Chapter Seven: Corpses Getting Married
1046 Words
Ivy
It's been three days since I arrived at this house, and I hadn't seen my husband since the night he bought me.
Not that I wanted to see him.
The Widower, they called him. Twelve dead wives. Twelve graves.
I would be number thirteen.
That alone was enough to make a man as cold as the grave.
I sat by the window in the room they gave me and watched the gardens below. Perfect flowers. Perfect hedges. Everything was beautiful and controlled and dead inside.
Just like this house.
Just like my life.
Tomorrow was the wedding.
I laughed when I thought about it. A wedding. What a joke. There would be no guests, no celebration, no love. Just a transaction. A piece of paper. A man who wouldn't even look at me.
What kind of husband does that?
Not that I cared.
I had stopped caring about anything years ago.
Uncle Richard had made sure of that.
I pressed my forehead against the cold glass and closed my eyes.
Tomorrow I would become Ivy Vale.
Tomorrow I would belong to a killer.
Tomorrow I would start counting down the days until I died.
The wedding came.
It was exactly as terrible as I expected.
The library was cold and dark. The priest looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. The only witness was Marcus, Dorian's second-in-command, who watched me with something that might have been pity.
And Dorian.
He stood at the front of the room in his black suit, his gray eyes fixed somewhere above my head. He still didn't look at me. Not once.
I kept my eyes on the floor.
The priest said the words.
Dorian said his part in a flat, empty voice.
Then it was my turn.
"Ivy Rowan, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move.
This was really happening.
I was really marrying a stranger who would probably kill me.
"Yes," I whispered.
The sound was so quiet I wasn't sure anyone heard it.
But Dorian's head turned slightly. Just a fraction. Like my voice had caught his attention for the first time.
Then the priest pronounced us married, and Dorian walked out without looking back.
I stood there in my borrowed dress, alone in a room, watching my husband walk away. I wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, but I contained it.
Corpses getting married.
That's what it felt like.
Like two dead things signing a contract.
That night, Mrs. Chen came to escort me to my room.
She was kind.
She was the only woman who had spoken to me since I got here.
I started feeling bad for pouring the tea she gave me down the drain. It took her kindness for granted.
Not that I had wanted to pour the tea away, I just didn't feel like taking tea or anything in this house. Not yet.
"Come, dear," she said softly, taking my arm. "Let's get you settled."
She led me through the hallways, past the twelve portraits of dead women in white dresses.
I counted them again as we walked.
Twelve.
Soon there would be thirteen.
Mrs. Chen stopped outside a door at the end of the hallway. "This is your room now."
She opened the door and led me inside. It was very different from the last one.
It had the same structure and design, but it was more beautiful. A large bed with soft blankets. A fireplace. And a window facing the gardens.
"Sit down, dear." Mrs. Chen guided me to a chair by the fireplace. "I need to explain some things."
I sat and stared at her.
She knelt in front of me and took my hands. Her grip was warm and motherly.
"You need to be smart, child." She said quietly. "The last girl... she only lasted two weeks."
My heart stopped. Two weeks! That was fast. How long will it take for my picture to be hung on that wall too?
"What happened to her?" My voice shook.
Mrs. Chen's eyes flickered with something I couldn't name. "She didn't follow the rules."
"What rules?" My voice was tight with fear.
She squeezed my hands. "Don't go into Mr. Vale's room. Don't touch his things. Don't speak unless spoken to. Don't ask questions about the other wives."
I nodded slowly. "An… anything else?"
Mrs. Chen leaned closer. Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"And don't trust anyone in this house. Not me. Not the staff. Not even Mr. Vale."
I pulled back. My heart was racing now. "Why are you telling me this?"
She smiled.
"Because I told the others too. And they didn't listen." She stood up. "It's so sad. I hope you will."
She walked to the door and paused.
"One more thing, dear."
"Yes?"
"The tea I bring you every night. Drink it. It will help you sleep."
She left, shutting the door gently.
I let out a shaky breath. I sat by the fireplace and stared at the flames.
Twelve brides died. All within a year.
Was he cursed or was someone killing them?
Something scary was definitely happening in this house.
Mrs. Chen mentioned something about all of them dying because they didn't listen. They didn't obey instructions.
I didn't sleep that night.
I couldn't.
How can I sleep knowing my grave has been dug.
I sat by the window and watched the moon move across the sky.
At 2 AM, I heard something outside my door. Careful footsteps. Then it stopped.
Someone was standing there.
I held my breath and pressed myself against the wall.
“Please, don't let me die here,” I whispered to anyone listening. Tears streamed down my face.
Could my life get any worse?
Then I heard the sound of the door handle turning slowly.
My heart raced.
Who could it be?
Was it Dorian Vale?
What does he want?
And then it stopped.
Whoever was on the other side was deciding whether to come in.
I looked around the room for something to defend myself with.
There was nothing.
The door handle turned again.
And this time, it didn't stop.
- Writer
