AllFreeNovel
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It’s been a long time since my monsters caught me, it’s also been a long while that the nightmares weren’t knocking at my door. Each time I closed my eyes, I saw them hovering over me. Snarling and grunting.
The sun is high, the heat is enough to stifle anything in its path, and as I make my way into the store, I bask in the coolness of the air conditioner. Killing people in the heat is never fun. As much as I enjoy being drenched in blood, I prefer doing it in the shade.
“Hello,” a pretty brunette says, smiling at me. She’s wearing one of those polka dot dresses which have netting under the skirt and I hope they have a plain red one. Perhaps the color of cherries—dark and rich.
“Hi, I need a dress for my wedding,” I tell her with a smile.
Her eyes widen in surprise, “Oh, we don’t stock wedding dresses.”
“I know. This isn’t a conventional wedding.” Flicking through the hangers on the silver railing, I don’t find what I want. When I have an image of something in mind, that’s the exact thing I’ll look for.
“Okay, well, we can find something in white—”
“No white. I want red. It has to be the color of blood. Like a red wine.” Stealing a glance her way, I notice her hands shake when she nods. I make people nervous. I know I do. Social cues aren’t my strong suit.
“Right,” she says, her voice filled with confusion and I can’t hide the giggle that bubbles in my chest. “We have this dress,” she tells me, pulling out a knee-length cherry red dress that has a thick black belt which will fit around my middle. The square neckline is perfect, along with the black netting just below the skirt.
“That’s it.” I tell her, grabbing the item from her grasp and quickly heading toward the changing room to see what it looks like. Once inside, I shut the door and take off my clothes. I pick up my phone and take a selfie in the mirror—my underwear the same color as the dress—before I send the photo to Pike with a little message.
Thinking of you, Daddy. Xo
I pull on the dress, ensuring it’s a perfect fit, before glancing in the mirror again. The image is blurry when I stop to really look at myself. I’m short, with long blonde hair, and the biggest blue eyes which matches Pike’s. I guess it runs in the family. My dark liner gives me an emo look. I’ve always hidden behind it, ensuring everyone was scared of me because I thought it’s the only way I wouldn’t get hurt. Then Pike broke me down and made me feel something. He made me love.
The dress is everything I had envisioned. It’s perfect. Just like Pike and me. My phone buzzing on the small chair in the changing room drags me from the thoughts of what’s to come, and when I open the message, I can’t help laughing.
Get home now so I can spank that little ass.
I can’t deny him. I’ve never been able to. So, I change into my normal clothes and make my way to the counter to pay. With a smile, I skip down the road, looking forward to my welcome when I get home.
With This Ring
Pike
Today is just another day in the vast equation of time. Nothing special to anyone who can’t see what I see or feel what I feel—and I pity every last person that doesn’t get to share this typical day in their lives with us.
I’m standing with Jameson at the front of the dilapidated chapel, leaning against the dusty altar, waiting for my bride to make her way down to me. I would have liked a tidier place for us, but much like the old, broken trains in the yard, Molly said this place reminded her of us and I don’t want to take that away from her. I want her to have every bit of happiness I can give her and more.
I crack my neck and feel a slight flow of warmth flow through my body. I can’t tell if it’s the excitement of what’s to come or the little magic papers that we slipped onto our tongues when we arrived at our destination.
“You nervous, Pike?”
I glance over at Jameson and grin, rubbing my hands slowly together.
“Nah. I’ve lived most of my life with her in one way or another—it just makes sense to do this now,” I reply with a shrug. He nods as I cross my arms loosely over my chest, eyeing the little audience we’ve gathered for our day. I don’t think any of them still really know why they’re here and that’s okay, as long as they don’t try to fuck this up for us.
Molly’s mother and father sit on the left side of the chapel, three pews back, exchanging confused looks with each other. My mother and father sit on the right side in the front pews—always wanting to be the center of fucking attention, they won’t sit anywhere they wouldn’t consider “front row” for any reason, regardless of what it may be.
