It was forced. Not arranged. No. Don’t get that confused. It was a forced marriage. A forced marriage to join the two most powerful churches of the anti-Christ together. A forced marriage between you and Papa Emertius III.
The two of you first found out at a ‘family dinner’. Satan knows why they called it that, after all it was practically just a meeting with food you daren’t touch after learning what the ghouls feast on. Papa Nihil took a gulp of oxygen before turning to your father, “Quade,” Your father hummed. “I believe it is time.” “Si, Nihil. I agree.” He replied, and you looked between the two with questioning eyes, your mother just offered an almost animalistic grin, before the inevitable followed.
“Emeritus, (Y/n),” She began. “You are to be wed.” You dropped the cutlery in your clutch and it clattered harshly onto your empty plate. “Excuse me?” You coughed. “Do not interrupt me, child.” She seethed. “You are to join the two churches in a marital conjoining of law.” Her voice was cold, and harsh.
You had been planning on leaving the church for years. And now you were well and truly trapped. Never mind, you were fucked. “You can’t make us.” Emeritus spoke up, voice shaking slightly as Nihil gave him a side-glance. “We can and we will. On the night of October 31st you are to join in holy matrimony.” She concluded, a sickening look of contempt settled over her features.
“That’s a week today.” You stated, voice rising. “Do not raise your voice at me girl. You will do as I say.” Your mother hissed. “Mama-” “Enough!” She slammed her left fist against the table, causing Emeritus and yourself to jump anxiously. “This is to happen under the watchful eye for the anti-Christ and you are not to disobey me!”
You inhaled sharply before raising from your seated form, chair screeching on the floor as you sent it backwards. You hurried out of the room, not knowing where to go as this was the church of Nihil, not your own.
A cellar. That was where you found yourself. The tears on your cheeks were hot, your mind buzzing with a mixture of angered emotions. You heard the door creak from the corner you were bundled in, but you couldn’t care to look. Why should you? Your life was being sold to a breathing corpse and his family.
“Amor,” You hear the voice of the person you least wanted to see at that moment. “Fuck off Emeritus.” His tone soon changed. “I don’t want this shit as much as you don’t, but at least I have the decency to be civil.” He stated, voice icy. “Civil? I wanted out of my family. Not to be sold into yours.” You told him, looking up to meet his stare. “We are slaves to Lucifer. We have been sold. (Y/n) you cannot run from a fate that has already captured you. Grow up and understand that.” He spat. You just shook you head and dropped it to your knees.
Emeritus approached you and held out an envelope. You raised an eyebrow. “If I am to be married, my bride is to wear the best dress money can buy.” Suddenly he was unable to make his gaze meet your own. “I can buy my own dress.” Realising you would not take his money, he just dropped it by your feet. “Black is a good colour.” He began walking to the door. “There is no point running from it, believe me, I have tried.” The door shut behind him.
The next week passed disturbingly fast, and somehow you found yourself at the steps of Nihil’s Church, clutching a bouquet consisting of black petunias, roses, tulips, and dahlias. The black dress you were adorning trailed behind you, dragging against the cold stone floor. The lace of the bodes dug into your skin and your hair was pulled back uncomfortably tight. Nothing about this day was a fairytale, only the horrors of a nightmare.
To a foreign eye the way your father’s arm was gripping your own was wholesome and heartwarming. But he was merely holding you that tight as to not allow you to flee. He was more anxious than you, him eager to hand you over and seal the fate of the church of the Anti-Christ.
