Wedding Day

It’s a wedding day! Bells chiming, flowers blooming, people mingling out and about, castle-like cake, and so much more. The color white is often associated with purity and innocence in Western culture and in this circumstance, it symbolizes new beginnings and the unity of two harmonious people. Everyone knows this. People fall in love, one proposes, then they get married and usually stay till death do them part. But what if one of them does not see their wedding night? What if one of them is unable to see their beloved after the ceremony?

That would be unprecedented for most people, but not one that’s already experienced it.

The man, covered in soot and dust, wandered around the room that seemed much too big for a house. It looked to be a laboratory of some sorts full of chemicals, tools, bones, and most importantly, lab benches. While it looked professional in specific aspects, it was clearly not ideal for a man to be roaming like a madman. His shirt wrinkled and greying added to the appeal, if his messy dark hair didn’t already do so.

He scurried over to one of the lab benches and cradled a switch in his hands. His dark, tired eyes seemed to be unfocused for a moment. Shortly, he wandered to the big table in the middle of the room covered in a large fabric. It bundled together in certain places and rose in others. He grasped onto the fabric and carefully shifted it off of the table with a huff.

On the table lies a woman with skin so pale she could blend in with the snow outside. Her head was adorned with brown hair, the lashes fit perfectly on her perfect face. The most surprising part about her was her clothing. She adorned a white wedding gown with a fitted corset that shielded her away from any prying eyes. The only thing that contrasted against her perfect form was a gash on her waist, so small it seemed to come from a bullet. Despite all of the messy equipment and dust flying all around the room, she was the only thing that seemed too pure for this horrid place. If anyone were to see her, deeming her “alive" would be an overstatement.

Ever so slightly, the man leaned over to gaze at her faded face. She seemed so beautiful despite not speaking a word nor opening her eyes, it almost made him go into a trance. 

“My dear, my beloved, my life... it is truly such a shame that death claimed you so soon.” He spoke fondly and elegantly, a man that would be a renowned businessman in this day and age.

“It breaks my heart to see you so pale and dull. I only wished to protect you from those monsters outside, but I.. could not...” The man choked on his words as he fought off the tears that struggled to overcome him. He took a deep breath and glanced down at the switch in his hands.

“But do not worry! Your husband, Victor, will bring you back to me.”

His knuckles flexed upon the metal before he pulled the switch without another thought. Lightning, static, electricity all came hailing down from the bulbs above the ceiling all the way down to the forever sleeping woman. A loud booming noise echoed through the room, and all of the voltage shot down and enveloped her in a coated thunder. Seconds, minutes passed by until he finally turned off the switch to take a look at his love.

Her eyes remained tight, the bones tug inside her skin, and she seemed to have gotten even paler afterwards. The only thing that was different is her hair standing up from all of the static overwhelming her. Victor, the madman, the scientist, let out a grunt of frustration as he tossed over the switch to a bench. That switch was the least of his worries after what he attempted.

“No! It was supposed to work, I did everything perfectly!” He fumed and huffed and groaned out his sorrows to calm his overcrowded mind, but it was to no avail. 

“This is the third time… Why does death hate me so? Why must it take you not even a full day after walking down the aisle?”

He clawed at his hair in exasperation, aiming to tear his hair off to find some sort of relief. Three times of electrocution swarming her body, yet not one single success. Not even a twitch of her finger. It was getting too much to deal with that even the police started getting suspicious. All he wanted from his dreaded world was his wife, his other half that was stolen from him unrightfully so. Would it truly be so bad if he was reunited with the one he aimed to spend his life and afterlife with?

“Ah, perhaps there wasn’t enough voltage. Or! Perhaps the chemicals I used were insufficient. I must find out.” He was practically screaming inside to find the answer. The widower stopped kneading his hair and looked over at the woman once again, his face fading at the sight of the strands prickling upwards.

“Oh! Your hair, I apologize, my love.”

It would be unfit for a woman to have such dreaded locks, and he knew that she would’ve hated it. To compensate for the problem, Victor walked over to one of the benches and grabbed a brush from it. He then wandered back towards the table with a loving expression on his face as he slowly shifted his hands over her. She was so beautiful, so alluring that being within arms’ reach felt improper. How much better it would have been if she gazed back into his soul the way he did with her. 

A gentle touch embraced her, cradling her against a beating heart while hers remained immobile. It was as if she were a fragile vase to be placed away from any atrocity on the highest of shelves. He gazed down at her lifeless expression, his eyes roamed over her fitted nose, the dark moles that lived on her flesh, her lips that once sung to children and kissed his cheeks. No! It is improper to stare at a woman for so very long, even if she was his wife. With a slight huff, he tore his eyes away sharply and began to fix the standing strands on her head.

“Worry not, my love. I will never stop trying until those beautiful eyes of yours look back at me.”

His hand wandered upwards to cradle her numb face. Skin that was once so warm and soft felt cold and uninviting near his fingers. How he longed for her arms to wrap around him again, but alas, beggars cannot be choosers.

...

Fourth times’ the charm, they say. Nothing like a dazzling morning to get one started for the day. People greeted and charmed each other’s heads off like they were neighbors, children strayed over and through the streets and sidewalks without a care in the world, and Victor –on the other hand– walked with a foul stench leeched onto him. Even the rats emerging from the sewers shuddered at the smell. 

He strutted his feet with his head held high despite all of the disgusted glances from other people. Though, if one actually used their nose properly, they would find that the smell is not him exactly, it comes from the bag he carries. A man like him wouldn’t spend a day being foul-scented, but his possessions and affections are a different story.

He knew that people would moan and gripe about him. They always do. They have nothing exciting going on in their pathetic, boring lives so they must try to ruin someone else’s with silly rumors. It is the sad cycle of being in a social circle.

A man covered in blue and black approached Victor with a badge in hand, masking his true devil-like self. It almost made the widower shriek of pure horror. Who does this beast think he is to waddle up to him without notice? Does he have no shame?

Though, it is merely Victor’s grudges clouding his judgment.

“Excuse me, sir? Please stop for a moment.” The man requested as he placed his hands on his belt.

Victor didn’t obey nor even think about it. In fact, he did the opposite. His legs moved him faster to escape the mysterious man’s sight. He didn’t get far, however, since the man caught up to him and lightly grabbed his shoulder. That grip was the equivalent of a cobra’s fangs digging into his spine.

“Mr. Blanche, please stop for a moment.” There wasn’t much else he could do, so Victor simply turned around and gave a broad smile. That smile of his contained only irritation and annoyance. He had work to do, allowing someone to distract him would waste his time.

“Officer, how can I be of assistance?” Victor’s voice strained throughout his throat.

“We’ve heard more complaints about the noise coming from your place.”

“Again? Those people have no right to complain!” The widower waved his hand dismissively at the bag.

“If this continues, we’ll have to take extreme measures.” The officer asked while crossing his arms.

"Curse it all, those filthy nobles who want to do nothing but prod and poke at my grieving heart." Victor bit his lip before giving a stiff nod towards the other man. He didn’t even bid him farewell; he just turned around and walked away swiftly to finally be rid of that officer.

Victor wandered all the way past the loads of people grimacing at him without a care in the world. Who cares if a few people find him foul or vile? He’s only interested in the opinions of one person, the woman who lays on the lab table.

The moment he got home, he went straight to work. He put on a plain lab coat and then quickly ran over to the laboratory. Victor let out a breath of air as he emptied out the pieces inside. The disgusted looks of people weren’t unjustified, but the smell was for good reason. From the bag there were vials of chemicals, bones from houses, and numerous notebooks full of formulas and scientific methods for voltages.

He flipped through the notebooks to find the correct page, the one that held all the answers to bringing back the dead. His fingers twitched as he nearly ripped the pages from its spine. Then, he finally found it. Victor’s eyes glimmered with hope as he teared out the page from the bundle.

“Here it is! The key to it all! The answer was right under my nose.”

Victor placed a pin over the paper on the billboard nearby and stared at it for a moment, grinning widely with pure joy. He’d never been this happy before he met his beloved for the first time. How majestic she was when she asked him for shelf assistance in the grocery store.

After staring, he roamed over to the cloaked table and ripped the fabric off once more. Again, his eyes met her palling face, but he forced himself to stay focused. Now is not the time to get distracted. He placed the bones all around her body and climbed up a ladder to insert the chemicals into the machine above her. A madman, he is, but it is all for the right causes.

Slowly, he lowered himself from the ladder and stared at the lifeless woman on the table. Even when she’s immobile, she still has a way to enchant him with just her presence.

“Perhaps enhancing the voltage would do the job. Only you will tell me, my love.”

This time, the lever was against the wall instead of handheld. He walked over to the lever and... hesitated. A fourth time of challenging her with the electricity after three failed attempts, would it really succeed now? No matter how smart or brilliant he is, he may not achieve his goal after all his struggles.

"No! This will bring her back, I’m sure of it!" Though, his thoughts were losing more and more faith in his abilities.

He swallowed his doubts and placed a hand on the lever. The metal felt cold and unappealing for his skin, like the shocks were going to him instead of through the machine. Whether the volts help her or not, today is a prosperous day. However, before he could even think of pulling the lever, deafening bangs struck through the door leading to the outside.

His arms stiffened immediately. The legs that held him so highly threatened to bring him down now, and the heart that beats inside his rib cage nearly stopped to let him join his wife. Victor could barely compose himself until another bang pounded against the door, this one louder and thunderous. Slowly, he lowered his arms and braced himself for any sudden impact.

“Police! We have evidence to believe there is illegal activity, open the door!”

It was not a prosperous day, it was a dreadful one. His time in hiding peacefully and trying to bring his wife back to life has come to an end. Sure, it was unprecedented and illegal to the public eye, but it was for good effective purposes! This could change the world if done correctly!

A third time the bangs echoed throughout the laboratory and caused an earsplitting quake to his chest. Victor instinctively shifted towards the deceased woman to shield her from any potential prying eyes. No man but her should have the privilege of looking at her.

“Open the door! We will not ask again!” That voice belonged to a beast covered in heavy gear.

Time was running out quicker than he could think of his missus. Hesitation was not viable in this situation, only acting and confidence would save him now. Victor looked down at his wife on the table, not a single brow twitch despite all of his hope.

“I apologize, my love. This time, I will protect you.”

The man leaned down and cradled her limp body in his arms, the gown nearly covering the both of them. He would’ve loved the feeling of him embracing her if there wasn’t a creature of bloodthirst outside the door. Now is the time to conduct himself.

Once the door shattered off its hinges, Victor was already sprinting out of the door with his lady in hand. He ran over to the front door but his heart dreaded the sight before him. More police, practically five or more trucks. The entire house is trapped in the beasts’ grips like a fly in a spider web. Going outside would be a death sentence. He swallowed again then dashed up the stairs, the claw-like footsteps drawing closer and closer to him.

His back slammed into the door to swing it open, allowing crisp, fresh air to enter his nostrils. The snowy particles bled into his skin as he rushed over to the railing. Dropping down would also do no good, but there were no other notions he could’ve done except come up to the roof. Not ideal, yet he can still make it work.

Victor’s eyes gazed down at the body in his arms, enamored with her beauty even when she couldn’t lift a finger. It pained him to see her in such a state and he knew that she’d disapprove of the situation he was in.

“Again, I apologize, darling. I fear that I cannot bring you back.” While his speech was firm, his words were beginning to fail him. His cheeks became wet with frustration at himself for not doing better, for not being a better husband. Every day, his soul was in agony for the tragedy of their wedding day.

He tried his best to battle the tears and keep his dignity, but it was impossible to do when all he wanted to do was have a happy marriage.

“It’s quite alright, dear.” 

That sound... was so familiar. So home-like that ignoring it would be a crime. It was as if a lady was singing an opera only fit for a private audience. Could his mind be playing tricks on him? Has he truly turned into a mad man?

Victor turned around so fast his neck nearly broke off. His eyes must have deceived him, because there was a lady in front of him. A woman so beautiful, so breathtaking it overwhelmed him. The brown strands of hair swam through the wind and enhanced her delicate form. Her appearance felt like being in the presence of a divine creature, it must be too good to be true. To Victor, however, his pupils dilated deeply, this woman is the one he’d been reaching out for.

“Amelie...?” Hearing that name felt foreign on his tongue after so long.

Him speaking earned a smile on her soft face, making her cheekbones rise ever so slightly.

“Yes, it is me. You’ve been in despair for far too long, it wounds my soul.” She shook her head in guilt, her eyes never leaving his saddened face.

“But my dear, I’ve been trying to help you!”

“I know, but it must come to an end.”

An end without her would be blasphemous, a fate that should never even enter into his mind.

“Amelie-!”

“I love you dearly, Victor. Please do not be mad in your life.” Her voice was too much to bear. He loved it, but hearing her plead was torture.

“... I will join you, my darling.”

Victor kneeled down and placed her deceased body onto the concrete before standing up straight again. Her smile guided him forward, all thought left his mind as every step brought him closer to her. His feet felt light once she was in reach, and he slowly covered her in his cooling embrace after so long, but now together at last.