Broken Promises Will Never Leave

Some people just refuse to die.

In 1876, Susanne Smith was a woman of high class and extreme duty to her family name. She refused to wed anyone who neither she nor her mother deemed worthy. She was stubborn, selfish, ungrateful, spoiled, but was gifted with unforgettable beauty. A prize that most thought she didn’t deserve. But nonetheless, people were practically waiting in line to be judged for her matrimony.

            Finally, one late night, she found a man of wealth, fame, and power beyond imagining. But, much like Susanne, he was horrible inside. They were said to be the finest couple in the town by appearance, and Susanne was already plotting how to get her hands on his money.

            Not long after meeting this handsome young man, Susanne was due to be married. She couldn’t keep herself from bragging to nearly everyone that came into eyesight about her new, talented, amazing, and most of all, rich fiancé.

            She had the wedding arranged the day that it was planned. Comfortable white chairs were place in rows along the beach to gaze at the newlyweds. They had their house on a cliff overlooking the wedding. White cloth was hung in the corners of a long flower canopy stretching over the shore. Everything was neat. Everything was orderly.

            As the people gathered around the beach, Susanne was in the house with her mother and soon-to-be mother-in-law. They were positioned on all sides of the whitest wedding dress that anyone had ever seen. Layer after layer of lace were overlapping each other in an intricate pattern that bared resemblance only to the looks of its wearer. She wore jeweled heels of only the best makers that could be offered.

            Once everyone had taken their seats, the procession began. The amount of white was almost blinding. Shadows lengthened as the sun set over the silky blue horizon. The wedding was one great enough to catch the jealousy of kings.

            After the ceremony was complete, the celebration began. Fine wine was served at an outside bar. Clear glass tables were set under the canopy for food. A band played on a large stage decorated with torches gleaming like a miniature suns.

            The newlyweds found a quiet spot above the cliff, in the shade of a large oak tree, to watch the sunset together. They sat, side by side, leaning against each other in a loving way.

            As with all stories passed down, bits and pieces are changed and forgotten over the years. Unfortunately, this small part was changed and forgotten by nearly every ear the story touched. Some wanted to soften it up for younger listeners. Others tried to make it more interesting, but I will tell it as I was told.

            The couple got into an argument. Susanne’s husband began a conversation that revealed his true intentions. He wished to divorce her for her money. He never honestly loved her. Susanne, though she had considered something of the sort, tried to protect her false pride and acted as enraged and frustrated as she could.

            She stood up, inching closer and closer to the cliff’s edge. They were both shouting. The man stood up as well and started to walk closer to his wife. The argument became all the more heated. Until, blinded with rage, He shoved Susanne off. She plummeted all the way down until she crashed through the canopy and onto a table. Her mother fainted, but everyone else gazed up above the cliff to stare at the newly widowed gentleman with confusion and shame. Realizing what he had done, the man hesitated once or twice, and then trailed behind his late wife by leaping off the edge to avoid the accusing faces.

            Ever since then, the wedding is still set for a couple to be married. The house, though damaged and dilapidated beyond repair, still waits for two lovers to enter its doors fresh from their marriage. Some people say they didn’t even bother to bury the bodies.

 

            This house, built all those years ago, was torn down by another newly wedded couple who sought to use the land to build another house for their honeymoon as well not long ago. Their names are still known. They were Jason and Marilyn Meyers. They wanted to live there, forever overlooking the ocean.

            The new house was beautiful. It was three stories tall with a balcony thrusting out of the top floor. There was a porch set up out front. Flowers of all colors hung from the roof. There was a small haunting flaw in the landscape though. A large oak tree on the edge of the cliff that had part of it hanging off, as if it would fall down at any moment.

            The couple moved into the house immediately, anxious to start the honeymoon. After a long walk along the beach and a swim in the salty ocean, they retired to the master bedroom.

In the dead of night, something cut short their slumber. They heard a noise as if something was breaking downstairs. Thinking it was a thief, Jason fetched his revolver from behind the bookshelf. Marilyn slipped into her nightgown and trailed her husband into the hallway. Making sure to close the door tight, they treaded down to the bottom floor.

When they came to the tip of the staircase, they brought utter silence. Marilyn had to mouth quiet encouragement to herself to keep her from jumping at every small creak the house made.

Together, they peeked into the living room. Nothing was there. Only the pots and pans that were there when they went to bed. In the middle of searching the rest of the house, they heard another noise. One that couldn’t have been made by a burglar. I was a long, gruesome, piercing moan that sent chills down the newlywed’s spines. The air grew cold, and they were taken over by a sense of regret, guilt, and most of all, fear. It smelled of death itself. The rotting stench of a thousand aged corpses.

They sprinted for the door. Jason pulled and twisted with all his strength, but the knob was intent on not breaking. An ear splitting scream shook the house. Marilyn saw it first. Something fell through the floor above them and then through the one they stood on. Marilyn screamed with it, but Jason seemed strangely unaffected by the event. He just stood and stared blankly at his wife.

Marilyn turned to him, pleading for him to follow her, but he wouldn’t move. She stared directly into his eyes and saw that they had changed. They were entirely white, the pupils were gone. Only the veins showed. She screamed again as he reached out to grab her. She tried to run but Jason had a firm hold on her arms. He gripped her with her arms held tightly behind her back so that it closed her range of motion.

A loud, smooth sound much like a river, but lacking the soothing feeling flooded the air in the room until it was drowned out by an agonizing cry. Jason spun Marilyn around so that she could see what was causing it. Standing, silhouetted by an ominous white light coming from the window behind it, was a woman. She was wearing a beautiful wedding dress that would have nearly blinded her years ago. Her hair was a silky black that could have made anyone envious before now. But the image that could have once seemed so amazing now was a sight of horror. The hair had gone moldy and thin. The dress was old and yellowed. When the bride looked up, her face was broken and torn. Bits of skin were missing and under them seemed to be nothing but darkness. Her eyes would rip one apart straight to their very soul. Under all of the grotesque appearances, was a blackened heart filled with the rage and hate that lived inside her for over a century.

            It stepped slowly closer to Marilyn. Its head was tilting farther upwards with each footstep. Eventually her eyes met with Marilyn’s. Marilyn felt her insides unravel. She lost all sense of feeling. Her body was completely numb, and when Jason released her, she tumbled down to the floor, paralyzed.

            Ignoring Marilyn, the creature came closer to Jason. His eyes were still a dull white. Grabbing the back of his neck, she pulled him closer until their lips met. Marilyn tried to scream but her mouth refused to move. Jason’s skin began to swivel and swerve in a terrible manner. The viens beneath resembled snakes trying to escape the hold of a predator. His skin began to part as if it were made of soft straw. Under his skin was only darkness. All of his blood, his muscles, and anything else that gives someone life were gone. After he and the bride parted, all that was left of Jason was a small pile of broken bones which quickly turned to ash and were blown away by the icy wind created by the bride’s presence.

            The bride turned to Marilyn with a mixed look of pleasure and pain. She walked closer and closer until she was standing over her. She knelt down until their faces were almost touching. The bride grabbed Marilyn’s hand. A large sum of pain surged into her. She would have screamed but she couldn’t move.

            He eyes strained until it broke into a flash of a movement down to her hand. It was burning with an invisible flame. He fingers were desintigrating under the cold palms of the forsaken bride.

            Marilyn’s movement returned to the rest of her body just enough for her to whisper to herself, “Jason…” It was her last word as the bride wrapped her hand around Marilyn’s face.

Reviews

[Rebecca Rogers]

>As with all stories past down,
Should be "passed" instead of "past."

>Until, blinded with rage, He shoved Susanne off.
"He" shouldn't be capitalized.

>everyone else gazed up above the cliff to stare at the newly widowed with confusion and shame.
Newly widowed what? I think this is missing a noun somewhere. Maybe "newly widowed man."

>Her eyes ripped you apart straight to your very soul.
I would refrain from using second person. Instead, you could say something like, "Her eyes would rip one apart straight to the very soul."


I think the overall story is good. However, at times I felt as if it would jump from one thing to the next too quickly. Good job on the creepiness factor! :)

[.]

i loved it :)

great write