So I decided to take your guys' advice and make a new thread for the story, that way there isn't useless pages. I will posting parts one and two only for now, as I'm having trouble finishing part three. Thanks again for reading. Part One She walked down the aisle. As she drew closer to the bastard, she felt utmost fear and hatred for him, growing with every carefully placed footstep. He stood before her, a fake, welcoming, and handsome grin on his smug face. It made her fear him more, this wolf in sheep's clothing. She reached the altar, now face to face with the man she has to marry, the man that will ensure that she doesn't die alone. The man that **** her. She looks up into his eyes and sees him looking at her body, every curve and crevice. Her blood turns to stone. She wants to scream, but can't. She hears the pastor talking, but it is just a desolate murmur to her. She can't stop looking into his eyes. She notices his mouth move, but words are inaudible. She pleads to anyone to stop it from happening, but she still can't do anything but stare. She then sees movement at the doorway of the church. A man walks in late to the ceremony, and sits at the back on her family and friends' side.
Part Two I stood outside the gothic church, waiting for my cue. I looked up at the worn down cross atop the building. It was on an angle; probably would fall over if an earthquake hit. "Wonderful way to kill someone," I said to myself. I always noticed things like that cross. By that, I mean things that could kill someone. Like just now, I imagined the earthquake hitting, then the cross would slowly topple forward, gaining speed as it went, hit the angled roof, and slide the rest of the way down towards some unfortunate soul below who thought he would be safe from the earthquake in the church. Unbeknownst to him, he was actually going to be crushed by the uncared for cross, and everyone around him would hear the crunch of every bone in his body being pulverized into powder, and his blood would seep out around the cross like some sacrificial ritual. But this was unlikely to happen, as earthquakes weren't common in this area. After this thought, I couldn't hear anything inside other than quiet talking. "Now's probably the best time to go in." I walked up to the giant entrance and calmly entered, taking a seat at the backon the left side. I didn't bother listening to the pastor, as I was not here for the wedding itself. I brought my hand up to my belt and felt the dagger that sat snuggly pressed to my hip. "Soon..." I thought to myself. As the ceremony passed on, i felt the urge to use the dagger many times. "Not yet..." I would think to myself. But now came the words I was waiting for: "Do you take her to be your lawfully wedded wife?" In a swift motion, I took the dagger out of my belt, stood up, and threw the dagger across the room...
Part three The moment she was the most fearful of had arrived. "Do you take her to be your lawfully wedded wife?" These were the first words she had heard the entire ceremony. The rest of the ceremony was all staring in the bastard's eyes, frozen from his constant gazing at her chest and crotch, his eyes giving away his lust. She knew what he was thinking about. He was thinking about the last time he looked there. The time she was exposed to him. Exposed and unable to fight him off. A few times, she almost passed out from the memory of it, but she didn't. Otherwise, that would give him reason to touch her. To let his hands carress her while he pretended to help. "Do you take her to be your lawfully wedded wife?" She knew what the answer would be. She wished he wouldn't, but if he says he does, she has no choice but to answer the same. It was the only way for her to get anywhere. She needed it to happen. "Do you take her to be your lawfully wedded wife?" He flashes her a devilish grin as his eyes sneak a peek one last time. He opens his mouth, but all that comes out is a single "I" before a dagger enters his skull from the left temple. He falls to the ground, dead instantly. Friends and family rush over to his body, see if there was any way he could still be alive. She stood in horror as the blood seeped out of her would-be-husband's head. But she was also relieved. The bastard's eyes finally weren't on her. She felt a hand touch her shoulder, making her jump slightly. "I think it would be best for us to leave." She looked over, and it was the man that came in late. "Why do we have to leave? What use would leaving have?" He looked at her with the eyes of urgency. "Because I killed a man, and you will be accused of hiring an assassin." She quickly brushed off the man's hand. "Why would I be accused of such a thing!?" The man smirked slightly. "Not everyone smiles when their groom is killed before them, madam."
So I decided to give you guys another update since I haven't been updating much lately. Sorry about how short it is compared to the other updates, but it's all I could write for this part. As always, thank you for taking the time to read it. Part Four Now, you're probably wondering "Who am I?" and "Why am I narrating the woman's point of view?" Well, who I am doesn't matter as I am dead. Yes, that's right. I am the "bastard". Before you go asking questions like "Why would you narrate her story?" and "Why aren't you twisting the story to sound like the good guy?", let me ask you this: Why should I hide anything when I'm already in Hell? Why hide the truth when I can't be convicted for it? You're probably still asking questions though, aren't you? "Why would he call himself a bastard?" That's what you think I am, right? I'm not a saint in anyone's eyes, so why call myself one? "Well why do you seem content to be in Hell?" Now that... THAT is the question you should be asking. Why am I happy to be here? Because the man that killed me should be here soon. You don't kill a man without some sort of consequence, whether they be a good or a bad person. So now... I just have to sit back, relax, and wait for him to come to me. Then, I can torture him and kill him over and over again for the rest of eternity. These will be the last words you hear from me. Can't narrate what I don't know, right?
Alright, so I'm having a bit of trouble coming up part 5 for you guys. As well, I am now sick, so I'm a bit scatterbrained at the moment. As soon as I'm feeling better, I'll start writing.
Sorry for not updating, but I'm still having trouble coming up with the next part. But who knows. Maybe being a year older will change that lol. Thanks for waiting.
So with exams being done tomorrow, I might finally get an update for you guys. Been busy the last few days because all of my tougher courses were this semester.
So... this is the last chapter. For my next story, where I will incorporate this character at a later point. Thank those of you that have read it. Part Five: Finale I don't feel. That's how I can kill. I feel no horror in what I do. No remorse. I've been doing it for four years now.... wish I started sooner. I only kill those who deserve to be killed... protect people that are innocent from falling into the clutches of evil. My ways are seen as injustice.... but so were the ways of those I killed. They are going to Hell for what they've done... but me... we'll just have to see, won't we? My destiny is not yet decided. Who knows where I go from here. It all depends on what I do and what the fates have in store I guess. Until then... this is the last will hear of me: Drake Zarko.