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“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper called. “The museum’s full of customers. Where are you? Me and Mabel can’t lead this tour by ourselves!”
There was no answer. Dipper had looked in every room in the house.
Well, except the living room.
When he passed the room the wax figures used to be in, he shivered. He didn’t understand why Stan would want something so creepy.
When he entered the living room, Dipper was relieved to find Stan sitting in his recliner. “Oh, there you are. C’mon, Grunkle Stan, you gotta- what the-?”
He couldn’t move. It was like his feet had been fused to the floor. Dipper looked down and gasped with horror. His entire lower half was buried in hardened wax. “Let me go!” Dipper screamed as he tried to break it apart.
“I am afraid we cannot do that,” a familiar voice whispered in his ear. Dipper looked over. “W-wax Sherlock Holmes?! What are you doing here? Y-y-you melted! How is this possible?!”
”Nevermind that, boy,” Wax Sherlock said dismissively.
”Why are you here?!”
“I came here to finish the job! Do you think we would’ve given up after our failed assassination of your uncle?”
“W-what?” Dipper stuttered.
Another wax figure, Lizzie Borden, came into view with a wicked smile, and handed her axe to Wax Sherlock. “Thank you, my dear,” Wax Sherlock said to Wax Lizzie.
“NO!” Dipper shouted angrily. “I won’t let you hurt him!”
“Oh, we’re going to do much more than that,” Wax Sherlock taunted. His eyes rolled back and glowed, and he stalked closer to Stan. He loomed over the old man.
Stan looked behind him, and he had no time to scream before the axe swung downward and lopped off his head. Blood sprayed everywhere.
“GRUNKLE STAN!” Dipper screamed as he fought to get free. Beyond his hysterics, he thought he could hear laughing. Wax Sherlock simply chuckled and held up Stan’s decapitated head like a trophy, before tossing it at Dipper. It rolled before landing in front of Dipper.
At last, the wax broke apart. But Dipper’s legs had gone numb, so he collapsed to his knees. Shakily he picked up Stan’s head. “I’m so sorry, Grunkle Stan,” he whispered.
The head blinked. Not a surprising sight. Apparently severed heads will do that.
But one thing they didn’t do was speak in full sentences. “Y’know, kid, I’m not the only one they’re after. You might wanna go check up on those customers. Tell ‘em Mister Mystery can’t come in today.”
“B-b-but-” Dipper protested, before Stan’s head cut him off. “It’s too late for me, Dipper. Leave me.”
“Grunkle Stan, I can’t just-” Suddenly, a shrill scream interrupted him, followed by another. And another. And another. A bad feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. Dipper placed Stan’s head back onto the chair, trying to ignore his crumpled, headless body on the floor.
When Dipper stepped into the shack’s museum, he was greeted with a nightmare. Dozens of tourists lay dead on the floor, while others were still being hacked to pieces.
“MABEL!” Dipper screamed as panic flooded his mind. Where was Mabel? They hadn’t hurt her, had they?!
His sister was nowhere to be found.
Unless…
“The roof!” Dipper gasped. He made a break for the ladder leading to the roof, dodging the wax figures as they tried to attack him. Hastily, he climbed the ladder. When he reached the top, he fell backward onto the deck, trying to catch his breath. The sound of screams was still audible.
“Dipper! There you are!” Dipper looked up and found Wendy, Soos, and Mabel, all looking worried sick. “Where’s Mr. Pines?” Soos asked.
“H-he’s…he’s…”
“Dipper? Where’s Grunkle Stan?”
“He’s dead.” Dipper had to force the words out of his mouth. “Wax Sherlock Holmes…he cut Stan’s head off.” He still couldn’t rid his brain of the horrific memory.
Suddenly, their faces twisted into expressions of hatred. Mabel grabbed him by the shirt and screamed, “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAVE HIM?!”
“I-I couldn’t! They had me trapped in wax! I wanted to save him, but-”
“And here I was beginning to think you were actually worth something.” Stan. How did he get up here?
“Grunkle Stan! You’re okay!” Mabel cheered, running over to hug him. Dipper would’ve done the same if he hadn’t noticed the waxy texture and the glitter.
“Mabel, no! That’s not the real Stan!”
Mabel either didn’t hear him or ignored him as she threw her arms around Wax Stan. The second she did, she froze. Wax Stan pulled away from her. Yet she remained locked in the same position, her arms curled around empty air.
“M-Mabel?”
“Well! It appears we have a new member!” Wax Sherlock quipped as he shuffled onto the roof through the open window. He was followed by two other wax figures.
Naturally, Wendy and Soos made a break for it, but the wax figures grabbed them. They too froze, turning to wax.
“NO! CHANGE THEM BACK! CHANGE THEM BACK!”
His now-wax friends joined in on the cacophony of laughter. He had to get out of here!
Dipper bolted, but he didn’t get far at all before two cold hands grabbed him by the back of his shirt and yanked him back. Wax Stan pinned Dipper’s arms behind his back to the point of pain.
“Just one more,” Wax Stan rasped. “Wanna do the honors, pumpkin?”
Wax Mabel nodded with an excited grin.
Wax Stan’s grip was like steel, yet Dipper fought to get free.
“G-get away from me!” Wax Mabel only giggled in response. Wax Mabel began hugging him tightly. Dipper squirmed about, trying to free himself, but his efforts were in vain. Wax Mabel hugged him even tighter, crushing his ribs and leaving him gasping for air. But the worst had yet to come.
Dipper could feel himself changing. Gradually, his skin turned to wax, his eyes turned to wax, everything turned to wax. It was getting even harder to breathe.
“Shhh, brother, it’ll be over soon. I’m almost done,” Wax Mabel whispered in his ear. “Then you’ll be one of us.”
His wax friends said in sync, “One of us…one of us…one of us…”
By the end of it, Dipper stood frozen, a wax statue. He thought he heard more shouting, but it was hard to tell.
…
His humanity had been robbed from him.
Nobody could hear him as he screamed for help. He was trapped. Trapped as wax. He almost wished he’d met Stan’s fate. This…this is a fate far worse than death.
Dipper couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t say anything. Dipper was a prisoner inside his own mind. ‘Just let me die…’
Death didn’t come, but freedom did, as the dream world broke apart.
Dipper jolted awake. He felt cold and clammy, and he couldn’t stop trembling. He glanced at the clock. Midnight.
Maybe it was childish, but he really didn’t want to be alone right now. There was only one person who could help. Slowly, he got up, opened his bedroom door, and tiptoed across the hall to Mabel’s room.
Her door was cracked, so he pushed it open a bit and stepped inside.
She won’t mind, Dipper told himself. Just stay for a few minutes at the most.
Dipper accidentally stepped on one of Waddles’ toys, and it squeaked loudly. Of course, Waddles woke up. Then Mabel woke up. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Are we having a sleepover?”
“I-I was just gonna stay for a bit,” Dipper informed her. “You can go back to sleep.”
“Where do you plan on sleeping? The floor?” Mabel asked, before she scooted over and patted the space next to her. Dipper crossed the space between the doorway and Mabel and climbed atop the mattress.
“Was it Bill?” Mabel asked. Dipper shook his head.
“Not this time. Remember how those wax figures tried to kill Grunkle Stan?”
Mabel nodded.
“They…they were back, a-and they had me trapped in wax, so I couldn’t stop Wax Sherlock from chopping Stan’s head off! Then I found the wax figures killing everybody! I was able to escape through the roof, and when I told you and our friends what happened, you were furious with me for not saving Stan!”
Mabel rubbed his back and waited for him to continue. It was obvious that he wasn’t done yet.
“Then Wax Stan came up on the roof. You thought it was the real Stan, and before I could warn you, you hugged him, and you just froze. You turned into a wax statue! Then Wendy and Soos turned to wax! I tried to escape, but Wax Stan held me back, and I turned to wax!”
“That’s awful,” Mabel whispered. “I’m so sorry, Dipper.”
“I’m so sick of this, Mabel,” Dipper wept. “Haven’t I had enough nightmares?”
“Just one is enough,” Mabel murmured as she rubbed his back. “But it’s gonna be okay. We melted all those wax figures, remember? We fought them to the death.”
Dipper let out a short huff that may or may not have been a laugh. “Yeah, I remember.”
For a while, they said nothing. The silence was punctuated by Waddles’ snoring.
Dipper was the one to break the ice. “You know, I’m starting to feel about wax statues the way you feel about claymation.”
Mabel had to repress a shiver. That didn’t slip past Dipper. He gave a small smile. “Think we can call it even?” he whispered.
“Definitely,” Mabel whispered back. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah,” Dipper answered. He would’ve gotten up to leave, but there were two reasons why he decided not to.
- He was far too comfortable.
- If Mabel wanted him to leave, she wouldn’t have an arm wrapped loosely around his shoulders. It was so unlike her wax counterpart’s suffocating embrace.
“Night, Mabel.”
“Night, Dipper.”
Waddles got up and walked over to lay between Dipper and Mabel. Dipper scratched him on the head. “Night, Waddles.”
Waddles answered with a soft snort (definitely ‘good night’ in pig). Waddles fell back asleep, with the twins following soon after.
THE END