Chapter 2: Here Comes the...
Sullivan stood rigid as stone and waited at the altar for his soon to be wife, his next of kin loyally by his side trying not to doze off from boredom. As the organ played, those lucky enough to be able to attend the union of the century, looked back and waited in silence for the blushing bride to burst through the doors; their hushed anticipation drowned out by the notes in the air, but she was nowhere to be seen. Soon the hushed whispers turned to an awkward prevailing murmur amongst the guests as the organ slowly grinded to a halt, allowing the deafening silence to overtake the venue.
Where was the bride?
Oliver looked on in disbelief, hoping, wishing that those doors would open to reveal a pretty little woman in her flowing white dress. Any minute now, he thought, any second and she will come through those doors because no one, not even Oliver himself, was foolish enough to ruin the carefully laid plans of his dearly beloved cousin.
He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing from the force as he felt the scorching heat from within his cousin rise to a near blinding rage. He knew Sullivan to be able to keep his cool, but something as insulting as being stood up at the altar could prove to be intolerable. Oliver dared a peek at his next of kin, doing his best to keep his lily white hide out of Sullivan's crosshairs.
Oliver could see that the whites of his cousin's eyes had been stained black, purple veins now creeping up from beneath his neatly pressed collar to envelope his pale neck, his form trembling with the intensity of his rage as he tried to keep himself in check. If Oliver didn't do something very soon, Sullivan could tear the entirety of the venue to pieces, and all that he had built would be lost in a matter of seconds. He opened his mouth to say something, anything to calm his enraged relative, but he wasn't sure if there was anything that he could do to stop him.
Then the doors finally opened.
The silence continued to keep its hold, the crowd now stunned to see the missing bride finally making her appearance. She seemed to be bathed in the purest white as she stepped forward to meet her husband to be. As she walked down the long aisle, all within the pews could see she was soaked to the bone. Even her veil was heavy with water, her bouquet in damp wilting tatters as petal after petal fell to the floor, guiding her path. All that could be heard were her soft, quiet footsteps and the spattering of water onto stone floors.
The inky darkness never left Sullivan's eyes, but the veins soon retreated, the angry shakes now ceased. Oliver let out a long inharmonious sigh of relief, the knowledge of what was just about to transpire almost too much for him. As if a spell had been broken, however, the organ once again played, stripping the silence of its overpowering hold, allowing the venue to continue as if nothing had ever happened, as if the bride had never been late to her own wedding.
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