marriage of steel and flesh

Silence. Only broken by the dripping of the pipes above. Darkness. Only wavered by the dim, flickering light that illuminates the concrete room with a soft lambent glow. Scentless. Only substituted with the rancid smell of human waste and the iron scent of blood.

Every time the light flickers the room is visible, only for a second. At first glance, it is all a mess. Disconnected pictures of a foreign place. Though with patience, the pictures come together to form a place. A basement, made apparent by the slim window at the top of the room with blades of grass visible halfway up the pane. Dank concrete walls that are anything but clean. Mildew creeps down from a leaking, cracked ceiling. Copper pipes run across the ceiling in uniform and maze-like patterns. A Decaying concrete support occupies the centre of the room with rusted rebar clearly showing on one side. And a staircase to the rest of the building lies on the other side of the room

In the corner of the room, suspended from the ceiling is a young woman. Naked, but untouched and uninjured. She is held up by her hands which are bound together tightly. Her hair is tied back neatly to look as elegant as it can. Her face has been touched up lightly with make-up to amplify her natural beauty. Her skin has been washed and treated with the utmost care to look as breathtaking as she can. Unable to move, she waits for the ceremony.

The dripping is interrupted by the opening of a lock on the other side of the room. A handle turns and the old hinges struggle as the door opens. Now a slow rhythm of footsteps take up the room. One after the other they get closer and closer, ever louder and more intense. They are coming down the concrete staircase and closer to the women. When they reach the bottom the footsteps stop and the woman can see the person through the flickering light.

It is a man. He is clad in a priest’s vestments. A cassock covers him from the neck down and a cape that goes just below his shoulders. He starts to walk towards the woman. Now standing under the flickering light she can see his face. He is wearing thin circular glasses and an ear to ear grin. His hair is well-groomed and slicked to one side. He starts walking closer still. Each footstep grows louder until it is overwhelming. The woman squirms and struggles, whimpering through her gag in a desperate attempt to escape. Her squirming becomes more violent the closer he gets until finally, he is standing in front of her. The footsteps ceased, and with a firm hand placed on her shoulder, so did the woman.

Fear freezes her in place. With eyes held open and panicked, shaking hopelessness grips her heart. The man looks at her with a devilish smile and says,

“My dear, it is almost time. The wedding is nearly upon us.” His tone is maniacal and his glare is never broken. He continues.

“I have waited with excitement for the day has finally come! The groom has been found!” There is a short pause and a quiet chuckle. “He has been sharpened up for the occasion”

The man releases his grip from the girl, giving her a slight nudge causing her to swing from her bindings. A few steps back are all he takes and now his eyes inspect her body from head to toe. Examining every detail. He spins on his heel dramatically and cries out in pain. Intrigue possesses the woman at her torturer's theatrics. His oversaturation brings about concern and doubt; a mixture of confusion and fear registers on her face while saliva begins to seep through her gag.

Sobbing emanates from the man. His defeated posture and authentic tears present more questions than answers. In less than a heartbeat, he spins on his heel to face the woman once again. But his head hangs low in shame and his eyes refuse to look at her.

“Forgive me my purest child, for it is unheard of for any man to see the bride in her wedding dress before the ceremony. I’m sorry” the woman still swings slowly. Her rusted chains grind in a wincing rhythm. Suddenly the man’s arms whip out and grab her by her sides, gripping into her skin. Her swinging stops instantly and the room is left with only dripping of the ceiling to fill the void of suspenseful silence. The man’s grip tightens, his fingernails digging into her soft skin. A yelp of pain breaks through her cloth gag and tears start falling from her eyes. This flurry of emotions and unbearable pain is all it takes for the woman to lose hope. Defeated, she sobs as the man’s grip is released and he begins walking out of the room.

“I’m ecstatic for tomorrow’s ceremony. I can tell you are as well” he says in a more regular tone of voice.”Just look at you! Tears of joy! Every woman dreams of her wedding day, and yours is coming to pass.” he leaves the room with a slam of the old wooden door. When the last of the sound is done reverberating around the room, the woman is again left in silence. The dripping water keeping her company.

A few hours later the door opens again, slowly. Quite, slow footsteps make their way down the stairs and into the room. The woman pays little attention to the sound and doesn’t bother to raise her head. The footsteps approach her now sounding heavier than before. When the figure gets to the woman she hears the sound of something wooden hitting the floor. Curiosity gets the better of her and she allows herself a short glance to make out what’s going on.

This time it isn’t the man but a boy. Short and wearing a blindfold, dressed in similar garments to the man from before. The object he flew to the floor was a stool and he held a bottle of water along with a small shiny wrapping in his hands. To the woman’s surprise, the boy does not remove his blindfold before ascending the wooden steps. He acts as if he can see perfectly, not at all like he is blindfolded. Her eyes remain locked on him, inspecting his features and actions. Pulling out the gag, he lifts up the woman’s chin and allows her to drink. Despite her hopeless state she does, taking small sips from the bottle.

“Blind” the word escapes her dried lips in a hoarse voice.

“Yes,” the boy confirms, as he begins to open the shiny wrapping. The woman’s head hangs lifeless, her neck too sore and without the energy to raise it on her own. Through the darkness, she makes out a few rectangular shapes in the now open shiny packet. The boy cracks a piece off and feeds it to her. She accepts, with the little will she has left.

The boy continues to feed and water her until he runs out of previsions. When he is finished, he descends the stool and places it at the same stop from which he got it. Before he leaves, the woman calls out with the last of her strength,

“Thank you.” her croak hangs in the air for a short while before he continues his walk back up the stairs and out of the room. Leaving the woman alone again.

Daylight breaks the twilight of the room with a soft glow. Despite the grass and mould that grows over the tiny window at the top of the room, a stream of the outside world makes its way into the cellar. As the hours pass the rectangle of light on the floor moves closer and closer to the woman. Passing over the miscellaneous stains and puddles of water. Over the stool sitting against the wall and the piles of human waste beneath the woman. She has watched the light travel from one end of the room to the other. The passage of time is reflected by its creeping approach. A timer. Ticking down her time left until the marriage ceremony.

The light has crept up her malnourished and pale body all the way to her face forcing her to drop her head. Her head now joins her body in defeat, hanging in shame and hopelessness. The time has come. With a crash, the old wooden door opens, slamming into the wall behind it with a loud thud. Again, footsteps echo throughout the room. With the room slightly illuminated, the man becomes more visible. The woman raises her head in observation. Nothing has changed in the man’s appearance, yet something is different. There is excitement in his smile. His expression is ecstatic and he is giddy in his demeanour. Now close enough for the woman's fading vision to perceive him full, she finds his hands behind his back. He resembles a child approaching his mother with something important to show her, concealed behind him. In that case, what does he have concealed?

His footsteps stop and he stands looking up at her naked body with an ear to ear smile.

“It is enough to bring any man to tears,” he says, “ a woman in her wedding dress on her wedding day!” an evil joy fills his eyes as he looks deep into hers. Horror is reflected from the woman’s eyes and back into his, which he notices instantly. Just when she thought she could accept her fate and that despair had taken over, her fear of death is rekindled at the sight of his eyes. Those eyes, empty of anything that makes them human.

“The groom is ready” he continues,” I think it is finally time that you two met” he reveals what he had hidden. A steel knife, its blade wide and thin with a handle of mahogany. It shines as if brand new, freshly sharpened and well kept.

A whole host of new fears race through the woman’s mind now. Terrifying new horrors ravage her sanity, stripping away all composer she has left. She begins to flail about madly in a worthless attempt to get away. Her hoarse screaming is muffled by the cloth gag which is now dripping with saliva. The rusted chains wince and grind louder and louder. She alone creates a symphony of terror which is music to the man’s ears. He revels in her fear and starts to laugh too. She is broken.

“It wasn’t easy finding a perfect match for you my purest child” he begins, despite the noise of her struggling. “But out of all the happily wed couples I have married in the past, you have by far been the most challenging.” she tries to struggle more, to scream louder, anything to block out what he is saying. But, out of energy, she can struggle no longer and has no choice but to listen to every word he says.

“The dark, glistening handle reflects your beautiful hair and the shine of his wide blade matches the same one I see in your eyes. Truly a perfect match!” he becomes more ecstatic with every word, unable to contain his excitement. “I mustn't keep you waiting any longer now you have seen your groom, the best part comes next. The wedding ceremony” at those words, tears fall from the woman’s eyes. Now she is truly defeated “Now, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” he asks. Frantically shaking her head, hoping that maybe this will all stop, he carries on. “And do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” he asks the blade. Now, pointing the tip towards her, the blade answers. The man slowly carves the words “I do” into the woman’s flesh. She screams in a wail of agony while tears of pain now flood from her eyes.

When the man is finished he takes a step back and looks upon the woman. She struggles, screams, and sobs all while the words engraved into her flesh pour out blood onto the floor. In a subtle tone, the man says, “ I knew you were perfect for each other” and continues on with his regular ecstatic voice. “Then I pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride” once the words leave his mouth he lunges forward and buries the blade into hers. He slams hard with enough force to shatter her teeth and pierce through to the back of her neck. Now she hangs lifeless, gargling blood in her throat which soon dies out. Again, the man stands back to admire his work.

“So beautiful. Now… on to the next” the man makes his way out of the cellar leaves the lifeless course behind. The room is left in silence with only the dripping of the water, which is now joined by the dripping of her blood.