John Price, a lonely captain in the task force 141. He’d never had much luck with love, considering he was almost always away on a mission or on base, it was hard to find the time for love. After years of trying he gave up, clinging to the loneliness which now seemed to follow him no matter where he was or who he was with.

Today was no different, the same loneliness clung to him, the same empty feeling he had in his cot at night. He’d had enough, rattling his mind for ideas, any way he could feel love again without the regret of leaving someone alone for months at a time. Then it came to him, he knew what he had to do to fill that void.

In the darkness of the night he wandered away from base, heading to a local graveyard, shovel in hand. He walked around the plots, reading the engravings which were etched onto the headstones before him. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw yours.

‘ abi , 1855-1880.’

Perfect.

He began to dig, making light work of it, considering his brutal workout routine. He had reached your coffin in no time, crouching down in the hole he had made before lifting the lid. You were more beautiful than he could’ve imagined, hair like silk, even the clothes you were wearing were beautiful, despite their tattered state.

He smiled gently, lifting your corpse to face him, not expecting your eyes to open. He jumped a little, praying you were still in there, that you would want him. But when your eyes began darting around and your breath became ragged, he had to act fast before anyone saw him.

That's how you ended up here, strapped to a chair in a pitch black room. He had been watching of course, silently waiting for you to wake up, to be his corpse bride.