Micro Fiction Monday: Wedding Blues

 

                                                    Photo by Jon Butterworth on Unsplash                                                

     

    It was supposed to work. Diana's grip tightened around the flowers in her hands as she stood in the park where she and her fiancé were supposed to elope. The priest that was supposed to marry them patted her on the arm before even he too left her at the altar. She had done everything right. She was a devoted girlfriend of five years, never asked for much; she cooked, cleaned, and fucked her girlfriend whenever she wanted. The affairs had been the final straw- it sent her looking for her grandmother, a hoodoo witch on the outskirts of town. After much begging, she gave her a recipe- a binding spell, in which she used rosemary, salt, pepper, and a pinch of her own blood to season her girlfriend’s favorite weeknight enchilada meal. Everything had gone so well since then, but apparently, Diana was a fool to trust in that hoodoo nonsense. 

But then, she heard a cold, icy whisper skitter across her shoulder. She turned to face the sunken brown eyes of her fiancé. Where there should have been joy was a shuddering fear. Her lover’s  body was a disjointed distorted mass with arms bent in all the wrong angles; her dress was like a used sponge of dirt, wear, and rips. “Now, we can be together, forever.” Her fiancé- this monster wrapped Diana's cheek in one of her arms bringing her cheek to cheek before piercing her neck with fangs. Her blood crawled out of her body as she wondered if getting her girlfriend to commit to her was worth making her a monster. Now there was no turning back.

#shortscarystoriestoreadonline