Chris is a demon sent to hell from his belief of not being one to believe in God. He is set to be the next ruler of Hell, also set to marry Satan's daughter, who is not completely sure of it all.
short story based off the song Bloodsport by Sleep T...
I made loving you a blood sport I made loving you a blood sport I made loving you a blood sport I can't win
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The bouquet of black roses and blood covered on top from the man you call your father rest in your hands. The heels black to match somewhat to the red dress that has been fixed up. The veil is pinned perfectly to the curled hair of yours. A thin sheet of lace as your veil to where you can see. Enough to where you can see through it. Cause after all, he doesn't want his only daughter left to be wed to fall to her death.
He has plans after all.
He would never get his rest then. He would forever be bound to the throne for as long as he lives.
It's quiet nothing but the violins can be heard.
Not even the screams of the tortured underneath the circular floor below can be heard. It's silent. The circle platforms have gathered everyone who matters most. Right down to the slaves. The ones who you have given such a care too. Ricky, Justin, Vincent, and Ryan. You hadn't dared to even speak to him. Much less sneak off, Chris had been on high alert.
Double checking if things were on to the right setting. He even sent his right hand men to make sure.
There was no chance to even speak to anyone alone with no person breathing down your neck.
One slip up, it would be the end of everything that you hold so dear to you.
Chris's hand reaches out for yours as you get to him.
He looks nice. For the most part, his suit matches your dress. Made just perfectly for him. For his tall form. He is taller then even you. You stand just to his chest and while your father stands to the side with the proudest smirk on his face. His black hair slicked back and his face shaved. For the first time in years.
It doesn't make this moment any less heart aching for you.
You find yourself wanting to look back towards Ryan.
You had seen his suit. He looked nice. Not the tattered t shirt he is in normally. He looks nice. Perfect. In some sense, you hope maybe that means it's gonna work out for you. You deserve that much.
Then again, only the good happen to the ones who aren't wicked. Tainted. Born of an evil human being. Demon. Whatever you wanna call him, you don't ever find the good to work the way you want it to be.
It's Hell after all.
Good things never happen here.
Handing the flowers to your father, you take Chris's other hand. He brings it up to his lips and kisses it. Before he lowers it down to where he is supposed to hold it. If you hadn't seen through him, maybe you would have swooned. Felt some magical experience. Maybe you would have found that he was being honest to you. To your father, but you saw through him the moment he showed himself.
