Wedding March of Fright

A murder of crows gathered outside my window, loudly cawing. The still night air nipped at my pale skin, the emerald silk of my dress feeling soft against my skin. An icy breeze blew up the a-line skirt of my dress, the sweetheart neckline hugging my ample chest. Yellow moonlight bathed the sparkling snow, stars twinkling in the inky black sky. A pinch alerted me, a long needle sliding into my skin. Echoes of my slowing breath rang in my ears, my feet losing their sturdy footing. White floral walls spun around me, the dark hardwood floor feeling slippery underneath my worn black boots. Darkness swallowed me alive, eating my fear.

Chains rattled, the rusty handcuffs cutting my wrist. Alarm widened my copper eyes, fear washing out all of my skin color. White silk covered my body, a long veil laying around my perfectly long brown hair twisted into a bun. My lips parted to speak, but a strange paralysis would not allow me to speak. Words sat frozen on the tip of my tongue, begging to be let out. Tingling sparks danced up and down my legs, the numbness slowly melting away. White diamonds sparkled on knee high boots. Brightness blinded me, humming lights flickering on.

A tall lanky blond haired man shuffled in, his long hair a wild nest. Green eyes glittered excitedly into mine, chills running down my spine.

“I have been watching you this whole time.” He uttered dorkily, snorting loudly. “Do you remember me?” Confusion twisted my face, a scowl forming on his thin lips. His long unkempt fingernails cutting into his palm.

“No, I don’t. I am sorry.” I apologized weakly, seeking a way out of this mess. “Can you refresh me?” Anger boiled in his veins, his slender bony fingers tossing a chair in my direction. Flinching, my body jerked in pure reaction.

“I am Stanley Finchburg, your biggest fan!” He screeched, his face inches from mine. “Your stories are my only escape from this wretched world full of pathetic losers.” We weren’t the losers, he was. Grumbling under his breath, the doorbell rang. Relief washed over me, his worn brown boots smashing up the creaking stairs. Sighing, I noted that stone walls surrounded me, only a small boarded window could count as a means to escape. My heart stopped beating, his boots crashing down the stairs. Keys jiggled in his hands, the lock clicking open. The handcuff clanked to the table, his fingers gripping my small wrist. Pain shot through my arm, bruises forming on them.

“You are going to get married to me.” He announced, beaming ear to ear. “Like right now. The peace of justice is upstairs waiting for us.” Disgust dimmed my eyes, a frown forming on my lips. Darkness filled his eyes, ever growing blacker.

“I refuse.” I retorted coolly, spitting in his face. “This is not how marriage works.” His chest rose up and down rapidly, his breath heavy with frustration. His eyebrows cocked in pure annoyance, a cold muzzle pressing into my forehead. Cold sweat dripped down my forehead, my bangs sticking to my face.

“You will now.” He ordered with a sickening smile. “Then I can have my way with you.” Hot vomit threatened to fly up my throat, pure terror widening my eyes. A lump formed in my throat, my boots climbing each stair slowly. Each step a sharp cry exploded from the rotting wood, a short old man with wild white hair stood in the door. Warm awkward smiles passed between us, the atmosphere feeling almost too oppressive to bear. His brown tweed suit reminded me of my grandfather, my heart aching for his embrace.

“Are you guys ready?” He queried, Stanley thrusting the gun into my back. “You look nervous my dear. Are you sure this is what you want? I will make it quick.” Nodding nervously, my lips parted only to be greeted by furious glowering eyes. Clearing his throat, he pulled out a large white bible. A green paper floated to the ground, both of our names sitting on the required lines. He really did his homework, hell he even had my parents’ names.

“Does Stanley Finchburg take Maryanne Suzette to be his lovely bride?” He questioned while eyeing my reaction. Concern flashed across his face, a weak smile dancing across his thinning lips. Wrinkles creasing his forehead, crow’s feet meeting at the corner of his eyes.

“I do.” Stanley mumbled, holding my hand tighter. The nozzle only being pressed into my back even harder. A fake grin flickered onto my painted lips, warmth not really appearing.

“Does Maryanne take Stanley to be her husband?” Taking a deep breath, my hand trembled. Nothing came out of my lips, words freezing on the tip of my tongue. Hot whiskey breath grunted in my ears, jerking me awake.

“I do.” I whispered, my ears screaming at the words. The peace of justice tilted his head, worrying permanently placing itself in his small smile. I wanted so badly to just scream for help, but I did not want this old man to get harmed in the process.

“By the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He announced cheerfully, waving his hands around. “You may now kiss the bride.” His lips pressed against mine awkwardly, repulsing my mind. Nothing, I felt nothing. The old man cleared his throat, looking goofily in his briefcase.

“Everything alright?” Stanley questioned wearily, glaring back at me. “Are we good, or what? I want to consummate the marriage.” Breathing deeply, the old man’s shoulder shrugged. An apologetic grin curled on his lips.

“I forgot my pen in the car.” He cooed gently, showing us his briefcase. “I will be right back.” His brown dress shoes clicked out of the room, out the sturdy red door. A pregnant pause hung between us, my eyes taking in the pale pink room and elderly looking furniture. Stanley shifted uneasily, making me even more uncomfortable.

“Don’t even think about it.” He growled in my ears, poking me with his gun. “I will shoot you if I have to. “ Honestly, I didn’t doubt it. The door clicked open, the small man scuffling in, holding a pen. He seemed even colder this time, fighting the urge to help me.

“I found one.” He chirped cheerfully, clicking the pen. “Let’s sign the license now. However, I like to do it one person at a time to see the joy in their eyes.” Rolling his eyes, Stanley grumbled under his breath. Tucking his gun in his brown leather belt, his boots thudded forward. Soft scratches scraped the thick paper, real joy shimmering in his eyes. The short man cleared his throat, Stanley plopping down on the couch. Gulping, my gaudy boots shined brightly in the light. Each step felt like a death march, certainly not a marriage march. The heel clicking loudly in the cluttered room.

“I called the cops.” The old man whispered, handing me the pen shakily. “Run out the door with me.” Nodding, my trembling hand pretended to sign the paper. Taking a deep breath, my boots clacked against the old wooden floor. The old man threw the door open, cold air nipping at our faces. Our breath became clouds of smoke on the chilly winter night. Stanley hollered, shooting his gun in our direction. The old man called out in pain, collapsing to the ground next to me. Blood oozed out of a small hole in the back of his leg, panic widening his twinkling eyes.

“I will get you help.” I stammered, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “Let’s go find a neighbor’s house.” Only one house had lights on at the end of the street, the psychotic loser chasing us down. A black Toyota was running in the driveway, changing my plans instantly. A small grunt of pain escaped from his lips as I tossed him in the passenger’s seat.

“Stop!” Stanley shouted, aiming his gun in my direction. “If I can’t have you, no one else can. You are mine, and only mine.” A sneer curled on my painted lips, anger boiling in my veins.

A triumphant grin danced across the creep’s face, evil laughter flooding from his nasty mouth.

“I have had enough!” I yelled, hopping into the car. “See you later, loser.” Just as my foot was about to press the gas, his hands slammed down on the hood. Hateful glowering greeted my fury filled eyes, my gaze challenging him. His finger wrapped around the trigger, threatening to release the bullet. Blue and red lights flashed down the street, sirens screeching in the night. An officer launched himself out of a cruiser, turning into a blue flash. Stanley kicked and punched, a taser finally subduing him.

“You guys alright?” A dark haired officer inquired while opening my door. “How about him?” Exhaustion wore on my face, realizing that I was finally safe.

“He was shot in the leg.” I blurted out, leaning back into the seat. “I should have stopped him. I am so sorry.” Sympathy brightened her face, a small smile spreading across her pink lips. Paramedics dragged him out of the car into the ambulance, the red light zooming down the road.

The machines beeped, his chest rising up and down. Bright light aggravated my intense migraine. My only hope is that he was alright, tears welling up in my eyes. He jerked awake, smiling in my direction.

“Thank you my dear.” He rasped, wheezing slightly. “Without your rescue efforts I would be dead.” My face flushed bright red, my fingers tucking my hair behind my ears.

“No, you saved me.” I admitted sheepishly. “I would be married to a creep and chained up in a basement.” Shaking his head, soft laughter tumbled from his dry lips.

“How about we are even, and a coffee when I am done here?” He asked warmly. “It would just brighten my stay here.” Smiling to myself, I nodded yes. Red cardinals sat on the window sill looking in, chirping away. Winter always turns to spring, just as this will turn into something nice.