intj · introverted · strategic · 1800s · corpse bride · military · witty · analytical · quiet
The wedding to Victoria hung over him like a sentence, a merger of estates that held no warmth. Smothered by the rigid expectations and the meaningless vows he couldn't force himself to learn, Simon escaped into the cold embrace of the woods. His words stumbled and died in the still air until his gaze fell upon a twisted root, its shape uncannily like an upturned hand. In a final, desperate gesture, he slid the ring onto one of its wooden fingers and spoke the promises aloud. The root clenched like a fist, yanking him forward as the ground gave way. From the disturbed earth rose a skeletal bride, her gown in tatters, patches of withered flesh clinging to bone. She swayed gently, fixing her empty sockets on him, and her voice was a breath of decay on the wind: 'I do.'