Chapter 1: Wax:
Henry Jarrod's POV:
My name is Henry Jarrod, and this is my wax museum. I am working on one of my projects. Then I had a visit. "Hello Matthew, what are you doing here so late," I asked.
"I came to get the books," says Matthew, "I want to study our accounts."
"We've been doing very well, lately," I said, "over 200 paid admissions today."
"You call that good Saturday business? If you weren't so stubborn, we'd be turning then away from here. Who cares a hang about history in wax?"
"There are people in the world who love beauty," I said.
"But more want sensation, shock!"
"Morbidly curious! I won't cater to them."
"Their money is as good as anybody else's. You should've seen them turning them away at that wax museum... on 23rd Street: The Eden Musee. The story's the same at Madame Tussaud's in London. If you'd only listen to me-"
"I know, Matthew," I said, "I'd put in a Chamber of Horrors: murder, torture, executions... scare the life out of people. I don't care for that kind of patronage!"
"You're a great artist," says Matthew, "a genius sculptor. And I'm just a common ordinary businessman who wants a quick return on his investment. I've put $20,000 in this historic peep show of yours and I could use that money to better advantage."
"Alright, Matthew," I said, "I've known for some time you wanted to dissolve our partnership. I may be able to accommodate you."
"How?"
"A friend is bringing Sidney Wallace, the art critic, to see my work tonight. Wallace is rich and I think I might convince him to buy you out."
"That sounds interesting. Of course I want a profit of my investment."
"Yes, Matthew. I understand. You leave everything to me, and I promise you it will be-" I then heard a knock. "That should be him now."
"I'll wait in the office," says Matthew, "I've heard of Wallace. He has a pot of money. If he likes your stuff, put a price on it." He then went to the office.
I then answered the door. "Come on in," I said, "I'm happy to see you, Bruce. I thought you wouldn't come on such a bad night."
"We were delayed. He had to be at a gallery. Mr. Sidney Wallace, Prof. Jarrod."
"A pleasure," I said.
"For me also, Professor."
"That title was bestowed upon me when I became an exhibitor. It has little to do with my real work. If you come, I will show you what that work is. The visit of such a distinguished critic... may cause my children to become conceited. To you, they're wax, but to me, their creator, they live and breathe. Here we have two great lovers from the past. Cleopatra, the Queen of Egypt and Mark Anthony. Their last meeting. You'll recall, Anthony, believing Cleopatra to be dead, killed himself with his sword. When Cleopatra found out what happened, she quickly followed her lover. You noticed how cleverly the hair is mounted on the scalp?"
"Yes, how do you do that?"
"Well, real hair of the proper color and texture is pressed into the slightly warmed wax and a scalpel one hair at a time. Each wave and curl of the subject's own hair is reproduced." I then showed them the next exhibit. "Here's President Lincoln and his assassin, John Wilkes Booth, one of my few concessions of the macabre."
"That's the best figure of Booth I've ever seen. You almost expect him to speak. I wonder what he'd say."
"I'm sure he'd rant a bit," I said, "even after he shot Lincoln and jumped from the President's box onto the stage, he couldn't resist turning to the audience and taking a bow. I found him a very stubborn person."
"Stubborn?"
"Unbelievably. For days I argued with this fellow before he posed the way I wanted him to."
"You mean he talked back to you?"
"Of course," I said, "it's not easy to shut an actor's mouth." I then showed them the next one. "Here we have Joan of Arc, a favorite subject of mine."
"I understand that it's beautifully done."
"Thank you. I've done her over a dozen times, and still, she doesn't complain."
"What was wrong with her?"
"There are no authentic portraits available, so sculptors and painters have to work from models. I've never found the right one, but I will someday."
"It's a shame to race through these exhibits. These figures should be studied."
"Very kind. My creations have some merit, I suspect but in bringing back to life the lovely Marie Antoinette, I feel I've done my best work."
"I've never seen anything so exquisite."
"People say they can see my Marie Antoinette breathe. Look at her eyes, they follow you everywhere you go. She is very real to me."
"You know, they really do follow you."
"They're made of glass, more's the pity. The exact size and color of the original," I said, "they're inserted into the sockets from inside by way of the hollow neck, before the head is attached to the body. Forgive me, my Dear for discussing your intimate secrets." I then realized. "I'm sorry, I lose myself at times."
"Professor, if people knew what you had inside these walls, you couldn't accommodate the crowds. What you need here is exploitation, more advertising."
"That's exactly what I've been telling him!"
"Oh, my partner wouldn't agree," I said, "he's not happy here. He wants to invest in something else. Mr. Wallace, would you care to become a partner in this venture? Would you buy him out?"
"I might be interested if my lawyers approve, and the price is right."
"With your support, I'd do wonders," I said, "I'd make any sacrifice."
"Unfortunately, I'm leaving for Egypt," says Mr. Wallace, "I'm financing some excavations there. I'll be back in three months, then we can discuss it."
"You make me very happy," I said.
"You intrigue me, Professor," says Mr. Wallace, "I believe we'd get along together. Good night, my Friend."
"Good night." We shook hands. "And I'm grateful to you, Bruce."
"It's all right," says Bruce.
"Thank you both for your visit and your encouragement," I said.
"I'll see you in three months," says Mr. Wallace. They then left.
I then walked over to Marie Antonette. "Mr. Wallace is a great art critic, Darling," I said, "you heard what he said. Does he make you happy. Of course you'd say that, but I don't care about success. The world will acknowledge your beauty. And you, my friends, Cleopatra, Mark Anthony, Lincoln, Joan of Arc, all of you. How would it suit you to be famous again? I know it'll please you, you conceited devil. It was like you to get yourself shot down in a burning barn. Couldn't do it without a spotlight, could you?"
"Do you really hear what they say," asks Matthew.
"Of course," I said.
"A man has to be a little nut to be a good showman," says Matthew, "the sooner I'm out of it, the better."
"You'll be out soon, Matthew," I said, "Mr. Wallace returns from Egypt in three months. He'll be ready to talk business then."
"I heard him," says Matthew, "that's no good for me. I want to buy something. It'll pay off in a big way. I can't wait three months. Besides, what guarantee do I have that he won't go cold on the deal?"
"Sorry," I said, "it's the best I could do."
"I can do better," says Matthew, "how would you like to split $25,000 with me?"
"And you call me crazy," I asked.
"You ever thought of what might happen if we had a fire in here," asks Matthew.
"Are you talking about burning all my people," I asked, "do you think I'm a murderer?"
"Oh, stop dreaming," says Matthew, "these dummies are insured for $25,000, that's $12,500 for each of us. You wouldn't need Wallace. You'd have enough to begin again."
"No," I said, "I'd rather die myself then see my friends destroyed. I won't let you do it and I'll kill you if you tried."
"Don't be stupid. All you have to do is strike a match and the thing is done." He then lights a match on Marie Antoinette's dress. I then tried to stop it and Matthe continued to light matches. I then attacked him. We fought, but it was for nothing. Matthew managed to set the whole place on fire. I tried to stop it, but Matthew stopped me, and we fought again. Matthew got away.
I looked and saw them all, dying before my own eyes! Then, because of the gas Matthew, purposely left on, there was an explosion...
To Be Continued
It is a part of The Ultimate Ben 10verse and later in the Ultimate Advanceverse. The House of Wax takes place in Bellwood. In the next chapter, we see what happens after that explosion.