The Red Wedding
Rosalía’s world turned upside down after her parents' death. The news said a wild bear attacked them. She never saw the bodies because she was in Italy celebrating her eighteenth birthday.
Then she turned nineteen and had to celebrate in a room that looked like a cell, courtesy of her mafia uncle. Rosalía had a petite figure; she was slim, almost flat because she aimed to be a model and hardly ate anything that would fatten her up. But just a year after her parents' death, her uncle had managed to make her look, in her words, "like a stripper."
Her boobs had gotten bigger, her hips cuvier with buttocks as big as melons. she hated it, she hated her thick thighs. The only slim thing about her was her oblong face and fingers.
She couldn't remember the day she stepped out of her cell. She was like Rapunzel in a castle, only with red hair.
The only thing her uncle managed to give her was her piano, which she grew tired of playing. She never thought she would see such a day.
On her eighteenth birthday, her uncle barged into her room, looking as robust as a ball, to announce her wedding.
“What?”
Her eyes almost fell out of their sockets when her uncle dropped the paper she was to sign. A marriage certificate to a man named Rivero Nicklaus. “Are you serious? There's no fuc—” Her head swerved to the left when her uncle's wife slapped her hard.
“You forget your place,” the woman sneered. Rosalía couldn't raise her head.
“I am doing you a great favor. Your parents allowed you to roam the world, doing who knows what. They spoiled you, gave you too much freedom. No man will want you except Rivero, of course. He has a certain type, and you, my dear, are just what he wants,” her uncle said, dragging his eyes lustfully down her body. “This man is willing to pay a huge amount of money for you. Mess this up, and I will kill you, your dumb boyfriend, and your little blonde friend.”
Rosalía quickly went on her knees to beg. “Please, I won't mess it up. Please don't kill Devan and Brittany. I beg you, please.” She knew her uncle; he didn't hesitate to kill her pet pigeon when she was six simply because she refused to greet him.
Her uncle Edward Lorenzo hated happiness. One could tell from the decor of his house—black and gray with eerie artifacts.
“Now, listen.” Edward crouched to her level and tilted her chin up. She was forced to look into his dead brown eyes. “Rivero is not a man you want to mess with. You might consider me a beast, but Rivero is a true monster. Do what he says, and you might just live past his last wife,” he smirked.
“I hear she died a year after the marriage. At least she did better than the last two wives before her,” Edward's wife snickered.
Rosalía didn't know when her body started shaking. Fear had consumed her. She knew how dirty and dark the mafia world was; she never thought she'd be involved.
She was eventually forced to sign the papers. “Good, that wasn't so hard, was it? Girls, prepare her for the wedding,” Edward ordered the maids who had entered Rosalía’s room with him.
Rosalía frowned, confused. “W-when is the wedding?” she looked between her uncle and his wife.
Her uncle grinned. “Tonight.”
What?
This must be a sick joke, Rosalia thought as the maids took her to another room. A wedding couldn't possibly happen at night. It wasn’t until she saw the gown she was told to change into.
The wedding gown was a stunning blood-red satin, clinging to her figure and flaring into a dramatic train. Black lace adorned the plunging neckline and long sleeves, adding a touch of dark elegance. The gown was both breathtaking and haunting.
“A red gown?” she asked out loud but got no response. Rosalía was left confused as they dressed her and made her ready. There was no mirror in sight, so she used the window. She looked gorgeous, but she still hated her body. There was no way she could be a model now.
Outside the window, it was dark with the full moon brightening the area. For some reason, she felt strange inside.
The red veil over her face made it hard to see, but they managed to get her to the venue. She wondered what time it was. Twelve? Past twelve? She was taken to the door of what looked like a chapel and was left alone. The car that brought her and the maids drove off.
She thought of running away, but fear held her down. She was alone outside the chapel but could feel eyes on her.
Suddenly, the large doors of the chapel opened, and an eerie piano tune began on cue. Her heart began to palpitate. It was dark except for the lit candles that illuminated the path to the altar. The chapel looked empty, but she could feel the presence of people. Her hands, holding her bouquet, shook.
Despite the fear, she felt drawn. Slowly and shakily, she walked down the aisle, her eyes staying down until she got to where she was to stand.
A cold wind blew past her and tickled her nape. She looked up and met with dark shades. What?
The groom stood tall and imposing. He was clad in a black tailored suit, but his eyes were covered by dark shades. Why? Was he blind? she wondered. His hair, a glossy black, fell just above his shoulders, framing a face that was both handsome and unnervingly cold.
“The vows,” an old, gruff voice spoke from the side. She jerked. When did the priest get here?
She gasped when a boy came up to her with a plate carrying a paper. Her heart was in her mouth when she picked it up. She couldn't bring herself to look back up at the groom because even with his eyes covered, he terrified and intimidated her.
"In the shadows where I dwell, I bind you to me for all eternity,” he began. His lips hardly moved, but his voice was a deep, velvety baritone that sent shivers down her spine. It had a mesmerizing, almost hypnotic quality, each word dripping with dark promise.
“Your heartbeat will echo through the ages, a symphony of life in the void of my existence. As the night consumes the day, so shall I consume you, body and soul, forevermore." There was an underlying menace to his tone, dangerous and dark. “Will you embrace this eternal darkness and be my bloody bride?”
For a while, she said nothing, still shocked and confused, until the priest cleared his throat. She looked down at the paper and read out loud with a soft voice that shook more with each word.
"In this cursed union, I surrender my mortal breath. My blood, my will, my very essence, I offer unto you. Bound in darkness, Yes, I will be your bride. I'll follow you through endless nights, a captive in your eternal grasp.”
Deep within her, Rosalia felt like she had just sold her soul to the devil. Her entire body felt cold. What have I done? she asked herself.
