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The Worst Best Man
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Hansel Graves woke with a raspy cough and a ripping headache. His memory was hazy, blended into a swirling mess of light and sound, of movement and poor choices. The night before, he had gone out drinking with a number of friends, though the lucky man today had sat it out. He coughed again, hating how it made his ribs ache. Today was the day his best friend of twenty years, Nelsen Veers, was getting married, and as the best man, he had more responsibility upon his shoulders than he had since he was the varsity captain in high school. He rubbed his face and stood, suppressing his terrible embarrassment over having fallen asleep in a back alley.
Though I could've done without that bizarre smothering dream, he thought, walking away with a slight limp and a slamming headache. His hangover was getting to him, but he couldn't roll over in a bed and try to sleep it off. Hansel coughed again, grimacing at the soreness. And I should probably see someone about my chest.
Had Hansel glanced back at where he had spent the night, he would've noticed an odd, crab-like creature upon its back akin to a dead spider, and a large, leather object that had peeled open like the flower of spring.
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Hansel reached his apartment at a quarter after nine, three voicemails stacked in his inbox and over twenty messages from both texts and social media DMs. His cough had faded some, though his headache persisted. The ache in his chest lingered, but he assumed it was just a product of his coughing. It would heal after a good night's sleep, though that couldn't come until after the wedding. After chugging down on a full bottle of water and popping back a few ibuprofen, he stumbled to his bedroom and undressed.
Twenty minutes later, he was showered and dressed, applying a hint of aftershave to his thankfully unbruised face. His tuxedo would be waiting at the wedding facility, which amounted to a third-floor hallway with a few rooms in the cathedral annex. Nelsen's girl, Bernadine Connors, had attended the same Catholic Church since she was born, and given Nelsen had agreed to convert from his Lutheran upbringing to her fancy brand of Christianity, it made sense for the wedding to take place there.
Hansel had flubbed off the idea of a god back during his undergrad years, but wouldn't outright call himself an atheist. There had to be something else.
His phone buzzed, NELSEN flashing on the screen. He answered, switching over to _ as he shouted, "Hey! Got utterly trashed last night. I'll be leaving my apartment in a few."
On the other side, Nelsen sighed. "Fine, but hurry over. Annalise is up in arms over your absence and Bernadine has decided to take her cousin's side."
Hansel grimaced. Why Annalise Connors-Tollins was picked to be the Maid of Honor was a mystery he doubted would ever be solved. The prickly, abrasive woman had a way of forcing her ideas and intentions wherever she wished. Not even Nelsen's begging and pleading and oral had convinced Bernadine to go with someone else.
"Tell your wifey's bitch cousin to eat a fat one. I'll be there in twenty. Thirty if the traffic is bad."
"Yeah yeah. I'll let her know exactly what you think of her. See ya in a bit."
The line clicked dead before Hansel could reply. "Dick," he muttered, dropping the hand holding his phone. He tried to glare at his phone, but the call screen transitioned to his home screen. It was a photo of him and his family—mother and father who had weathered a potential divorce, his younger siblings, and the Nigerian exchange student whose family was going to come to visit in a few weeks.
He pocketed his phone, double-checked he had his wallet and keys, and left his apartment. While heading down to the carport, Hansel rubbed at his chest, as a spike of what he guessed was heartburn. With one hand on the handle and another pulling out his phone, he muttered, "Siri. Send an email to my doc for an appointment next week. Sooner is better than later."
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A valet hustled over to the door of Hansel's BMW as he pulled up to Saint Magdalene's Catholic Church. The man was opening the door right before Hansel could reach over. He nodded to the valet, putting the car into park and climbing out. "Don't scratch the paint and no joyriding," he said, slapping a roll of tens into the valet's hand. He had counted out $150, knowing high tips got the best care for his car.
"Understood," the valet said, unrolling the wad to count as he climbed into the BMW. Hansel didn't trouble to glance back as he started up the left-hand steps. The church was a marvel of a neo-Gothic façade, financed by some Hollywood Catholic as Bernadine once told it. That had been in the days when she and Nelsen were finally going steady and he accepted that maybe his best friend had found a girl worthy of him.
He was still proud of his friend, even if there was a frustrating twinge of envy in his gut. Or maybe that was whatever lingered from the hangover he had woke up with. Hansel rubbed his face as he started up the wide, shallow steps up to the church. His memories of the prior night were still hazy and the weird dream of smothering seemed to be melting into them.
"Bugger me," he grumbled, reaching an open door on the left side of the church. He reached out to grab it. The door pulled away from him and a scowling Annalise stood on the other side.
"About fucking time you showed up, Hansel Wallens. Care to explain where you've been?"
He sneered back. "Hangover. Woke up in an alley."
She smirked, then began to giggle. Annalise raised a thin, manicured hand before her mouth as she shook her head. "I should be less surprised that you would do so. You're what, thirty?"
"Twenty-nine," Hansel grumbled, looking away. "Just turned twenty-nine, as well."
"Uh huh." Annalise sighed. "If you hadn't been friends with Nelsen since you were kids, I'd ask why he would ever consider you worthwhile as his best man. How Bernadine can put up with you is beyond me."
"I'd say the same as well."
Annalise smiled sweetly. "I'm family."
Hansel didn't have a reply to that, so he instead pushed past her and into the church. He didn't need her assistance in finding where Nelsen would be, preparing for the wedding. There should still be a couple of hours until the ceremony and all he would need to do was to change into a suit and escort his best friend to the head of the chamber where the marriage ceremony would occur.
He took a narrow staircase up to the third floor and turned left, following a nondescript hallway past a few bland, wood doors to one with a sign hanging from it which read: 'The Groom & Party'. Hansel pushed through the door and had several accusing looks shot in his direction.
"About fucking time," grumbled James, as tall as a linebacker yet skinnier than a high school track star. "We were nearly gonna have you replaced and tell Bernie to sideline one of her girls."
"Eat dicks, asshole," Hansel replied. "You were there last night."
"Yeah, and you went off and disappeared. We looked around the place for you, but nothin' came up."
"You at least get laid?" asked Mathieu, his Quebec accent remarkably light.
Hansel hesitated for several seconds, even glancing back to ensure the door had closed behind him. "I ended up passing out in the back alley."
"Not there," another shouted. Hansel couldn't see him nor did he recognize the voice at the moment. "We looked for you right behind Why Not's. You weren't there, Hansel."
He blinked, frowning. Hansel grimaced slightly, feeling an ache in his chest. He turned away, coughing slightly, but nothing came up.
"You all right?" asked Nelsen. The groom, dressed handsomely in his tuxedo, made his way over to where Hansel stood. "You look a bit rough…"
"I'll be fine," Hansel said, waving off his friend's concern. "I have a doctor's appointment set up for next week."
Nelsen frowned. Staring at Hansel for several seconds before sighing. "I'll trust you, since we've been friends for so long, but I don't want you forcing yourself to do something that'll hurt you."
"Thanks, man."
"Don't thank me yet," Nelsen warned. "If you ruin this day in the slightest, Bernadine will have your hide and I won't defend you from her. Anyone else, sure. But not her."
And there goes bros before hoes, Hansel thought, less bitter than he might have been a year ago. Then again, he is getting himself a wifey. Maybe I should put some actual effort into that instead of just banging dumb co-eds.
"Yeah, yeah," Hansel said, grinning. "Keep everything perfect for the Missus on her special day."
Nelsen glared, lacking heat as his lips fought to not twitch upwards. Hansel counted it as a victory and made his way towards where his own suit as best man would be hanging. He rubbed his chest, feeling an odd ache, but quickly forgot it as his stomach rumbled like a growling Rottweiler.
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Around 1:50 pm, Nelsen headed down to the main chamber where the wedding would actually take place. The rest of them remained in the upper level, tasked with escorting the bridesmaids and in Hansel's particular case, the maid of honor. He had developed a slight cough, nothing that couldn't be suppressed with some cold medicine and a drink. The bride's father had given him an odd look when he threw back a mouthful of brandy a bit after one, though Hansel hoped it was only jealousy.
The man had never liked Nelsen and for no real discernable reason beyond irrational hatred of any boy his little girl brought home. Hansel thought the man, with his large belly and dragging jowls, looked more like a drunkard than anyone respectable.
At least he has a decent suit, Hansel thought, crossing paths with the father as he waited upon Annalise. Were it not for tradition, they would walk to the altar to stand beside the bride and groom separately.
"Everyone!" shouted a woman, her face molting into trickling wrinkles. It took Hansel a few minutes to remember she was the wedding planner Nelsen and Bernadine had been duped into hiring. "Everyone, form up now. The ceremony begins in five minutes. You all need to be ready to hit your mark!"
She continued prattling, speaking to whoever might listen. Hansel tuned her out, nearly rolling his eyes at how the woman tried to get in the face of a trio of gossiping bridesmaids. He'd be near the end of the procession, and would have to put up with Annalise and Bernadine's father up to the moment they entered the ceremonial hall.
If none of them spoke to him, it would be a small miracle in itself. He had enough of people speaking to him, or so for now. Nelsen had done nothing but smirk as Hansel was subjected to verbal teasing and mockery for going off on his own the prior night and being a great enough drunkard, only for a night, to pass out in an alley.
A bell elsewhere in the church chimed twice, a faint ring despite the proximity, and the wedding planner began forcing them into the pairs they would go down the aisle in. Annalise glanced at him, flaring her nostrils as though his smell from that morning was lingering. Hansel had put a great deal of effort towards washing away the stink and smell, so her reaction was pure dislike. Hatred. Something along those lines, or so he assumed.
As the little rumbling chatter they could all hear faded away into organ music, Hansel rubbed his chest. The aches he had been feeling all day had gotten a bit worse, yet the sensation faded as quickly as it came. Annalise gave him a pointed look, to which he hissed, "Don't worry about it."
"Just remember your place."
He sneered at the comment, but said nothing. Annalise raised her nose high, as though she were superior to him.
One by one, the coupled pairs of groomsmen and bridesmaids followed the corridor, down a stairwell, and out of sight. From there, Hansel knew, they would head down the center aisle to where Nelsen would be waiting for his bride and for the wedding ceremony to properly begin. The arrival of the bride and groom parties was nothing more than prologue and fanfare.
They slowly followed the last pair which would go before them, shifting first down the hallway, then down the stairwell two levels, and finally into a side passage of the cathedral proper.
Annalise forced them to stop right before the door into the main chamber, muttering to herself as she counted down from fifteen. Around four, Hansel rubbed his chest, feeling the ache in ribs more than ever. It settled into merely being sore as they turned the corner and entered the chamber.
Music washed over him as Hansel felt small under the gazes of hundreds of people. He had understood that the main cathedral chamber would be filled, but it was something to enter and pass through that very filled chamber. His skin itched with their gazes upon him, but he ignored it thanks to Annalise's presence.
His ribs ached again, worse than before. He grimaced, fully aware of where he was. In the future, it would be amusing to watch him grimace while heading down the aisle at the beginning of the wedding, but Hansel doubted anyone would notice right now. Their attention would likely be focused on the maid of honor at his side, or already looking back towards the doorway where the bridge would soon be coming through.
They separated before the altar, where Nelsen waited for his bride. The best friends gave each other slight nods and Hansel made his way to his post. He crossed his hands, and waited as the music swayed from the band music that had come with the initial arrivals into the bridal march everyone expected.
Hansel glanced at Nelsen as Bernadine reached the halfway mark down the aisle. His friend was beaming, likely having gotten over whatever shock and awe he first experienced, seeing his bride in white. He wouldn't begrudge the groom for thinking so, for the dress and veil gave Bernadine a mystical quality that made something in his gut tighten.
All eyes were upon her and several in the crowd appeared to already be weeping.
Hansel drifted in and out throughout the ceremony. He paid well enough attention that he didn't butcher or fail his duties as the Best Man, yet he couldn't find the energy to focus upon what the priest said. The ache in his chest didn't fade, but it didn't get worse. Even when he handed over the rings, there was no twitch or twinge of pain.
Just a long, continuing soreness.
He was, though, alarmingly hungry. His stomach hadn't growled, thankfully, but Hansel was wishing he could've had a few more of those mini croissants with cheese and ham. He had stuffed a few in his mouth, leaning over to keep the flakey breading from getting onto his suit. Frankly, he couldn't think of a time since he was seventeen and a starter on the varsity football team when he was this hungry.
The end of the wedding finally came about, done in the traditional manner. Nelsen and Bernadine went with traditionally Catholic vows, blubbering about duty and love and honor and a half dozen other old virtues. Hansel barely listened to them, but paid enough attention to hear them both confirm their vows with a simple, "I do."
The priest finally said, "You may kiss your bride."
Hansel joined the crowd in clapping and cheering for the happy couple. A smile crossed his face as Nelsen slipped in for a second kiss, chuckling as his new wife gave him a playful slap. After a moment of staring happily into each other's eyes, they turned and headed down the aisle, hand in hand.
As with their arrival, he left the chamber at Annalise's side. They followed right behind the happy couple, well aware from the planning and practice events that they would need to help get them to the reception site without too much trouble.
The next half-hour passed in a flurry as they traveled from the cathedral to a fancy manor estate on the north side of the city. It was tucked away in one of the fancier neighborhoods and was, as Hansel heard it said following their arrival, a wedding gift. Bernadine had been aware for years she was inheriting it once she married, long enough that any worry Hansel might have had that she had only married Nelsen for her inheritance was suppressed. His friend looked a little put out, but was impressed by the washed white pillars and façade, along with the red bricks, baking in the summer heat.
The wide backyard, more of a field than a proper yard, had already been set up with tables under a wide pavilion, most circular except for the table for the happy couple and their closest. They started for it, Hansel and Annalise taking their proper sides instead of having to stick near each other for the benefit of the happy couple.
As they approached their seats, Hansel rubbed his chest. The ache in his ribs was getting worse, oddly enough. It didn't seem like anything was wrong with him, but if it got worse, then he'd have to consider flaking out. Nelsen would give him hell if he continued to suffer on his friend's account, even if skipping the tradition of the Best Man's speech would dampen both of their spirits. Hansel had put a good deal of effort and time into writing it, even getting help from his parents.
(He would never admit his sister had looked it over. She had politely rejected the invitation, too busy in Europe with research for some absurd history of coloured folk during the Middle Ages. Hansel still cannot help but wonder why she cares about such a pedantic topic.)
The catering team arrives shortly after them, setting up shop both at the far end of the pavilion and under their own tent, designed to better handle the process of cooking up the hundreds of meals necessary for the reception. The cake would arrive when it would arrive, as fresh as possible.
Hansel's stomach finally grumbled, growling like a feral thing left to wander unfamiliar woods. He had been growing hungrier and hungrier during the ceremony, but now it's reached a level he didn't know was possible. Between the hunger and his aching ribs, he couldn't really say what illness he had. The coughing had faded entirely, though now that he thought about it, Hansel has a glimmer of a memory. There had been something after stumbling into the alley, having gone the wrong way while searching for the bathroom.
Movement, and then he dreamed of being smothered.
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When the first guests began to arrive in earnest, Hansel was busy washing his face. A cold sweat had randomly broken out, and after a few attempts to get a sample of the dinner, he was beginning to feel off. It helped some, but his hunger remained and his chest ached worse. Nelsen had given him a long, worried look earlier, but said nothing without being distracted by someone else.
Hansel wouldn't admit it aloud, but he was concerned about how he was feeling. Within the span of a day, he had gone from a slight ache and a bit of coughing to swinging wildly between hunger and pain. Apparently one of Nelsen's doctor uncles was in attendance, so he'd take a chance to speak with the man. He might get an ambulance called out this way, but it would be better than continuing to suffer in silence.
Man, I'm a mess, he thought, drying his face off with a towel.
His stomach gurgled lightly. It was better than having it release a ravenous roar, though embarrassing nonetheless. The main meal would be served before the speeches, so Hansel knew it wouldn't be an issue once his turn to speak about Nelsen and Bernadine came up.
Annalise was waiting for him outside of the bathroom, arms crossed and lips pursed tightly. He glanced at her, sighed, and walked past towards the filling pavilion. She followed in his wake, her presence enough to cow him into a speedy return to the table they shared with the happy couple.
He rubbed his chest, as the ache suddenly got worse. Hansel's mind spiraled as he tried to figure out what might be wrong with him. He couldn't think of anything that would cause pain like this beyond pneumonia or another disease that struck the lungs, like the flu or even a nasty cold. And yet he had no chills, no sneezing, not even a headache or fever.
Really need to speak with someone about it.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" asked Annalise about half way back. He hadn't realized she had sped up to walk beside him instead of trailing behind.
"Nothing you need to worry about," Hansel shot back, glowering. "I'll talk with one of Nelsen's doctor uncles, then get a second opinion in the morning. It'll be fine."
A doubtful snort spoke more of her opinion on the matter than honest words. Angry words simmered up, but were stopped by a painful ache in his chest. His heartbeat erratically and for a moment, he struggled to breathe. He grimaced, groaning, but kept moving as though nothing had happened. Not only did Hansel have a speech to give, but he wanted to see off Nelsen and his bride for their happy honeymoon.
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Annalise scowled, remembering how Hansel Graves ate like a ravenous, slovenly beast. The food wasn't even good enough to justify eating it with anything beyond the simple wish to not allow food to waste or spoil. Bernadine and her husband, Nelsen, both appeared put off by the best man's eating as well, though neither had the gall to say anything.
Not that I'm better, she thought bitterly, downing half a glass of chardonnay. She'd need to begin pacing herself if she wanted to avoid getting blitzed enough to do something monumentally stupid. Annalise still remembered the morning after her cousin's wedding, back when she was twenty and immensely willful.
That might be the worst morning of my life.
"He's been odd all day," someone suddenly said.
Annalise turned in the direction of the voice and frowned slightly at Nelsen and Bernadine. While she had only recently accepted their relationship, she still had her doubts about her cousin's new husband. He wasn't a bad man, but the connections he maintained pushed him forward as much as they held him back.
Admittedly, the most obvious of those connections was his best friend-best man. From what she understood, they had met in grade school and remained close all the way into adulthood and through college.
He rubbed his chest as they returned to the high table where the happily married couple sat, feeding each other bits of leftovers. Annalise frowned, watching as a grimace briefly crossed Hansel's face. She was a moment away from calling for an ambulance, but held herself back for Bernadine. Having one show up now, especially before the speeches and the first dance and the cake and the other odd rituals would ruin their frustratingly fragile relationship.
They reached their seats, placed on the corresponding side of the bride and groom. Nelsen spoke quietly with Hansel, a barely concealed tone of frustration ebbing over from them.
"Nelsen's been worried all day," Bernadine confessed to Annalise. "With whatever happened last night and then today, I fear we'll need to call an ambulance before the night is over."
"I was thinking along the same lines," Annalise grumbled. "And the way he ate earlier…"
Bernadine giggled. "He's never been the most polite eater. My parents noticed and were quite…outraged."
"Good."
Her cousin was about to say something else when a loud, hoarse cough caught their attention. They looked over and saw that Hansel appeared to be choking on something. Nelsen was upon his feet, trying to turn his friend around, and Annalise barely noticed his medical relatives rushing over to help.
Hansel twisted, back pressing against the table as he strained against…something. Annalise took an instinctive step back, terror burning in her veins with every pounding thump of her heart. She had been ignoring that intuition burning in her gut that they should've replaced him with another of the groomsmen and sent him to a hospital, and it was proving to have been right.
One relative finally reached them, rushing over. He was bewildered, hair lightly frizzing. "The hell is going on?"
"I don't know," Nelsen said, trying to restrain his best friend. "He started choking, I think. Whatever it is, it's been affecting him all day. Said he was going to see a doctor tomorrow."
"Damned hells," the relative grumbled. He grabbed a spoon and forced it between Hansel's teeth, so he could bite at the metal without tearing into his tongue or cheeks. "Any clue what—"
The doctor was cut off by Bernadine's scream. Annalise nearly screamed as well, having seen the same thing her cousin saw: an unnatural bulge in Hansel's chest. He screamed, a gut-curdling sound that undersold the horror occurring before them. His body twitched, limbs flailing as blood stained his starched dress shirt a blooming crimson.
The bulging came again, followed by the crack of ribs. Hansel's scream was smothered as he gagged upon something. The doctor's press against the tortured man loosened, and he flailed one last time.
With the third bulge, the skin gave way and a small beast emerged. It was pink under the blood that stained its smooth, eyeless face. The thing turned towards those gathered nearby, silvery teeth glinting under the artificial lights. It hissed, menacing despite its small size, and then took flight. A pink streak, nearly as long as Annalise's arm, shot off, leaving a bloody trail as it plunged into the dark grass nearby.
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Happy Halloween!
Other authors involved in this year's event include: NekoPantera, Alastair, Kairomone, Phoenixreal, Tartarun, AsgardianHobbit98, SerenaJones585, PhantomGypsy13, GustavonkaLondon, TsukikoUchu, ZoroSharingan, and i_am_kira