V+V=<3 : A Corpse Bride Novel

2006-12-31T23:59:00.000-05:00

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six

Chapter Six

2006-01-01T13:29:00.000-05:00

Both of their complexions turned several shades paler. “Victor,” whispered Victoria. “What does it mean?”

Victor rose from the couch. “I don’t know,” he replied, “but I have a feeling we’ll soon find out.” Victoria stood up and followed Victor towards the stairs. Victor had reached the third step before their absence was noticed.

“Victor,” called Nell. “Where are you off to?” She eyed him suspiciously.

Victor frowned. Somehow, he had a feeling that even though he and Victoria were married, they would always be treated as children. “I have something important to show Victoria up in my room.”

Nell grew a frown to match Victor’s. “Aren’t you going to offer Victoria a drink?”

“I’m not thirsty, really,” said Victoria. She tapped Victor’s shoulder gently and said, “Go on.”

Victor smiled and continued climbing up the stairs to his room with Victoria close behind. They finally reached his quarters after a few more stairs. Victor and Victoria entered the room and sat on the bed. “Open it,” Victoria whispered. She had no idea what might be in the envelope, but she knew the sooner it was opened, the sooner they would know. With a trembling hand, Victor turned over the envelope and slipped his finger in a gap where it had been sealed with wax. The stamped insignia was a decaying rose in an open book. Victor broke the seal with care and lifted up the flap. He pulled out a graying piece of parchment and began reading aloud.

“Dear Victor,” he said with Victoria holding on to his arm and reading over his shoulder. “Greetings from the Land of the Dead! We hope you’ve been doing well since our—pardon the pun—departure from your home. Now that our pleasantries are done, we have something to inquire of you; are you and Victoria free on Wednesday night? Reply by writing your answer below the end of the letter. Your friends, Elder Gutknecht and Emily. PS: Congratulations on your marriage.” Victor looked up from the letter and glanced at Victoria. She wore the same puzzled face that he did.

“Victor,” she asked, “who are those people?” Victoria had hoped to learn more about the skeletons and corpses that had attended her husband’s near marriage to the corpse woman while on their honeymoon, but the need to know had arisen after he read the letter.

“Well, Elder Gutknecht is the expert on laws and spells in the Land of the Dead. The Land of the Dead is where everyone goes when they die. And Emily…well, she’s the corpse I nearly married. She’s a good friend now, but I love you.”

Victoria nodded. She understood his friendship with Emily After all, she had let Victor come back to her. “So…what are you going to say?” She wouldn’t mind if he said yes, just as long as she would be with him.

“I suppose I’ll say that we are free, although I don’t know how writing on the paper will help…” Victor pulled a quill from an inkwell and tapped the end of it on his chin thoughtfully. “Is that okay with you?”

“Well, sure, I don’t mind. I wonder why they asked.” She laughed as Victor nearly poked himself in the eye with the quill.
Victor dropped the quill as Victoria began laughing. He blushed a bit but smiled all the same. She’s so understanding, he thought. He bent over and picked it up. With a flourish, he wrote in a blank part of the letter, Victoria and I are free, aside from being somewhere north of here on our honeymoon. Why? From Victor. Instantly, the letter turned a pale shade of blue, and more writing appeared below his. However, this part looked rushed, as if written in a hurry. It also seemed as if someone else had written it.

Victor studied it, and then read, “That’s fabulous! We can’t wait to see you. You’ll just have to wait to see what will happen. Emily. PS: Tell Victoria I said hello.” Victor placed the letter back on his desk and looked at Victoria. This will prove to be interesting, he thought. Who knows what they have in store for us tomorrow.
“Well then. I suppose that explains a little of what’s going on,” said Victoria, trying to be positive. Unfortunately now that the mystery of the magic envelope had been solved, she and Victor were left with idle time until their departure. Although, Victoria mused, I’ll probably need to return home for my things eventually.

“Yes, I suppose so,” Victor replied, aware of the same Victoria was thinking. “Oh!” he exclaimed, remembering his previous task. “I have something for you. Why don’t you wait here and I’ll fetch it.” Victoria nodded in response. “Wait a moment and I’ll be right back.” Victor left the room and headed downstairs Luckily, he wasn’t seen or heard by his parents, who were having a heated discussion in the kitchen.

“But Nell,” echoed his father’s voice through the short hallway between the sitting room and the kitchen, “they’re married. He can do what he wants; he’s not a child, you know.” Victor paused, his hand halfway to his picture and the frame. I wonder what my dear mother said to provoke my father to stick up for me, Victor wondered idly. Usually, Victor’s father didn’t rebel against his mother’s ideas. Trying not to be nosy, he took the frame and opened the back. Being careful not to further wrinkle the picture, Victor dropped it into the frame and reattached the back. He turned it over, and Victoria’s smiling face greeted him. He smiled back at the picture and returned to his room.

Victoria sat smiling on the bed, just where she had been before. “What have you brought me?” she asked thoughtfully.

Victor took the framed picture from behind his back and handed it to her. “I finished it this morning,” he explained. Victoria took it as he sat on the bed.

“You’re so thoughtful, Victor,” she said. She put the picture down on the bed and hugged Victor. After she let go, she asked, “What are we going to do now? It’s only—” she looked at the clock above the bed. “—10:45, and I don’t think I’ll be very welcome at home quite yet.”

Victor answered a little shakily. “Well…perhaps we could go walk around the shops in town a bit. Would you like to do that?”

Victoria smiled and rose from the bed. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. Although I’m not sure what I’ll do for a coat…” Her shoulders drooped, and Victor’s coat slid down her arms. She caught it with her hands and offered it to Victor.

Victor shook his head and nudged the jacket toward Victoria. “You can use it for now. I have others.” He too rose from the bed. He walked over to a closet and pulled out a jacket similar to the one Victoria was wearing. “See?” he said. He put it on and smiled. Victoria turned to face him. “Of course,” she said. She looked around the room and asked, “Haven’t you packed yet?”

Victor hit his forehead with his hand. “No, I haven’t. I knew I was forgetting something…” Victor returned to his closet with renewed haste. He randomly threw pants and shirts from their hangers across the room and onto the bed. Victoria stifled a giggle as her husband continued on. She began folding the clothes on the bed almost as fast as Victor threw them.

Finally satisfied, Victor turned around to find that unknown to him, Victoria had begun folding the clothes. However, in his hurried frenzy, he had managed to throw a white dress shirt on her. They both burst out laughing as Victoria removed the shirt from her head. When they could laugh no more, Victor apologized. “I’m terribly sorry. It’s just that my mother instructed me to pack before she left this morning, and if I don’t do it now, I don’t think I’ll ever get around to it.” He smiled as she folded the last shirt and laid it atop the others.

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m more than happy to help. Do you have a suitcase or something of that nature to put them in?”

“Why yes, yes I do,” Victor replied. He opened his closet once more and pulled out a sole suitcase from a shelf. Carefully, he pulled it down to arm level and heaved it over to an empty spot on the bed. With less vigor than before, Victor began putting the clothes into the open suitcase.

Noticing his lack of enthusiasm, Victoria said, “Here, let me help you.” She crossed the room and started to help Victor pack. Each of them began filling up one side of the suitcase, somewhat wary of each other’s hands. Finally, Victor put the last pair of slacks in the suitcase and pulled down the lid. “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Victoria said with a laugh.

“No, I suppose not,” Victor responded. He ruffled his hair and smiled. “Now how about that walk?”

“Let’s go!” said Victoria, her voice drenched in her eagerness to leave. If we hang around much longer, I fear my parents will find me. Her parents—the mere notion of them coming brought realization that she wasn’t ready to face them yet. Rather, she wasn’t ready to face her mother’s ignorance and stupidity yet.

Shaking her distressed thoughts, Victoria took Victor’s outstretched hand. They entered the hallway, and upon reaching the stairs, Victor walked ahead, allowing his arm to drag behind him so Victoria wouldn’t have to let go. They reached the foot of the stairs and met Victor’s mother.

“Are you going out?” she asked without any prelude or pleasantries.
“Yes,” Victor answered. “Why do you ask?” Victoria squeezed his hand a little harder as a result of her nerves.

“Well, it’s just that you’ll be leaving at one o’clock sharp, and Victoria still needs to fetch her things, so plan accordingly.” She turned to face Victoria, eyeing her coat. “You’re not going out in that, are you? Here take one of my coats.” Nell rushed in the direction of the hall closet.

“No, really,” Victoria called, “this is fine for this outing.” She turned to Victor, a plea in her eye.

“Quickly, let’s go,” he said. Victor was surprised by his bravery before he recalled what Victoria had said earlier. If love makes you do crazy things, he thought, let the craziness ensue. He took her hand and they sped out the door. “We’ll be back in an hour or so,” Victor called. He closed the door behind him while Victoria looked up at the sky. A light snow had begun to fall. She smiled, and Victor took her hand in his.

“So,” she said as they began to walk down a sidewalk leading to the town square. “What are we going to do on our honeymoon? It’s a rather long time to be…erm, alone.” Smooth, she thought. You’ve gotten shy again. Her hand twitched involuntarily in Victor’s.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about that myself,” he confessed. He felt the twitch of her hand again and realized that they were both nervous. “I’m sure there’ll be something there to keep us occupied.”

Victoria was relieved that her husband managed to keep the conversation going. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. There’s also the chance your friends have something planned for us. What are they like?”

“Well,” Victor said, “there’s Emily; she’s fairly nice. Sometimes she can be depressed, but just as fast, she’s back on her feet. There’s also Bonejangles. He’s a skeleton that sings at a pub called The Ball and Socket. Oh, and my old dog is there. His name was Scraps. He’s a skeleton now, but he’s as friendly as could be.”

They turned a corner and found themselves amidst a bustle of activity. There were carriages everywhere, and many business owners had already opened their shops. Most notable to Victor was the fact that his father’s fish store was closed. That was nice of him, to take off of work to see me off, Victor thought. Then it occurred to him that one day, he might be running the store himself. However he shook away these thoughts. Another worry for another day, he thought.

Next to him Victoria let out a small gasp as a carriage nearly knocked her off her feet. It stopped a few feet ahead, and a young man of about sixteen years stepped out. He called as he approached, “What are you doing so close to the road? I’m on important business and likewise don’t have time to inspect every peasant that takes it upon themselves to interrupt my affairs by nearly getting themselves run over.” He pulled out a pocket watch and briefly looked at it before shoving it back into his pocket.

“Oh! I’m…sorry.” Victoria’s shyness returned and once more took her in its tight grasp.

“You should be,” said the boy. “Today is my brother’s funeral.” Ironically, the young man collapsed into a heap on the ground and began sobbing hysterically.

Confused as they were, Victor and Victoria walked over to the man. “Sir,” said Victor, “if you are on your way there now, I might suggest getting up.” In response, the boy only howled louder. Soon, a man emerged from the carriage. He was well built although, his face betrayed traces of age defining wrinkles. He wore a jet-black suit, which gave him the appearance of a shadow among the fresh fallen snow.

“I’m sorry,” said the second man. “It’s a very emotional day for us. You see, I had two sons before my wife fled our home. She was afraid of the soldiers that were invading our country. Their forces were…well, not very kind to the women. My eldest son ran after her, only to find out that she’d been killed.” The man picked up the boy and put him back in the carriage. He returned and continued the tragic tale. “My son cursed his mother’s stupidity. He blamed her paranoia for her death. He ran away, supposedly to a town near here where he stayed for three years or so. He then found a girl here he fancied.” The man wiped his eyes with a handkerchief. “Then he-he—” The man wiped his wet face. “He killed her,” he whispered quietly.

Victoria’s grip tightened on her husband’s hand. The man obviously meant to continue, for he said, “Then he apparently disappeared for a while. He came back last week, found another girl, and obviously intended to do it again. Although what happened next is uncertain, we definitely know he died. Someone found his corpse in the church.”

Victor and Victoria were as pale as death. Victor ventured, “I know what happened to him. I—we were there.”

The man looked up in surprise. “But how? The officers said—”

Victor interrupted, eager to get far away from this man and his remaining son. “He married the girl. They were going to leave, but the dead came up here for another wedding between a man and a corpse. Your son was surprised to see the corpse was the woman he killed. He tried to kill the man, for the man was originally to marry the girl that your son did. He would have succeeded too, if not for the poison he mistook for wine.” Victoria began sobbing quietly at just how close he had come, and Victor took her in his arm’s embrace. He continued in a whispered hush. “I was the other man. Victoria—” He inclined his head to the shoulder where her head lay. “—was the girl, and your son?” Victor said.

“Lord Barkis Bittern,” the man whispered before running back into the carriage. The carriage sped off, leaving Victor and Victoria crying on the corner. However, another carriage soon replaced where the previous one had been. The door was opened, revealing Mr. and Mrs. Everglot inside.

Chapter Five

2005-11-21T14:23:00.001-05:00

It was Victor who moved first. He jumped back in recoil from the noise of the crash. He found a broom in a corner while Victoria stood motionless from shock. Oh no… she thought. If mother and father weren’t awake before, they are now, I suppose. She didn’t want them to see the bowl, however unlikely it was that they would miss it. It was more probable that they would be angry that Victor had broken it, or that Victor was in the house at all.

“Victor,” she said, getting the dustpan, “you should probably leave soon. I know,” she consoled him, noticing his look of protest, “you’re my husband, but my parents, they don’t really like you as much as they should, and they’ll look for any reason to find fault with you.”

He swept the glass into the dustpan, and Victoria threw the shards in a garbage pail. “Are you sure I don’t want you to be reprimanded for the bowl…” Victor sent Victoria a pleading look.
Victoria closed her eyes and shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I believe I’d be more heavily reprimanded if they knew that you’d been here.”

“Well, only if you insist. I suppose I’ll see you later today then.” He looked as if he was going to hug her, but Victoria had other plans; she kissed him softly on the cheek and blushed.

“Bye Victor,” she whispered. “Thanks again for the help. Now go, quickly.”

Victor touched the spot on his cheek where she had kissed him and smiled. “Goodbye,” he said. He ran from the kitchen doors and out of Victoria’s sight.

Victoria sighed happily. So willing to take the blame…oh Victor, why do my parents hate you so? She found another bowl in a cabinet. Oh yes, she remembered, they think less of you because of your father’s fish business and your supposed lack of social status. She frowned, hating social hierarchies. She took the remaining eggs from the table and cracked them into the bowl. She mixed them quickly, and in her haste, she spilled some of the liquid onto the counter. “Oh well,” she said to no one in particular.

Victoria poured the eggs into the pan and placed the lid on it. She turned up the burner to speed up the cooking time. The clock on the wall read 10 o’clock. Come on, she thought impatiently, glaring at the pan. Cook faster. Eager to speed the waiting process, she picked up the two egg-ridden plates. Balancing one on each hand, she walked through the swinging doors backside first. She placed the plates at their proper places. Victoria picked up the only empty plate and returned to the kitchen.

Overwhelmed by the eggs’ scent, Victoria waved her hand in front of her nose. She checked on the eggs, delighted to see they were finished at last. She put them on her mother’s plate with care and found another lid for the plate. She placed it on the plate and returned to the dining hall, where she returned the plate to its rightful place.

Where are my parents? she wondered. Surely they’d be awake by now…just how much did they drink last night? Victoria wandered from the dining hall to the foyer. She climbed the stairs leading to her parents’ bedroom. “I hope they don’t mind being roused. Surely they would expect it, being this late,” she whispered. Finally she reached the threshold of her parents’ quarters. She knocked lightly on the door and asked, “Mother? Father? Are you awake?”

An intense burst of life resulted from that simple question. Two voices broke the house’s tranquil silence at once. “Go ‘way.” “Wait, is that clock right?” “Oh no, we should’ve been up hours ago!” “Girl, why didn’t you wake us earlier?” “You’re leaving today!”

Victoria sighed; ultimately, she liked her parents better when they were slumbering. Ignoring the bustling noises and commands, she resumed walking down the hall to her room. She opened toe door to see the three suitcases stacked orderly on her bed. Her thoughts consumed her. This will be one of my last visits to this room. She recalled Victor in her room; trying to escape her barred confines with a fire poker; climbing down two stories in the rain…she was flooded with memories. Soon I’ll have a room with Victor, and we can make new memories together. She smiled at these sunny prospects and closed the door.

“Victoria,” called her mother from what sounded like the dining hall. Oh dear, she thought. What now? Victoria hurried down the stairs and walked into the hall.

“Yes?” she asked, clueless to the reasoning behind her summoning. Her mother and father were seated at the table, staring at the place settings and the servings lids.

“What’s all this then?” asked her mother. She gestured to the lidded plate and the silverware so Victoria would know exactly what she was talking about. Shoot, thought Victoria randomly, I forgot drinks.

“Well, I thought breakfast would be nice, so I cooked some up.” That’s half true, Victoria reconciled herself.

“Bah,” said Maudeline, “since when do you know how to cook? Don’t lie to me, who helped you?” She stared expectantly at her daughter, awaiting an answer with a scowl.

It’s about time I stood up for my rights, she thought, recalling her conversation with Victor earlier that morning. Without warning, Victoria stepped between her seated parents and removed the lids from the plates. “Eat up, or they’ll get cold.” She returned to the kitchen, noticing her parents’ stunned expressions before leaving the room: her father’s eyebrows almost touched his ever-receding hairline, and her mother’s mouth agape. She smiled I satisfaction. Not…where are the glasses? She began looking in higher cabinets, and soon she found three tall glasses that were usually used during their morning meal. She looked in the icebox, delighted to have found milk from the milkman’s last trip.

Baby steps, Victoria reminded herself. They’ll likely be put off my sudden rebellion and have something to say if I take things too quickly. She took the three glasses into the dining hall, and Victoria was surprised to see her parents humbly eating without protest or comment. She put the glasses in their proper places, but her parents didn’t even bother to look up from their meal.
She awkwardly returned to the kitchen for the milk and soon went back to the hall. She carefully poured the milk into each of the glasses before returning the milk to the icebox.

Wordlessly, Victoria sat down in her seat to finally eat breakfast. She cut into her eggs with subtle vigor, keeping in mind the possibility of her parents’ temper if she should break any etiquette rules. She washed the first few bites down with milk before her parents resumed speaking.

“So what, you’re not speaking to us now?” Her father spoke first, oddly enough.

After swallowing, Victoria replied, “No, I merely remembered that we needed drinks.” She returned to her breakfast. If they want answers, they’ll have to ask for them, she thought.

“So, tell us, who helped you? I won’t be angry,” her father persuaded. Victoria was slightly taken aback by her father’s kindness, but her mother soon intruded upon her daughter’s soon to be pleasant demeanor.

“Well, I will be angry!” Maudeline said. “I won’t have the whole neighborhood prancing around my home while I’m asleep!” She deepened her frown and furrowed her brow in anger.

“But that’s just it!” cried Victoria. “It wasn’t the whole neighborhood; it was just Victor. I for one believe I have every right to invite my husband into my current home.” Uncharacteristically, Victoria frowned and took another bite of her eggs. If she was dismissed from the table, she wanted to leave it with a full stomach.

“I agree with you to a point,” said her father. “Just ask us first next time.” Finnus noticed that his wife shot him a condemning look, and he ceased speaking.

Maudeline closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before shouting loudly across the table at her daughter. “NO, YOU DO NOT HAVE A RIGHT TO INVITE HIM INTO MY HOUSE! YOU—”

Fed up with her mother, Victoria interrupted her. “What is wrong with you? I cooked you breakfast, I’m all packed, I’ve done everything short of leaving for the honeymoon now! I can’t understand your grudge against Victor, seeing as how you wanted me to marry him in the first place!” Victoria took another bite of her eggs before realizing she had lost her appetite. She took her plate into the kitchen and shoveled the remaining eggs into the garbage pail with her fork.

I can’t wait to leave this house, Victoria finally realized. Maybe I should just leave for Victor’s house now… She toyed with this possibility and made her decision. Yes, that’s good. Besides, I won’t be able to be around my mother much longer without getting myself in trouble, she thought. Intent on getting her house key so she couldn’t be locked out, Victoria reentered the dining hall with a quickened pace. Her mother looked as if she wanted nothing less than to strangle her daughter, but her father sent her a reproachful look.

“Come Victoria, can’t we talk about this?” her father asked. Even though Finnus didn’t particularly like his daughter’s new husband, he could sense that she really did, even though it had been an arranged marriage. Looking back on the day after he had been wed to Maudeline, he could remember how angry he had been and that it had taken him a full month to come to terms with his new wife. And here Victoria actually likes her husband, he thought.

“I’m sorry Father. I did talk, but my dear mother won’t listen.” Without another word, Victoria began the ascent to her room while her father continued calling to her.

Victoria ignored him with effort. She reached her room and shut herself inside. I don’t even want to face them on my way out, she thought dryly. At that moment, an idea entered her mind. What if I left from my room? she wondered. She recalled her previous departure from her room and smiled. Yes, that is what I’ll do. Victoria opened a drawer and pulled out two bed sheets. She tied the corners together. As a safety precaution, she tied the end of her makeshift rope to a bedpost and pulled on the opposite end with all her weight. She was delighted to see the knot withheld her weight. She gathered up the sheets and headed out into the cold from the glass doors that led to the balcony outside, thinking fondly of Victor.

~

A few minutes later, Maudeline was still ranting on to her husband about their daughter. “How dare she defy me? I’m the reason she would up with that boy anyway.” She took a ravenous bite of egg and drank some milk.

Finnus sat up from his slouched position. “No,” he said quietly. “She wouldn’t. Not after last time…”

Maudeline looked over at her husband, one eyebrow raised with confusion. “What? What is it?”
Finnus rose from his chair. “Come on,” he said, looking at his seated wife. “There might not be much time.”

His wife rose from her chair and followed him up the stairs. “What?” she asked again. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” They climbed the stairs and reached the hallway that led to Victoria’s room.

“It’s…Victoria,” Finnus managed to huff out. Physical fitness was not one of his stronger qualities, and even the hastened trip up the stairs had left him out of breath. “I think…she might have…left.”

Maudeline stared at her husband, doubt etched on her face. “But how?” she asked. Finally, Finnus stopped in front of his daughter’s bedroom door. He wrenched it open, and Maudeline gasped.

“Oh, Victoria,” her father sighed. The room was unoccupied, and the glass doors that led to the small balcony were wide open. One of Victoria’s white sheets could be seen fluttering from the base of one of the posts surrounding the edge of the balcony.

Maudeline screamed in a fit of rage, “VICTORIA!” before collapsing in a crumpled heap on her daughter’s bed, pounding her fist on the mattress.

~

Victor was upstairs in his room, gazing at his portrait of Victoria. He thought of her affectionate kiss in her kitchen, and he penciled in the lace along her sleeve. Finished at last, Victor thought happily. He set off downstairs in search of a frame. Perhaps I can give this to her as a wedding present. I already know she’ll like it, he thought. Victor had just spotted a frame under an older book when he heard a knock at the door.

His father rose from a chair in the room and called, “I’ll get it!” Victor picked up the frqame and brushed some dust off of the side as his father opened the door.

“HelloisVictorhome?” said a familiar voice from the doorway. Is that…Victoria? he wondered. He put down the frame and picture and rushed to the door. His father beckoned his bride inside, and she rushed into the house. She looked a bit different than how she’d looked when she had when she’d entered the house earlier that day; her teeth were chattering, her hands and cheeks were red from the cold, and she wasn’t wearing a jacket.

“Victoria! Where’s your coat?” Victor took his won coat from a hook on the wall and put it around her trembling shoulders. “What’s happened to you?” he asked.

Victoria and Victor walked into the sitting room, and both of them sat on the couch. “Well, I got into an argument with my parents after I woke them. My mother asked who had helped me. I told her, and then she became very angry at what I’d done. I wound up going to my room, and well…” If Victoria’s cheeks hadn’t been so red, she would have blushed. “I kind of snuck out.” She giggled softly and closed her eyes.

Victor smiled at her and patted her ice cold hands. “Oh my,” he said. “At least you have our trip to look forward to.”

Victoria opened her eyes and took Victor’s hand. “I am. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to it. I—” She was interrupted by the front door opening and a gust of wind blowing into the room.

“Oi, it’s a cold one today. Almost looks like…” Nell set her eyes on Victoria. “Snow. William, you didn’t tell me we had company,” she said to her husband.

William, who had taken a seat, stood up and said, “Well, it was unexpected…”

Victoria looked at Victor’s mother and said, “It’s true. I wasn’t scheduled to come by for another few hours. Your family has graciously taken me in.” She smiled politely and squeezed Victor’s hand.

“Oh, right. Anyway, I’ve found the strangest thing outside in our post box.” She presented an envelope from her coat pocket and handed it to Victor. “The weirdest thing was that a crow was perched on the box and flew away soon as I came near. Crows don’t usually come this far into town during the winter…” Nell took off her coat and left to hang it up.

Victor and Victoria stared at the envelope. There was a bit of an unearthly glow to it. However, the thing that Victor’s head spin was the return address: Elder Gutknecht, Land of the Dead.

Chapter Four

2005-11-15T21:12:00.000-05:00

Victor ruffled his hair in despair. He had always hated packing and usually pushed it off until the last minute possible. Loyal to that trait, he had done this once again. Now he stood facing his open closet and drawers. He sighed, the inevitable packing finally upon him. Why do I always do this to myself? he asked rhetorically. Defeated, he stepped toward his closet and sighed. He had just spotted a pair of pants he wanted to bring as the doorbell rang.

He turned around, expecting his father to claim he would answer the door, but instead he heard silence. He left his room and headed downstairs, not surprised to find his father asleep on a chair, snoring softly. Who could be at the door this early? he wondered. The doorbell rang again as Victor called, “Coming!” as he approached the door. He opened the door a sliver, surprised to find his eyes set on his bride.

“Hello Victor,” she said with a smile. “I look forward to seeing you again this afternoon as we head out for our…erm, honeymoon.”

Victor opened the door the rest of the way. “Victoria! Hello! It’s good to see you. Come in, come in,” he said, beckoning her inside.

“Thank you,” she said as he closed the door behind her. She took off her jacket and gloves, looking for a place to put them.

Victor followed her gaze. “Here,” he said a bit awkwardly, “let me take your coat.” She handed it to him and rubbed her hands together. “Come,” he said. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you,” she said again, warming her hands by the fire. Her cheeks began to regain their rosy tint from the warmth of the house. “Victor,” she said, looking him in the eyes with an honest plea n hers. “I need your help. I need to cook my parents breakfast, but—” Here she blushed with embarrassment. “—I don’t know how to cook, or even where our cooking utensils are. Can you—no, rather, would you help me?”

Victor answered without hesitation. “Of course I will,” he said, a smile forming on his lips. “What are we making?”

“Breakfast,” she said. “Perhaps eggs and toast?” She was pleased that her plan was working, but Victoria knew that in order for her to complete it, they needed to return to her house very soon.

Victor replied, “That sounds good to me.” He retrieved her coat and put it around her shoulders. She looked up at him, confused. “If we don’t start soon, we’ll be having breakfast for lunch,” he explained.

Realizing his point, Victoria rose from the chair and said, “Okay, let’s go then!” Victor walked over to the hooks on the wall with the coats hanging from them. He took his coat as Victoria followed him. He opened the door for her and followed her out of the house. “Wait,” said Victoria. “What about your father? Will he be all right?”

Victor glanced at his slumbering father before closing and locking the door behind him. “I’ll think he’ll be all right if I leave for an hour or so.” He smiled at Victoria as they began walking toward her house, which was about four blocks away. Victor had taken about twenty steps before becoming aware of the awkward silence that had risen between them. “So,” Victor asked, “were your parents…upset last night when you got home?”

Victoria sighed and put on her gloves. “Well, my mother exploded and I’d been possessed by a demonic force to follow you home. But hey,” she said, “love makes you do crazy things sometimes.”

“Yeah…” said Victor. Both of them blushed and looked away. Victoria laughed at how similar they were, and soon Victor was laughing too.

“So how about your parents?” asked Victoria. “What did they say?”

Victor breathed on his hands to warm them before he answered. “As soon as you closed the door, my parents started talking at the same time. Or at least my father was talking. My mother was yelling; I would be surprised if the whole neighborhood didn’t hear her.”

Victoria looked at him quizzically. “What was she saying?” she asked.

“Something about it being bad luck leaving the reception, and what the neighbors would say. It was funny, actually,” he said smiling. “After that, my father told her to shut up because she was killing his ears.” Both of them burst into laughter at the hilarity of their parents’ ignorance. They continued laughing until they reached the Everglot manor. Victor turned a full shade paler than the cold had made him. Victoria patted his hand reassuringly and unlocked the door. She wiped her feet on a mat and waved Victor inside. He followed a bit reluctantly, taking off his jacket as he stepped over the threshold.

Victoria took his coat and hung it on the coat rack with hers. “Come on,” she said. He followed her through the dining room into the kitchen. She turned to face him in front of the stove. “Okay,” she said. “Teach me, oh great one.” She smiled jokingly.

“Well,” said Victor, “we need to wash our hands first.” They walked over to the sink, and they both reached for the knob of the sink at the same time. Their hands met, and both of them blushed. Victor turned on the water and lathered up his hands. As he dried them, Victoria washed her hands.

Victor began searching in the lower cabinets for a frying pan, recalling that Victoria had mentioned making eggs. He found it on the second try and was pleased. He looked toward Victoria to see how she was faring, noticing she had dried her hands and was watching him.

“What next?” she asked. “How can I help?” She began to weave and unweave her fingers eagerly, awaiting her husband’s instruction.

He motioned to the icebox. “We’ll need butter and eggs,” he said. “You can get them.” He walked over to the stove as she rummaged for their ingredients.

“How many eggs?” she asked.

Victor thought for a moment, and then decided, “We’ll need two eggs for each person. So six.” He opened the butter, but realized he needed a knife. He asked her, “Do you know where the knives are?”

Victoria pointed to a drawer next to the sink. “In there,” she said, holding three eggs with care. She gently set them down on the table, and she was surprised to see them roll across the table. “Victor! Help!” she said. “The eggs!”

Victor half-heartedly suppressed a giggle. He walked over to the eggs and stopped them with his arm just as they were about to meet the floor. He rolled them back over to where they were and said, “Victoria, hold them there for a moment.” He pulled three tablespoons from the drawer and put one in front of Victoria’s hand, which was keeping the eggs from rolling. He lifted her hand, and two of the eggs rolled, but stopped at the spoon. Victor put the third egg in front of another spoon and returned to the stove. “Come here, and we’ll start cooking,” he said.

Victoria walked over to the stove slowly. I hope I don’t mess up, she thought concernedly.

“Okay, let’s begin then,” said Victor, interrupting Victoria’s worried thoughts. “To make eggs, first you put butter in the pan and spread it out a bit so the eggs don’t stick to the pan.” He did this, and let Victoria do it for a while. Then he took back the pan and put it back on the burner. “Now,” he said, staring at the floor, “how do you like your eggs?”

Victoria thought for a moment, then replied, “I rather like my eggs sunny side up, if you can do that.” She looked at him and smiled nervously.

Victor said, “Oh! Sunny side up is rather easy to make. You just crack the egg open over the pan and let it cook for a bit. Would you like to do the honors?” He indicated the pan and waited for her answer.

“Well, all right,” she said. Victoria walked over to the table and chose an egg. She looked at victor, and he motioned for her to get another. I hope I can eat all of it, she thought. She took her eggs to the stove to meet their seemingly delicious fate.

Victor shuffled his feet and took an egg. “I’ll do the first one, and you can do the other. Is…is that okay with you?” he asked. Victor knew Victoria wanted to help. In addition, he was trying to remain nonchalant, but yet a teacher, but not to the point that he would make her feel inferior. He cleared his head of these thoughts, trying to keep his mind on his work.

“Do you know how to crack an egg?” he asked. He knew she hadn’t known much about cooking, but he didn’t want to go too fast or skip steps.

Victoria shook her head with a sad smile. “No, I can’t say that I do. How do you do that?” she asked, thankful she wasn’t a very proud person, else this whole plan would break apart at the seams.

“Well,” said Victor, moving aside so she could see properly, “you just tap the egg against a tabletop or the rim of a bowl—” He did so using the edge of the counter. “—and you stick your thumbs in the crack you’ve made and gently pull apart.” He did this and the egg slid from its shell into the pan. “Now you try,” said Victor, who began looking for a lid for the frying pan.

“Like this?” asked Victoria, thumbs ready to open the egg. Victor banged his head on the inside of a lower cabinet he’d been looking in for the lid in his haste to see.

“Yes,” he replied, rubbing his injured head. “Go ahead.” He returned to the offending cabinet, and soon he found a lid. Victoria opened the shell and squealed in delight when it joined Victor’s in the pan. Victor put the lid on the pan and smiled. “You’re a natural,” he said, awkwardly patting her shoulder. “So how do your parents like their eggs?” he asked.

“Scrambled, the both of them.” Victoria laughed at this, although Victor failed to see the humor at first. However, Victor soon thought of how scrambled their minds were, and joined in laughing. They stood laughing for a while, and it soon passed and their sobriety returned.

Victor passed a sigh of content and said, “More eggs, I think.” He lifted the lid from to find Victoria’s eggs cooked to perfection. He called to her, “Your eggs are ready! Would you like to take them out of the pan, or shall I?

She placed the eggs near the spoons and walked near the stove where Victor stood. “Why don’t you do it and I’ll watch.” She stood smiling sweetly, loving the moment she was in.

“Okay then, I’ll do it. How about you go get a plate? I think I saw some on the table when we came in…” Victor turned down the burner so the eggs wouldn’t become overcooked.

“Oh! Right then,” said Victoria. She headed out the swinging doors and into the dining hall. Cooking is fun, she thought happily. I should do it more often. She took the plate near her place setting and returned to the kitchen, which was slowly filling with the smells of a warm, home-cooked breakfast. She pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and handed Victor the plate. “Here you are,” she said with a smile.

Victor said, “Thanks.” He took the plate from her with thoughts of Please don’t drop it… He slid the flat end of the spatula under the eggs and slipped them onto the plate. He put down the spatula with a triumphant smile. “Here you are! Two eggs, sunny side up. Are you going to eat them now or later?” he asked.

“Well…usually it’s expected I eat with my parents, so I suppose I’ll eat with them. I expect they’ll be waking up soon, so maybe we should make their eggs now.” She clasped her hands nervously. We need to make their breakfast and get Victor out of here as soon as possible, she thought. “So how do you make scrambled eggs?” she asked Victor.

“Well, you crack the eggs into a bowl and mix them up with a fork. Then you dump that into the pan and bake it.” He wordlessly began searching for a bowl as Victoria took a fork from the drawer. Soon both of them were opening and closing cabinets in search of a bowl.

“Found one!” cried Victoria, presenting a yellow bowl with a small floral print encircling the rim. She took it over near the stove and placed it on the counter top. Victor, sensing the possibility of a joint effort, took two eggs and cracked them into the bowl. Victoria mixed them with the fork until they turned into a chalky yellow mixture. Victor tipped the bowl toward the pan, and the eggs slid into the pan with ease, soon making sizzling sounds. Victoria placed the lid on the pan and closed her eyes, content.

A trickle of sweat rolled down Victor’s neck. Should I take her hand? he wondered. Well, there’s no harm in it, and she can cook the eggs if she wants me to leave. But first… He walked over toward a cabinet, much to Victoria’s puzzlement. He pulled out the lid of a serving dish and placed it over Victoria’s plate so her eggs wouldn’t get cold. Then he walked back over to Victoria near the stove. He stuck out his hand, and much to his surprise she took it.

She smiled at him and said, “Victor, I must tell you something.” Victor returned her glance quizzically. “When I was…married…to that horrible Lord Barkis, I only wanted one thing; you.” She blushed, and continued. “I was so saddened when you were supposedly off with some mystery woman. I was afraid at first at the mere prospect of an arranged marriage. But then I met you at the rehearsal for the first time. You can only imagine my joy that you were so kind, and close to my own age. Needless to say, when you disappeared, I was devastated.” With her other hand, she scratched the back of her neck. She let her arm fall to her side and looked up. “Enough of my girlish fancies—”

“I don’t mind them, really. Besides, they aren’t girlish fancies; you speak the truth.” Victor was almost as surprised as Victoria to hear his voice. However, somehow he knew he’d said the right thing when Victoria squeezed his hand and sighed.

“Thank you. I suppose I’ve been told to hold my tongue so many times I’ve developed a habit of killing my end of the conversation. But what of your adventures?” She trailed off, leaving room for the conversation to flourish.

Victor thought for a moment. He checked on the eggs, and then began speaking.” It was incredible, I suppose; a whirlwind of events, so to speak. I left the church to practice my vows, and then just for practice, I slipped the ring onto a stick. The next thing I knew, a corpse rose from the ground and said, ‘I do.’ Then I was whisked off to the Land of the Dead. I found out my ‘wife’ had been killed by none other than Lord Barkis—” Here, Victoria gasped in shock at being married (however briefly) to a murderer. “I missed you so; that’s why I tried come back, but Emily-the corpse bride-took me back down there. Then I needed to be formally wed to her and everyone came up here. Then Emily realized what exactly she was doing to you and I, and said she couldn’t marry me. Of course, you know what’s happened since then.” He smiled, and checked on the eggs again. “They’re ready,” he said.

Victoria left to get another plate, leaving Victor alone with his thoughts. If this is marriage, I don’t mind it, he thought. I wonder how Victoria’s feeling. I guess knowing that comes with experience. Soon enough, Victoria returned with the plate, and Victor took the eggs from the skillet and put them on the plate. Victoria took a serving lid and put it on the plate. Mother and Father are more than likely awake…we need to finish very soon. She reached for the bowl at the same time Victor did, and their hands briefly before they knocked over the bowl and it crashed into thousands of shards of porcelain on the floor.

Chapter Three

2005-11-12T11:27:00.000-05:00

The doorknob wiggled just as they broke their kiss. Both of their hearts skipped a beat as the knob twisted and the lock mechanism gave way to open the door. Victor was surprised he hadn’t heard the creaky stair as these people (assuming there was more than one person) as they climbed the stairs. Then again, he reasoned with himself, you weren’t listening very hard, were you? He smiled in spite of himself and shot a fleeting glance at Victoria.

Victoria had wiped away her tears as soon as she heard noise outside the door. She had risen from the bed and picked up a drawing of a humming bird and held it in her hand, gazing intently. This was how their parents found them.

“Goodness,” said Nell as she walked in without bothering to knock. “We’d begun to worry if you’d died, didn’t we William?” She looked at Victor’s astonished face and frowned. Apparently she’d been expecting a slightly different scene.

“Oh, hello Mrs. Van Dort,” said Victoria happily. “Victor and I decided to come back here on account of the cold.” She noticed her mother and father in the hallway both of them looking dazed and disgusted. Apparently, coming here hadn’t been their idea. “Wouldn’t you agree it was a bit chilly in there, mother?” Mrs. Everglot looked a bit startled from being addressed directly, but recovered.

“Yes,” she said, frowning as always, “it was.” She looked at Victor with contempt before speaking again. “The part’s just ended. It’s time to come home,” she said coldly.

Victoria’s smile lost its truth, and she couldn’t think of a retort. “Goodbye Victor,” she said. “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow.” She put back the drawing and walked out into the hallway.

Nell elbowed her son in the ribs. He rose with inhuman speed and walked quickly to the door. He followed the Everglots and his bride down the stairs, with his father and mother close behind. Just as Mrs. Everglot opened the front door to leave, Victor called to Victoria, “Goodbye Victoria!” with excessive enthusiasm.

She turned around and waved to him, a sad smile on her face. Then she exited and Victor was left in the sitting room with his parents alone again. Seconds after the door closed, his parents hurried over to where he stood and began talking at the same time very loudly.

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, LEAVING YOUR OWN WEDDING RECEPTION?” “Did you talk to her much?” “IT’S BAD LUCK TO LEAVE! WHAT WILL THE NEIGHBORS SAY?” “Shut up woman! You’re killing my ears.”

Victor somehow managed to ignore this. Instead of answering their pointless questions, he merely asked, “When do we leave?”

This rather startled his parents, who stopped arguing mid-sentence, which didn’t happen often in the Van Dort household. His mother composed herself first and asked, “What’re you talking about?” She stared at him, waiting for an answer. “Well?” she asked with impatience.

Victor met her gaze, faltering only a bit. “I asked, when do Victoria and I leave for our honeymoon? Where are we going? Where will we live when we come back? And will we get to choose where we live?” He took a steadying breath. “Victoria and I are married now, yet we’ve been told nothing of our future. Please, tell me,” he pleaded.

This time Mr. Van Dort tried to answer, but his wife beat him to it. “You’re so ungrateful. If you must know, you’ll be leaving tomorrow afternoon, to one of our manors. When you return, we’ll let you and Victoria pick a house you like. If the two of you can’t decide, we’ll pick for you. Happy?”

Victor’s face didn’t change, but on the inside he was smiling from head to toe. Soon Victoria, he thought, soon we’ll be rid of our parents, the drunk, senseless townsfolk…it’ll just be the two of us. While he was angry about his mother’s ‘ungrateful’ remark, he was willing to let it pass.

Tired of waiting for a response, Nell threw up her hands and said, “I’m going to bed.” As she climbed in the stairs, she muttered, “Not looking forward to the hangover, but at least I’ll be numb tomorrow…” She continued to gibber incoherently as she went up the stairs.

Victor’s father winked at him and whispered, “You’ve reeled her in, Victor. Top job.” Then he too headed upstairs to join his wife.

Victor looked in the mirror on the wall and saw something in his face he didn’t recognize. After a minute, it hit him; Victoria’s love for him ran both ways, and he was a better man for it. He smiled, finally truly happy, and headed upstairs for bed. He kissed his wedding ring fondly as Victoria’s image flashed into his mind.

~

Back at the Everglot manor, Victoria wasn’t faring quite as well as Victor had. She and her parents had walked home in silence, with only the crows speaking. The three approached the looming palace and entered. Victoria looked at the piano with fond memories of her first encounter with Victor and sighed. She could feel her parents gathering their thoughts, and she knew their explosion of questions was imminent. Alas, she was right, for just as she thought of that, her mother cleared her throat to speak.

“Victoria,” she said with a disappointed sigh. “Victoria, Victoria, Victoria. What demonic force possessed you to follow Victor home? Ah, ah, ah,” she said as Victoria tried to interrupt her. “You will wait for me to finish. While a punishment is in order, it will have to wait, as you need to pack your things tonight. Your honeymoon begins tomorrow evening, with your departure set in the afternoon, and I will not allow you to further disrespect us by being tardy. Now, up to your room. You need to pack and then get a good night’s sleep.” She turned around and headed upstairs.

Mr. Everglot said plainly, “I have nothing to add.” He motioned for her to follow her mother up the stairs.

Victoria’s mind erupted in anger. I am not a child! she wanted to shout. Just a few hours ago, you two did a fine job of disrespecting our family! And I will not be ordered about like a child. But she didn’t wanted to ruin the prospects of her honeymoon, and thus remained silent.

Reaching the top of the stairs, she entered her uninhabited room. She flicked a tear from her eye; just two days ago her servant (and the closest person she had to a friend) had been to preserve her parents’ ever-shrinking funds. She closed the door behind her and sighed heavily. With some difficulty, she managed to slip out of her wedding dress in a few minutes time. However, unlacing her corset proved to be a task in itself. On her first try, she managed to tighten it, soon sputtering and gasping for air. Fortunately, she managed to grasp a string of the bow and pull it open. She then nearly ripped the rest of the strings off by frantically trying to escape the deathtrap that so many women used daily.

She pulled it off, breathing heavily. Exhausted from the effort, she shoved the corset into a drawer and hung her wedding dress on a hanger. She tenderly put it in her closet. I’ll pack tomorrow morning, she thought, stifling a yawn. She slipped on her sleepwear and submerged herself beneath the covers of her bed. Tomorrow will be better, she thought, twisting the ring that held her future. She thought fondly of her new husband and drifted off to dreamless sleep.

~

The sun rose on the horizon as a new day dawned. Victoria’s dark room was filled with light as the sun poured in from two glass doors leading to a small balcony. Victoria’s face glowed in radiance as the sun met her face. She wrinkled her nose at the early hour and opened her eyes. She looked around her room and sat up in bed. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and recalled the events of the previous day. She thought of her beloved husband, Victor, in all his shyness.

Somehow, she thought, he became quite the romantic for me. She smiled and stood up. She had a lot of packing to do before her parents woke in a few hours. She dressed plainly in a dark blue top and skirt, with an extra shift underneath for warmth. Victoria heaved her traveling bags up from beneath her bed, already eager for her trip to begin.

~
“VICTOR! WAKE UP! IT’S ALREADY NINE AND YOU STILL HAVE TO PACK!” Nell’s voice bounded up the stairs and into Victor’s ears. He crumpled his face and opened his eyes. Sitting up fast, he replied as fast as one can after being woken in such a manner.

“I’m awake, mother,” he said, undressing as fast as possible. He pulled on a decent pair of pants standing up. Victor lost his balance and fell prostrate on his bed. He got up and pulled on a shirt and blazer. He ran a comb through his hair and smiled at his reflection in the mirror. In a matter of hours, he and Victoria would be away from their parents alone. Well, he thought, there might be some servants there, but we can always relieve them of their duties.

He pulled his bags from a closet and heaved them to the floor. He opened his closet to begin packing, but realized he had no idea how long the honeymoon would last. Maybe, he thought, I’ll go have a spot of breakfast and ask Father if he knows. Victor wasn’t particularly close to his father, but he decided that his father wouldn’t insult him just because he didn’t know.

Victor left his room and headed downstairs. His first thought upon entering the kitchen was, oddly enough, that his mother was missing from the table. However, his father sat at the far end of the table, eating slowly. “Good morning,” he said without looking up from his meal.

Victor took a bowl from a cabinet and asked, “Where’s mother?” He took some oatmeal from the box on the table and mixed it with some water in his bowl. He put it on the stove and sat down next to his father.

Victor’s father sighed. “She just left a few minutes ago. Said something about finding a carriage driver for your trip.” He finished his oatmeal and got up to wash the bowl and spoon in the sink. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason. But I do have a question for you; how long will the honeymoon last? I have no idea myself, and I need to know so I’ll know how much to pack.” Victor nervously scratched the back of his neck.

His father looked up and smiled toothily. “Well,” he said putting away the bowl, “I believe your mother said a week. Although I don’t know what you two can do in an old manor in the winter for a week.” He put away the spoon and moved to the door frame that led to the sitting room. “By the way,” he said, startling Victor, “I think your oatmeal’s ready.” He waved Victor goodbye and headed into the sitting room.

Victor glanced at the stove, surprised to find that his father was right. The oatmeal was bubbling impatiently. Victor was oddly reminded of his mother and laughed, imagining her as oatmeal. He took the bowl from the stove with a towel wrapped around his hand to protect himself from the heat of the stove. He placed the bowl on the table and the towel back on its rack. Remembering the stove, he turned off the burner and sighed from exhaustion; the previous day had dragged on for a fair amount of time. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and yawned sleepily.

His stomach growled, eager or food. Victor got a spoon from a drawer and sat down at the table. Victoria entered his mind as he recalled her wave of emotion in his bedroom. A part of him said, I doubt that’ll be the only wave of emotion she will have in a bedroom with you. Embarrassed, Victor’s cheeks colored and he looked around to make sure no one was around. He shook his head and put his spoon in the oatmeal. You can be so paranoid sometimes, you know that? he scolded himself. He tried thinking more appropriate thoughts as he ate the warm oatmeal. He began to consider his father’s question. What will we do in the manor indeed? He then began considering possibilities, from teaching Victoria how to play the piano (if there even was one there) to reading from a book to her in the sun. He grimaced, upset that he and Victoria hadn’t got to spend much time together. And yet, he thought, she worried about me while I was trapped in the Land of the Dead. With this thought, he was contented.

~

Victoria wiped the glistening sweat from her brow after finally getting her last suitcase to close. She sighed with minor fatigue and heard her parents stir in their sleep across the hall. She flattened her skirt to eliminate the wrinkles and left her room for the dining hall, where the table sat, unset. Victoria groaned; all the servants had been let go, the same servants who set the table and cooked breakfast every morning. Shaking her head, she left the dining hall for the kitchen. The curtains were opened to let in some light, and Victoria began searching for bowls and plates.

One cabinet held spices, another teacups. Finally, after many more tries, Victoria came upon the bowls and plates in the last cabinet. She put three of each on the counter and returned to a drawer where she had spotted some spoons and knives. She took them over to the bowls and plates. Being careful not to make excessive noise, she put the bowls on the plates, and the silverware in the bowl on top. Face wrought with worry, she put her hands under the bottom plate and headed toward the dining room. Being mindful of the door, she opened it by backing up into it and then carefully maneuvering around it as it closed fearful it would break the dishes.

Victoria approached the table and put the dished down with care. She sighed in relief and separated everything: one plate, bowl, knife, and spoon fro each setting. She placed them on the placemats and smiled at her effort.

See, retorted her mind to her parents, we can get along without servants. Now…what’s for breakfast? She recalled the pancakes she had barely touched the day before, and her stomach grumbled in withdrawal. Toast and eggs it is, she thought. She gathered the bowls and spoons and returned to the kitchen. She put the bowls and spoons back in their proper places and got out the forks.

Victoria realized that it was quite pitiful that she knew nothing about her kitchen and had been living in the house her whole life. How can I expect to make breakfast for my parents and myself when I don’t even know where a frying pan is? She mulled this over and came upon an idea. Hmm…I’ll need to make sure they stay asleep for another half an hour or so… She smiled at the potential success of this plan, recalling the alcohol they had consumed the previous night and the effect it would have on their eagerness to awaken. She headed to the coat rack, eager to initiate her plan.

Chapter Two

2005-11-10T17:06:00.000-05:00

The couple arrived at the hall a few minutes behind schedule, but the greeting they received upon their arrival was nonetheless unforeseen. Everyone in the hall had burst into cheers when Victoria and Victor arrived, arms linked. Shredded paper was thrown in the air in large quantities, most of it landing on the newlyweds.

“Come,” said Mrs. Everglot, “Let the feast begin.” What a feast it was; the Van Dorts had gone all out for their son and daughter-in-law. Turkey lined the tables, along with a variety of salads and vegetables. Fine china decorated the tables, each place setting identical to the others. Mrs. Van Dort steered Victoria and Victor to a table in the front of the hall with two place settings. Then she returned to her seat.

Victor frowned. “I don’t quite like being on display like this, but I guess we have no choice in the matter.” He glanced at the other tables, noticing that all of the seats were filled. Victoria nodded as Victor pulled out her chair for her.

She sat down, wary of her skirts and said, “Thank you, Mr. Van Dort!” She looked at him and smiled.

He returned to his chair. “You’re quite welcome, Mrs. Van Dort.” He sat down and mirrored her smile.

A small bell was rung to attain silence and attention. Mr. Everglot rose from his seat at the far end of one of the dining tables. He raised his glass in the direction of his daughter and said, “A toast: to the newlyweds—” Here, Victor was reminded of the dead dwarf general in the Land of the Dead and was overcome by a severe case of the giggles, which rather intruded upon Mr. Everglot’s toast.

“—may they have eternal joy and fortu—luck,” he said, speaking louder as his face turned an impressive shade of red at Victor’s insolent giggling and his own mistake. Everyone in attendance raised their glasses as well, not offering any additional toasts.

After conversation resumed, Victor and Victoria began eating. Neither was very people friendly, and they didn’t fancy being the center of attention. Victor began his meal, eager for the party to be over. He cleared his throat. “W-w-where would you like to go once this is over? Assuming we can, g-go somewhere…” Victor had surprised himself by asking his bride that question. Normally he was shy, but the marriage had given both of them a sense of freedom.

“Well,” said Victoria, “I suppose that since we haven’t been told about any future plans, perhaps we could go to the park.” She took a bite of salad and looked up at Victor as he mused over his answer.

Victor recalled his memories of playing fetch with his deceased dog, Scraps; they would often visit the park, Victor throwing stick after stick until dark. He was interested in creating some new memories there as well as honoring the old. “I’d like that,” he said. “Shall we meet there around five or so?” He had no way of knowing if they would be expected elsewhere, but he really liked the direction things were taking.

Victoria smiled. “That would be lovely,” she said. “How about meeting on the bench under the willow tree?”

Victor broke into a broad grin. Something had finally gone right for a change. He was meeting with his new wife in a few hours in a spot of existing memories. “That sounds perfect.”

They raised their glasses and bumped them together lightly enough to make a soft clink. "Cheers,” they said in unison, both smiling and thinking of the other.

Suddenly, everyone began hitting their glasses with silverware. Not knowing what this meant, having just been introduced to marriages and receptions, Victor and Victoria looked confusedly at each other. Victor looked to his father, who mouthed Kiss her! several times for emphasis. Victor turned to face Victoria.

“Victoria,” he said over the echoing clangs, “I believe that means that we’re supposed to…erm…kiss now.”

A look of astonishment crossed Victoria’s face. “That is so…” She searched for the correct word and found it. “Vulgar! But I suppose I’ll do it if you will.”

In response, Victor leaned to kiss her just as she laced her fingers between his under the tablecloth. He gave her a quick peck to silence the noise. The guests watched and then returned to their meals.

A few minutes passed as the couple finished their meal and exchanged pleasantries. Soon thetables were cleared and cake was served. Although both Victor and Victoria declined shoving cake in the other’s face, those in attendance still enjoyed the consumption of their own cake.

The small bell was rung once more Everyone turned to see what would happen next. The sound originated not from Mr. Everglot, but from Nell, Victor’s mother. “All right everyone,” she said in her scratchy yet oddly booming voice, “it’s time for the first dance for the newlyweds.” She smiled as Victor and Victoria were pushed toward the front of the circle the guests had formed around Nell. Victor and Victoria nervously looked at each other.

Nell backed away and everyone sat down as music began playing. A man was playing a piano in the rear of the hall for Victor and his bride. Uncertainly, Victor took Victoria’s hand and placed his other hand around her waist as she mimicked him. They listened to the music as it wafted into their ears. Tentatively, they began to waltz to the strange music. Captivated, Victor allowed Victoria to spin around gracefully just as other couples joined them on the dance floor. Victor remembered Emily, the Corpse Bride, dancing gracefully in an alley in the Land of the Dead and shook his head to rid himself of the memory.

Suddenly, the dance floor was filled with the swishing sounds of skirts being twirled and the music from the piano. However, the song soon ended and the music stopped.

Out of nowhere came the blare of trumpets and guitars, and a livelier tune was struck. The reception hall had given way to the bar it truly was as more couples, most of which were drunk. They stepped onto the dance floor to prove their dance skills to anyone who cared enough to watch. Dismayed, Victor and Victoria retreated to a corner in the back of the hall near the door.
They sat down, happy to be out of the limelight for a change. The couple began to converse quietly as their parents whirled around the dance floor in a drunken stupor. Even Victoria’s parents had joined in on the festivities, surely not of their own accord, but perhaps from some sprites.

As her mother nearly fell over, Victoria whispered in Victor’s ear. “I might suggest that we take our leave soon,” she said. She glanced at the door, noting that no one was within several feet of it.

“That’s a…a capital idea,” said Victor as the town crier began swiveling in circles. “Shall we leave unannounced?” He didn’t know the protocol for leaving his wedding reception.

“Well, I imagine we would,” said Victoria, speaking faster. “If we would ask, I rather think we would be forever frowned upon. If we are to go I would suggest leaving now.” She looked to him, and he nodded a silent reply.

They rose together, unnoticed, and walked toward the door. Their only problem occurred when a drunk partygoer asked, “Where you goin’?” as they made for the door.

Victor responded with, “Ah we’d be leaving. Best wishes to the newlyweds.” Luckily, this man didn’t notice that it was the newlyweds who were leaving and he returned to singing loudly.

Victoria took Victor’s hand once they were outside. It had gotten dark by now and a little colder. Even in her floor length wedding dress, Victoria could feel the chill. The two trudged through some fallen leaves toward the park. They found a vacant bench with ease; for everyone was at the party and the park was lousy with emptiness. Victor noticed the fog his breath had made and shivered. Winter was coming.

Victoria took his hand again. “This seemed like a good idea when the sun was still out…perhaps we should go to a house.” She shivered as Victor rose.

“That sounds good; would you like to come to my house?” While the thought of sitting in an empty house with his bride scared him a little, Victor was convinced that anything was better than the cold.

Victoria rose and smiled. “That sounds like a good plan to me,” she said. She held out her arm. “Shall we?”

Victor linked arms with her in reply as they walked to Victor’s home in the pitch black streets.

~

Victor and Victoria approached Victor’s home as the stars began to twinkle in to existence in the night sky. Victor fumbled in his pocket for his house key. Finally he found it, just short of considering returning to the party to get the spare key from his father. He nervously placed it into the lock and turned the knob.

Victoria gasped; the house was so homely, so unlike her own. She recalled the dark emptiness of the Everglot manner, the dozen or so paintings of her ancestors lining hallways. She then looked closer at Victor’s home. It was smaller than she had expected, but it was charming all the same. Knick knacks littered the walls and tables; doilies, old photos, dried flowers, and so many more.

Victor noticed her lapse of speech. Concerned, he asked, “What? What is it; is something wrong?”

Victoria shook her head slowly. “No, nothing’s wrong, it’s just that…well, your house is a lot, well friendlier. My home depresses me, and this house emits rays of cheer and happiness.” She turned to better view a framed sketch of a drooping rose. “This is beautiful,” she said with awe. “The details are flawless; who has drawn this masterpiece?”

Victor blushed and looked at his feet. “I did,” he mumbled. He wasn’t used to praise for his artwork. Just the opposite, usually his parents scolded him for not paying attention to the ‘real’ world when he would lose himself in a piece.

She walked slowly back over to him and leaned over. She looked up into his face from her hunched position. “Victor,” she said breathlessly, “that is remarkable!”
Victor looked up at her in surprise. “You really think so?” he asked. He had never given much thought to his art skills; they had merely been an escape from his daily prison of his parents.

“I’ve got some more. Would…would you like to see them?” he asked uncertainly. He didn’t think that Victoria and he would have much in common, seeing as how she had been forbidden from learning music. This certainly was a pleasant discovery for the both of them.

She clasped her hands in joy. “I would very much like that, Victor,” she said, smiling innocently.

He motioned to the stairs and began climbing them. He stopped to say, “I keep the rest of them up in my room,” before resuming the ascent once more. Victoria picked up the front of her dress and followed him. Victor reached the top and made a left. Victoria quickened her pace and trailed behind him, drinking in everything. Victor looked in her direction and managed a nervous smile. This was his first time taking any girl into his room ever. He took a breath and opened the door. He stepped inside and waited for her.

She entered cautiously, for she could sense his nervous attitude. She looked around and thought in silence. Some would say his room was a bit on the girly side but Victoria disagreed. She thought the sensitivity was fitting for her groom. His walls had a few items on them: a photo of him as a young boy with his deceased dog, Scraps, and at least a dozen drawings. They were of every subject; butterflies, scenes from outside his windows, people, everything.

Still looking at a particularly well shaded sketch of his mother, Victoria said, “Oh Victor…you have so many talents. You could put all other men to shame in an instant.”
Victor’s cheeks colored. “Stop,” he said with a smile in his voice, “you’re carrying on.”

“No, really,” she said, struggling to make her point. “I’m serious. I don’t know why my parents—well, I don’t know why they don’t like you.” She looked at him and immediately knew something was a foul.

He had positioned himself directly in front of his desk, which was littered with parchment. However, she noticed one piece in particular he was trying to hide. “Victor,” she asked curiously, “what are you hiding?” She giggled as she walked toward him. He tried to inconspicuously take the parchment from the desk, but under Victoria’s gaze failed.
She tried looking behind him, but he took the paper and ran to a corner of the room. “No,” he said, shaking his head, “you can’t see it yet. It’s not finished.”

“Okay,” she said laughing at the hilarity of the situation. “Now you’ve sparked my interest. What’s on that piece of parchment?” She reached for his hand and put it in hers. “You know I’ll like it, however it looks,” she said softly, for she had an idea of what it was at this point.

“All right,” said Victor, realizing that resistance was futile. “Don’t laugh though. I did it…last night.” He handed her the paper, which was a bit crumpled by now. “I couldn’t sleep a wink,” he said as she opened it. “Your face just kept popping into my head,” he said tenderly.

Her gaze wandered from his face to the paper. Suddenly she was very conscious of his arm, which was wrapped affectionately around her waist as they looked at the picture together. It was a stunningly beautiful portrait of Victoria. She was sitting in her wedding dress, with a rose tucked behind her ear, smiling at something outside of the portrait. Oddly enough, the picture’s gaze landed on Victor.

For a minute, Victoria just stood there, expressionless. Victor took back his arm and strangled his tie. He had no way of knowing what his bride was thinking, and it was making him sick with worry. But he needn’t worry much longer, for Victoria looked up with tears in her eyes. Her eyes told a thousand stories of love, of appreciation, but most of all, of completion. “Victor,” she said with a sniff, “no one’s ever done anything like this for me. Thank you!”

Suddenly Victor became aware that even when she was crying, his bride was beautiful. Her teardrops hung on her eyelashes like so many diamonds. Go on, said a voice inside him, she’s your bride. He wrinkled his eyebrows, concerned that this wasn’t the time or place, but denied the feeling and took Victoria’s hand. He led her away from the corner, and the both of them sat on Victor’s bed. He took the drawing from her and put it on his dresser. He watched as her tears spotted her dainty hands like raindrops. He took her face in her hands.

“I love you,” he whispered. Before she could respond, his lips had found hers and she had ceased crying. The couple sat kissing on Victor’s bed just as the moon rose to bathe them in its pale light.

Chapter One

2005-11-10T14:36:00.000-05:00

Victor stared nervously at the church door, waiting for the arrival of his bride to be, Victoria. He scanned the guests seated in the church pews. He saw his mother, who smiled at him, tears of joy in her eyes. This was the day that Victor was to be married. His father beamed with pride. For although Victor’s was an arranged marriage, he was very much in love with his bride.

As if on cue, his thoughts strayed to the last few days. The events had unfolded so quickly, his head spun trying to remember everything. He remembered practicing his vows in the forest just outside of town, placing a ring on a stick poking out of the ground, which was really a corpse’s exposed digit! He thought of the Corpse Bride, Emily, whom he had been married to briefly. She had been appalled upon discovering that her ‘true love’ was to be wed to Victoria, whom she had called ‘Little Miss Living.’

He remembered the hurt in her eyes after they had traveled back to the living world from the afterlife. He was ashamed of himself for lying to her; he had said how wanted to show her his parents when, in truth, he had gone back for Victoria. He remembered when they returned, how Emily had discovered death had already parted them and that in order for her to be married to victor, he had to die for her. He recalled the ceremony, her acknowledgement of Victoria. Then there was Victoria’s brief marriage to Lord Barkis, who had killed Emily! He remembered the cold look in Barkis’s eyes when he asked Emily, “Can a heart still break after its stopped beating?” Then Barkis had drunk poison and died. Then Emily had said she had been set free, then turning into hundreds of butterflies. He smiled, knowing that now she could rest in peace.

His attention returned to searching for Victoria, who had still not arrived. He turned to view the rear of the church, and there he saw her in all of her beauty. Her blond hair was pinned on top of her head in a bun. He blushed and looked at her body. She was wearing a marvelous white wedding dress, trimmed in lace from neckline to the floor. Her face radiated a sunny glow, instead of its normal pale white complexion. She turned her head in Victor’s direction and smiled.

Victor blushed again and mouthed, You look like an angel. Now it was Victoria’s turn to blush, but before she could reply, she was whisked away by her mother, who wore a permanent scowl. She shot Victor a look that said, She’s only marrying you because I know you have money. While this would normally cause Victor to become nervous, today he smiled at her. After the last few days, he learned that life is short, and if you don’t tell someone how you feel, they’ll never know. He had changed so much over the past week. Even his nervous traits, such as dropping things and stuttering had lessened in occurrence.

“Victor,” said Pastor Galswells, “the ceremony is to begin soon.”

“O-o-okay,” Victor said. So much for abated nervous traits.

Victor walked to the back of the church, eager for the ceremony to begin.

~

Victoria inhaled, but couldn’t get as much air into her lungs as usual, due to the backbreaking tightness of her corset. She leaned to the left to get a better view of her future husband, only to be shoved back to her original position by her mother.

“This is a wedding, not a sideshow display at a carnival,” hissed Mrs. Everglot in Victoria’s ear. “No child of mine will be caught gawking at someone like they’re a freak on display on her wedding day, even if he is a freak,” the last part whispered almost inaudibly.

Victoria sighed. Her mother would think it would be that of regret for moving, but it was a sigh of contentment. She had seen her future husband, and he looked simply ravishing. His usual black ensemble was replaced with a white tuxedo. His shirt pocket held a single red rose. Not one black hair was out of place.

Something was whispered at the front of the throng of people in the rear of the church. Suddenly, Victor’s best man, a cousin from a nearby town, walked down the aisle, arm linked with Victoria’s maid of honor, a distant relative of Victoria’s mother, whom Victoria had no voice in choosing. As they reached the altar, they separated on to separate ends. Next came the ring bearer, a small boy from the town. Now came the nerve-racking part for Victoria.

Music erupted from the church’s organ, signifying the bride. The flower girl, a child no older than four, walked down the aisle of the church throwing flower petals everywhere. Ready or not, here comes the bride, thought Victoria.

She began walking down the aisle with her father, a pudgy old bald man. Everyone stood up in their pews and turned around to get a better look at the bride. Victoria managed a weak smile, contrast to her father’s neutral frown. As they walked down the aisle, the people they passed turned around. After what seemed like an eternity, they reached the altar.

“Who gives this woman to this man?” asked Pastor Galswells.

“Her father,” said Mr. Everglot. He turned to face Victoria. She smiled at him, and he lifted her veil from her face, letting it fall behind her, connected at the base of the bun in her hair. Before she could say anything, he left and returned to his seat next to her mother.

Victoria frowned but knew her father was just overwhelmed with emotion; that was why he didn’t say anything to her. She walked onto the altar, meeting Victor’s smile with one of her own. She stood between him and her maid of honor as the ceremony began.

The ceremony passed without hesitation until it came time for the vows. Victor had managed to perfect his vows, or so he thought. Regardless of whether or not he did, the wedding would go on.

Victor cleared his throat. “With this hand, I will l-l-lift your sorrows.”
Victoria stared lovingly into his eyes. She repeated, “With this hand I will lift your sorrows.”

The two took a few steps toward the table. Victor nearly stumbled, but Victoria steadied him by holding onto his arm. Once she let go, he opened the bottle of wind. While pouring it into her cup, he recited, “Your cup will never empty for I shall be your wine.” He put the bottle back on the table.

Victoria picked up the bottle and poured wine into Victor’s cup. “Your cup will never empty, for I shall be your wine.” She placed the bottle back on the table and closed it.

Each of them took a small candlestick from the table and lit them from a small tea candle that had already been lit. As they moved their candles toward their marriage candle they said in unison, “With this candle, I will light your way in darkness.” The fire caught, and they put their lit candles in holders to the left and right of their marriage candle.

“The rings, please,” said Pastor Galswells to the ring bearer. The small boy clumsily stepped onto the altar and thrust out the pillow with the rings on it. Victor took Victoria’s ring, while Victoria took Victor’s ring. Job complete, the boy returned to his spot.

Victor turned to face Victoria. He looked into her eyes and saw a happiness that he’d never seen before. He placed her ring between his finger and his thumb. “With this ring,” he said, slipping it onto her ring finger tenderly, “I do thee wed.”
Victoria looked into Victor’s eyes with love; his eyes reflected hers. She took back her hand, looked at the ring and smiled. She placed his ring between her finger and her thumb. Eyes shining, she said, “With this ring, I do thee wed.” she slipped the ring onto Victor’s finger and took his hand in hers, much to her mother’s dismay.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” said Pastor Galswells in a bored voice. “You may kiss the bride.”

Victor hadn’t prepared for this part; he had just sort of hoped nature would take its course. That seemed to work well enough, for he put his hands under Victoria’s chin. Victoria took things from there. She put her arms around Victor’s neck and leaned in. Their lips met, and the church hall exploded in applause. After all the setbacks, they were finally married.

<3

After a few seconds, the couple separated. They linked hands, and Victoria held her bouquet in her other hand. They walked down the aisle, blushing and smiling. Everyone in the pews was either standing or crying from joy. Everyone, that is, except the Everglots. They had remained seated throughout the entire ceremony, even the end. If anything, they looked more miserable now than they did in the beginning of the wedding. Amidst the cheers, Mr. Everglot, whose name was Finnis, said to his wife, “This peasant boy will be the end of us.”

“I agree,” said Mrs. Everglot, whose name was Maudeline. “The only benefit to this marriage is the money that comes with it.”

Meanwhile, the newlyweds went outside, greeted by the glow of the afternoon sun. After throwing the bouquet to some excited young girls, Victoria sought out Victor’s mother.

“Mrs. Van Dort, where are Victor and I to go now?” Victoria asked.
“Well, you two should head over to the reception hall in about ten minutes…” Here Mrs. Van Dort winked at Victoria.

“No, no, I mean, well…” Victoria blushed slightly. “Now that we are married, what will happen next?” You see, Victoria had only just met Victor a few days previously. She knew nothing of their futures, which had become intertwined.

“Well,” said Mrs. Van Dort, looking thoughtful, “I suppose you two will go on a honeymoon for a month or so, possibly in one of our manors…” Mrs. Van Dort walked away, plotting and planning the honeymoon, which had been overlooked somehow.

Victoria shrugged and began searching for Victor, who had remained sitting on the chapel’s steps. She would cross the bridge of a honeymoon when it presented itself. “Ah, there you are,” she said upon her return to the church stairs.
“Victoria,” whispered Victor. “We are married.”

She sat down next to him. “I know, Victor dear.” She took his hand and held it in her lap. His cheeks turned pink at Victoria’s gesture. “It’s okay,” she said, stroking his cheek with her free hand. “I’m yours now.”

He continued blushing with vigor. “In the ceremony, the k-k-k- it was—”

“Magical,” she finished for him. “I look forward…to many more.” She let go of his hand, and they embraced, her cheeks matching Victor’s in color. Today was a very emotional day.

Unwillingly, it was Victor who broke their warm embrace. He asked her, “What are we to do now?”

Rather than teasing him like his mother had to done to Victoria, she merely said, “We’re to go to the reception hall I believe; I expect everyone else is there already.” She looked around the grounds. “Would you know where that is?”
Victor rose from the steps where they were seated and provided Victoria a sturdy helping hand getting up. “Yes. It’s down the road from here, but it’s shorter to go through…the forest,” he said, recalling that his last excursion in the forest hadn’t ended particularly well.

Victoria noticed Victor’s discontent. She looked at his face and asked, “Which way is better for you to take? I don’t mind the longer walk…”

“Are you sure?” he asked. He was thankful for Victoria’s straightforward nature, or at least her ability of knowing what he was thinking without asking.
“Yes, it’s fine,” she said with a smile. She linked arms with her new husband and said, “Let’s go!”

Now I know I'm crazy

2005-11-06T14:41:00.000-05:00

Yes. I am crazy. I know this now because I just got a better idea for a story, and chucked my 447 word piece of crap that I was working on before. Now I have an 867 word piece of fanfic based on the events after the end of the movie Tim Burton's Corpse Bride. *sighs*

If you're wondering, I'm saving my novel as a draft until the end of the month so no one steals my plot. Maybe later I'll post an excerpt. But not now though.

I'm writing my novel in a notebook first. My wrist hurts like 2465432165. Back to the grind.

<3

Lauren

Happy NaNo!

2005-11-01T08:33:00.000-05:00

Well folks it's day one of NaNoWriMo. I can already tell this isn't going to be easy when I see someone's already written 2500 words and I have zippo because I'm sick/brain dead. I went to bed early for once last night yet I wake up sick with sore ears, throat, and head! Whatever. I will write something anyway. Although it might not be very good...

Welcome to the Insanity!

2005-10-30T21:15:00.000-05:00

Hello soon to be faithful readers! Meet me, the young teen who's new goal for November is to compose a 50,000 word novel (well it's technically a novella but who's counting?). I live in the middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania. I'm going to be balancing school, band, Drama, Enrichment, and composing my novel for the next month. If I fail to write the 50k words, I'll just keep going until I'm happy with my novel, whose plot is currently a white canvas. Feel free to leave positive comments. Please wait until I'm out of the 'Ha ha, lack of sleep makes me crazy must finish this novel and my history homework before tomorrow' stage before critizing my work though.

If you're unfamiliar with NaNoWriMo, feel free to click the link in the right sidebar to learn more. See you on November 1st!

~Lauren