Author's note: This story was based on Tim Burton's film ' Corpse Bride ', I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me neither does the storyline due to me modifying it to fit the characters Responses and choices,

If this become popular I may continue. Thank you.

It was 2 am on the dot. Standing beneath an old oak tree besides the town's graveyard was a girl waiting for her lover. Dressed in her mother's wedding gown, she was fiddling in apprehension with her bouquet. The girl began to pluck the now dying roses, silently wishing the person she was waiting for would arrive faster. Her out fit was rather beautiful. The dress held the designs of showing off her shoulders, and wrapped around her torso was a strapless corset with pearls sewn into it with an elaborate design, and in completion of the outfit was a flowing skirt with thin material. Despite it's beauty it does not help on keeping her warm. Nothing less she adored it. Since she was a child Amelia soon fell in love with it. The way its white fabric seemed to call her was enchanting. It was the pearl inside a dull wooden clam, time never seemed to wear it down. An image of being unbreakable crossed her mind whenever she saw it, like the representation of her parent's love.

And hopefully it symbolizes the love the couple will create once her future husband arrives. Speaking of such affairs...

No one knew nothing of this, not even her darling twin sister Madeline. Well, except for Arthur-

Amelia's cheeks turned red at the thought of her childhood best friend. Oh Arthur...her heart ached slightly from the thought of him. The wound itself was caused by the verbal fight they had weeks ago. Shaking her head she let out a haughty huff 'Oh why should I think about him? Out of all people, especially a male, on my wedding night?' Technically it wasn't a wedding night since the two were eloping. The idea was all very secret and private. Amelia had no idea where he intended for them to go, but she was reassured as soon her lover told the young woman that he'd organized a horse and carriage to take them away as soon as possible and that he'd find them a priest once they arrive to the nearest church.

The list Amelia's lover requested was rather odd but reasonable too. The list only had two items therefore it was easy to remember. A few of the items she additionally added herself. So, she followed the instructions as to what had to be done and what is needed:

* Money - Being a daughter from one of the richest families out there it was no problem to obtain

* Clothing, including the finest gowns she owned. Again, no problem.

* Blankets

* Food

However what was not on the list was writing a letter to her family. A mental civil war broke out in her mind once she thought of the idea. If Amelia did, they would come after her and try with all their power not to let her go. If she didn't, they would be left in a purgatory state wondering where Amelia left to and why. 'Especially Arthur' said the voice in her head. She shut her eyes tightly, hands clenched in a fist at the very thought not wanting to think about it. Out of everyone, besides her sister of course, it upsets her the most to picture a slack jawed Arthur staring at her letter in disbelief, clutching the wrinkled parchment trying to place the puzzle pieces together. She knew he would be the one emotionally affected out of them all. Amelia sniffed, quickly realizing her eyes were brimmed with tears at the thought she wiped away the salty perspiration that threatened to spill down her cheeks and sighed. So that was that, she did write a goodbye note knowing it was the best. At least they would know she was in a better place, right?

"Oh, where are you darling? I'm sure it's nearly 3 and the cold isn't helping at all." Amelia mumbled. She did arrive twenty minutes late, perhaps he left thinking the other had cold feet? Or did he have cold feet instead? 'No worries Ami, he shall be here soon. I know he won't let me down, he's a gentleman for pete's sake!' Blue colored irises flickered at surroundings, a chill ran down her back as she stared at the dark abyss of the forest. 'Not to mention the location we're meeting at.' She silently added to herself. It was dark and gloomy, an aura of mystery surrounded it yet tainted with a hair raising feeling. The thought that Amelia is sitting next to a cemetery did not help at all with the situation. In fact it only seemed to fuel her paranoia. 'How come I am feeling this? Do I really want to do this? Maybe Arthur was right...maybe this was really a silly girl's fantasy-' and then she felt a gloved hand on her shoulder.

Amelia screamed in shock.

Like a resonating church bell, her cries echoed throughout the woods. Long, thin fingers covered the young woman's mouth despite the high chance of them being bitten off. She gagged tasting the dry cloth of a glove against her lips. "It's me. Do not scream mon cher, the townsfolk are sleeping." A voice cooed. Body once tense automatically relaxed from hearing his tender voice. Feeling Amelia's body relaxing he slowly lowered his hand from her mouth and back to her shoulder. The cold winter air rushing back to her lungs caused her to cough "Francis." Amelia wheezed. "Darling, you scared the living hell out of me!" Francis gave her an apologetic smile "Ah, please do forgive for keeping you waiting. I was a bit lost on the way" He then came into view. The Frenchman was sharply dress, stubborn golden locks were pulled back in a silk bow. A few stray hairs stayed behind, framing his face handsomely. However his eyes on the other hand were different. The look he was giving while examining her was unnerving, it was like a predator after its prey. His eyes became dark and clouded causing an allusion of them being a mystic purple. "You look so beautiful mon cher," Francis said after a long silence before finally meeting her eyes. "a lovely bride you are. My bride to be exact."

His words set her heart aflutter, truly as they say the French do hold a power of passion to their words. Amelia was so touched and flatteres by his words she barely heard him speak to her about the items she brought. "Hm?" She said.

He chuckled at this "I said, did you have everything I told you to bring?" Amelia nodded jumping up quickly, "Oh! Oh yes I did, yes." She paused before asking him the following question "Er, darling have you um, organised a carriage for us?" She asked, the tone of eagerness in her voice. To be inside the carriage was a delightful image, her hands rubbed against her arms to stimulate warmth that was oh so needed. Francis nodded "Oui, it should be around the edge of the woods by now. Of course I came to collect you." Amelia smiled at his words. How sweet. Bending down to pick up her suitcase her fingers fumbled to grab the handle. By golly, she was so cold she wasn't able to pick up a simple suitcase! Feeling the warmth of his hands upon her own caused her to stop, such a gentleman! He was going to carry it for her! Perhaps him giving her his coat would be even more delightful, or his arms wrapped around her...

Amelia looked up and locked gazes, instantly freezing in place as Francis gazed in to her eyes as if she was paralyzed. A doe caught in headlights was what she was. Dark and heavy he looked at Amelia with a gruesome grin that was placed on his face. The moonlight pooling into the surrounding area that was casting the shadows only made him seem even more inhuman. The young woman felt sick to her stomach at the realization on what is going to happen, and that was just barely looking into his eyes. However, the fear of his looks was merely nothing comparing to what he said:

"Non, there's no need for you to have that."

"...Wha?" She said, the word barely passing her lips as she slowly started to stand up, careful enough to not to provoke the Frenchman. Amelia started to move back as soon he moved forward, step by step. It was as if she was the mouse and he was the cat. The urge to scream or shout in alarm died automatically on to her lips, however that didn't stop her from talking. "Francis? What are you doing?" Amelia whimpered. Feeling the prickling sensation of the tree bark digging into her bare back, Amelia pressed herself against the tree as if it would absorb her into its protective grasp. Francis approached her, closing the space between the two. All in one swift movement he was inches from touching her, tears that threatened to spill before started to return. Hands placed either side of Amelia's head gently, the feeling of his hot breath ghosting over pale flesh caused goose bumps. Amelia shut her eyes refusing to look at him in the eye 'Oh God, let it be over.' She prayed silently. Instead, they snapped wide open as soon she felt his hand snaked behind her head and roughly grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling the other into a kiss. It wasn't like the kisses they shared before, no this one was full of hunger and depiction. It was as if he violated her of emotions and physically. Before she had anytime to register of what just happened Francis pulled away and wiped the back of his mouth. Then he slowly reached down to his waist to where his belt was, Amelia swallowed thickly, a million thoughts rushing through her head 'Oh God, what is he-!'

There it was, a very large knife came into view. The metal faintly glistened in the moonlight. A horrid thought crossed Amelia's mind at the thought of her blood tainting it. She knew what was going to happen but never did she ever parted her lips to create a bloodcurdling scream. Who else would hear her? Especially this time of night, certainly not her parents or her sister. Arthur? By that thought that's when the tears actually started to spill, big fat pearly droplets began to trail down rose colored cheeks. 'I never had a chance to say good bye to him.' Loosing all the strength of her legs, her knees buckled and she fell to the ground slipping down the tree trunk. The adrenaline pumping through her vains made her unaware of the scraps caused by the rough tree bark. Her stomach felt as if there was a sack of rocks settled inside and that was because he never got rid of that psychotic smile and sadly she knew why. Francis had won. His tactics of making Amelia believe that he truly cared about her was true. It was all one giant big plan. All her fantasies of romance, love, marriage, and eternal happiness that would come true were simple mirages and never will they become a reality. To be honest, they were manipulated into thinking they would. If only her prince could swoop Amelia into his arms and save her, but who?

Amelia was now at the base of the tree, body numb and lips sore from the intense kiss. The dress that once was a pure white is now colored with a sticky red substance from the scraps caused by the tree bark. Francis took one last look at Amelia, eyes growing darker by the second as he watched her pathetic display. He grasped the knife with both hands and leveled it to where her heart was at.

"Bonne nuit Amelia." Francis cooed. With that, he lunged towards her with great with amszing speed.

And so, pearly white tears ran down her cheeks, the cold seeping into her bones from the dress being soaked by the snow. Lungs burning with intensity from the winter air Amelia took a deep breath and with all her might filled the once empty woods with the sounds of her cries as Francis plunged the knife into her heart.

Body slumped against the base of the tree, he took a step back and snatched her luggage "Adieu." With that said, the Frenchman turned around and headed off to the awaiting carriage at the edge of the woods leaving the now corpse bride.