Wax

It’s been five months since she disappeared. Every second that passes makes me even more dreadful, I long for her touch, her smile, her voice. Each day that passes, every couple I see, only makes me more desperate. I need her back. The police told me that usually missing people cases that take longer than a week usually end up as murder cases. Everyone tells me to move on, but I can’t. My life is over. I can’t live without her. I know that she will return. Even though the police told me yesterday that they found her corpse. I know she will return. - Are you opening a factory for candles? Why do you need this much of it? - the cashier asked, jokingly. How dare he take me out of my daydreaming? He doesn’t understand my agony. - No, I need it for a personal project. - I faked my smile. He doesn’t understand. I remember her proportions perfectly. Her face, hair, hip width, legs, arms, torso. I can’t live without her. That’s why I will bring her back. Even if her mortal body is dead, her soul is immortal. I will make her a new body. And she will return. The face came out perfectly. I can’t stop looking at it. She is perfect. Her hair is made out of natural hair. It is such a shame that they didn’t let me in the morgue so I can take her body. Don’t worry dear, I will make you a new one. I will give you my rib and mold you out of clay, my beautiful wife. You will return. Her body is ready. Every detail is as close to the original as possible. She looks amazing, just like the day she disappeared. She feels amazing, just like the day she disappeared. Now it’s time to show her her new body. I managed to sneak in the morgue and steal some hair and a tooth. I can happily say that her new body looks better than her old one. I read about the ritual I am conducting on some site in the dark web. It calls for a circle with a pentagram drawn with chalk, in each corner of the star a candle with droplet of blood must be lit, the items must be placed inside the pentagram, and her full name must be called six times, then called again in reverse six times and the chant “Come to me” should be repeated another six times. And, if the ritual is successful, the candles will go out, as they did. And now we wait. Her body stays motionless, but I have noticed things dropping out of a sudden. I hear footsteps at night, when I go to check them, they stop. They always come from the room I leave her body in. I think she is returning. She is gone. I can’t believe this. I must have placed her somewhere and can’t recall where. She can’t be gone. They buried her old body today, I can’t repeat the ritual again. Her family doesn’t let me near her grave, egoists. I loved her more than they ever did and will. They can’t stop me. The shovel hit her tasteless and cheap coffin. I would have bought her one out of dark oak. She loved dark oak...it’s empty. Eleanor, my love, where are you? They must have buried her somewhere else. They probably cremated her. Those egoistic cheap bastards, how could they? Only if they knew, she has a new body now. And she will return. I can’t sleep from this awful knocking coming from the wall right next to my head. Every time I go out and check there’s no one, but there are footsteps. They only lead to the forest and disappear the moment they go in the woods. I could have said they were just people looking to harass me, but it’s been a couple of weeks. The knocks always start at 2am. Why would a person be out here for so long? I started finding animal carcasses outside on my front porch. I know that this is a joke, but I am buying a gun. Next time when I hear the knocks I will shoot to let them know I have a gun and hopefully make them stop harassing me. Another night, another knocking. I was about to open the window and shoot in the air, but I saw her. I am sure it’s her. She was standing outside of the forest, just looking at me. When she realized I saw her, she slowly walked back in the forest. I wanted to run after her, but this awful sense of dread stopped me. It felt like if I went out of the cabin, I would be in mortal danger. The only thing that seemed strange was that she was naked in the middle of the night, during one of the coldest winters. Why didn’t she just come to me? Why did she ran away, again. Is she afraid of me? Is she not ready? But I know one thing, she will return. Every night she comes closer and closer to my window. She is the most beautiful woman in the world. But I can’t shake away the feeling of dread. My body is too afraid to go out, even if my spirit is screaming at it to stand up and go outside. For now, I can just adore her beauty from the window. She is right outside of my window, her smile, even more beautiful than before. Her eyes, glowing with happiness. I opened the window, and she went in. I couldn’t stop looking at her. Despite being naked in -20 degrees celsius, her body radiates heat. Her skin is smoother than I remember, her hair is softer than before. Even though she just smiles at me, I feel at peace. Eleanor, my beautiful angel, has returned. I guess she has forgotten how to speak, which explains why just stands quietly in the corner and smiles at me, so I decided to put on videos of her and me talking. She is a good learner. - John. - her velvety voice gently caressed my ear. - Wake up, John. - Good morning, gorgeous. - I looked at her eyes full of desire. - Can we go in the woods? - W-what. Why? - I was taken aback from this weird question. - I want to show you my favorite spot. - she smiled. - Actually, I was thinking of taking you to the town. Maybe take you to your parents. They are egoists, but they would love to see that their daughter is alive. Her face slowly turned blank, as if she didn’t know how to react. - My parents? What are they like? - Don’t you remember them? She seemed stressed out, like a kid about to get caught lying about their homework. - Of course, I remember them. - she showed me her beautiful teeth. - You seem nervous. What’s the problem, you don’t want to see them? - I do. But I don’t want to freak them out. - Well if you don’t knock on their walls at night and stare at them from the window, you’ll be fine. - I laughed, but she seemed angered. Her face drastically changed, she lost her beautiful, calm stature. Her eyes widened out, her pupils seemingly trying to read a script from my face. My chuckle stopped. - It was a joke. - Oh. Okay. - she smiled again, with her eyes still enlarged and staring at me. How do I explain to her parents that I brought her back? They will think I am crazy, but once they see her, they will thank me. The drive to her parents house was suspenseful. She kept staring at me, never once breaking eye contact with me. I guess she was just admiring me. The moment we pulled up into their driveway, Eleanor’s hair rose up. She seemed like she was about to have a panic attack. - Hey, calm down. We will just go see them, let them know you are fine and we will go to your favorite spot. The front door opened and an elderly couple went out on their front porch. - What are you doing here John? You know you can’t come here. - Before you make me go away again, I need to show you something. The old man crossed his arms, immediately disapproving of whatever my next action is. I went to the passenger door and opened it. The moment Eleanor stepped out, her mother placed her palms on her mouth and started crying and screaming. Not from happiness. She seemed terrified. Her husband dragged her inside the house, closed the front door and ran up to me, dragging me away from Eleanor. - What have you done? - he yelled in my ear as quietly as possible. - What do you mean? I brought Eleanor back. - I moved away from him. - She is dead, John. Eleanor is dead. Whoever the f**k this person is, it’s not Eleanor. Are you mad? Why are you playing games with us. - Hi dad. Eleanor’s dad practically jumped away from his daughter. - No. Don’t call me like that. I’m not your father. - What do you mean? I am your daughter, Eleanor. He looked at me with disgust. He then looked at her, his eyes holding back an ocean of tears. - Look, young lady, you are not my daughter. My daughter is buried. I saw her get buried. Now why don’t you two stop with your games and leave the premises of my home before I call the cops? - She is your daughter, Chuck. - How can you be sure? You didn’t saw her get lowered in the dirt. You know what, you are sick. Get the f**k out of here. - Yeah, because you didn’t let me come. You basically told me to stay away or you’ll shoot me. - Yes, because you broke in the morgue and stole parts of my daughter, you disgusting lunatic. Get out. Now! I turned my back and started walking toward my car. - She isn’t buried there. - I said under my nose. - What did you say? - Chuck yelled and pulled me by the shirt. - You are hurting him, dad! - Eleanor jumped in between us. - I don’t know who you buried that day, but I am here, dad. I am right here. Touch my hand. Look at my eyes. It’s me dad. He loosened his grip. Slowly raised his hand and gently touched her hand. He couldn’t believe it. He dragged his finger up her arm to her shoulder, then slowly touched her cheek. For a moment a person could say that he was looking at a father reuniting with his daughter, but the moment he looked at her eyes, he jumped back into reality. - No. She was startled by his reaction. - I don’t know what you have done, John, but this is not Eleanor. He quickly ran back to his porch and without even turning around went in the house and locked the door. The only thing moving was the curtains. - Take me home, John. - she turned toward me. I was startled by their reaction too. Who wouldn’t recognize their daughter? Unless, she is not their daughter. I took a quick look at her and started the engine.