Warning: This may seem a little disturbing. Do not read if you are easily offended.
Marriage Made in Hell
The woman standing behind the shojo door was human with long, brunette hair and bright green eyes. She wore a posh little number that reminded me of Claire and Rachel upstairs in their little, awesome cage, but the pencil skirt stopped a bit too high and the entire ensemble was red. Hell had sent its representative, it seemed.
“Hello? Are you just going to stare at me or do I get to see my son?” she asked, a tinkling voice shrouded in annoyance.
“You’re son?” I asked, confused. “There are no human men here.”
“Gregorious. My son is Gregorious,” she finally sighed, stepping past me to get into the main room. Gregor lounged on the cushions, reading what looked to be a literary magazine from Hell. Stealing it, I sat next to him. Gregor’s mother stood above him for a few moments before he noticed her.
“Mom! What are you doing here?” he asked, voice shaking. Rolling my eyes, I shook my head at his antics. He knew what she was doing here, but he didn’t want me to know.
“Are you going to introduce us, Gregorious?”
“Oh, sorry Mom. Mom, this is Faith. Faith is a really good friend. Faith, this is my mother, Joan. Father’s first wife,” Gregor said, taking my hand and squeezing it gently. Joan gave me a once over before smiling warmly.
“That’s better. Now was that so hard?”
“Anyway, I have something to give you, but no outsiders can see. I’m sorry, Faith, but you’ll have to leave,” Joan said, stepping forward to help me out of the cushion. With magazine in hand, I smiled and waved as I walked into the kitchen. The first short story was a little three parter by someone called “B. W. R. Thorn” about some interesting relationship between demon and human. It wasn’t the norm that was for sure, though it did sound a little familiar.
“Well she has a good heart and soul,” I heard Joan’s voice from the main room. Whatever they were planning, I wasn’t sure I was happy I could hear part of the conversation. Their voices rose until I could hear them talking and then sunk until all I could hear were murmurs. Their conversation lasted an hour before I heard Joan yell out a farewell. Gregor was in the kitchen with me a moment later.
“Faith, I need to tell you something.”
“What I’m about to tell you, Faith, will be wiped from your memory if need be,” he said, avoiding the subject. I closed the magazine and looked into his eyes, full of love.
I blinked. Love had never been in his eyes before.
“What is it?” I asked, leaning forward to get a better view.
“My parents have been pushing me to find a… bride to settle down with and have lots of fat, happy children. My mom’s demands, not Father’s,” he said, casting his eyes down to stare at the table.
“Funny, so is my mom,” I muttered.
“And I’ve made my choice, Faith.”
I blinked again.
“You’re choice?” I inquired.
“Yes. According to tradition I must ask you to be my unholy bride and to take this ring,” he said, rushing the last few words. In his hand he held a silver ring with a heart in the center, hands on both side, and a crown over the heart. My heart stopped as I stared at the Claddagh Ring, my dream ring. A Celtic symbol for love and friendship, the perfect engagement ring held out right in front of me.
“Are you asking me to marry you, Gregor?” I asked quietly.
“Hot damn,” I muttered, wrapping my head around everything. “And if I say yes, how long would I have.”
“Until the joining? A couple of hours at the most, really,” he responded.
“Hell, fucking yes,” I said, launching across the table to kiss him with all my might. We made out in the kitchen for a few moments before I had to breathe again.
“Alright. I have to go. See you in a few hours, love.”
“Okay,” I muttered, leaning down to kiss him, but he’d already disappeared. The Pixies who worked with him began to appear one by one until the room was full of Pixies and fabric. They worked tiredlessly to created a green wedding dress that had a Indian-styled veil that went down to my thigh. The collar was like a kimono, as well as the sleeves, and my waist was clenched in by a corset tied tightly. The skirt of the gown looked like it was out of the nineteenth century. I had no shoes, but I didn’t mind.
A little imp appeared with a cloud of smoke, causing the Pixies to chitter angrily at it. It looked a little confused at first, but then bowed stiffly.
It is time, Miss Faith. Gregorious the Lustful waits for you with his brother, Patarion the Wrathful-and-Currently-High-on-Marijuana, a voice said in my head.
“Are you saying that?” I asked the little imp. It just bowed before gesturing for me to follow him. We walked out to the garden with the pond shaped like a kidney bean. A little house sat on the edge and Koi fish swam near the surface. Gregor stood in a loin cloth just outside the house with his father in the doorway. Claire and Rachel stood in chains and gagged, no doubt because of their loud and obnoxious bitching. Joan stood on the otherside of Gregor, her hands on his shoulders.
“Faith, you have decided to take my son as your mate for all eternity. You have a chance to change your mind now,” Lucifer said, his hands resting behind him.
“I want to we-join with Gregor.”
“Very well. Tradition speaks that two bigoted Christians must be sacrificed and sent back to their God for their reward or punishment. That is the demand. Do you understand?” Lucifer said, his hands punctuating his words.
“Yes. Who does the sacrifice?” I asked, glaring at the two bitches.
“Give me a knife then,” I said, starting towards the girls. A knife appeared in my hand and I started to work. Before long they were both dead, their blood pooling around their maimed bodies. Remarkably, my dress remained undamaged. A second later, a bright light blinded me before Gregor and I were alone in a small shrine, where the large and towering piece of shit used to be.
“Welcome home, Faith,” Gregor said, sweeping me off my feet and into the bridal hold.
“Welcome home, Gregor,” I responded, giggling. With a chuckle and a prance, Gregor stepped over the threshold of our new home and into our new lives.