Chapter 3

Victor stares at the woman in his arms, confused, dark coffee brown gazing into searching pale blue. Something is oddly familiar about her, but he can't quite place it. Straightening up, he takes a step back to get a better look at her.

"Excuse me, have we met?"

The woman's brows draw together in confusion for a moment; then she chuckles. "Oh, silly me, I can't very well expect you to recognize me when I look so different." Her lips, full, pink petals, form a tiny smile. "But you must remember."

She drifts past him, softly humming a hauntingly beautiful melody, a melody that caresses Victor like the soothing embrace of an old friend. He knows this melody so well. He must be dreaming, or old memories have resurfaced and are now bent on torturing him.

"Come here, Victor."

That voice… Victor can feel its light, airy timbre drawing him near, the way it once did when what now seems an eternity ago. His steps, though hesitant, carry him towards what he's afraid will vanish in an instant if he acknowledges his suspicions. Maybe, if he carries on within this delirium for a little while longer, it will be enough to move him through his dreary life.

He stops at her side, and follows her dreamy gaze up towards the moon, shining opalescent white. He'd almost forgotten how beautiful the sky looks at night, having only seen it from his window lately.

"Look at me, Victor." she says. "Look at me, and try to remember."

She faces him, and it's only when she's bathed in the moonlight, giving her pale skin a bluish hue, that he finally sees her.

Hardly daring to believe it, he reaches out and cups her cheek, running the pad of his thumb gently across the creamy flesh. Tears begin to form in his eyes, and he feels as if his very heart is breaking. She feels so real.

"Is it… is it really you?" he asks, so afraid of the answer his words sound choppy.

She laughs again, and it's such a melodious sound Victor is almost sure it's her, but he needs to hear her say it.

"Yes, Victor, it is."

Those four little, yet crucial, words are all he needs to hear. He wraps his arms around Emily and pulls her close, hugging her to his chest, trembling. She is alive and she is warm and she is real and she is here, with him.

— — — — — — — — — — —

Victoria dries her eyes and sets about putting away the leftovers. It's her fault, really. She shouldn't have gone off on him like that. Yet, she can't help it sometimes. Victor always seems ready to get away from her, retreating to his study doing God-knows-what up there and only coming down when she called him. He used to ask her to go out on the town with him, but she had always declined. She was never one to leave the house regularly, preferring to stay indoors most of the time. Now she regrets her rejections, thinking maybe he would be more amiable to her had she accepted.

She misses Emily. This seems odd coming from her, since the corpse bride had once been engaged to her husband and nearly killed him all because he accidentally proposed to her while rehearsing his vows. However, after spending some time with her, Emily was the only person who made her feel as if she was being understood. She was the closest thing Victoria had ever experienced to a best friend. If she were here, maybe she could help.

— — — — — — — — — — —

Victor sits by the lake, gazing up at the stars, Emily's head nestled against his shoulder. A gentle breeze blows through his hair, ruffling the black crop. A few crickets chirp softly. When was the last time he felt such bliss? He does not want to return home.

"So, how is Victoria?"

Victor inwardly winces. This moment was so perfect without a reminder about the way he'd hurt his wife. The way he is still hurting his wife.

"She's… well." Is all Victor can manage without lying completely.

It doesn't matter, because Emily sees right through him. "What's wrong?" she asks. She lifts her head from his shoulder, shifting to look at him.

Victor stares into his lap, trying to ignore her question. He doesn't want to tell her how unhappy he's been. How unhappy they both have been.

Emily sighs. "I've missed you Victor, but I do wish you'd tell me what's going on." She pauses, considering something. "If you won't tell me, I'll ask Victoria."

Victor knows hiding it from her is a feeble attempt, but he doesn't feel ready to admit anything yet. He changes the subject.

"Have you got anywhere to stay?"

Emily gives him a look that tells him this conversation is far from over, but she'll drop it for now. She shakes her head. "No. I haven't been here very long."

Victor rises, pulling Emily up with him. "Stay with us, then." he says, excitement forming in his eyes.

Emily looks skeptical. "Are you sure that'll be alright?"

"Of course!" he says earnestly.

Emily's face softens. "Well, alright then."

— — — — — — — — — — —

A ghostly hand pushes up through the ground, reflexively pulling back at the chill of the night air. A second hand follows, pulling up the rest of the body. Dirt rolls off silk clad shoulders back into the hole of its origin.

Eyes follow the retreating figures, and a sinister smirk spreads across marred features. A single thought forms.

Soon.

— — — — — — — — — —

I know, I know. The story is moving pretty slow so far. I promise it'll pick up momentum soon! :3