Chapter Text
Nimble fingers maneuvered a pen across parchment paper that was strewn across a creaky wooden desk. The owner of said fingers raised the quill, dipping it generously into the ink pot beside him and continuing his ministrations as the butterfly trapped inside the glass container set under the window. The butterfly’s wings fluttered in its makeshift cage as it periodically thudded against its transparent prison, while the man disregarded this and kept drawing the specimen. Once he determined he was done, the quill was swiftly discarded as he instead moved his hands to raise the glass containing the insect. It fluttered around the room for a few seconds, circling the man before finally making its retreat out of the window. In a way, the man felt like the butterfly, confined in a prison and unable to decide where he wanted to go and what he wanted to do. However, unlike the butterfly, he didn’t have someone to set him free.
The chime of the clock from the monotonous town outside broke the man from his thoughts and, accompanied by the ringing of a newsman outside, bought his thoughts back to the harsh reality he was facing with his betroval. “Ten minutes until Atkinson boy's wedding rehearsal!” it declared, and Hugo felt the dread settle in. Ah yes. He was still due to marry Miss Gardiner tomorrow, wasn’t he? He didn’t know how he’d forgotten. He rose to his feet from his place at the desk and made his way towards the door in a bitter silence, pushing it open and making his way down the stairs with a bitter feeling of anxiety settling in the pit of his stomach.
He knew the wedding was a way for his mother to make money - but that didn’t mean he had to find it fair. Donella had never neglected to tell him that marriage was merely out of necessity and never for affection, however a part of him had always prayed that he would find someone he had genuine feelings for. But, here he was, about to leave for his wedding rehearsal for a marriage to a girl he’d never even spoken to or seen in his life and he had to just smile and accept it. After all, this was the big ‘money maker’ for his mother. Besides, he’d never even spoken to another woman before so..it wasn’t as if he could find a wife himself even if he tried. Nevertheless, he strode out the door and joined his mother in that fateful carriage.
The ride was short, Hugo all the while staring out of the window at the cobbled streets and the different shades of grey that covered the streets. It really was a drab town they lived in wasn’t it? All that covered this tedious town was shades of grey, making it all the more depressing in winter when the ivory snow joined the landscape. It seemed that all color just..ceased to exist in this place. Either way, Hugo desperately tried to distract himself from his upcoming betrothal to the mystery woman, who honestly should be marrying something like a Lord or at least someone of a higher class than him, but who was he to question her family’s decisions at this point.
“You’ve certainly got a good match, Hugo. All you have to do is not mess it up or scare her away. After all, everything must go according to plan.” Donella’s voice shattered the silent atmosphere and Hugo’s thought process. His eyebrow quirked up and a confused smile settled on his face as he looked at his mother in the cramped carriage. Her grey dress matched the general vibe of the town outside and blended in with the satin seats.
“Shouldn’t a Gardiner be marrying a Lord or-or something like that? I haven’t even spoken to her-” he began to question, before Donella rudely interrupted him.
“Nonsense, we are every bit as good as the Gardiners.” she declared before looking at her son, “Well at least we have that, then. No chance you’ve scared her away already.” Donella muttered before leaning back in the seat, making it clear this conversation was over. Hugo let out a frustrated sigh as gazed out the window once again, letting himself get lost again in the depressing nature of their wretched town.
After around ten minutes, the carriage jolted and stopped in its tracks, the footman swinging the door open so he and his mother could exit. Donella gracefully stepped down onto the pavement and Hugo stumbled out after. Stone steps clicked under the heels on his mother’s boots as they ascended them. Once they reached the top, Donella’s hand raised to knock the dark oak door, Hugo looming awkwardly behind her as she and the mystery woman’s parents exchanged formalities in the doorway. The foyer of the house was of a decent size - not as spacious as the one in his mother’s mansion. Black and white checkered tiles covered the floor in a deliberate pattern, with grey curtains to compliment them and a grand, spruce piano to the right towards the hallway the elders were heading towards. A fireplace was on the left wall, the crest of the family carved into the stone above it, a few metres away sat a table along with paintings on the wall. A large staircase that broke into a left and right pathway sat in the middle of the room, Hugo not even daring to try ascending them for fear of what he’d find, or for fear of punishment from the hosts.
Hugo absentmindedly let himself head over to the piano, letting himself be seated on the matching spruce seat, a layer of cotton that was covered by a grey velvet shielding it. His fingers drifted across the ivory keys before trying a few, the sound echoing in the foyer filled with just him. He tested a few more, a rhythm slowly being crafted by his own two hands as he let himself fall victim to the trance of music. His fingers were evidently not only good for sketching and writing, them dancing between the notes of his melody and blocking out any sound other than what was coming from the piano. It distracted him to not even hear the click of a woman’s high heels against that tiled floor as she stood behind him. His head slowly turned, meeting the face of a rather attractive woman before he fell back from the stool, knocking it to the floor and rising to his feet. “Oh my...do forgive me-” He uttered as he stumbled over his words.
“You play beautifully.” she stated, her chestnut hair tied back into a neat bun and a desaturated mauve dress decorating her figure. Brown eyes stared into his blue ones in wonder and joy. He had to admit, she did look rather beautiful.
“I do apologise, miss Gardiner. How rude of me to, well-” he cut off his own words as his eyes glanced down to the stool, still laying on the ground since he knocked it. “Excuse me.” he whispered, reaching down to put the stool upright and his back straightening as he did so. As soon as he was finished, he arched his back, using his left hand to quickly dust off the seat as the woman watched him intently.
“Mother won't let me near the piano.” she stated, still watching Hugo as he continued his avid dusting, “Music is improper for a young lady. Too passionate, she says.” she declared, her eyes focusing on a tile before redirecting themselves back to the man standing across from her. Hugo spent some time examining her face - it being thin and sculpted almost perfectly with freckles strewn across her face that were the same shade as her hair. So she was the woman he was betrothed to, huh? Well, she wasn’t that bad at all.
“So...where’s your chaperone, Miss Gardiner?” he questioned, folding his arms, slightly uncomfortable in the black suit that his mother had purchased him specifically for the wedding tomorrow. Black was probably his least favourite color - his favourite definitely being green. Green reminded him of spring, the only time their town had any semblance of color, with the graveyard no longer looking desolate and having some signs of light and life.
“Well, considering the circumstances, you should call me Odelia.” she commented with a smile, her hands moving behind her back with a wider smile than he’d seen on anyone else in his life. It was strange, really. She reminded him of spring.
“`Well, uh..Odelia. Tomorrow we are to be..uh-” he began, a nervousness in his voice while in the presence of the woman he was about to marry
“Married.”
“Ah, yes. Married.” he chuckled nervously and bit the inside of his cheek, a lingering silence falling between them as they ran out of things to say. Hugo’s hands rose to pick at the threads on the sleeve of his suit jacket, before lowering his hands and opting to wring his cravat with shaky hands in an attempt to calm his nerves. It succeeded, helping to stop the slight quiver in his voice.
“You know...ever since I was a child, I dreamed of my wedding day.” she began, seemingly rambling to herself as she took a seat on the velvet stool and let her fingers ghost across the keys of the piano in front of them. “I always hoped that it would be with someone I deeply loved and someone to spend the rest of my life with.” She let out a little giggle, her lips curling into a gentle smile. “But I guess that’s silly isn’t it?” Odelia sighed, a hint of sadness in her tone as she stared at the floor solemnly.
“Yes, silly.” He whispered, realising his mistake before lunging and yelping. “Wait-wait no! It's not silly at all!” He called out, knocking over a tiny, ivory vase holding a snowdrop and spilling water over the piano. Gasping, he scrambled and accompanied Odelia in trying to clear up the mess he’d created with a haste he’d never had before. “I’m so sorry, Odelia!” He profusely apologised to the woman in front of him.
Odelia simply laughed, a sweet and welcome sound to him that made him more and more happy each and every time he heard it. It sounded like angels singing and reminded him of the joy of the first day of spring. With soft, careful hands, Odelia held out the snowdrop and placed it in his upper pocket, nothing but a soft smile playing on her lips at the intimate moment between them.
“What is this impropriety!” Mrs Gardiner yelled as she turned the corner, jolting Hugo and Odelia out of their intimate moment and back into a state of awkwardness and shock. “ You shouldn’t be alone together! Look, one minute till five and you two haven’t arrived at rehearsal so hurry up! The pastor is waiting!” she yelled. Hugo and Odelia silently shrugged to each other and followed the woman around the corner to the parlour room where everyone was waiting for them.
The parlour room was decorated with plenty of paintings and statues, yet was still just as monotone and depressing as the rest of the house. No matter where they went, nowhere had any colour. In the centre of the room sat three rows of chairs, four in each row with a makeshift aisle separating the pairs of chairs, with their family sat on either side. A table was a metre in front of these chairs, the pastor standing behind it with a lit candle and a golden chalice on top of a white tablecloth. Hugo sucked in a deep breath and sighed.
This was going to be interesting.
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“Master Atkinson, go from the beginning. Again.”
An exasperated sigh passed through his lips as the pastor repeated the vows for what felt like the fiftieth time. Three hours. Three hours later and Hugo STILL couldn’t get his vows right. They couldn’t blame him though. He was just...incredibly nervous and didn’t know what to do at all. The candle refused to light and his brain refused to register the words he was being told to repeat.
"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” The pastor uttered. Hugo’s eyes met Odelia’s, who gave him a sympathetic smile for his struggles. It’s not that he didn’t want to marry Odelia, he did, but he was just nervous to finally commit his entire life to a girl he’d had exactly one conversation with, which, by the way, was incredibly awkward and one of the only conversations he’d had with a woman in his life.
“Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.” His eyes then drifted to the Gardiners, whose faces looked more angry than anything else. He bet they already thought he was a disappointment of a son-in-law, and they’d be 100% right. He wasn’t really good at anything in most people’s eyes.
“With this candle, I will light your way in darkness.” Then he glanced at Donella, her face being covered by an abnormally bony arm as she shook her head in disappointment. Great. He could’ve handled disappointment from his in-laws but not from his own mother. Oh well, he’d be out of her hair soon anyway, married off to Odelia and having to live out his life with her. Oh joy.
“With this ring, I ask you to be mine. Lets try it again, shall we?” The pastor commented, looking at Hugo and, if looks could kill, Hugo would be a corpse husband. The man honestly looked like he was two more messed up vows away from choking him on the altar. Hugo shakily nodded, feigning a smile on his face before he held the waxy, white candle in his right hand and began to try and recite his vows.
“With this candle-” he exclaimed, holding the wick to the flame which, to his dismay and to the frustration of everyone else in the room, didn’t light. He kept trying, repeating the statement again and again. Why the hell wasn’t it lighting? What was even going on? He bit his lip and looked up at the pastor, confused and panicked.
“Nevermind. Go from the steps.” The exasperated and clearly annoyed pastor finally said, seeming already completely fed up with the man in front of him. Hugo pondered for a second, holding out his hand for Odelia to take, which she did graciously. God, her hands were so warm somehow. They were like a weight tethering him into the room and keeping him there. She gave his hand a little reassuring squeeze, a small smile making its way onto his face. She was an absolute oxymoron of everything around them - he could get used to this.
“With this hand, I will-” He took one, two, three and four steps. Straight into the table. He stumbled forwards, quickly moving his hands to steady the chalice and the candle before they fell over the cloth. Why the hell was he messing up so badly? He wasn’t this nervous earlier so how was he doing so badly at remembering a few little vows?
“Three steps! Three! Stop! Stop! Do you not wish to be married, Mr Atkinson?” The pastor finally bellowed, something inside of his snapping and lunging across the table. A red flush of anger covered his face as he glared at Hugo with murderous intent, the younger man feeling much much smaller and more afraid than he’d ever been in his life.
“No, no!” he yelled out in response , his hands rising to shield his face nervously as he bit his lip gently.
“You do not?” Odelia butted in, a deep frown on her face as she looked into Hugo’s eyes. Shit. That was…certainly not what he meant to say. He didn’t mean to upset her at all.
“No that’s not what I-I meant I don’t..not want to get married. That is..I really, really want to get married.” He gulped, his attention solely on Odelia in front of him, an awkward smile on his face as he bit the inside of his cheek.
“Pay attention! Have you remembered to bring the ring?”
“Yes! Yes, the ring!” Hugo searched his pockets, his fingers finally brushing against the cold metal of the circular object. Swiftly, he brought out the plain band, holding it between his thumb and index finger. He must’ve held it too hard or his hands shook too much, since as soon as he brought out the little object, it flicked out of his fingers and fell to the floor. It rolled and rolled, much to the horror of everyone else. Gasps and screams filled the room as he lunged to get the ring and pick it up.
“Enough! This wedding can’t happen until he is properly prepared!” the pastor exclaimed, shoving his finger against Hugo’s chest, who shuffled back against the door in fear. He sucked in a breath as the pastor stepped even closer. “Young man, learn your vows.” He declared sternly, Hugo shakily nodding before rushing out of the room and running away as fast as he could from the house to the graveyard.
Snow crushed under his feet as he crossed over the stone bridge, sighing and shivering. “It really shouldn’t be that difficult. It’s only a few simple vows.” he murmured under his breath as he trailed along the path to the graveyard, the trees becoming more and more looming over him and the light from the moon more and more obstructed by branches. “With this candle I will...I will…” he let out a tired sigh, “I will set your mother on fire. It’s no use.” he muttered as he took a seat on a fallen tree in a clearing, a hand-like branch sticking out of the ground in the middle, underneath a colossal tree.
A newfound confidence swept through him out of nowhere as he rose to his feet. “With this hand, I shall lift your sorrows!” he declared as he brought the ring out of his pocket, a grin quirking his lips. “Your cup will never empty, for I shall be your wine!” his voice grew in volume as he stepped around the clearing, shaking hands with the spindly branches of the spruce trees surrounding him on every side. “ With this candle, I will light your way in the darkness! And with this ring, I ask you to be mine.” he yelled as he slipped the ring onto one of the branches of the root sticking from the ground.
Wind howled around him for a second and, as he looked up, crows sat on the branches of trees surrounding him. Staring at him and cawing maniacally as soon as he’d slipped the ring onto the root. The root gripped his wrist, pulling it down into the ground with a forceful tug. Crows that were once perched on the winding branches of trees now flew and cawed around the clearing. Frantically, he tried to tug his hand free from the unrelenting grasp, falling back with a skeletal arm now attached to him. Hugo shook it away and the ground in front of him began to break away, a figure rising from the dirt. First its arms, then its head, then its body.
The man who had arisen wore a wedding suit, similar to his, however blue. He had raven hair that fell just to his shoulders, a cyan streak in between the locks that blended in with the light blue tint on his skin. The mystery ghoul seemed part skeletal too - little bits of his flesh and body torn away by decay, his ribcage clearly showing from under the suit he wore. The ghoul raised the veil that was partially covering his head, whispering two fateful words.
“I do.”
Hugo scurried back in shock as the man held a hand out towards him, scrambling to his feet and sprinting away as fast as his legs would carry him. Periodically he’d glance back, the figure always far too close to him. It was as though he couldn’t lose him, no matter how far or fast he’d thought he was running. In his haste, he ran into a tree, his body wracked in pain. This pain was soon to be ignored, however, as he turned his head to see the figure still gaining on him. He frantically pushed himself away and began to run again towards the bridge. Why did it feel so far away? He caught his jacket on various branches, causing rips and tears all over the custom made jacket. Donella was sure to kill him if this man didn’t.
His heart thudded in his chest as his feet made contact with the stone surface of the bridge, it clicking slightly under his shoes. Hugo turned on his heel to check for the figure as a murder of crows flew over his head. The forest, the church...nowhere showed any sign of the mystery man. It must’ve been his imagination. Hopefully.
Hugo let out a breathy chuckle, taking a few steps backwards and turning. Turning to be face to face with the man he was running from. A scream almost passed through his lips as he frantically backed away into the bridge, his chest still heaving as the undead figure stepped towards him. “You may now kiss the bride.” the ghoul whispered, his hands resting on his shoulders and leaning in as crows circled and surrounded them.
Everything faded to black.