Corpse Groom

Chords Struck

(Art by me. I suck at anatomy but used references and did my best. I hope you like him)
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"What's your favorite instrument?"

"Mother doesn't let me play any. She thinks it's better if I just stick to my education..."

(Y/n) gazed at the boy next to him. Those emerald eyes were full of unspoken sorrow and pain...

"Would you like to come over some time? I can teach you how to play."

John turned to him with pure excitement on his face.

"Really?! You could?!"

"I don't have many instruments to choose from, but I can certainly teach you how to play the ones I have."

Dirty blonde locks flowed in the breeze as the young boy frantically nodded his head.

"I would like that very much! Thank you, (Y/n)."

(Y/n) couldn't help the fond smile that spread across his young face. He was looking forward to teaching John everything he knew.
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The (h/c) man sighed at the memory, leaning against the railing of a bridge they used to play on back then.

He had taught John how to play the piano; had been friends with him for such a long time, and now they were supposed to get married?

He found the concept rather odd...

Marrying his childhood friend? It was... hard to imagine. Did John even harbor those kinds of feelings for him? Did... did (Y/n)?

He wasn't entirely sure. He'd never thought about it before...

John was of noble blood. (Y/n) was the son of fairly successful fish merchants.

Their union was... well, it wasn't really planned per se.

After John's father took off with the family fortune, the (L/n)s were the only other "wealthy" people in town. Without marrying back into money, John and his mother would be going straight to the poorhouse.

It was simply convenient for both families...

But what of (Y/n)'s feelings? Of John's? Would they be... happy together?

...

(Y/n) sighed. Perhaps it didn't really matter... he'd hate to see his childhood friend stuck in a poorhouse.

They could still keep their relationship as it was, even under the vows of marriage.

It was best he learned his vows properly.

With a storm steadily brewing overhead, (Y/n) began wandering into the woods just next to the bridge while mumbling what words he had remembered.
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"With this hand, I will..."

(Y/n) rubbed at his temple, trying to retrieve the lost line.

"I will... shift? No, that's not quite right."

He had passed by countless trees until coming to a partial clearing. The perfect place to practice.

As the wind blew through the barren branches above, the words finally came to him.

"Ah, right!"

(Y/n) cleared his throat.

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine."

To be sure he wouldn't forget again, (Y/n) repeated it a few more times in his head.

"With this candle, I will light your way in darkness."

That vow was easy enough to remember. Now he could only hope John's candle would actually light during the next rehearsal...

As (Y/n) prepared to deliver the final vow, his eye caught a rather peculiar branch shaped strangely like a hand.

...

He approached.

It must have been fairly old and looked ever so slightly brittle. Perhaps it had been a bush before autumn started to settle in...

With a bit of humor warming his chest, the young man produced the ring from his pocket.

"With this ring, I ask you to be mine."

The golden band fit very loosely on the branch; almost comically so. (Y/n) smiled down at it.

A crack of thunder startled him, his gaze turning to the dark-gray sky. He hadn't expected the storm to arrive so soon. How had it snuck up on him?

The young man didn't have enough time to ponder on that.

"Ah!"

Wide (e/c) eyes darted back to where the branch had wrapped around his arm. A cold blade of fear immediately began to tear his mind asunder.

(Y/n) yanked and pulled his arm, desperately trying to wrench it free from the seemingly sentient branch (who's grip felt increasingly tighter the more the (h/c) man struggled).

Finally, (Y/n) pulled himself and the branch free.

"Ngh!"

(Y/n) groaned as he fell onto his back, arm still tightly gripped by the hand-like branch.

His short-lived relief soon melted away when something broke free from the earth.

The air seemed to freeze when a pair of (e/c) eyes met a single pale-blue one. (Y/n) could already feel himself hyperventilating; simply unable to tear his gaze from the gruesome sight before him.

A man dressed in a black suit, black tie torn to shreds, and his throat completely slit slowly rose up from the dirt.

A hole on the left side of his jaw allowed (Y/n) to see his teeth, skull, and the muscles beneath his ruined skin. His missing right eye was enveloped by bare bone.

The wind picked up in tandem with (Y/n)'s heart rate, blowing the man's long dark hair about his face like a vengeful spirit.

His face... it was disturbingly blank as that lone eye took (Y/n) in.

There was nothing but silence between them, and it was during that silence (Y/n) finally realized that the "branch" gripping his arm was actually the abomination's skeletal right hand.

With a jolt, (Y/n) ripped the arm off of himself and tossed it towards the object of his terror. The boney appendage was easily caught in a practically colorless hand and held aloft for but a moment.

A small smile slowly came to that pale face before he reattached his arm.

"I do."

His voice was deep yet raspy, and (Y/n) could see the muscles through his slit throat fluttering. A revolted shiver ran down (Y/n)'s spine.

The abomination took one step forward, and (Y/n) rushed to his feet in a scramble to get away.

He ran like he had never run before.