The Wedding Tape

The package arrived three days before the wedding.

No return address.

No postage she recognized.

Just a plain brown envelope with her maiden name, Emma Holloway, typed neatly across the front.

She almost threw it away.

Inside was a single DVD in a clear plastic sleeve. Written in black marker were only three words.

WATCH ALONE.

Emma laughed to herself.

"Very funny, Sarah."

Her maid of honor loved elaborate pranks. It was probably another embarrassing slideshow for the rehearsal dinner.

She waited until Ryan left for his bachelor dinner before sliding the DVD into the old player tucked beneath the television.

The screen filled with static.

Then...

A forest.

The recording looked decades old despite being digital. Trees stretched impossibly high, swallowing the moonlight. The camera shook as whoever held it walked between rows of torches.

A low humming echoed through the speakers.

Not singing.

More like dozens of people trying to imitate insects.

Emma frowned.

"What is this?"

The camera entered a clearing.

Her stomach tightened.

Nearly thirty people stood in a perfect circle around a stone altar. Every one of them wore crude animal masks carved from wood: stags, wolves, crows, goats.

Their robes were black.

Their feet were bare.

A woman lay on the altar covered in flowers.

Not dead.

She was breathing.

The chanting grew louder.

One by one the masked figures stepped forward, each placing something onto the woman's chest.

A rabbit.

A bowl of blood.

A wedding ring.

Locks of hair.

The final figure approached wearing an enormous stag mask with antlers that nearly touched the trees.

He spoke.

"My beloved..."

Emma froze.

The voice.

No.

It couldn't be.

"...Tonight she dies so tomorrow another may live."

Ryan.

It was Ryan's voice.

Not similar.

Not close.

Exactly Ryan.

She laughed nervously.

"Someone edited it."

Artificial intelligence.

Voice cloning.

People could fake anything now.

The figure continued.

"I offer the bride."

Emma's smile disappeared.

The woman on the altar began screaming.

The people restrained her while the stag-masked man lifted an obsidian knife.

The camera never looked away.

Emma did.

She covered her eyes.

But she could still hear it.

The screaming.

The chanting.

The wet sound that followed.

When she finally forced herself to look again, the woman was gone.

Not carried away.

Gone.

Only a dark stain remained on the stone.

The figures raised their hands toward the sky.

Then, together....

They all turned and stared directly into the camera.

The video ended.

Emma sat motionless.

Her heart hammered against her ribs.

"No."

She laughed again, but it sounded wrong.

Ryan was at a steakhouse downtown with his friends.

People had seen him.

This was fake.

Had to be.

Her phone buzzed.

Ryan ❤️

"Miss you already."

She immediately called him.

He answered after two rings.

"Hey, beautiful."

She listened carefully.

Same voice.

Warm.

Gentle.

Nothing like the one she'd just heard.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"I... someone mailed me something."

"What kind of something?"

"A DVD."

Silence.

Only for a second.

But she heard it.

"...Throw it away."

The warmth in his voice had vanished.

"I watched it."

Another silence.

Longer this time.

When he finally spoke, he whispered,

"You weren't supposed to."

The call disconnected.

Emma stared at the phone.

He never called back.

She barely slept.

By morning she'd convinced herself there had to be an explanation.

Actors.

Editing.

Some deranged ex.

By noon Ryan arrived with flowers.

He smiled exactly as he always did.

Soft brown eyes.

Messy blond hair.

That ridiculous dimple she loved.

"You okay?"

She searched his face.

"Have... have you ever been in the woods outside Black Creek?"

His smile faltered.

"Why?"

"It was on the tape."

"I told you to throw it away."

"You recognized it."

"No."

"You did."

Ryan set the flowers down.

His expression changed.

Not angry.

Resigned.

"My grandfather made me promise."

Emma stepped backward.

"What promise?"

"To never tell anyone."

She laughed weakly.

"Tell anyone what?"

He looked toward the window as though checking whether someone stood outside.

"You think families pass down recipes."

His voice trembled.

"Ours passed down survival."

Emma said nothing.

Ryan rubbed his hands together.

"Every generation... one wedding."

"No."

"Emma..."

"No."

"Listen to me."

She shook her head violently.

"The tape is fake."

"I wish it were."

He reached into his jacket.

Not for a weapon.

For an old photograph.

It showed a wedding from 1953.

Bride.

Groom.

Guests.

Everyone smiling.

Behind them, barely visible among the trees...

A dozen figures wearing animal masks.

Emma's breath caught.

"The photographer didn't notice them until the film was developed," Ryan said quietly.

"My grandmother did."

He handed her another photograph.

Wedding.

Different couple.

Same masks.

Another.

Same masks.

Always watching.

Always somewhere in the background.

"They've been there for every wedding."

Emma whispered, "Who are they?"

Ryan looked directly into her eyes.

"My family."

A knock echoed through the front door.

Three slow knocks.

Neither of them moved.

Another knock.

Then another.

Someone began humming.

The exact melody from the DVD.

Ryan's face drained of color.

"They're early."

Emma stumbled backward.

"You said tomorrow."

"I know."

The humming multiplied.

One voice became ten.

Ten became dozens.

Footsteps circled the house.

Bare feet against concrete.

A branch scraped across the window.

Emma turned.

Outside stood a woman wearing a carved rabbit mask.

She slowly lifted one finger.

Pointing.

Not at Emma.

At the white wedding dress hanging in the living room.

Another masked face appeared beside her.

Then another.

Then another.

Until every window held a different wooden animal staring inside.

Ryan closed his eyes.

"They've already chosen."

The front door creaked open.

No one had touched the handle.

A deep voice floated into the house.

"The bride..."

The humming stopped.

Perfect silence followed.

Then every masked figure spoke together.

"...is ready."