#waxmen

File 32, of the ████ report, ███, Indiana

William Borough had left Indianapolis several hours ago driving north in his 2004 Honda Accord. He was scouring the countryside, driving slowly past Amish buggies, comparing every lone building in the fields to the one on his photocopy. He found the church eventually. Square brick painted white with a faded green roof and one small tower for a bell. If Mr. Borough brushed aside the ivy choking the sign it would read. St. January’s Prayer.

He pulled his way up to the dilapidated structure, grabbed his briefcase from the seat next to him, straightened his tie, and stepped out from his car. The path that snaked its way from the gravel drive to the door was overgrown with dandelions. The door itself was missing completely and as William stepped into the church he was hit by the stench of rotting wood.

“Hello, I’m looking for a drink!” Mr. Borough had practiced the script on his way up. No need to blow his chance by screwing up the edicate. He stepped deeper into the church past pews that reek of damp. In the darkness the shrouded the altar candles began to light. One after another. 9 then 10. 11 candles in all. The eleventh one flickered and sparked then opened its eye. A snake like slit iris of flame looked William over. Before. 

“Saint January had a secret.” A deep belly song that filled Borough with lead. It rang through his head for a moment before he remembered the proper response.

“I h-hear it’s served with ice.” William stuttered but the 11th candle rose high floating 7 feet high and walking closer, a whiskey barrel laugh echoing as the creature showed himself.

The candle was perched upon the head of a tall, thin man. The man had braided hair swept back behind his head and large glossy eyes like a fish. He wore a high collar and long cloak of many layers and materials. When he spoke his teeth were small but razor sharp and too many.

“I call myself Candel Wck, Welcome to my respite. Do you have a trade for my shelter?” the candles behind Candel moved slowly shifting their way towards Mr. Borough who was quick to reply.

“Music! I heard you like music, songs you’ve never heard before. I’ve brought a record I doubt you've had the chance to listen to before.” Candel leaned down to look William in the eye with his Burning one.

“Your well informed sir, Come follow me downstairs. My associates will bring your car around back. It's less likely to bring cops around that way, wondering who's hanging out at the old church.” the other candles entered the light and revealed themselves and stout round men molded from wax. Their featureless faces lit from above by the flickering flames that sat on their head. On paused next to William and outstretched his hand. Borough reluctantly handed over his car keys to the wax man, who then shuffled off to catch up to his brethren.

“And for the record my home is open to anyone who needs it, no payment required but I do love new music so if you wouldn’t mind putting it on for me I would greatly appreciate it!” As Candel Wck walked ahead of William the eye in his fire turned around to look at him. The downstairs was in much better shape, spotless in fact, with dark stained wooden walls and floors covered in plush rugs. William was led past a large room with a writing desk and a queen sized bed with a pale green duvet. This was to be his room as long as he required it. He was told the Candel himself only at one meal a day so that was when the dining table would be set, but that William was welcome to help himself to the pantry in between meals. 

They reached a sitting room with plush green chairs sitting across from a cabinet that held just about every music player known to man. Willam pulled the lime green vinyl record from its sleeve in his briefcase and placed it into a small turntable.

“It’s the soundtrack from my favorite movie.” Willam went to have a seat as track 1 began. Stay Home: performed by Self. Candel swayed to the beat, nodding.

In the final episode of our Vincent Price series, Andrew and Matt enjoy some paddleball theatrics. (more…)