A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews and support! I hope my story continues to please you!

Please check out my profile! ASMxHF on tumblr drew a wonderful picture for this fanfic. However, Fanfiction is being a butt and I can't show you the entire thing. I have the URL on my profile since FF is being stupid and not linking to it. It is on my tumblr blog for this story: writeanddrawthis.

And warning: This chapter has mentions of sexual themes and assault.

I welcome any new readers! Enjoy!

"Oh my Darling." 'The Groom' sighed blissfully while dragging me away from the locker that held Waylon captive. "You smell heavenly."

I said nothing. Fear was lodged into my throat, so all I could do was let him drag me away like a ragdoll. As Waylon's locker grew smaller and smaller, it felt like my only chance at survival was also diminishing.

'Snap out of it, Young-ja! Move your arms, dammit!'

He took me into a small room with chains and metal bars jutting from the ceiling. It looked some sort torture room, and I felt my heart drop to the floor.

The moment he loosened his grip, I raced to the other side of the room and hid behind a fallen locker.

"Now, now, there is no need to be bashful, Darling." 'The Groom' cooed, waltzing towards me with his arms out.

"G-Get away from me!" I blindly searched behind me for anything to protect myself with. The patient's song still rung in my head, and that terrible thought bloomed in my brain once again.

'Is he going to butcher me too?'

"I know you don't mean that. Now, come here." He roughly pulled me away from my hiding spot by the arm before whipping me around and pinning me against his chest once again. "There is something I must check first."

My breath hitched in my throat when I felt one of his hands slowly slide down my cheek and towards my neck.

"Such soft skin." He said so gently, but it made me want to throw up. I wanted nothing more than to tear his hands off and bleach my skin.

But I couldn't.

I was too petrified by what he could do while I was at his mercy. That knife was still in his grip, pressed against my abdomen like a warning to not upset him. And even if I didn't, there was no guarantee I would come out of this place unscathed…..or alive.

His hand drifted lower and lower until it was right over my breast, then all was still.

It seemed like he was thinking about something, which made me panic more. Was he going to kill me now? Drag me back to that blood-covered surgery bed and slice me into pieces like the many others before?

The silence and my thoughts were broken when 'The Groom' suddenly turned me around and forced me to stare into his eyes.

Before, I could only inspect his outline or part of his features due to the poor lighting. Now in proper lighting, I could see him perfectly. He appeared to be a middle-aged man with an array of blisters and skin peelings littering the right side of his face. The blood vessels in his once blue eyes were all popped, rendering them completely bloodshot. And he towered over me like a giant, making me feel weak and insignificant.

Then, I realized how powerless I was when 'The Groom' pushed me onto the damp ground with ease before climbing on top of me.

"H-Hey!"

"Pardon me, Darling. But I have to check something first." He lifted his knife up to the collar of my shirt before slicing the fabric down my navel.

"NO!" I flailed around, trying to stop him, and my heels rammed against his temple, stunning him for a moment.

"Ngh!" He eased back and clutched the right side of his face.

Seizing the moment, I scrambled out from under him and flew out of the door.

"Get back here, you bitch!" He shouted after me, which confirmed my fear that the charming exterior was just that-an exterior.

"Gotta get out here. Gotta get out of here."

I leaped over a fallen table and back towards open area where Waylon was. The moment the locker came into my line of vision, I practically plastered myself onto the door and banged on it furiously.

"Waylon! Goddamit! Wake up! Wake the fuck up now!" I cried, hearing 'The Groom's' footsteps echoing down the hallway. "Please! Waylon, you promised me we'd get out together, so wake up!"

But my screaming and banging did nothing.

Waylon was out cold, and the footsteps were growing louder and louder.

So, with a heavy heart, I told Waylon I was sorry before running away.

'Please forgive me, Waylon. But I'm no good to you or Miles dead. I promise to come back for you though. So, please, hold on until then!'

I had no idea where I was going, but if it got me away from that creep, then I was fine.

'The Groom's' tone was no longer angry or threatening.

No, now he was…..singing to me?

When I was a boy my mother often said to me: "Get married, son, and see how happy you will be."

I have looked all over, but no girlie can I find, who seems to be just like the little girl I have in mind;

I will have to look around until the right one I have found.

That song.

It was a popular barbershop quartet-like song from 1911 by Harry Von Tilzer and William Dillon.

Why this song though?

A song about a boy with an Oedipus complex.

Could….could this man be turning his victims into images of his mother before killing them?

I shivered at the thought and continued treking down the dark hallway, trying to keep my steps as light as possible.

"Darling," His voice bounced off the empty walls. "it is only natural to have pre-wedding jitters! If you come back and apologize, I'm willing to forgive you."

'Apologize? Like Hell I will!'

A vent louver hung from the ceiling nearby, so I quickly hopped up and climbed in.

It squeaked under my weight, and I froze in place, hoping I didn't give away my position.

Moments later, 'The Groom' passed under the vent's opening and I saw him glancing left and right.

"Y'know, Darling." He called out, his tone mockingly sweet. "A good wife is supposed to listen to her husband. I promise to be good to you if you are good to me."

I wanted to lean over and puke on his deformed, sexist head.

'What does he think this is? The 1950's?'

"That hole in your heart. I can fill it with love and nourishment; just give me a chance to be a wonderful husband to you and father to our children."

My heart stopped at the mention of children, and then I really felt like throwing up.

'Oh God, I definitely can't let him catch me now.'

After standing there for a moment longer, 'The Groom' continued down the hallway, whistling a tune.

Once I was sure the coast was clear, I dropped out of the squeaky vent and back on the floor.

There had to be an exit somewhere nearby. I thought if I could retrace my steps, I'd find my way back to the roof.

But, as I surveyed my surroundings, it dawned on me that I was lost.

Completely and utterly lost.

"Fuck." I hissed under my breath. "What now?"

I could still hear 'The Groom' singing in the distance, so I decided to dart into a nearby room and plan my next move there.

All of the windows in this room were boarded up with only the tiny streams of moonlight slipping through the cracks as my source of light. I placed my hands on the wall and carefully made my way into the room, searching to something-anything- to hide under if 'The Groom' happened to walk by.

Luckily, in the poor lighting, I could spot a tiny cabinet like the one in the record's room in the Administration Block and crawled inside it.

Once I secured the door behind me, I allowed myself to breathe for the first time in a while.

And, with that single breath, my body became a lead weight. I tried to think of a plan, but all I could do was lean my head against the wooden wall and stare into the darkness.

I knew.

I knew about the dangers that letting my guard down could bring in, but…..I didn't care.

My body felt so drained and empty, that all I wanted to do was sleep.

With heavy eyelids, I dung into my jacket pocket and pulled out my wallet. Even in the darkness, it could still make out the picture in the front slot.

It was a photograph of Miles and me on our wedding day. Miles had swept me up in his arms and was twirling around while I laughed and buried my face into his neck.

"Miles! Put me down, you dork! We still have to cut the cake!"

"But how can I?! I'm finally married to you, and I'm never letting go! Mwhaha!'

Then Sophia snapped our picture with a sappy grin and fawned over us.

That was one of the happiest days of my life.

Tears prickling at my eyes, I placed the photo against my chest and closed my eyes.

"Miles…."

(Miles)

"Fuck this place. Seriously, fuck this place." I cursed under my breath, backing away from the necromantic who was still calling me 'sick' and a 'pervert'. "Dying just keeps moving lower on the list of things that could happen to me."

Moving out of the shadows, I found myself in a hallway littered with the corpses of mangled security guards. It was like someone was trying to finger paint on the wall with their blood and innards.

"Poor bastards."

Whoever did this to them was long gone, and they locked all the doors behind them since I couldn't open a single fucking one.

The only route that remained open was the hallway to my right. Following it, I found myself on the other side of the Prison where that screaming patient was.

Recalling the freaky twins on the other side, I slowly peered to my right, only to see the area empty.

'Shit, don't tell me they actually gave me a hard start. Fuck, this is like a morbid game of hide-and-seek.'

The pathway to the other side was demolished, save for half a foot of concrete jutting from the wall.

As carefully as possible, I placed my back to the wall and inched my way towards the other side.

The patients from before were still pacing around the ground floor, screaming about something crawling around their blood and minds.

'Damn, Murkoff really did a number on this people.'

Once I was safe on the other side, I tore down the hallway, only for a hand to shot through the metal bar and grab my wrist.

"What th-?!"

"You, ah, didn't wait until I finished. But I saved some for you." The man laughed, swinging my arm back and forth like a child. Taking a close look at his face, I realized it was the patient who set me free. "Just wait. Wait…"

Then he released me before giggling once more and racing down the stairs.

His hand was covered in some type of black powder that left a handprint on my wrist. No matter how hard I rubbed it, the mark wouldn't go away.

"I hope you didn't brand me for some psychotic sacrifice." I mumbled, flicking on my camcorder's night vision before pressing on.

At the next turn, I found a message scrawled on the wall in blood.

God Always Provides A Way

Follow The Blood

"A message from Father Martin?" I guess I know who's been finger painting with the blood then.

Something bubbled in my chest as the thought of following these blood messages left by a deranged 'priest', but at this point, what other choice did I have?

Before proceeding into the airlock on my left, I absentmindedly rubbed my bare left ring finger, thinking of the girl who has my rings and the woman who gave them to me.

"Young-ja…"

(Young-ja)

I don't know how long I sat in that dark, cramped cabinet. What was probably only twenty minutes felt like years. Trying to shake off my exhaustion, I attempted to formulate my next move.

'The Groom' was either still looking for me or moved onto his next victim, so I had to act quickly. Maybe I could find the elevator shaft and return to the roof. This building is connected to the Prison Block and Male Ward, so I could scale the tops until I reached that lookout tower on the Prison roof again. Hopefully, my backpack and bat would still be there. From that point, I could take myself to the Cell Block and rescue Miles, so we can rescue Waylon and get out of this place.

In truth, it wasn't a solid plan.

Hell, it wasn't even a smart plan, but it was all I could think of.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly made my way out of the tiny cabinet and crawled to my feet.

"Alright, now to get to t-Oh shit!" I gasped as I rammed into something, sending it toppling to the floor.

I waited with bated breath for 'The Groom' to burst into the room and haul me away to God knows where, but nothing happened.

Once I sure of my safety, I bent down and picked up what I had bumped into. In the terrible light, I couldn't make out what it was, but after running my hand over it a few times, I figured out it was a mannequin wearing some kind of linen dress.

"What is this doing here? It wasn't here bef-." My blood ran cold as I realized what this meant.

I whipped around when I heard laughter and spotted 'The Groom's' outline next to the cabinet.

"Done playing games, Darling?" He slowly waltzed over to me, that sinister grin on his face. "Good."

Then, the world went dark.

When I awoke, I was laying on a wooden table and 'The Groom' was tying my legs to a wooden post.

"W-what are you doing?!"

"I can't have you running away again, Darling." He cooed in that mockingly sweet tone. "After the wedding, I'm going to have to teach you so manners."

"Man-?"

I was suddenly cut off when he smacked me hard across the cheek, causing me to bite my tongue.

"Gah!"

"Do you whores enjoy causing me pain?" He barked, sneering down at me with cold eyes. "I've done nothing but love you. And how do you repay me? By running away!"

He smacked me again, this time drawing blood.

My face stung and my eyes burned with tears, but I refused to let him see me cry. No, I wasn't going to give this bastard the satisfaction.

"You filthy, ungrateful bitch! Am I not good enough for you?! No, I'm not apparently since you've been sleeping with another man!"

"Wh-?!"

"Don't try to hide it!" He punched me hard, causing blood to spurt from my nose. "Ugh! What a hideous sight to behold." 'The Groom' spat at me before whipping out something from a table nearby. "I'm talking about this!"

It was the wedding photo, and I felt my heart clench in my chest.

"That.." I gurgled, blood following into my mouth. "That…is my husband."

"Liar!" He hit me again, this time blood flowing from my temple. "I'm your husband, you whore! Not this bastard!"

Then, he ripped the photo into shreds, and I could feel my heart shatter along with it.

However, I didn't say a word, just bit my lip and tried to hold back the tears.

"Now," His charming tone had returned, and he caressed my cheek, as if he didn't just smash my heart into pieces. "shall we continue?"

He grabbed a pair of surgical scissors and climbed on top of me once more.

And this time, I couldn't fight back.

All I could do was scream and beg him to stop as this man-this monster-sliced off my clothes piece by piece. Of all the monsters I've come across in this asylum, this man was the worst of them all.

Why not Walker or the Twins or the several other patients that have posed a threat to me?

Why 'The Groom'?

It was because this man, this 'Groom', was real.

This was the man who your parents warned you about; the man you always saw on the news who raped and murdered numerous of girls; the man who lured you in with sweet words before showing his true colors; the man who cat calls you and is furious when you reject his 'affections'.

The man you thought you'd never meet.

The man you thought you were immune from.

"I wasn't wrong." He gasped, staring down at my naked body. "You're perfect. Nothing vulgar…just beautiful."

He took my breasts in his hands and stroked them as I screamed my lungs out.

"PLEASE STOP! STOP IT!" I was no longer attempting to hide my tears, and I struggled against my restraints to no avail.

"No need to play coy." He chuckled, leaning down and kissing down my neck. "I know you want this, so drop the act."

"NO! I DON'T! STOP TOUCHING ME!" The ropes dung into my wrists painfully, drawing blood with every movement. "STOP IT RIGHT NOW!"

He didn't stop; he kept touching me with those vile hands like I was so object to be admired.

And I couldn't do a thing.

"PLEASE! SOMEONE HELP ME!" I cried, the tears coming faster and faster as his hand went in between my legs. "MILES! MILES!"

"Shut up!" 'The Groom' covered my mouth, his breath ghosting over my face. "A good wife knows when to be silent. Now, I promise we will consummate our love after the wedding." He crawled off the table with a grin. "Don't worry. I'm just as eager as you. Now, be a good girl and wait here."

Then he left.

And I laid on the table, naked and dirtied.

'He touched me. He touched me with his disgusting hands.'

I sobbed against my left arm, wishing someone would come and burn my body.

Burn away the feeling of that creature's hands against my skin, touching me against my will. But, no one came and granted me that kindness.

So I continued to lie there, sullied and broken in that cold, dark room.

"Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, Darling." 'The Groom' laughed as he re-entered the room with something white draped over his arm. "You're so excited, aren't you?"

He reached out towards me, and I flinched, whipping my head the other way.

"Aw, did I frighten you? I'm awfully sorry." I whimpered when a damp cloth was pressed against my face, scrubbing off the dried blood and tears. "It's just…you know how a man gets when he wants a woman."

"Fuck off.." I whispered, starting at Waylon's locker in the distance.

"That is something else I need to fix. A good wife and proper lady doesn't use such crude language." I felt him loosen the ties around my wrists and ankles. Once they were free, I let them plop down on the wooden table like dead weights. I could see how raw my wrists were, and I closed my eyes as they throbbed against the cool air.

"Now, it is time for the blushing bride to put on her wedding dress." He unfurled the bundle on his arm to show off a white wedding gown with a train.

I thought back to the sketches I found in that room and felt bile rise in my throat when I realized he was the one who drew them.

"Up, up, Darling." He patted the wooden table. "I want to see you all dressed up."

But I didn't move.

I just laid there, staring at everything and nothing.

'The Groom' sighed and grabbed my arm, his nails digging into my wrists.

"You need to be more obedient." He hauled me onto my feet. "Now, arms out."

I did as he told me, feeling much like a broken doll in bin at some flea market.

"You're so skinny." He tutted, tightening the corset. "You must eat more, Darling. Otherwise, how will you bare our children?"

"I already have a daughter." I whispered under my breath.

"There." He chuckled, backing away and clasping his hands together. "You are beautiful."

I stared down at the dress, tempted to rip it off and shove it down his throat.

But I didn't.

He reached out to take my hand, but I snatched it away and averted my eyes, his touch now like fire to me.

"How enduring. My blushing bride is bashful." He grasped both of my hands in a death grip and began twirling me around like I was a marionette doll.

Then he began to sing.

I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream

I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam

He twirled me around again before forcing me to look at him.

"Sing for me, Darling."

I slowly nodded and opened my mouth, my voice hoarse and foreign to me.

Yet I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem

But if I know you, I know what you'll do

You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream

"Ah, such a beautiful sound." He sighed, his hands sliding down my back. I would've jerked away, but his grip kept me stationary. "Like a songbird."

Then, he did something awful.

He kissed me.

And I lost it.

With newfound strength, I shoved him away and decked him in the face.

He fell to the ground with a crash, and I ran for my life, the dress's skirt and train gathered up into my arms.

"YOU BITCH!" He screamed, giving chase. "GET BACK HERE!"

I ran as fast as I could, but with the gown's weight, I struggled to stay ahead.

'The Groom's' footsteps grew closer and closer until I was yanked back by my hair and shoved against the wall.

"Ah!"

"You rotten, dirty whore!" He spat against my face. "How dare you defy your husband?!"

"You're not my husband!" I screamed, struggling against him with all my might.

"God dammit! Stay still!" He tried to keep me pinned against the wall, but I kept slipping out of his grasp.

"Dammit, Darling! STAY. STILL!" He screamed, whipping out a knife from his belt and ramming it through my right hand and pinning to the wall.

"AHHH!"

"Now look at what you made me do!" He sighed. "I hate to do this, but you need to learn a lesson."

With a smile, he placed his hand on the hilt of the knife and pushed it deeper.

"AAAHHH!" I screamed, latching my hand on top of his, trying to pull him away. "FUCK!"

"Language, Darling!" He clutched my face with one hand, digging his nails into my cheeks until they drew blood. "Ungrateful whores like you don't deserve to live. You leave me no choice but to string you up with the rest of them."

But, before he could make another move, I heard that whisper of voices again.

The same voices I heard near the water tower with Waylon.

'Oh fuck..'

'The Groom' whipped his head towards the left and back away.

"Maybe I won't have to." He said with a light chuckle. "You are about to get your just desserts, you little whore."

With a final chuckle, he ran down the hallway and out of sight.

Slowly, the voice grew closer and closer.

"Shit!" I grabbed the knife and tried to yank it out, but with every attempt, pain ripped through my arm and I screamed in pain.

'Come on! You're going to die if you stay here, so MOVE!'

Sucking a deep breath, I pulled at the knife, biting my lip until I bled.

Eventually, the knife finally gave and I was free.

Just as a dark cloud formed at the end of the hallway.

'Fuck!' I bunched the dress up in my right hand and tore down the hallway, the gaping hole in my left hand forgotten for the moment.

The voices grew closer and closer, but I kept running, hoping it was just go away or fly past me.

But, my hopes were dashed once again as I was suddenly yanked up into the air and was face-to-face with The Walrider.

It had no eyes but I could tell it was inspecting me.

Like a predator inspecting its prey.

"Please." I whimpered, its grip like tiny spiders crawling over my body. "Let me go."

The Walrider did nothing, just continued to inspect me.

Then…it did let me go, but not in the way I wanted it to.

As I crashed through the window and plummeted towards the ground, all I could think of was "This is better than dying by 'The Groom's' hand."

A/N: This chapter was originally A LOT more graphic, but I toned it down because it hurt me to do this to Young-ja. To be honest, the only thing that kept me going during this chapter was the thought of Miles bursting through the door and kicking Eddie's ass. Please, look at the beautiful picture ASMxHF drew for me! I HAD it was the cover page for my profile and this story, but this stupid site won't show it. Ugh.