Can't Say

Epilogue: Zalgoid Reception

      The weddings reception for you and Zalgo was held in his territory. It was a one-sided reception, consisting of Zalgo and his minions. There was food and drink o'plenty; most spread out over the long tables of chiseled stone, while mugs, wine glasses, and finger foods were floating around on trays that lesser minions were tasked to carry. The floor was a wild party of savagery, yet your table was calm and sophisticated.
      Zalgo attempted small talk with you, even though your short replies constantly closed the conversations just as quickly as they began. He never left your side, and you didn't dare try to leave your seat. You had managed to stomach a small bit of food, finding it incredibly delectable, but your broken heart stopped you from truly enjoying a decent meal. All you did was tuck your hands into your lap and stare at the table, eagerly waiting for time to pass in a blur until Slenderman would rescue you.
      "Very well, then," Zalgo stood from his seat, straightening his tuxedo jacket. Every single minion froze and looked up to their lord with anticipation. He said, "It's time for the bride and groom to have their first dance." At this, Zalgo held out his hand to you, eying you expectantly. 
      With a disgusted glare, you remained seated, refusing your husband's hand. His soft smile didn't waver, and his open hand held still. With a gentle voice, Zalgo said, "I'm afraid you don't have a choice, my dear. This dance will happen, with or without your consent. But, I assure you," he lowered his upper body into a perfect bow, "this will be the last thing I force you to do."
      Hesitation; then, reluctantly, you laid your hand into his. You rose to your feet as the demon lord's pull guided you up. He held your eyes with a tender gaze; firm and inviting. Zalgo lead you down to an open floor in the center of the stony chamber of glowing rocks. Minions spread away, encircling the two of you with plenty of space between. Not once did Zalgo's gaze waver from your own, it was as though he had you entranced with curiosity; or some sort of mind control? He laced his fingers between your's, and placed his other on your waist. Instinctively, perhaps, you rested your free hand on his nearest shoulder, and then the music began.
      From where the melody of classical instruments sounded, you couldn't tell. Regardless, they reached your ears with crystal vibrations, soothing your eardrums of the laughter and chaos that was the minion horde partying earlier. The tune was a comfortable, slow pace, of which Zalgo's feet and hips lead your own into a mesmerizing sway like the ocean waves. With each step, you noticed Zalgo change for the better; he was slowly becoming more attractive to you, or at least easier to look at. You weren't sure if it was just some sort of spell that he was casting - if he even did cast spells - on you, or perhaps he was physically changing himself. Either way, his features became increasingly human; the crispy epidermis softening, though never loosing its dark color, and you could still see the red glow of his veins. At some point, Zalgo even sprouted hair, which was slick, and just as black, as ink. It draped down around his horns and head, dangling just above his shoulder line. By the end of the song, he had become, dare you say, handsome.
      The dancing stopped. Zalgo smirked with his velvet lips and waited for you to say something. He knew you would have something to say.
      Such an obnoxious air pursed your lips so that you would deny him what he wanted to hear. Instead, you narrowed your eyes and studied the demon lord's face for any sign of mischief; his entire being was the embodiment of mischief.
      "My dear," Zalgo moved a hand to your chin and gently gripped, leaning closer, "I think it's plain to see," his lips locked with your's. He was slow and passionate, though refrained from using his tongue, the strong muscles of his lips massaging your own as he felt each curve. Zalgo pulled away, just enough continue giving butterfly kisses as he whispered, "I am a perfect entity."
      You wanted to so much to fill your mouth with venom and keep his deeply. Maybe then you could poison him enough to kill. Would he fall for it? Could you be fast enough?
      "It'll take more than one try," the demon minions' collective voices echoed around you, monotonously dashing away your thoughts in unison. "It'll take more than two, or three, or a hundred - a thousand! - tries to kill me." You looked back to see Zalgo grinning down at you, leaning back to puff out his chest in triumph. It was then that you understood - Zalgo was a hive-mind entity. He had many bodies; none of which were a main source. If you wanted to kill him, you would have to kill all of them. You weren't even sure how quickly he could regenerate or reproduce new minions. It would have to be one fell swoop. Perhaps it could be done, but such a feat would require meticulous planning. For now, you were at Zalgo's mercy.
      Your eyes lowered to no particular spot, staring off into thought as you soaked into the new realization. Granted, you had suspected such possibilities, but hope, what you little you had, tricked you into thinking otherwise.
      "Don't look so glum, ____," Zalgo lifted your chin with a single claw, giving you a sympathetic look. "I'm a much better husband than an enemy," he cooed.
      At that, Zalgo swept you off your feet, carrying you bridal style in his warm arms. He stepped forward, and immediately, the two of you entered a new chamber that was spacious, but much smaller than the previous one. In one corner was a beautiful canopy bed with silk and lace. Various expensive-looking rugs decorated the floor, complementing the bed's color theme. A hand-carved, dresser and vanity set stood against the opposite wall, shimmering with modest jewel inlays. There were a few crystal bottles of perfume on the vanity set's surface, accompanied by other finely crafted hair brushes, combs, and the like. So far, there wasn't much to the room, but you were already floored by what was there. 
      "This is your room," Zalgo confirmed. "Over time, I hope to fill it with more gifts."
      "My room?" You blushed, almost afraid to ask the obvious, but you decided to anyway, "But we're married, so shouldn't it be our room?"
      Zalgo began toward the bed, a smirk curled on his lips. It then hit you that the marriage had yet to be  - consummated. Panic set in, and you began struggling in Zalgo's arms.
      "I don't think I'm ready," you yelled. "Please don't. Not yet. I don't want to be raped."
      Halting, Zalgo looked down to you with shock, "Rape?" He set you down on the edge of the bed, "I'm abhorred by such a thought. Sexual offense is far beneath me, my dear." The demon lord straightened his tuxedo jack and stepped back. "There will be no need for a wedding consummation. The performance has long been over."
      "Performance?" You queried, confused with Zalgo's choice of words.
      The only response you received was a sharp hum. Zalgo then left, walking directly through the wall of your bedroom. You were alone now.
      Despite the fine objects around you, there was an emptiness within. Not only were you lonely for Slenderman, but you were confused with Zalgo's behavior - his words. He seemed less interested in teasing you with snarky comments. Just when you thought you had him figured out, the chaotic demon stirred things up again. Would he continue treating you decently? Would your bedroom always be so luxurious, or would you wake up to a cold, damp cell? Did Zalgo have any further plans for you, or would you be left to rot alone?