Swinging a leg up, like a double-jointed gymnast, the Wax-Man strikes the guard across the side of his jaw with the heal of his prison slippered foot. Knocking the man off-balance, the Wax-Man throws his other leg against the backside of the man’s knees, which drops him to the floor. Pouncing on top of him, while never releasing his grip on the guard’s wrist, the Wax-Man lays his free hand onto the guard’s transparent face shield. His palm quickly melts its way through the mask’s material.
The burning-hot liquified remains drip onto the guard’s skin. But that pain is nothing compared to the pain from the Wax-Man’s fingertips pressing into the man’s face, dissolving into his flesh until they tap against the bone of his skull. The guard screams out, which unfortunately lets the rendered shield material slip into his mouth and sear into his tongue.
The agony is so extreme that the man barely registers the pain from the Wax-Man’s other fingers sinking through the thick armored glove to liquify the bones in his wrist. It all quickly becomes moot, when the Wax-Man’s other fingers pop out the inner side of the man’s skull, to tickle the lobes of his cranium. The guard’s entire body lurches up, while his disfigured mouth spews out portions of an earlier meal. A second later, he is now the motionless man inside the prison cell.
The Wax-Man pulls his fingers free of the former guard’s head, and wipes his blood-soaked hand across his own mouth. He flips up his stained face, giggling like a child while leering wild-eyed at the free guard. Then, as swift as a striking tiger, he lunges forward, throwing his hands out between the bars, reaching for the guard’s knees.
Luckily, the terrified guard jerks back, loses his balance, and falls onto the floor, just beyond the deathly reach. He looks up, only to see the Wax-Man now gripping the metal bars tight in each hand; liquid iron seeping out between the cracks in his fists.
But then, a loud ping surprises them both. A slim metal rod, maybe 2 inches long, punctures through the 12 inch thick concrete outer wall, and into the cell. As they watch, it stops mid-air and hovers horizontally in the center of the room. Then it goes vertical, and fires itself straight up to shatter the ceiling light fixture.
As the cell turns dark (with just the hallway fluorescents shining in), the Wax-Man crinkles up his nose, sniffing in the air like an animal.