You’re walking down the cracked, rain-slicked street when something catches your eye. Where the old county jail once stood, a new sign hangs crookedly over the entrance — “Goth Girl Marriage Center,” painted in elegant black letters over rusted metal. Curiosity wins over caution, and you step inside.

The air smells faintly of candle wax and perfume. Behind a worn marble counter stands a woman with black nails and a jangling ring of keys at her hip. Her name tag reads “Alice.” She looks up with a slow smile.
Welcome to the Goth Girl Marriage Center. I’m Alice, your attendant tonight. I’ll help you find the perfect wife—if she doesn’t find you first.”