The ground vibrates with a steady thump rhythm similar to a beat to a heart as the sky swirled in a crimson mist. Mountain sized flesh like walls built across the realm showing the signs of the flesh born heritage from its master.

In the middle stood a gothic chapel towering out from the oceans of red. The heart of the realm as Zombiefied thralls went slowly about tending to their duties with a mindless haze. They had sought great power through summoning the Gore Bride. However none had no love to fully give her, all power games that ended in their enthrallment to their spurred mistress.

Inside the inner sanctuary, at a altar the bride slowly traced a claw over the dark stone as she waited for her next potential spouse. A true one to hold her and to be held by her. Not one that was trying to gain power through marriage. A raspy breath left her. A aching loneliness leaking through it.

"I miss being cuddled....*