The Wax Museum

The first hall of the Wax Museum was full of the greatest villains of history. Vlad the Impaler, Blackbeard, Jack the Ripper, Attila the Hun. They didn't seem very impressive to Susie, who was a history buff, and knew Attila the Hun probably didn't have a mohawk and a pink moustache. Although nobody could be sure.

She noticed the room was almost empty. A few boys came in, glanced at the villains, shook their heads, and moved swiftly into the next room. It seemed odd to Susie. Boys liked villains, usually.

Bonnie was gazing at a wax model of Billy the Kid in rapt fascination. Susie took hold of her upper arm and pulled her gently along. "Come on," she whispered. "Something funny's going on here."

A sign was posted in the second hall. Famous Women of History - Presented Live and Unadorned! Susie frowned, looking around at the second set of models. Helen of Troy, Cleopatra, Boudicea, Joan of Arc in strangely skimpy tinfoil armour. The boys were looking at them with considerably more interest.

She could understand why. These models were much more believable than the last set. Almost lifelike. Real warmth radiated from their skin. She gazed into Helen of Troy's eyes, which were presumably glass, and thought she saw a flicker of movement. But that couldn't be true. There was a strange expression on the wax figure's face - ****, like she was pleading for help.

Susie took a step back. She glanced at the boys and said "Hey! What are you doing?"

"Nothing," said the lead boy, who had the decency to seem a little embarrassed. She recognised him. His name was Ben, and he was in her maths class. A quiet boy with tousled dark hair. Once she'd caught him secretly reading a comic book under the desk. "Just messing about."

"Leave her alone!"

Joan of Arc's armour came off in long strips as one of the other boys peeled it down, revealing that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. It might have been Susie's imagination, but she thought she heard a faint squeak. "You can't take the models' clothes off," she said, severely.

"Oh, alright." Ben shrugged. "There's more to see in the next room anyway."

"What do you mean, the next room?"

"I can't tell you. Girls aren't allowed."

"But..."

He'd run off before she could answer. Susie looked at the Joan of Arc model, and felt a faint heat spring to her cheeks. The model's small left breast was exposed, and for some reason, it was equipped with a highly realistic pink nipple. She almost felt she ought to cover it up, but she couldn't get the armour to stick back on. Besides, it was only a model.

"Next room?" said Bonnie, cheerfully.

"But we can't."

"Want to bet?"