Haunted Mansion Beating Heart Bride Novels & Stories

"Garry here, owes me more things than his life can pay for, which makes me think that's what killed his dear poor wife, six years ago." Garry growl became more audible and I could see the trembling of his hands. "....I think her name was Melissa. She was one pretty thing to behold. A lovely girl in her late teens who was brainwashed by this sack of meat called Garry, to get married to him instead of I. I tried talking her out of it but then it was too late, Garry here, had already brainwashed her and turned her to a puppet, a waste of beauty. After a year and a half, stupid Mellssa died of starvation while the love of her life, was drinking himself to stupor in this same bar."

I’ll replace every memory you left with him, just like this dress. Every word felt like a sharp blade, stabbing straight into my heart. I zoomed in on the photo and stared at Vincent for a long time. He stood behind her, dressed in a tailored suit, a faint smile on his lips. Before I realized it, my eyes had turned red. It seemed I loved him so much that I was crying happy tears for him. I didn’t go home that entire night. After staying on the Brooklyn Bridge for most of the night, I took the earliest subway to St. Patrick’s Cathedral, where Vincent and Elena would be getting married in four days.

Her voice grew deeper, “Or you’ll never leave this house alive.” Then she vanished and the room became silent again. Clara sat alone in the darkness, her heart was racing, her hands shaking so badly. Clara’s mind was just spinning in fear, then she heard footsteps outside the room, slow and heavy coming close to the room. Then a familiar voice whispered from behind the door. “Clara.” It was Adrian and somehow his voice sounded even scarier than the ghost's. Then there came a scratching sound, slow and sharp. As if someone was dragging long nails across the wood.

The ritual was laid out, and the omen came back overwhelmingly favorable. Vincent nodded in satisfaction. Then he turned slowly, his voice booming through the hall like the toll of a cathedral bell: “Our Lord has confirmed it through the divine reading. From this day forward, this woman shall be recognized as the Bride of Our Lord. She shall receive the highest honors and offerings from every descendant of Stockholm!” “Kneel before Our Lady!” At his command, hundreds of people dropped to the floor before me in reverent submission. Only my stepmother stepped forward instead.

“Mine. The mark left when the curse first split the packs. It must be kissed, life to life, by the bridge and her mate, while the last drop of willing blood falls on the fang.” Elara looked down at her hand, blood still welling slowly. “Then we do it now.” Seraphine shook her head, sad, urgent. “Not here. Not yet. The dark moon is passing. The window closes. You must return to the place where the curse was born, the true heart of Blackthorn. Beneath the manor. The chamber where the First Moon spoke its wrath.” Kael’s jaw clenched. “We just came from there.” “No,” Seraphine said. “You found the fang. You did not find the heart. There is one more chamber, deeper. Hidden even from Alphas. Only

I could imagine his cold fingers gliding over my skin, his tongue running slowly over his sharpened fangs stained by countless victims, his breath carrying the sickening metallic stench of blood and decaying flesh as he stared at me hungrily. My stomach lurched and I instantly abandoned the thought. Am I even going to survive the night? I jerked up from my seat when a soft knock broke the silence. My heart pounded in my chest as it slowly opened. The moment I saw my stepmother, Lady Evelyne, my mood instantly turned sour. I turned around, pretending I didn't see her. “It’s time,” she announced as the door clicked shut behind her. “The guests are already gathered outside. Your groom is waitin

She wanted to die beautifully. It was still early in the morning, and Grace drove her white car to a place quite far from her apartment. Near the beach, there was an abandoned mansion. Previously, the mansion was occupied by an old husband-and-wife couple until they died without heirs. The mansion ended up just sitting there until it was slowly damaged by time. The rumor said the mansion was haunted and the couple were actually witches. Some said they performed demonic rituals there. Because of that, no one dared to enter the mansion.

Hollis**** The mansion’s corridors were a labyrinth of decay, reeking of mildew and forgotten secrets. Each step echoed like a distant scream, and the oppressive silence wrapped around us like a predator waiting to strike. The air was thick, each breath heavy with the stench of rot, and every creak of the floorboards sent a jolt of adrenaline through my veins. I kept my grip firm on Hailey’s hand, her warmth grounding me even as icy dread crept further into my soul.

Rose imagined many things as she walked through the halls of the huge and imposing Vamcap mansion, being followed by her mother, cousin and sister, arm in arm with her father of the huge Vamcap mansion, while thinking about what her future husband would be like. She imagined him as a decrepit and disgusting old man, as na immature and arrogant boy her age and even as a frightening and ghostly figure, like Bram Stoker’s Dracula. However, when the four finally stopped in front of a large solid wooden door and an elderly man dressed as a butler allowed them to pass, Rose discovered that reality was very different from what she had imagined.

He waved his hand as he exited, the door clicking shut behind him. The beast was going to bite me, he was going to claim me. A shiver ran down my spine as the wolf's glowing eyes lingered in my mind, its hot breath still seeming to mist the air EILÍS As I pushed open the door to my chambers I was surprised to see it empty, after I had woken up from my forced slumber, I was told my bride was waiting in my room. I narrowed my eyes at the door leading to my bedroom, could she have run away? Did I terrify her that much? I walked towards the door and pushed it open, my breath hitching at the sight of her sitting on the edge of the bed, head lowered and hands held between her legs.