Harenchi Marriagekuen

‘Congratulations, Julia, today marks the first day of the rest of your life.’

I’m pretty sure that was supposed to be a blessing. So why did it feel like a curse? Every time I thought about my wedding, I felt a vice around my heart, tighter than the corset I was suffocated by. Was this love?

I let out a heavy sigh, noticeable only by the one other person in the cabin. Blaine. My childhood friend. My best friend. My Maid of Honour. I felt her soft fingers brush against my neck as she carefully clasped the pearl necklace around it. I’d tried to fasten it myself, but it turned out looking way too janky.

Seconds later, she gracefully re-entered my vision, coming face-to-face with me. Her perfectly swept black hair covered her left eye. Her long lashes were flicking just mere inches away from my face. The lingering scent of lavender clung to her almost as perfectly as the white suit she was wearing.

I did my best to avert my gaze from the curves of her chest. The escalating warmth in my cheeks was getting too hard to ignore. Yet no matter where I turned, it was as if she were there. In a lapse of judgment, I let my honest feelings slip. “I’m scared.”

There was a moment of silence, as if time itself froze in a hue of melancholy. All I could hear was her shallow breathing. From the corner of my eye, I noticed the slight quivering of her soft pink lips.

“You’re scared? Imagine what it’s like giving your best friend away?”

Her words stung a little.

“Then -”

She flicked my forehead.

“I’m just teasing. William is a lovely guy. I’m sure he’ll make you the happiest woman in the world.”

Nothing she said was wrong. William was a wonderful guy. Caring. Compassionate. Conventionally attractive. A dream man by all accounts. My mother certainly loved him, which was the important thing.

Despite her egregious act of violence against my forehead. I feel a faint smile tugging at my lips.

“Thanks.”

Speaking with her, I could feel the muscles in my shoulders begin to relax. She was the only one with whom I could truly be honest. I couldn’t even trust my soon-to-be husband to such an extent. If only she were the one –

Run! Run! Run!

I flinched. Outside, crows were cawing their insufferable song. From the corner of my eye, I could see a hand begin to recoil. I shifted my gaze to Blaine, her hazel eyes faintly shaking as if she were worried. “I’m sorry, I was just reaching for a hug. I didn’t mean to make you jump.”

Seeing her look so worried for my sake stirred a twinge in my heart. I extend my hand, reaching for hers, but come up short. Instead, I settled on offering a reassuring smile, perhaps for my own sake rather than hers. I followed this with a slight shake of my head. “No... sorry, I’m just so on edge. I was just surprised by the sound of the crows.”

She tilted her head, her hair flopping over her shoulder. A bemused look washes over her eyes as her brows rise. “What crows?” she asked.

How could she not hear them?

“Never mind, I guess I’m just nervous.”

“I’d be surprised if you weren’t. What are you worried about?” I couldn’t help but notice the tinge of dejection that lay beneath her question. I’d pick up even the slightest hint of emotion that deviated from her normal self. Perhaps it was because of how close we were. How much I truly valued her.

“I guess…” I struggled to find the right words. “Well… Ummm… I’m having second thoughts,” I nervously confessed. Somewhere deep inside, I hoped she would sweep me off my feet and run away with me. But she simply tilted her head once more, her hair flipping over her other shoulder. The warmth in her smile never dipped for a moment.

Slowly, she extended her hand, grasping mine. Her fingers gently slotted between my own. “Don’t worry, I’ll be by your side.” The fervour in her eyes was convincing, but her words did little to quell my growing anxiety. Instead of ‘beside me,’ the knot in my throat was screaming for her to stand in front of me. Staring longingly. Hers and hers alone.

I slapped my cheeks several times in an attempt to motivate myself, but that too did little to change the growing dread that was building as the bell toll drew ever nearer. “Are you ready?” she asked, forcing me to grit my teeth to avoid responding earnestly ‘no’.

Never letting go of my hand, she led me outside. The moment I stepped outside the wooden cabin, I was met with the sharp winter breeze that cut through the thick layers of my dress. A shiver ran down my spine. An eerie coldness had settled in undetected whilst we were hurriedly preparing my outfit. It was only now apparent that we were completely girt by fog – a blanket of frosty whiteness, creeping in from beyond the mountain range.

The cold embrace of the cloud enveloped everything but the stonebrick church in the distance. It was as if we were completely cut off from the outside world. As if everything beyond the church and my wedding had ceased to exist. All while the crows, beyond the blanket of frost, continued to cry ever louder. Run! Run! Run!

I glanced at Blaine. Her smile was unable to mask the nervous quiver of her lips. We began our walk towards the church, with me leading and her closely trailing behind. The gravel crunched beneath our feet as we approached the rustic church building.

When we reached the entrance, the oak doors creaked open. Dust motes shivered in the atmosphere. The moment I set foot on the crimson carpet, the organ wailed a rueful song. Here comes the bride, here comes the bride.

Candles flickered in a spectral waltz, casting the hall in a dim orange glow. Every step felt longer than the next. When I reached the altar, a flash of light flooded the room. Was that the photographer? The pitter-patter of rain pointed to the contrary.

Perhaps one might naturally awkwardly gaze up at the love of their life, but my attention was instead drawn to the wrinkled, grey-skinned man wearing a priest frock. He looked more like a mummified corpse that had just crawled out of a grave than a celebrant. I would have kept staring if I weren’t startled by a freezing hand on my own.

I glanced at my husband-to-be, William, for the first time since entering the church. His cold blue eyes were already locked onto me. A gaze devoid of all warmth. Yet, for a split second, I swear I caught something moving in them. Only briefly. A flicker of something. Barely noticeable. Now completely obscured behind his eyelids and a frigid smile.

I glanced at the onlookers; their lack of reaction suggested none of them noticed the frosty reception. Perhaps I just imagined it. Yet I couldn’t shake the unease. Which only added to my growing list of doubts about this event.

The celebrant began to speak, hailing the start of our wedding. His voice sounded exactly as one would imagine a talking corpse would sound, but I couldn’t focus on his comments. All I could hear was a low, continuous hum. Throughout the entire proceedings, William never once opened his eyes or dropped his smile.

“Do you, Julia, take…” The priest’s words played like white noise. I forced a smile. ‘I do,’ my mouth replied without sound. One would likely attribute my lack of voice to nerves. However, that alone couldn’t explain the gradual tightening of my airways. An unseen force, akin to a boa constrictor, seemingly strangling the words from forming.

Rather than pushing through the pain of speech, I replied with a simple nod. This seemed to satisfy the celebrant, who signalled William to proceed. He reached into his trouser pocket and retrieved a small purple box no larger than a watch face. He presented it, expectantly, on the palm of his hand. I reached out, carefully retrieving the cube. I already suspected the contents of the box – a ring.

My fingers traced the etching of the box until I reached the latch. All the while, my head felt like it was about to explode. My heart thumped rapidly as if it were seeking to flee. Through all this, the persistent cry I had heard all day continued to reverberate in my ears. However, it could no longer be passed off as a crow. It was a voice, not my own, screaming. Run now!

I exhaled a breath, though no air replaced that which was lost. A moment of repose before I recommitted, against better judgment, to open the box. I slightly nudged the latch with my thumb.

It didn’t need encouragement. The box burst open.

A grotesque, salmon-coloured tentacle shot forward and wound tightly around my neck.

Just as quick as the first, they emerged. Bursting from the tiny box. More than what should be possible.

Tentacles.

Marred by several pulsating, luminescent blue rings. Glowing. Watching like an infinite set of eyes. Starring deeper and deeper into my soul.

A putrid smell filled the air. It was a horrendous stench that left me gagging, losing what little air wasn’t already suffocated by the slimy appendage around my neck.

I reached my hand up, trying to break free, or at the very least, fight for the tiniest amount of air. But my efforts were futile. Like quicksand, the more I struggled against it, the quicker the tendrils compressed.

I instinctively glanced at Blaine for help, quickly correcting myself to look at the man I was set to marry. He merely stood there. Unmoving. His frosty blue eyes remained absent. But, for the first time, the smile he had worn throughout the ceremony slowly slipped from his face.