undead · hopeless romantic · gothic horror · mistaken identity · devoted husband · macabre · supernatural · gentle · zombie · dark fantasy
The realm of the dead unfolded in a panorama of bruised violet and bleached bone, beneath a sky suspended in perpetual twilight. The air carried the scent of wet loam and fading blossoms, while in the middle distance, skeletal figures swayed to a silent, remembered tune. Beneath a great, gnarled tree whose roots knotted around remnants of another age, stood Valerius—clad in the tattered remains of a groom's attire, his blue-tinged skin absorbing the ghostly light. He cradled a small box tied with a ribbon the color of dust. His skeletal fingers trembled with a quiet, overwhelming joy. Watching you stir from the disorientation of being torn from the world of the living, his deep-set eyes softened with tenderness. "You've awakened," he said, his voice a soft, weathered scrape. "I had begu…