Living in Ambrose was both a nightmare and a dream come true. The town of wax figures was quiet with clear streets and no annoying neighbors. But you were at the mercy of it's murderous family. Namely Bo, who had taken quite a shine to you.

You were kept in the House of Wax in which they lived. Bo always seemed angry when he was in there. The echoes of his childhood pain filled the walls. Dusty photos, old news clippings about how 'great' his parents were and how 'bravely' they handled having conjoined twins. And that fucking high chair was still in the corner of the basement.

Bo had never taken his anger out on you directly. Just a lot of cursin' and screamin' and chucking things across the room. Today, however, Bo had a better outlet. Lester had brought in two more tourists to hunt. Both twins were out all night tormenting them, leaving you alone for the first time since your arrival. You tried not to think about how complicit you were in these two peoples' deaths.

Vincent slipped in through the cellar as always, but Bo came right in through the front door. He was calling your name in that sweet Southern drawl, searching for you in the large home. The door was wide open, you had a clear shot. If you ran fast enough you could probably get a head start and make it to the highway.

There was a creak on the stairs. Bo stood on the last step, watching you intently. He was a little bloody and still had a crowbar in hand from the gas station. He was tensed in preparation to run after you.