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sketchy-rosewitch · 11 months

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New OC :3

Tommy Philips: Read more about them below!

Taggies : @soupbabe @rottent33th

Gender: Non-Binary (She/They)

Age: 24

Personality: INTP-A : Curious, Naive, Nonchalant,

Sexuality: Bisexual

Face Claim: Sophie Thatcher

Appearance: Broad Shoulders, skinny.

Hair Color: naturally brown, bleaches her hair blonde

Height: 5’3

Abilities: Manipulative, Fit in small spaces, fast, doesn’t feel sick at the sight of blood.

Bio: Doesn’t remember anything before Ambrose. Just a church and people around her. Was found wandering on the side of the road by Lester and brought in. Vincent and Bo instantly formed an attachment to them. Often spends her days wandering Ambrose or sitting in the church with the wax figures. Reads, Paints, and has an enjoyment for interior design. Least favorite part of the day is cooking and is often planning meals and making stuff that doesn’t take long.

Relationships:

Bo Sinclair: One sided love, she doesn’t love Bo but cares for him. She hates when he compares her to his mother. She and him go to church together. They play the happy couple at the gas station and the sad couple grieving Bo’s mother at the church. Tommy picks up Bo’s messes and helps him murder people. Kisses his bruises and helps him feel better even if it’s just for a moment. Bo is constantly touching Tommy in some way. They often have sex and Tommy will stay awake long after Bo falls asleep.

Vincent Sinclair: Also one sided love, again, Tommy doesn’t Love Vincent they do care for him though. Unfortunately he also has the same issue with comparing Tommy to his mother. They are found in the basement listening to classical music and bouncing off art ideas. If Tommy and Bo aren’t playing house to murder people, Vincent and Tommy are. Vincent shows his obsession for Tommy through creating sculptures of them. It’s often lewd.

Lester Sinclair: Tommy is in love with Lester. They often sneak off with Lester and go on simple dates. They’d do anything for each other. Lester has never compared Tommy to Trudy and hates when his brothers do it. Lester will take over Tommy’s cooking often, knowing she doesn’t like doing it. Likes helping with floor plans and with help her move furniture around town. Bo and Vincent don’t know they’re together. Lester loves pointing out different plants and bugs and telling Tommy cool facts about them. They’re always holding hands or are close to each other. Lester will drive Tommy to different areas in a 20 mile radius so they can paint and Lester can talk to them.

Jonsey: They love each other. Jonsey is a daddy’s girl but still loves Tommy so much. She does often beg Tommy for food but Tommy always gives in. They’ll play together often and sometimes cuddle on the couch. Tommy usually is the one giving Jonsey bathes and feeding her.

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair x oc #lester sinclair #slasher oc #house of wax oc #oc

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myers-meadow · 2 years

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Lester and Cylas moodboard for @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better

I enjoyed dabbling in blue a lot! The butterflies touch Lester's chest to symbolise how he and his life have been touched by Cylas <3. I hope you like it!! (Cylas; please feel free to take it and use it for whatever:))

Credits:

butterflies: transparensies, moodboardpngs, orangedcaramel, riverportpng, adjpngs,

Lester pic: moon-of-desire

Lester's truck: morbidlyyy

Ambrose: via a discord server im sorry

Wax sculptures: pustoe-mestoe

paintings by Claude Monet

#moodboard #slasher #lester sinclair #slasher community #slasher oc #house of wax #ambrose #lester sinclair x oc #slasher fandom

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slashwhores · 1 year

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how tall are they all compared to there slasher conterparts?

(When they were kids Gen and Bo placed a bet, whoever was the tallest by 19 won $8 and a dirty magazine )

Genevive pouts, her brows furrow and her fingertips tap against the rim of her glossy red mug she struggles to recall the last time she actually measured herself, She's pretty certain of Bo's height. Must've seen it in his medical records a half a dozen times by now, needs to know in case Vincent isn't around when if Bo gets hurt and she's forced to administrator drugs with a dosage reliant on the patients weight and height.

" Well Bo is 6'0ft basically 6'1 I'm think I'm just shy of 5'10 myself" ( ?)

She raises the mug. Till it just about barely grazes her bottom lip... thats when she senses something---someone loom over her, and before she knows it there's a strong force pressed against the top of her head.

" And don't you ever forget' it, darling"

Bo. Genevive sighs. Partly in faux annoyance and partly in relief.

He lovingly ruffles her hair as he scoots past her, entering the kitchen. His voice is fainter, farther away so he shouts

"Was silly of ya to ever think you could win that bet"

"My mother was 6'0ft! And I was 3 inches taller then ya back then'"

"Well my pops was almost 6'4 and your dumbass forgot girls grow quicker than boys- not taller"

"Psh Whatever..." She sips, from the mug. carefully avoiding the small chips. Bo bought it when she first moved in what used to be deep shaded maroon now a light mahogany, worn down. Well loved.

"Still owe me $8"

Bo smirks leaving the same way he came, a bag of frozen peas now hugged, albeit loosely under his arm, the door slams on his way out. He misses the faint smile on his girls face and the way her face burrows into her shoulder in an attempt to hide her laugh the question bringing back a fond childhood memory, something she considers pretty special, pretty rare...

"What the hell is he doing with a bag of frozen peas?"

*******************************************************************

Mona drops her brush, hopping off of an old stool and begins to sweep the rubber marks and pencil shavings from her desk "I'm 5'4 :)) Vinnies only an inch or two taller than Bo so that makes him... 6'2?" She scoops the lot into her ink stained,paint ridden,wax burnt, palms then her gaze lifts to that of her muses "Right hun?"

Vincent nods

Mona spins around, eyes scanning the room. Where the hell did she put the trashcan? Or her watercolours?

"The height difference actually has more advantages then you'd think you know?" oh the trash is under her desk, and the watercolours are in the old plastic box their always in. Danm she really needed some fresh air "Hey Vin could you please get me the Old Hollands? Their ontop of the shelf." He moves quickly, using it as an opportunity to break away from starring endlessly at a blank page that was supposed to be his latest masterpiece. The corpses was new courtesy of Lester though apperanyly the victim was tough, they'd cut his forehead with a glass shard they'd picked up from the side of the road. she thanks him- she should take a walk once she's organised her space, Vincent could give her a tour of the woods since he's free- that would be nice.

The shelf containing the couples supplies reaches alllllllllll the way up to the battered ceiling, the watercolours resting atop of Vincents half filled sketchbooks, sketchbooks he hasn't touched since childhood, they could be in galleries.

If Mona had attempted to scale the shelves (which she most definitely would've) theirs no doubt she'd have been crushed- flat as a pancake, however Vincent doesn't even need to tip-toe, he simply reaches and hey-presto the good watercolours, ready to be used.

"My hero!" Coos Mona dramatically swooning into his arms before he even has the chance to set the pallette down, his eyes roll and he shakes her off, hard. Probably harder than intended since Mona trips on her own feet- falling face first into the cold, hard floor, Vincent clasps both hands over his mouth, both from shock and amusement as he attempts to trap his laughter before it can escapes but hes unsuccessful, paints clattering toward to floor. Mona lifts up her head and a brush hits her, curtesy of Vincent, who is visibly shaking with laughter.

<<IM SO SORRY>> his signing is shaky

No your not! She laughs

He offers her a hand and helps her up, he helps dust off her skirt and gently places a kiss to her forehead.

*******************************************************************

"Lester- stop squirming! You'll hurt your self more babes!"

"I'm fine sweetheart promise" he sniffs,

"LESTER DAMIEN SINCLAIR" Kirby grits his teeth, breaking the name like glass, letters stumbling sharp from his mouth. "You are BLEEDING. For all we know you might have a concussion!!!!"

"Your real pretty when your stressed you know" Lester's smile slides up his face, anyone would smile at the sight, well, if it weren't for the blood dripping into his eye.

Kirby breathes in sharply

"You will age me horribly"

"I haven't already?"

"BOY! I SWEAR-" Kirby swatts at Lester's arm

But all he does is laugh

"I thought yous' was supposed to be taking care of me? Now your hittin' me like some nasty bug? How's that make any sense?" Kirby laughs at that and so does lester, weakly might i add.

"Still feeling" Kirby gestures with his hands, trying to remember the word used by his partner when he first saw his truck in the road.

"LooOOooppyyy" Lester draws it out in a singsong sorta tone.

"Yup"

"Yup!" Lester fixes his smile so it bears all his teeth , it still slants, ever so slightly.

"Do you think you can answear some questions while we wait for Bo?"

"Sure thing Sugar"

"Okay" Kirby pauses for a moment, thinking.

"How'd the car break down?"

"The Blonde bitch used the wrong fuel" he snarls.

"Did the blonde bitch stab you?" It's almost funny how sincere Kirby sounds

"Mmmmhhh no it was the one with tattoos" Lester closes his eyes "the one with the short hair... the nice one" He adds

"Can you keep your eyes open for me? Les?"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry" He cracks his eyes open ever so slightly, everything looks so... blurry. Except for Kirbys hand, which clasps his, the sun shines in his eyes covering his face, Lester isn't scarred though, he might pass out from blood loss but its not something that hasn't happened before.

He told his brothers he was only a little beat up though, which was a barefaced lie unless you consider the penny deep cut above his head and several jabs and stabs to the stomach a 'little beat up'

"Why was he nice?"

"He talked to me in the car about knives and guns and music and... you" Lester's head lolls downward a little but he smiles up at Kirby which makes the brunettes heart melt.

"How tall am I?"

"6'0ft, freak" Kirby rolls his eyes

"Okay how tall are you?" The sound of a car driving up the road perks up both men.

"7'7"

They hear the crunch of Gravel, its louder now

"Clearly"

A car door shuts, the sounds a little more distant than expected

"Just kiddin'" Lester laughs loudly

A familiar whistle

"I'm 5'10"

The sound of something falling to the ground

"LESTER!" Bo skids down scraping his knees of the hard Rock beneath him

"Shiiittt, I thought Vincent was coming" Lester squeezes his eyes closed not wanting to deal with his eldest brothers pestering

"DOES IT FUCKING MATTER?" Bo scoops Lester up in his arms which causes the youngest of the brothers to go wide eyed and groan loudly.

"Careful! Bo! CAREFUL!" Kirby stands quickly adjusting Lester's position

"Is he gonna-? Aren't you a dotor or something? What can I-?- What do we do?"

"He's a vet" adds Lester, weakly

"So?" Bo curses

"Well I'm not a fuckin dog am I?"

"Yes the fuck you are" Lester chuckles a little at that, his eyes close, he groans when he shifts in his brother hold

"Do you have any medical supply's?"

"A first aid kit in the back of my truck and uh- whisky and a bag of thawing peas"

Kirby pauses at the mention of peas but continues nevertheless

"That'll do, the rest of your medical stuffs back in Ambrose right?"

"Yup"

"Than come on, get in the car"

*******************************************************************

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demon-lover-669 · 1 year

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Slashers: *puts Y/N in an escape room to test their skills*

Y/n: *happily kissing the security camera when they notice it*

Slasher: *smiling the talks over the speaker* baby you have to try and escape….

Y/n: but it’s so cozy in here

Slasher: *sighs and goes to get their partner*

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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wildgirllz · 1 year

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Slashers x bubbly!girlfriend:

#billy loomis x stu macher x reader #slasher x s/o #billy loomis x reader #slasher x you #slasher x reader #slashers x oc #stu macher x reader #micheal myers x reader #jason vorhees x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #bo sinclair x reader #baby firefly x reader #lester sinclair x reader #otis driftwood #Otis driftwood x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #billy lenz x you #billy lenz x reader #slashers x you

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avintmich · 5 months

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I can't stand it. I read a post about the Sinclair brothers with pregnant Oc. Yes, of course, it’s very cute and.... homely (?. I don’t know how to describe it) BUT FUCK. Just think, Ambrose is a city of doctors, especially without an obstetrician! brothers are their own doctors and surgeons (yes, in my opinion this is funny, ha.ha.) Perhaps at the time of contractions and other crap, Lester will take the wasps to the nearest hospital, but do you really think that they will accept you and give you the proper care/help? No, believe me, no. They will literally look at you

- Um... Strange people came to our department in a smelly car... And they have a pretty girl giving birth... Okay?..

Well, really! Moreover, all subsequent expenses for the child, and what if Oc has health problems? There won't be enough money from the victims. Moreover, in that post everything was described so nicely, but excuse me, I sat there vomiting from this post. No! I don't want to say that the post was poorly written! no no, no way. But I just decided to think about this situation and I felt... Unpleasant. And so, frankly, do what you want

I liked the concept of pregnant So with children who follow him like ducklings following their mother duck. Well that's nice. That's it, wait for a sketch with this idea

#vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x gender neutral reader #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax 2005 #oc #pregnant oc #personal opinion #no offense to the author

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bluecoolr · 1 year

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@goldrose-star I think they'll get along alright... in time 😅

#darrell todd #slasher oc #band au #oc x canon #house of wax #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #bluecoolr.art #my moots got my creative juices flowinnnn #edit: lester is a country guy through and through

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naughtyslashers · 10 months

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ꜱʟᴀꜱʜᴇʀꜱ ɪ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏʀ

❈ 𝖠𝗌𝖺 𝖤𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗒

❈ 𝖡𝗈 𝖲𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗋

❈ 𝖡𝗋𝖺𝗁𝗆𝗌 𝖧𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗋𝖾

❈ 𝖢𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗒 𝖢𝗎𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗆

❈ 𝖣𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗂𝖼 𝖢𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇

❈ 𝖤𝗋𝗂𝖼 𝖣𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇

❈ 𝖩𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾 𝖢𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌

❈ 𝖫𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖲𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗋

❈ 𝖱𝖹!𝖬𝗒𝖾𝗋𝗌

❈ 𝖳𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗌 𝖧𝖾𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗍

❈ 𝖵𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖲𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗋

#slashers I write for #slashers x oc #asa emory #bo sinclair #brahms heelshire #corey cunningham #dominic craven #eric draven #jesse cromeans #lester sinclair #rz!michael myers #thomas hewitt #vincent sinclair

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thedogslegart · 11 months

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return to form

#every now and again i hear a song and INSTNTLY go OMFG Q AN DLESERS HEHRHEREHIOREFNIWODNOSSDB #and die. i die. fr. and i never draw them like i used to so. here this shit. plus te song! lol #im gonna link the fucking playlist again i think #im really still honestly so obssed with them. nothing makes me feel romance is treu like q and lester what the fuck is that burning smell #me op #doodles #traditional #oc: jaquerabbit sadler #oc x cannon #lester sinclair #bo is there to lol but only briefly #TUCKER IN THE FIRSTBONE TOO OOPS #oc: tucker elson #Spotify #oc: birdie sinclair

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articdelilah · 1 year

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YALL KNOW WHAT I NEED IN MY LIFE??? SLASHER PARENT SCENARIOS/FICS

I NEED TO SEE BO’S AND VINCENT’S SONS GETTING INTO A MASSIVE FIGHT AND I JUST NEEEDDDD TO SEE DAD BO OR THOMAS WITH A REALLY UNSTABLE SON OR SOMETHING PLEASE AJHSKSBSKSBKS IM DYING OVER HERE

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿Help me✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Sexy pic of Bo

#house of wax #house of wax oc #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #slasher x reader #slashers #halloween #micheal myers #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt my beloved #brahms heelshire #jason voorhees #scream #billy loomis #stu matcher x reader #micheal myers x you #fanfic writers

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small-sinclair · 1 year

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Someone please ask me about “There’s an Angel in Ambrose”. I’m bursting to share—

#bo sinclair #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #house of wax fanfiction #house of wax (2005)#house of wax fanfic #house of wax au #bo sinclair x oc #vincent sinclair x oc #lester sinclair x oc #house of wax oc

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sketchy-rosewitch · 1 year

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I got tagged in an inspo for oc’s so I’m gonna introduce two new ones so I can talk about my inspo for them too 😭

Gender: Cis Man (he/him)

Age: 32

Personality: INTJ-T, Shy, Analytical, Hopeless Romantic,

Sexuality: Gay

Face Claim: Miles Teller

Appearance: Broad Shoulders, Tall, Average weight.

Eye Color: Hazel/Green

Hair Color: Black

Height: 6’0

Abilities: Fast Decision Maker

Bio: Doesn’t share much, he has an ex-wife and a kid. Works at a diner 10 minutes from his house and sees his kid for half of the week.

Little mutual taggies: @rottent33th @soupbabe

#house of wax oc #house of wax #lester sinclair x oc #marshall fredricks

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myers-meadow · 2 years

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The Ambrose Summer Vacation, ch. 2

Title: The Ambrose Summer Vacation. Part one can be found here. Part three is here.

Summary: On vacation in southern Louisiana, a friend is seduced by a handsome southern man to visit his museum in a small town called Ambrose. The vacation lasts longer than intended. During her stay, Katya tries her best to get a hold of the Sinclair brothers, to understand what is going on, and perhaps to claw her way to freedom. Their receptiveness to her soon causes a complicated predicament and her struggles grow as she gets in over her head.

Contents: Vincent x OC and Bo x OC. OC is female, named, but has otherwise little specified backstory. Slower burn than my usual stuff, and it is dark. It is a poly fic, but no threesomes and the brothers aren't involved with each other.

Warnings: Kidnapping, canon-typical violence.

Wordcount: 2033 words.

Finally the second chapter! Thank you for reading!

Ao3 link.

Divider by @/firefly-graphics.

I awoke tied to the bed, Jonesy next to me. No one in sight. Never expected rope to be this secure. The dog whined as I continued trying to undo the knots, eventually just started wriggling my hands. My vision blurred with each beat of my heart from how my head throbbed and the skin of my wrists burned. Where were Johanna, Nico and Maxim? Were they alright? Would they be kept in a similar room, waiting to be rescued, wondering the same for me? Praying had never been for me, but I damn near tried. I imagined the anger, heard Johanna’s screams again in my head - if they’d catch me escaping it would be bad. Worse than this. When my wrists turned raw, I stopped the struggle with a dejected sigh.

Instead I sat on the bed, waiting, petting Jonesy. She seemed loyal, but warmed up to me after a while, panting with her tongue out when I called her a good girl. Would I stand a chance? Two able-bodied men, who clearly had done this before. Done what? Murder? I did not want to know what was behind that glint in Bo’s eyes. How could he smile so charmingly when his intentions were this sinister?

It was Bo who came then. His heavy footfalls on the staircase alerted me before I saw him. Then he saw me, grinned and came closer.

“Vinny got you tied up good, huh?” he pulled the rope, pulling me toward him. “Do you like it, being his sweet little muse?”

His hand fell to my cheek, I flinched away, expecting something harsh. “What happened to Johanna?” I asked, voice braver than I felt.

“Perhaps you’ll see, don’t worry your pretty little head about that.” He clicked his tongue. I was too frightened to look at him, he chuckled softly. “Hey, I’m not even the scary one.”

Something made me doubt that. Clearly growing bored, he shrugged and pushed me back beside Jonesy, who let out a whine at the bed being jostled.

Bo sauntered over to the paper on the table, pushing the papers around and looking at one the drawings. “It looks like he wants to keep ya. Lucky one, you…”

My blood ran cold. Lucky? I tugged the ropes again, the only thing that achieved was jostling Jonesy, who I immediately soothed with soft words. Bo sent me a last smirk as he disappeared from the room, seemingly not noticing the hole I burned in the back of his head with my stare.

When Vincent came down, he woke me up from a light sleep with the bang of the basement door. My back cracked as I sat up. He was already close, the candlelight illuminated his good eye. Blue. That sign of humanity behind the mask after being literally chained to a bed startled me. Unsure of what to, I gestured to myself, halfway through the question: “Will you draw me aga-” before he grabbed the robe that bound my wrists and pulled me up to him so we were face to face. His eye took in seemingly every detail of my face, every pore, every eyebrow hair, each acne scar, as I did my best to stop myself from squirming away from him.

Then, with his gaze resting on mine, swift fingers untied the rope and as soon as they were done, they gripped the tender skin tightly. He shook his head slowly, and with wide eyes, I nodded. He released me with a last lingering touch, and led me to the stained table. I hopped on similarly to the day before.

“Could I perhaps have some water?” I asked, keeping my tone conversational, light, normal. Reminding myself that he’s just human and breathing deep. The groves in the wood under my fingers grounded me. After moving a few paint bottles, the man set a plastic water bottle on the table, and I pulled the cap off in a hurry and downed a good bit of the bottle. It tasted a little stale, room temperature, but that could just be me not being used to the taste of mineral water. Set it down, wiped my mouth and caught sight of the man averting his eyes. He flicked the pencil away, settled for another, before flicking that one away too. Reaching in his back pocket, he took out a pocket knife, opened it and used it to sharpen the pencil. The quickness of his movements made clear that this was his usual way of doing things. This was his space, more than anything and I looked around with fresh eyes. There were pipes leading from the ceiling to some sort of apparatus, a rack of various clothes in varying sizes by the bed, a few bowls of water for the dog scattered about, several desk spaces filled with stacks of papers, art books and sketchbooks. The basement was lit with candles and just one dim overhead light. No windows. Would I ever see daylight again? I kicked my legs to pull myself back to the present. I fiddled with my loose braids, tucking stray hairs behind my ear and attempted a smile. The pocket knife was swiftly put away and his attention turned to me. Silence reigned

“Would you like me to redo my hair so it looks neater?” I asked, leaning back and looked over at the man, who had started his sketch with rough lines. His movements halted and he stood up, plopping the sketchbook down next to me and reaching for the braid the hung over my left shoulder. The hair slipped through his fingers as he touched it, then held it with one hand as he slipped the elastic down. With impatient movements, he combed the hair loose, none too gently. Catching up on what he wanted, I did the same for the other side until my hair rested over my chest and back in the residual waves that the braids left.

Before he could retreat, I grabbed his pencil, and wrote down my name, [Katyusha]. “That’s my name. You can call me Katya, though, since it’s easier.”

He barely cast it a glance, instead positioned me differently, avoiding my eyes. His warm hands on my arm and then on my thighs, as he pushed my legs up into a tailor’s sit.

The drawing continued in silence, the basement was too hot to think clearly.

And so it happened. In a way my old life died in Ambrose, along with that of my friends. The days filled themselves with the Sinclair twins at the house. I was not trusted outside, or out of sight, for long. Most of the time was spent with Vincent, who drew, sculpted or cleaned while in the same room. Often he drew me, and there were long stretches of time during which he sat with the sketchbook in his lap, pencil in hand, but only stared at me.

To avoid the awkwardness of those sessions, I started cleaning. Simply righting things on the shelves, cooking, baking, sweeping the floors – anything to distract my mind. Picking up certain bits of sign language was easy, a thank-you, a greeting, a goodbye. What was more difficult to get used to, were the marks on my wrists. Being tied up every day, despite my protests, never gave the raw skin time to properly heal.

After taking on the house-cleaning something changed. Vincent would leave me to cook or clean by myself, while he was in the basement working on sculptures. I discovered fragments of their past, of their family, tucked deeply within drawers. Going outside was not necessarily permitted, but sometimes Bo took me to the gas station or had me clean statues in the church. He was talkative, especially compared to Vincent, and I liked how it felt almost normal. At night I would jolt awake with my wrists tied and curse myself for believing that. For believing my life could ever be normal again.

And the day after would be spent hiding from an angry Bo, who threw plates, slammed doors and pushed me into the fridge, leaving a bruise on my back from the handle and fingers on my underarms.

Bo was in a chatty mood again during breakfast one day, a Monday (although the day of the week didn’t matter much). I put the dishes in the sink to wash after I was done eating.

“Katya, put your shoes on, let’s go to the shop, yeah?” said Bo, a hand on my arm to stop me from reaching for the dish soap. It wasn’t a question.

The town was incredibly deserted. It wasn’t difficult to figure out that the town was void of actual human life, except the twins. And they mentioned another brother, Lester, several times, although that was just information I pieced together from conversations they had around me, not with me.

If only I hadn’t been asleep that first day… But my bitter thoughts were interrupted as we reached the shop. Bo opened up and motioned me inside. He was working on another car, baby blue, older model, American make. Knowing their deal, it was probably stolen from the dead. He laid down on a trolley, ready to push himself underneath the car. There were old, some very old, calendars on the walls, the kind you’d expect in a mechanic shop like this, with ladies is very little clothing perched on top of cars or by swimming pools. Yellowed postcards of spots around the US. Polaroids, a few, black and white, of a young woman smiling at the camera. Who could she have been?

“It’s nice havin’ a helpin’ hand ‘round here,” he chatted idly. “Hand me that wrench, will ya? No, the other one, bigger one, yes, good.”

I handed it to him. “Want me to put on some music?”

“No, no need. Y’know, it’s probably time Lester comes up to the house.”

I sat down next to his legs, back against the car, so he could hand me the wrench back if he needed. Pulled up my legs and pushed the floral skirt over my knees. The smell of motor oil was worse here. “Lester?”

“Our younger brother. You’ve been here a while, it’d be only right to meet the rest of the family.”

“Thirty-three days,” I said. “I’ve been here thirty-three days, from the first time I woke up in Vincent’s workshop.”

Bo pushed himself back out from under the car and sat up. “You kept count? Damn.” He stared at me for a while, thinking. Unpleasant, as a thinking Bo felt like treading on black ice. He sat up, facing me. He tapped the wrench against my knee. “Another thing; yesterday there were some tourists about. Expecting ‘em to come to Ambrose today. You’re gonna be good, ain’t ya, kitten?”

The threat of it was clear. So that is why he wanted me here, to test me. “Why did you take me here if I could just be out of sight with Vincent?”

He looked to the garage entrance, the red door was all the way up. “You’ll greatly put any female visitors at ease, I reckon. Could take one or two up to the house and Vincent will take it from there.”

My blood ran cold. “Separate them. Like you did to us.”

Bo shrugged, crooked smirk showing off his dimples, shifted his hand to lay on my arm, rubbing circles on the sensitive skin on the inside of the elbow. His eyes fell to the marks on my wrists. “I mean, if you don’t, that’s fine, but then ya gotta explain that to Vincent… And if you wanna be part of the family, it’d be great to have you help us out.”

Family. That word again. The ease with which he said it was almost sickening. The family business… Was that what Vincent wanted? More than a muse, more than a subject to draw, more than something warm to touch when he felt lonely at night.

Bo watched with apt eyes as every thought crossed my face, no doubt showing my apprehension. “All you have to do is go along with me, doll.”

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