Corpse Bride Emily Full Body Novels & Stories

I had to do this…here goes nothing… Opening the door to my room, with nothing but a wedding dress, a spare dance uniform and a duffle bag with my life’s worth of savings…I came face to face with the woman who I was going to spend the rest of my year with. “Hey, run-away bride!” She laughed; her smile open and contagious. “You’re my new roommate?” She was about five feet seven in height, with more of an athletic built. Her skin was porcelain white and her hair was jet black with literal rainbow highlights that reached the middle of her back. A diamond shaped face and electric blue eyes. She was wearing black shorts and a rainbow colored tank top and black slippers and huge hoop earrings while

Every part of her body is mine she belong to me alone , her heart soul and body belong to me not this lustful men no one is allowed to look at her again SHE IS MINE

"What is that stench?" Connor's tone turned sharp and demanding. "Clara, what are you doing? I'm letting you out, and you're still refusing? What, planning to live down there forever?" He stepped closer, peering into the darkness. Moonlight streamed in, illuminating the bottom. And then he saw it. My lifeless body lay there, still and broken—like a discarded, ruined doll.

He nodded at Theodore as he spoke but immediately frowned the moment our eyes met. "Emperor Peralez awaits your visit," he scoffed, leading both of us inside the palace. The last time I was here was to see the infamous corpse princess. It was well known that the empress tried to murder her but failed due to her invulnerability. I was intrigued to the point I had to see the child myself. Twenty years had passed since I last saw her, and if she's still alive, I intend to have her as my bride.

I bowed my head during the prayers, I stared at the wood of the pew in front of me, tracing the grain with my gaze, feeling the draft of air up my skirt every time I shifted. Then came the wedding. Louis leaned over, his shoulder brushing mine. "Here she comes," he whispered, a genuine smile lighting up his face. The doors at the back of the sanctuary swung open. Emily Vance stood there, her dress a cloud of white lace and tulle, expanding around her like a protective barrier. It had long sleeves, a high neckline, and a train that seemed to go on for miles.

I giggle taking a sharp breath feeling Osric’s fingers slide down my back while he unlaces the dress. “Neither can I,” Embry admits while kneeling and pulling my boots off. He slides his finger up my calves and kisses my thigh just above my knee causing me to take a sharp breath. “You didn’t go by Bloodwrath?” I ask while running my fingers through Embry’s red hair enjoying the chills running down my spine from Osric’s lips on the back of my neck. “Not while we were apart, it used to be Embry Morgan,” Embry answer while kissing my hip after Osric pulls the dress open sliding it down to my feet.

); beautiful Bub, who —if all went as planned—would have a brother or sister within a few years’ time; their visits to see friends for birthday parties; babysitters; news rants; wives harping at their husbands for not putting away their tools— Emily clenched the shovel. Roared. She jumped, aiming for the zombie’s head but striking its shoulder instead, snapping the collarbone. It shot its glare at her, eyes glassy and black. They didn’t blink. Emily watched its skeleton contort beneath the drum-tight pull of its skin. It looked so frail; only it wasn’t. But worst of all was the way the muscles around its mouth had drawn back in a permanent smile, revealing all those elongated teeth.

I felt my heart lurch. Blood didn’t pour out. The wound closed instantly, sealing shut like it had never been there. Her skin glowed softly where the blade had been, leaving nothing but perfect flesh behind. I stared. My mind couldn’t catch up. “Emilia,” I breathed. “What… what is happening to you?” She turned her head toward me, slowly, like a queen acknowledging a kneeling soldier. Then—she smiled. It wasn’t her smile. Not at all. “My dear Maximus,” she said gently, reaching out and touching my cheek. Her fingers were warm, calming—and somehow impossibly strong. “Please let me borrow the body of your beloved.”

I don't believe her for a second, but I don't push. We make a quick stop at a 24-hour costume shop in the East Village-the kind of place that smells like fabric glue and incense, with racks stuffed full of everything from Victorian gowns to alien bodysuits. The mood shifts when Emilia spots the dresses. Her eyes practically sparkle as we sift through every rack, searching for something that screams Emily. She holds up a dusty blue dress with a corset top and layers of tulle. "I don't know whether to be impressed or concerned that they actually have Corpse Bride-themed outfits."

She looked like someone about to die. Esen ran up to her and instantly transformed into a werewolf. Her body was covered in white hair, and her hazel blue eyes turned dark blue. She hit her claw on her neck with force, which killed Emily on the spot. The smell of blood filled the air. Emily’s head rolled over her shoulder, blood spilling onto her clothes. It was as if someone took a paintbrush and painted her from head to toe in red, black, and brown splatters.