CHAPTER 39: TILL DEATH DO US PART... WAIT, ALREADY?!

Sometimes life gives you lemons, but I don’t need them! What the hell does she mean we’re married?!

"You must be joking! What kind of sick joke is that? Since when did I agree to any of this? And besides, marriage needs love! What made you think I’m in love with you?!" My voice came out louder than I intended. No—scratch that. Exactly as loud as it needed to be.

The skeleton didn’t even flinch. I swear I could almost sense a smile etched into its skull.

"What do you mean? You jumped right into my arms." It covered its face with both bony hands, bouquet still dangling there, making the whole scene look even eerier. Am I stuck in some twisted horror novel?

"I did no such thing—" But then it hit me. That moment when I tried to strike her, the cola dropped on my head... Damn it. Thank you, Milo4more. You just helped me land a wife.

A wife... The Death itself...

My chest sank beneath the weight of a stone as heavy as the world.

It’s fine. It will all be fine. I tell myself not to cry.

"In the testament of the old gods and creators, if a mortal willingly leaps into death’s embrace, it signifies love and devotion," the skeleton intoned. Then, after a pause, its voice dropped awkwardly. "But it’s not like I wanted to marry you either. Y-you... stupid..."

Wait... she definitely looks like she wanted this. What the hell?!

I let out a long sigh. What’s done is done... so what now? Honeymoon? Children? I’m not even fifteen yet. I’m still a teenager in my world. Kids can wait a year or two.

I can even picture it in my head: a tiny skeleton baby rattling in a crib while I gently rock it to sleep, and my wife in the kitchen, cooking up a delicious larvae stew served with a side of wriggling garnish just for us... Perfection...

No! Snap out of it, you idiot! What are you even thinking?! Life with death? With a damn skeleton?! I curse myself, nearly slapping my own face.

"I don’t accept this. I’m leaving." I push myself up, only to notice my clothes aren’t the ones I usually wear. "Wait... did you dress me up in a tuxedo?" This is ridiculous. WAIT. Does that mean she already saw me naked? Creepy...

"Yup." The skeleton nods, her voice carrying an eerie sort of happiness. Then, to my horror, she covers her eye sockets like some shy bride. "But I have to say, you sure are packing down there. I didn’t expect my husband to be so... manly."

Yeah... I can’t get married to anyone else now. Pa always said if a girl sees you naked, you’ve got to marry her. Great. Just great.

"My dear, is something on your mind?" she asked suddenly, her eerie voice softening into something almost gentle.

"It’s just... how would this even work? I’m a mortal, and you’re a..." The words stuck in my throat. My eyes dropped to my clenched fists.

"I am?" she pressed, sounding expectant.

Ugh... anyone got experience with women? What the hell am I supposed to do now? If I say she’s not my type, would that hurt her feelings? Maybe I should tread carefully... ahhh, screw it.

"You’re simply... a skeleton, while I’m flesh and blood. This won’t do..." I muttered awkwardly, scratching my cheek. Maybe if she’s hurt just a little, she’ll let me go instead of killing me.

"Oh!" She clapped her bony hands together. "So that’s what you mean? Not a problem at all. I’ll simply turn you into a skeleton as well." She reached out with a single finger, and I bolted, leaping away as if the ground itself had turned into hot coals under my ass.

"NO WAY! NOT IN A MILLION YEARS! NO!" My heart thundered, terrified of vanishing from existence.

"It’s okay, dear. I can wait two million years. I have all eternity."

God damn it... I don’t even need that long. I’ll be a skeleton in less than a century anyway. Tears welled up in my eyes.

"No, no! I’m not into bones! I’m into flesh! Like hell do I want to become just bones!" I scream, darting around as she tries to poke me with that cursed finger. One touch and I’m convinced I’ll wake up as a skeleton.

She halts suddenly, pressing her finger thoughtfully against her cheekbone as if in deep contemplation. Good. She’s distracted. My chance!

I spot the door to my left and sneak toward it. Glancing back—she’s still frozen in place. Perfect. I grab the knob and twist. It groans like it hasn’t been oiled in ten thousand years, loud enough to wake the dead. Even turning it requires all my strength. What the hell is this place made of?

I risk another look. Still no movement. Thank the gods. I edge the door open and almost slip into the vast, lightless hall beyond. Not a candle, not a spark—it’s pure darkness. Fine. Darkness can’t defeat me.

But before I step out, her voice stops me cold.

"How about this, darling? Is this more to your liking?"

Her tone has changed—gone is the eerie rattle, replaced by something sweet, teasing, almost sultry. My eyes snap back, and my jaw nearly slams against the floor.

She stands there in a flowing black wedding dress, the fabric clinging to her curves like shadows given form. Midnight hair cascades down her back in a silken river, and her eyes burn with an unearthly glow, red and pink intertwined like twin embers in the dark.

Her skin is so pale it almost glows, flawless as polished marble, while her lips glisten like drops of forbidden wine. Her figure... statuesque, voluptuous, the kind of body sculpted only for kings and nightmares alike. Every step she takes is poetry, every glance a trap, every breath a promise of ruin.

She’s perfect. Too perfect.

Without another thought, I close the door in front of me. I’m staying right here.

You know what? Milo4more... I’m forever grateful. This might not have been such a bad deal with the devil after all.