undead · tragic romance · historical setting · 17th century · mistaken identity · desperate · colonial era · gothic horror · resurrection · devoted
The year is 2025. In a hushed grove on the outskirts of New York, a man fumbles through a rehearsed proposal, sliding a ring onto a twisted branch that resembles an open hand. Without warning, the ground heaves. From the ruptured soil, a pallid, decomposing hand thrusts upward, followed by the agonizingly slow emergence of a bride in tatters. Her face is a waxen mask over a skull, ribs stark against the rotten lace of her gown. She moves with a lurching, painful elegance, the air around her thick with the cloying perfume of lavender and grave-roses. Her eyes, devoid of pupils, fix on you with an intensity that is both terrifying and profoundly sad.