Prologue


It was a rare event for the moon to pierce the veil of dark clouds that hung in the sky over the Land of the Dead. However, it was happening now, and a tall and skinny man, with a rumpled suit and slicked-back dark hair, looked up at it with a growing feeling of dread.

Victor Van Dort gazed around one last time, taking in the sights around him. He always knew that he would one day return to the Land of the Dead, but not quite like this. And now, he was about to set out on what he knew would be the most perilous journey of his… life.

The events of the previous days… or weeks… all seemed like a distant dream, and he could scarcely believe they had actually happened.

But they had, he reminded himself. And now, here I am.

A sharp, high-pitched barking at his feet caught his attention, and he looked down to see the familiar skeleton of a small dog with a red collar nipping at his heels. He smiled, somewhat comforted by the sight of his childhood and long-dead dog.

"Scraps, who's my good boy?"

The skeletal dog yipped and ran circles around him, its bony tail wagging furiously.

"Now, now, Scraps. You have to stay here. It's much too dangerous for you to come with me," Victor insisted.

He received a growl in response, and again when he repeated himself. Finally, pursing his lips, he gave a short nod, to which Scraps barked ecstatically. The young man smiled, touched by the dog's loyalty, even after it had been dead all of these years.

"Ah, there you are, Victor!"

He turned toward the voice to see a tall skeleton; wearing a red and white dragoon's uniform, spiked cap and monocle (even though he no longer had eyeballs); coming toward him. Despite the large hole in the chest of the former cavalry soldier, where a cannonball had obviously sent him on a one-way trip to the Land of the Dead, he still moved with the spryness and agility of a young man.

"General Wellington," Victor greeted. "Are you sure that you and General Bonesapart still wish to accompany us? It will be a perilous journey."

The General's long moustache twitched as he drew his curved sabre and held it aloft. "As we all declared several years ago, we will defend our one and only Emily. You have my sword, and my ever-lasting allegiance, to see this undertaking through to the bitter end."

Victor smiled in gratitude. "Huzzah, General," he offered weakly.

"Huzzah!" Wellington roared in reply.

At that moment, they heard footsteps approaching, and turned to see two figures coming toward them. One of them, an almost comically-short skeleton with mismatched eyes, wore a large Napoleonic hat. His blue coat and buttons gleamed in the moonlight. Perhaps his most noteworthy feature, however, was a large cutlass sticking through his chest, which he had obviously never bothered to remove since Victor had last visited this place.

Beside the short skeleton was a pale and beautiful figure, gliding gracefully down the street. Her long blue hair cascaded down the sides and back of her head, and over the top of the white and tattered wedding dress that she had been wearing faithfully ever since she had first arrived in the Land of the Dead. Her piercing eyes were determined.

The corpse bride…

Victor inadvertently felt his breath catch, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"General Bonesapart. And Emily, my dear," General Wellington spoke in a deep tone. "I trust you are both ready to depart?"

The corpse woman opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted when her right eye came out of her head with a loud POP. A large and ugly green maggot poked its head out of the empty eye-socket with a cheeky grin.

"We're all set to go!" he said with much gusto.

"And what makes you think that you're coming?" the petite woman snapped, bending down to pick her eyeball up off the ground.

"Oh, come on, you all need me!" the maggot shot back. "Everyone knows that I'm the brains of the operation!"

"Just because you've been sitting in my skull, that doesn't make you my brain! I have a perfectly-functioning one, thank you very much!"

The maggot opened his mouth to reply, but never got the chance as Emily shoved her eyeball back into its socket, forcing him back into the recesses of her skull. The short, stocky skeleton laughed in a high-pitched voice.

"I don't think you're going to be able to stop him from coming."

"Oh, shush, Bonesapart," she scolded. She turned to Victor and smiled. "Your wife is the luckiest woman in the world. If only she knew what you are about to do for her…"

He blushed slightly, and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He gazed around at her and the two skeletal generals. "Well… I am equally lucky to have all of you with me."

The stocky General Bonesapart withdrew the sword from his impaled body and held it across his chest in salute.

"We are all with you to the end, Victor," the tall General Wellington replied. "However, I must ask you once more – are you absolutely certain you are willing to go through with this?"

The young man spared a thought for his wife, scared and alone. "I must. For Victoria."

"Then we make haste!" Wellington cried, pointing his sabre ahead. "Forward! To the Valley of Death!"


AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Recently, I discovered a little gem of a movie called Corpse Bride. Normally, I'm not a sucker for love stories, but the music and story moved me. The ending was very bittersweet.

Thank you very much for reading so far, and I promise that the future chapters will provide some context for what was happening in the Prologue.

Also, reviews are greatly appreciated. I am always open to constructive criticism. Thanks for reading.