When I woke up again, I saw the wax museum's door wide open.

I sat firmly in the chair.

I wanted to move my fingers, but unfortunately, I couldn't do it.

My arms were so stiff that I couldn't move them.

I wanted to lower my head, but unfortunately, my neck seemed to be fixed by something.

My brain was blank.

It seems like I'm really sick.

I remember a phenomenon that when people are in extreme pain, they will selectively lose their memory.

Did I forget something?

I saw a young couple walking towards me, leading a beautiful little girl.

They had happy smiles on their faces.

The girl happily ran in, spinning around, her flowered skirt drawing beautiful arcs in the air.

"Mom, is the wax museum fun?"

The young woman said, "Of course, it's fun. It's my first time visiting too, to show you the artist's masterpieces."

Two words popped into my mind—

"Run away!"

The dormant memory suddenly awakened!

I remembered!

This is the wax museum in the west suburbs, where they turn living people into specimens!

I wanted to tell them the truth.

But my mouth seemed to be sewn shut.

The young man came to my side to buy a ticket.

They surrounded me to admire.

They praised me.

"This ticket seller is so beautiful!"