make fun of my crooked teeth and pudgy belly, and most of all, my height. They’d ask me why I was still fat, despite the fact that I was tall, and that my model height was wasted on someone as ugly as me. Probably the best part of being ugly is that people’s eyes pass right over you when walking down the sidewalk. People always notice me pretty quickly because of my height, but once their eyes travel to my face they become disinterested in a second. They may think that I don’t notice, but I do. I always do. My teeth were crooked because my family was too poor to get me braces, and my pudgy belly ran in the family. Once I, the eldest, entered high school my parents would always send me out to do various odd jobs to bring in some extra cash. Things like dog walking and babysitting, lawn mowing in the summer and snow shoveling in the winter. My parents were always eager to use me and my siblings as a means of extra funds.
One day when I came home from school my parents immediately bombarded me with another odd job, this one a lot more unusual than the things they usually had me do. A wax statue museum had opened up in town a little less than a year ago, and it had quickly become well-renowned for the beauty and detail of their works. My parents shoved a flyer in my hands that had information about becoming a model for the museum. I laughed.
“As if I of all people could be a model.” I scoffed.
“Look! It says right here that they’re looking for everyday people to be featured in their new ‘low class citizen’ collection!,” They persisted. “Besides that, they’re offering one grand and no experience is necessary!”
“So why don’t you do it?” I said dismissively.
“You seem like you’d be better suited for it.”
“Oh yes, I’m definitely model material” I said sarcastically.
“Well, at least you have the height!”