Anne looked down on the sleeping form of her new husband and, God help her, he looked like the first man she would murder. Nestled into his arms was the naked body of her Maid of Honor.
It was the second time today the bride had caught them. First was at the reception. In the bathroom.
Monika’s dress and his tux were splayed over the chair and floor, trampled, along with a spilled bottle of champagne, cream satin shoes, a long taffeta slip, a hot pink pushup bra and Robert’s new black socks.
“Not exactly what a bride wants to see on her wedding day.” Anne spoke the chilling words in soft lilting tones, like she had recited her wedding vows that afternoon. It caused the reaction she hoped for. Monika bolted up, her eyes crossed but wide, clutching a sheet to her chest. Robert was scrambling to the floor.
“Don’t bother to put your pants on.”
“Honey—Anne—,” he said in his I’m-so-sorry-I-got-caught voice. His tanned face used to melt her insides, like when he smiled and the sun came out from behind the clouds. But today it wasn’t going to work. Everyone knew it. The bride had murder on her mind.
“I’m so glad you’re all right. We were…” Robert began.
“I’m fine. I can see how worried you were. Touching.” Amidst rustling taffeda and satin, Anne reached down to the handle of her wardrobe roller, stuffed to bursting with brand new clothes for her honeymoon, most with tags still on them. She made sure her money, passport and airline tickets were still zipped into the top pocket.
“Your dress, Anne,” Her former best friend pointed to the red stains down the front. “Is that blood?”
“Catsup.” Anne saw them both flinch. “Not blood. Not yet.”
“Now wait just a minute.” Robert climbed back into the bed and put his arms around Monika, but his body was tucked safely behind hers.
“I’m sorry about all this, Anne. I’ve been a fool.”
Monika turned around and looked at him in a drunken gaze. Maybe she was wising up already.
“No. It wasn’t going to work, you asshole. Don’t you think your timing sucked? Couldn’t you have done it before we did all this?” Anne lifted her skirts as if to curtsy. Robert relaxed and hung his head on Monika’s bare shoulder.
Anne grabbed a black rain slicker and rolled her trousseau out to the hallway. Whispers came from her bedroom. Unzipping her bag, she extracted the red and black outfit she had planned to wear on the plane—the one with the plunging neckline. Locking herself in the bathroom, she shimmied out of her bridal gown and slipped into her new things. Her feet found a comfortable home in her favorite pair of black crocs, the ones decorated by her bachelorette buddies with little bride and groom charms surrounded by red hearts.
No way.
She grabbed Robert’s toenail nippers from the vanity and snipped off both the bride and groom, but left the red hearts there. Romance wasn’t dead. But her marriage sure was.
Robert stood in the hallway in his shorts. “Where are you going?”
“On my honeymoon. I planned it. I paid for it. I’m going.”
She descended to the ground floor of her apartment building and realized her wedding gown was still draped over her left arm. A convenient row of black plastic garbage cans, out at the curb for an early morning pickup, became the gown’s final resting place. The nuclear tufts of stained and shredded white organza looked like tissue paper stuffing for a tall wedding present.
Do you like vampires? Do you like humor in those stories? Characters that find themselves in impossible situations? What do you like about vampires? Or dislike?
I agree that Anne Rice was one of the better authors to describe the vampire as tall, dark and brooding. I don't think anyone has done that since Bram Stoker.I'm glad I found you because I have dabbled in writing stories, only for myself personally, and need some advice, so this is a good site for me.
ReplyDeleteRaelene
Great to see you, Raelene. We should keep in touch. I love good, dark vampire stories. I can't get the humor out of my own work, so if it's dark and funny, I'm done!
ReplyDeleteLet's stay in touch, and thanks for stopping by.