Life and Death
"You're single, right?"
Yes. Yes I am. I nod. The stranger's southern drawl melts through me like butter on hot cornbread. He slowly lowers the side of his suit jacket, again concealing the firearm at his hip.
"That's good. That's real good. You just stay that way." I flush as he winks at me. When he turns to walk toward the congregation waiting at the front of the chapel, I do something I've never done before. I heave a sigh of relief that I haven't gotten an engagement ring yet. For the first time, I am glad. My eyelids flutter uncontrollably. In my mild state of panic, I can't but marvel at how some things just work out.
Just work out?! This man has a gun holstered and he means to use it! At a wedding!! Are you out of your mind, girl?! Do something!
But I can't. It's not my wedding and really, hadn't I already hoped the bride's day would be ruined? I know I won't come to harm, won't be gunned down because I connected with the stranger. I told him I was single and that was a lie but he believed me.
His voice. Oh, God, his voice and I am helpless against it. That amused but serious, authoritative but serene, molasses-on-a-warm-day accent had my knees weak and my thighs wet. I would follow him, sex incarnate, regardless the havoc he was about to wreak. He was murder and delicious. I will follow you, I swear. To the end of the world.
I try to avoid my boyfriend's eyes. In the chaos of arriving guests, we've been separated. It seems decades since we last spoke, since this gunslinger captured me, heart, mind, and soul. If my boyfriend finds me, comes to me, the stranger will know. I rush off to a corner at the back of the room. Take a seat behind a large, distracting group, hold my service leaflet to my face like a mask. Sit down with your friends. Just sit down with them. You can find me later.
It's obvious he's panning the room for me, but the stranger is looking around, too, and so I can't let him know where I am. Instead I arch in my seat, suddenly aware of the oppressive heat in the chapel. The music begins. Under the silk canopy and even silkier violins, the guests take their seats. What was a cacophony becomes a murmur. The stranger meanders down the side aisle, a panther about to gain release from an invisible cage.
The bride enters, practically shimmering with happiness. There is a brief crash and then, in a momentary fit of prophecy, she freezes halfway up the aisle and begins to cry. "No. Please, God, no," she whimpers.
The stranger reveals his secret.
"Ladies and Gentlemen! I do apologize, but if I could turn your attention away from our lovely bride for just one moment--"
The guns explode, bullets tearing through the stomachs of a middle aged couple nearby. A scream, a panic, a corporal tidal wave as hundreds of bystanders try to flee simultaneously. They fail.
In my confusion I look back to see five other bachelors with guns exposed. The crowd retreats to their former seats. The stranger laughs.
"Aww, don't go nowhere! We're just gettin' warmed up!" That grin again. It sang a juxtaposition of madness and clarity. "Who here wants to celebrate love and romance?! Why not call marriage what it is?! DEATH! The death of this young couple before you and no one says a word, let alone screams one! And here I shoot two people--already dead inside--and everybody gets up to run. Who among you is alive?! Who among you is SINGLE?!"
Nervous hands creep into the air. And me? My legs cross, one foot dangling, swinging to and fro easily. A sultry smirk slides on to my face. I catch the stranger's eyes. Wink. I'm not playing at single anymore. I'm yours. God help me. Yours.
He answers my thoughts with a dozen shots, raining bullets and blood over the once pristine chapel. His brethren echo with shots of their own. The hall transforms into a morgue, eerily quiet save the bride's sobs. "No, please, no. I loved him," she mewls. The stranger approaches.
"You're alive, m'dear." He sounds like a knight who's slain a dragon, this man who has killed her near-husband, her family, her dreams. She breaks down as her tears cascade over her rumpled dress. Chest heaving, this ruined bride collapses on the floor over his foot. And yet I am drawn to him, in a way I cannot explain. I glide over the injured and dying to sidle close to him. I lap at his throat. I bite his ear. I breathe in his heady scent and his bloodlust becomes mine own.
"Whereas I..." he sighs, trailing off into a kiss deeper than I've ever known. My heart skips a beat. "Oh, mercy me, but I think my life may be nearly over..."