Before I start this fic up, let me tell you a couple of things:

One: This is a parody of Tim Burton's "Corpse Bride" I do not own the movie, nor do I own the characters I am using for it. I also do not own the songs, for they belong to Danny Elfman.

Two: This is set during the late 19th century so most of the concepts shall be set in that time.

Three: Most of the superstars in this story will be displayed ten years younger than their real age (Example: John Cena, who is 30 in real life, shall be 20)

Four: I hope you had fun reading this as I had writing it.

The Death Groom chapter 1

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It was a cloudy day in the city, with a shroud of pale grey that casted the people with an everlasting groom that would not seem to clear up. The village people began to work through their daily lives, opening the window shutters of petrified wood and lighting the lamp posts by flames. It was impossible to imagine a drearier place in the world than the city of Brooklyn, New York, but that wasn't what everyone in the city thought.

It was the beginning of a new age in the year of 1843.

In one of the houses was a young woman with blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes who was around her late teens. She was dressed in a black blouse and white skirt with a blue satin ribbon wrapping her hair in a bun. She opened the shutters to her room, opening it up to the blotted clouds. In her closed hands was a black butterfly as she opened them and let it soar past the room and into the skies. She stared across the window, seeing the smoggy up sky, and the small insect fluttering away from the town.

"Ashley!" A shrill voice said throughout the building. "Get down here this instant!"

"I'm coming," Ashley said, rapidly brushing her hair. She grabbed the black dress shoes near the side of her bed and stepped down the stairs, one of the shoes now hanging loosely on her right foot. She didn't understand what was so important about this wedding; it would be the same thing she was going through for the past 7 years of her life. If she was just going to be miserable for the rest of her life after this moment, she might as well enjoy the ride till then.

An old wooden coach, driven by a white colt, down the dreary cobblestone road. The driver was someone you would never expect to be one. A young man around 20, with short brown hair and dazzling blue eyes was holding onto the reins. His attire consisted of a pair of brown tattered pants, and a green shirt that had been patched up so many times that it looked like it was camouflage. A dirt stained cap, made of the same fabric as the shirt was on his head.

The doors to the house burst open as a man and woman walked down the entrance. Their faces, although it looked like everyone else in the city, had sinister smiles as they looked at the driver who tipped his hat at them. The woman, with her fiery red hair, her black dress and pearl necklace looked almost, if not like, a movie star, even with the fur coat that was wrapped around her body. The man, was dressed in a black tuxedo, along with a black top hat and loafers had a grey necktie upon the white dress shirt tucked beneath the tuxedo. A long black scarf was wrapped around his neck.

As they neared the coach, the driver removed his hat, and bowed down to two, a soft smile was on his face. The couple did not return the smile, ignoring the greeting as he opened the door for them.

"Good day to you both," He said, placing the cap back on top of his head. "Sir Adam Copeland, Miss Amy Dumas, and I suppose your daughter..."

"For the hundredth time, John!" Adam snapped at the driver. "She is not our daughter! Just get it through your thick head and let us in!"

That part was true, by legal rights she wasn't. Ashley's parents had passed away when she was ten, and with no one to look after her, they were taken to the nearest people that they could find. The two really did not like raising her, thinking she was just a thorn in their flesh. But the papers were signed that until she was of legal age to marry, they had to take care of her. Moreover, it also said that the minute she was married, the savings from her parents' account would go directly to the guardians.

"I have been waiting for this day for so long, Adam." Amy said, fanning herself. "The only thing we have to do is get the girl to say our vows, and we're free from her forever! And we'll have all of that money to ourselves."

"That's true," Adam said, giving a sly peck on his love's cheek. "Then after that, we will be free to do whatever we want. For you see.."

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Amy:

It's a beautiful day

Adam:

It's a rather nice day

Amy:

A day for a fabulous wedding

Adam:

A rehearsal dear, my dear, to be perfectly clear

Amy:

A rehearsal for a glorious wedding!

Adam:

Assuming nothing happens that we don't really know

Amy:

That nothing unexpected interferes with the show…

Amy & Adam:

And that's why every thing
Every last little thing
Every single tiny microscopic little thing must go…

Amy:

According to plan

Adam:

Our gal shall be married

Amy:

According to plan

Adam:

With her family carried

Amy & Adam:

Elevated to the heights of society…

Amy:

To the costumed balls!

Adam:

In the hallowed halls!

Amy:

Rubbing elbows with the finest!

Adam:

Having crumpets with her highness!

Amy & Adam:

We'll be there, we'll be seen
Having tea with the queen
We'll forget everything
That we've ever, ever been!

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Ashley quickly ran down to the coach, giving off a small wave to John before she got in. She looked at her parents with some disgust as she sat down, upset that they were the ones who decided to host this wedding.

"It's about time," Adam said as Ashley shut the door. "You know how important this wedding is!"

"I know," Ashley said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She rather had been in the cemetery doing renovation to the tombstones than go to a wedding. At least there, the only people she can talk wouldn't have to back sass at her.

John grabbed the reins of the horse, and in no time, the horse started to trot gracefully upon the road. Many of the village girls stopped to look at the driver, sighing at his beautiful figure. John just ignored them, his eyes filled with a soft sorrow, as if he had gone through something traumatizing in his life.

"Why are you making me do this?" Ashley moaned. "I hate dressing up in this girly stuff, and I don't want to be married!"

"You're going to be married, whether you like it or not, Ashley." Amy said, fanning herself once more. "We raised you for the last 7 years of our lives ever since you were ten and is this how you treat us?"

"You could at least make me drop off this marriage," Ashley muttered to herself. "I don't even know the guy I'm marrying."

"Least we have that in our favor," Adam said with a sneer.

Suddenly, there was a loud coughing outside. Ashley cringed a bit at the noise. For the past couple of months, John had gotten immensely ill and the medicine for his sickness was too expensive to pay for (even with that excuse, they would not get it for him). Despite the whole year that he had been serving them, Ashley was still nervous whenever John was coughing; it felt like he could die and fall off the carriage, and then the horses would trample over his dead body.

"Shut up with that coughing, John!" Amy yelled at the driver and the coughing stopped.

Ashley sighed and buried her face in her hands, the thought of being buried alive in the cemetery sounding better than sharing nuptials. This is not going to turn out well... She thought.

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Sara Callaway, along with her husband Mark Callaway, or as he was known around the village as the "Undertaker" for personal reasons, saw through the mansion windows of the carriage stopping in front of the entrance way. Ashley was the first to step out, placing a black veil upon her blonde hair. Amy, not far behind, snatched back the veil and scolding her for covering up her face like that.

"Mark," Sara said, placing a hand upon the windowsill. "What if the marriage doesn't go out well?"

"We're going to be okay," Mark said, looking back at an old portrait hanging on the walls. The portrait was of a young girl with flowing blonde hair and green eyes. She was dressed in a red dress with lace at the end of the sleeves and hemming. In her hands were a bouquet of white roses and a golden locket in the shape of a heart. Despite the idea they had of getting rid of the painting, none of them had the heart to do so. It was a picture of their eldest daughter Chasey, who died recently when she had drowned in the lake. Her body was recovered, but it was too late; even with the royal blood line that the Callaways carried, they didn't have the money to help. Instead, they had to bury her in the ground, the last thing they could do for her.

"But," Sara said, almost in tears. "I don't want another of our children to die! I don't want Gracie..." She literally broke down, sobbing upon her husband's chest. Mark placed a firm hand on his wife's shoulder as to help her calm down. "There are a lot of things that could go on...after all, Mark..."

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Sara:
It's a terrible day

Mark:
Now don't be that way

Sara:
It's a terrible day for a wedding.

Mark:
It's a sad, sad state of affairs we're in,

Sara:
That has led to this ominous wedding.

Mark:
How could our family have come to this?

Sara and Mark:
To marry off our son to the nouveau-rich.

Sara:
They're so common,

Mark:
So coarse.

Sara (sadly):
Oh, it couldn't be worse!

Mark
It couldn't be worse? I'm afraid I disagree.
They could be in land-rich bankrupt aristocracy,
without a penny to their name...just like you...and me.

Sara:
Oh, dear.

Sara and Mark:
And that's why everything, every last little thing,
every single tiny microscopic little thing must go...

Sara:
According to plan,

Mark:
Our son will wed.

Sara:
According to plan,

Mark
With our family lead,

Sara and Mark:
From the depths of deepest poverty,

Sara:
To the noble realm,

Mark:
Of our ancestors.

Sara and Mark:
And who'd have guessed in a million years that our son, with the face

Mark (sarcastically):
of a playboy in disgrace,

Sara and Mark
Would provide our ticket to our rightful place?

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In the upper floor of the mansion, the son, Paul London Callaway was preparing to get ready to meet with his wife. He was around the age of his late teens also, possibly 17, with black hair that had gone down to his shoulders, dark olive skin, a black tuxedo and tie, white dress shirt, black tuxedo pants, and polished black shoes. He never had a relationship with a girl before; he was afraid that this woman would hate his appearance, likewise to his parents' fair skin.

"Paul," A rough voice said, scaring away the thoughts from the Latino's mind. Paul turned around, seeing Mark's younger brother, Kane staring at him. The groom to be gave a soft smile as he stood up. Kane was living with Mark for since anyone could remember after both of their parents died in a fire. However, Kane was different; his father came from royal aristocracy, while his mother, who was also Mark's, was from the lower class. This caused him to be known as a traitor to both sides because of his heritage.

Right now, he was already dressed in a tuxedo with blood red lines streaming down through it, a white rose, unusual for him was pinned to the suit as a corsage. He was wearing black tuxedo pants, a larger version of Paul's, and black dress shoes. He smiled at the young husband to be, something that Paul still had not gotten used to after all these years.

"Hey there Kane," He said with a small bow. "So, has my bride appeared?"

"She has come, along with her surrogate parents of hers," Kane muttered. "Well, I must get down and get ready for the family. The last family that saw me, they immediately fled."

"Right," said Paul as he started to put a corsage right on his tuxedo. He didn't like fancy jewelry, but Sara and Mark insisted that he would wear it on the day of the wedding. It was of a small bouquet of roses encrusted with small emeralds, diamonds and rubies that could've saved them from their poverty; but was instead the gift that would bring two families together.

Paul only sighed as he straightened out his coat. With one more look in the mirror, he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

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"And remember," Amy said to Ashley. "Under no circumstance are you two suppose to meet."

"Yes, mom." Ashley said with some sarcasm. "I'll stay away from him. Can we just go now?"

"Right," Amy said, "If we don't go in, it'll be one minute longer for us to wait until you're married after all.."

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Amy:

Marriage is a partnership. A little tit-for-tat.
You'd think a lifetime watching us might have taught her that.

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"You're not married," Ashley interrupted. "You've been boyfriend and girlfriend for the last 7 years and you said you weren't going to marry until after I do."

"Shut the fuck up!" Adam said, slapping Ashley across the face. At this John got off the horse and stood in between the two.

"That's enough," He said in a serious tone. "Just finish that little thing you were doing before and get going." Ashley looked a bit in shock. Ever since John appeared at her doorstep just one year ago, she never saw him stand up to her father like that.

Suddenly, John started to cough harshly. Specks of blood came from the sides of his mouth. Ashley was very frightened every time this happened. It was like every time he coughed, he was losing a bit of his life, and there was nothing that she could do about it.

"Stop coughing right now!" Amy snapped. "Your poor man's blood is ruining our clothes!"

Adam didn't say anything, looking a bit frightened a bit seeing John's poor state of being. Suddenly he shook his head to get rid of his trance. Being nice, he removed his scarf and placed it around John's neck. It seemed to do the trick, he stopped coughing and started to breathe normally again.

"There." Adam muttered. "Now wait inside the carriage, we'll be back in a few hours."

"Yes sir." John said softly. He looked at Ashley and patted her shoulder, that soft smile creeping up his lips. "Good luck Ashley, you shouldn't waste an opportunity like this."

"John," said Ashley nervously. "What happened before you came to us?"

John sighed sadly, tears almost coming out of his eyes. As he opened his mouth, Adam interrupted him.

"Let's go, Ashley!" Adam said as John started to go back to the carriage.

"Coming," Ashley said, following her parents up the steps of the house.

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Adam:
Everything must be perfect

Amy:
Everything must be perfect

Adam
Everything must be perfect

Sara and Mark:
Everything must be perfect, perfect,

Adam, Amy, Sara and Mark:
That's why everything, every last little thing,
every single tiny microscopic little thing must go...According to plan!

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Amy pulled upon the knocker as Kane opened the door. He looked down at the three people and motioned them to enter.

As Ashley entered, her eyes wandered at the whole scenery. The floor was white marble that stretched upon the whole main hall disappearing upon the closed doors of many rooms. A black spiral staircase was at the far corner, having a wooden railing. All around were suits of armor, paintings of the ancestors of the house, Gothic windows and black faded satin curtains, and cobwebs sticking at many of the areas. To Ashley, it was a dream come true.

"Tacky, isn't it?" Adam said, out of the blue. He looked at Kane with look of pride. "Who the hell designed this place, Frankenstein?"

"No," Kane grumbled. "The person who designed this was actually a descendant of Victor Frankenstein; he was paid a mighty fee for helping to build our wonderful abode."

Mark and Sara, along with their daughter Gracie soon came down the stairs, both dressed int heir finest attire. Sara had her hair in beautiful curled ringlets, wearing a faded blue dress down to ankles and high heels. Her husband Mark was in his usual attire, well usual being a black trench coat and pants, along with boots and his signature black fedora. Gracie, who was holding onto her mother's arm, had her blonde hair in two pigtails, and had a dress of bright blue velvet on with a satin ribbon around her neck.

"Sara and Mark Callaway: Lord Adam Copeland and Lady Amy Dumas," Kane said introducing the two families.

"Um, excuse me." Ashley said, going up to Kane. "Who exactly are you?"

"He's my younger brother, Kane." Mark said, not caring if this information was going to be said. He then looked at Lita with some disgust at her appearance. "Well," He said. "If my son is going to marry the likes of you, he'd be better off with a prostitute."

Amy's face was filled abhorrence by that and Adam snarled looking like he was going to punch Mark right in the face. Both Kane and Ashley snickered at the comment while Sara jabbed her elbow right into her husband's ribs.

"Mark!" She said in a loud whisper. "Not in front of our daughter!" Mark looked down at Gracie who was staring back at him with wide eyes.

"Sorry," He said, gaining composure. "I meant to say that if you had more poise, elegance and etiquette then I could consider you to marry Paul."

"You're not marrying her," Adam said. He then pointed to Ashley, "You're letting your son marry that thing!"

"Hey!" Ashley said, feeling insulted. "I have feelings too, you know!"

"Excuse me," Sara said, interrupting the conversation. "But we must hurry this up, so all of us will be have our tea at the West dining room." She turned to Kane. "Will you please escort our guests there?"

Kane nodded and soon took Adam and Amy down the hallway while all three of the Callaways soon went en suite. Once they were no longer seen in her range of vision, Ashley sighed in relief; if there was one thing she hated more than dressing up, it was tea and constant chatter. Instead of going, she decided to stay and sit at the antique piano near the stairs.

It was an amazing model; the instrument's lid being a dark ebony and elevated, so Ashley was able to see all the hammers and strings of the invention. She loved playing the piano at home; it was the only thing that her parents considered good of her. Near the opening was a small, narrow vase that had in it a wilted carnation. Seating herself down, Ashley played an entire scale, lightly stroking the keys as she did. No one would mind, her parents wouldn't care as long as she didn't make a mistake.

Then, she closed her eyes and began to play. Her fingers danced upon the ivories as her thoughts started to soar through the keys. She couldn't recall the last time she played something like this, and yet it felt that it was a good time to do so. As she continued to play, she did not notice the light footsteps that started to come down the stairs. She was so busy being entranced by the music that she was making to notice. The melody started to become sadder and sadder, as Ashley became more lost in the feelings and emotions of her music. It wasn't until she was near the climax of the piece that she caught something in the corner of her eye.

"AHHH!" She screamed turning around. She stared right into the eyes of a man around her age with tan skin, black hair and brown eyes; for those few seconds they stared at each other, nearly lost in each other's eyes. Ashley then shook her head as she turned around.

"I'm sorry," She said. "I didn't mean to startle you. I didn't know that I would get an audience."

"That's okay," said Paul, seating himself, near her. "I didn't know my wife could play so beautifully." He placed his hand in hers. "I'm Paul London Callaway, and you are?"

"Ashley Marie Massaro." said the woman.

"That's a beautiful name." said Paul, smiling at her. When he saw the piano, he sighed sadly. "I wish I could play, but..."

"Your parents didn't think it was a good idea?" Ashley said, suggesting her idea.

"No," He answered. "It's so that they aren't reminded of their deceased daughter. She loved to hear our mom play the piano, but things haven't been the same after she fell in the lake."

Ashley gasped at that part; she heard the the Callaways—minus the son—were in tremendous financial suffering, but she never knew that they had two daughters. She bowed her head and stared at the piano keys. "I'm sorry," She said.

"Don't be." Paul said, patting her shoulder. "She's in a better place; one filled with sunshine, rainbows, and rabbits. She can always wake up to a beautiful sunny sky, and all the rabbits would proclaim her as 'Chasey, Princess of the Bunnies'."

Ashley looked up at him, and their eyes truly met. Chocolate brown onto ocean blue gazed and mixed with one another, as Paul placed his hands on Ashley's once more. Their noses were so close that they were barely touching, as they leaned in closer...

"What impropriety is this?!" A shrill voice said to awaken from their trance. The bride and groom looked at the person who yelled at them in surprise, both of them seeing Lady Dumas with anger on her face.

"Damn it." Ashley said staring at Amy. "Before you say anything, I didn't start it."

"I don't care who did!" She cried out. "It's one minute until the wedding rehearsal and you're not ready!"

Ashley snarled at this; what she hated even more than tea parties was being told that she was not ready and being told how long she had left by her guardians.

"Pastor Michaels is already prepared," Dumas said, her voice less harsh and less shrill. "Let us go upstairs and rehearse at once."

Knowing that both of them could not escape the fate that was given to them, the soon to be couple started to follow Lady Dumas down the hallway into the room; being drawn like nails to magnet.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Well, that's it for now! Read and review please!