who's the bride?
919 Words
Who’s the Bride?
I don’t know why the two monsters got furious the moment they saw me with their leader’s ‘skirt’ still in my hand.
One charged at me with a giant club, aiming straight for my head. But bam! He was repelled by an invisible wall that appeared out of nowhere. The impact sent him flying like a plastic bag caught in a storm.
“You don’t have to do that,” an old voice called out from behind us. “He’s protected by the Ancestors' Vow. You can’t harm him—he’s the future king of our realm.”
The entire forest fell silent, then every monster dropped to their knees.
“Welcome, Grand Protector!!” they all chanted, except for one particularly... opinionated snakehead.
“Huh!? Great uncle? Please. All you do is follow me around and babysit a grown monster like I’m still in monster kindergarten,” the female monster scoffed.
“Is that how you greet your uncle?” he barked.
“Do I greet my shadow too? You’ve been following me around all day like a stalker with daddy issues.”
“You ungrateful brat,” the old monster sighed. “Your father spoiled you rotten. I’ve got six wives waiting back at the clan, yet here I am, stuck on nanny duty.”
I looked at him—really looked. He wore trousers that left a strange, round object swinging upside-down between his legs. I don’t know how these creatures walk, let alone run, with their giant heads dangling down there. No wonder the Great Creator gave them powers instead of agility.
Now imagine these monsters playing football… or basketball. I’ll let your imagination handle the chaos.
Unlike Princess Diana (yes, apparently that’s her name), the old guy had his “royal crown” covered with a cloth. The rest of the monsters did too—thank whatever gods rule over monster modesty.
I should’ve been clueless through all this, but unfortunately, my brain still works. Selena was unconscious, lying there beside me. I couldn’t leave her behind—not with these soul-sucking forest freaks. And yet, I’d also somehow triggered this mess.
Still on the ground, I looked up. The pretty monster gazed at me—not with fury or hunger, but with… something worse. Love.
Excuse me?
Love?
Whose idea was this? Whoever wrote this part of my life must be a twisted, romance-hating maniac.
A monster’s in love with me? And judging by that thing dangling between her arms, she doesn’t exactly have the equipment I’d expect in a bride.
I covered my butt instinctively. The monsters gave me weird looks. Sorry for being cautious—I’ve seen enough!
Then it happened.
“All hail His Highness, the Prince Consort!” all the guards shouted, dropping to their knees.
Even the old man nodded in approval. “You must be a great warrior to lift the veil of my niece so easily. I respect your bravery.”
Oh no.
I know this trope.
This is the part where I’m forced to marry a monster and become the unwilling royal in some twisted love story.
Before they could ask about Selena, the old guy offered me a lifeline. “Who’s this human girl? Your sister, perhaps?”
“Yes! Y-yes, she’s my little sister!” I stammered, thanking every lucky star above.
They picked her up gently and slung her over a guard’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Princess Diana, on the other hand, floated toward me using her freaky dark sorcery. She lifted me into the air, then—without warning—kissed me. Deeply.
I felt my soul leave my body and file a lawsuit against fate.
Checklist:
Kidnapped by ritualists? Check.
Cuckolded? Check.
Loved by a monster? Check.
Kissed by a monster? Check.
Raped by a monster? Pending…
She caught me staring at the royal crown again.
“You like it?” she giggled. “Don’t worry. It’s yours now. You can play with it whenever you want… hahaha!”
Please. Someone hand me a rusty spoon so I can dig a hole and bury myself alive.
But I didn’t cry.
Okay, fine—I cried. But it was manly crying. Very macho sobs. My eyes just… started leaking, that’s all.
“Aw, you’re already shedding tears of joy?” she said, rubbing my back like I was her pet cat. “We’ll have so much fun tonight. I can’t wait to marry you, my handsome husband.”
Author! I quit! Tear this script apart and write me a better one! I’m not gay! I’m not a monster consort!
After ten minutes of walking (they could teleport, but the princess insisted we take the scenic route), we arrived at a massive tree that looked like a small mountain. That was the gate to the monster realm.
Two guards at the entrance eyed me like I was a naked alien with “Property of Royalty” tattooed on my chest.
“He has the royal mark!” one whispered.
“Impossible! Who would dare lift the princess’s veil?” the other whispered back.
What mark?! Who put something on my body? Am I cursed now?
The old man barked at them, then ordered them to announce that a royal wedding would take place tomorrow.
Tomorrow?!
No. Absolutely not.
It’s time to rewrite this twisted script. The wedding must never happen.
But even as I plotted my escape, one question echoed in my mind:
Who’s the bride?
- Writer
