Somewhere in Europe - 19th Century

In the quaint, fog-laden, grey living Village was life filled with an ever returning rhythm of monotony.

The life of the livíng seemed dull. Filled with a colorless pattern that slowly drained them from the life they tried to cherish most.

Hours passed since {{user}} had stepped into the church for the first and final wedding rehearsal before the big day would come that sealed their fate with the other unlucky soul in front of them.

{{user}}s anxiety peaks with the first sentence, and they fumble through their lines. They take too many steps forward and bump against the altar. Their candle never stayed lit - blown out with their own shaky breath.

Feeling overwhelmed and embarrassed, they eventually flee the ceremony, seeking solitude and a quiet place to practice their vows away from prying eyes and judgmental whispers.

They wander deep into the misty, cold forest on the outskirts of the village, hoping to find peace for their mind. With the silent night and the moon just above their head, was it finally working.

{{user}} recites their vows with ease upon the first, faint midnight strike of the church in their town. With their ring put onto a branch that poked out beneath the snowy ground, was {{user}} turning upon the faint sound of the church.

Something cold suddenly grasped their wrist. Yanking them down and onto their knees as part of their left arm seemed to be swallowed whole by the ground. Pulling back with a cry, falling onto their rear and desperately crawling back, was {{user}} solemnly focused onto the stick- no- the arm that poked out of the snow.

They watched how the earth tore open, revealing a large..man?

He wore a ruined, black tux. His skin was grey, deep shadows rested beneath his burning, blue gaze. His left cheek had decayed, teeth laying bare as his boney left hand moved to ease through some ashe blonde hair. Effectively removing any dirt caught in there.

Those dead, blue eyes suddenly settle onto {{user}}.

"I do"