Wedding Roulette

Submitted into Contest #264 in response to: Write a story from the POV of a plus-one.... view prompt

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Mystery Drama Horror

This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence, gore, or abuse.

She fidgeted with the white invitation, tracing its edges every time she seemed to have a troubling thought. Anxiety isn’t something I would ever associate with her; she’s more of a social butterfly-something I both love and resent. I wanted to rub her arm reassuringly, but she didn’t give me any sign that it would be proper. Although, she flew me across the country for this. Just the two of us. We sat side by side for hours on the plane. I even carried her bags and let her sleep on my shoulder. Still, I rested with something simple:

“It’s going to be alright.” She didn’t look up, but she did offer a faint smile. My heart raced as I gathered up the courage to add, “Besides… you look beautiful.” Her smile brightened a bit more, and I couldn’t help but smile back, grateful for that small response.

The mansion we approached is smaller than others I’d seen, but it has its charm and elegance. The walkway to the stairs is lined with white and gold streetlamps and red roses. Valets parked the limousines and also held the double doors open, with big smiles plastered on their faces as they greeted everyone. The valet holding the left door open barely fit his uniform. His muscular frame and sharp jawline are exactly Angelica’s type-the opposite of me. 

“Welcome, ma’am, lovely dress,” he greeted suggestively. Normally she’d have even flirtier words than that, however, she kept walking in silence. I didn’t understand. She was usually talkative and playful, but now she was quiet, clearly preoccupied with something serious.

Throughout high school I had a huge crush on her and eventually became her friend. When we ended up going to the same college together, I took it as a sign, hoping she thought the same. But she didn’t wait long to get herself a college boyfriend. When I had confronted her about it, she played dumb, acting like she didn’t know what I meant. We didn’t speak for months. Then she reached out to invite me to take this trip with her. No boyfriend in sight. As I looked at the top of her head, I wondered if she had changed her mind about rejecting me. A strange wave of emotion washed over me- nervousness and excitement.

             We were guided to take our seats immediately. I’ve never been to a wedding, so I’m more eager to listen than question. We are one of the first pairs to arrive and we are guided to sit on the right side, second to back row. As others took their seats, I couldn’t shake a question that has been nagging me since she gave me the plane ticket.

“Are you still with Matt?” I blurted.

She paused her tracing eyes to partially look at me, making me feel uneasy about my question..

“No…I’m not.” She rubbed her arm and smoothed down her black dress nervously. I straightened my posture and loosened my tie in a sort of wonderment. I now brought out my fantasies of her latching onto my arm in a public setting and her lips on mine. I was still uncertain, but it felt safe to dream. I wanted to make a move in some way, but I decided to wait till after the ceremony.

“Ladies and gentlemen! I thank you all for making it here, we are very happy to have your company.” The priest was already here, and the ceremony was about to begin. He appeared to be in his 50s, thin, with salt and pepper hair. The chatter quieted as he spoke into the microphone. He flipped through a pile of papers before he continued, “I must inform that this is no ordinary wedding”, he spoke slowly, his eyes gleaming as they roamed the audience, “rather, you are all grooms and brides.” 

I waited for him to elaborate or explain it was just his dry sense of humor. Everyone else seemed to have the same question as nearly all voices ceased. But he didn’t. I looked at Angelica who ran her hand through her hair in a contemplative confusion similar to mine. Maybe I’m a fool, as the air didn’t call for this thought, but I imagined what marrying her would be like. I shook my head to rid myself of those thoughts.

“Do we have any volunteers?” He asked assumingly. A woman raised her hand, trying to drag her boyfriend to stand up.

“Us! Us!” she proclaimed.

“Ah yes, the pretty woman in yellow, please.”

She excitedly walked over, her boyfriend slowly following. They stood before the priest, her on the left, him on the right. She reached her hands out to grab his. He rubbed his face sorely before reluctantly linking his hands with hers. A veil was brought out and attached to her head by a woman who had the same face as everyone else. A big smile and bright eyes.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together to join the two in holy matrimony a promise of them to love,” I couldn’t believe this was happening and so fast, as though it weren’t unusual. 

Why send out invitations to do this?

Or maybe they are the real groom and bride, though it’s a weird way of getting married.

I took a look at Angelica trying to read if she knew this was going to happen. After all, she told me it’s her cousin’s wedding.

“to cherish,” a valet came and brought a stool and blue pillow. He placed the pillow on top of the stool to the side and between the two. I looked around, trying to gauge what others thought. Many had worried faces as they looked at their partner, and others were inching from their seats, ready to bolt but stayed out of sheer curiosity. Maybe this is an event for couples to get married. I jumped in surprise when I thought of that, and I looked at Angelica. 

“to kill.” His voice and demeanor lowered into darkness and the valet placed a handgun on the pillow. The woman’s face twisted in confusion as she looked at her partner.

“Connor? Wha-what’s going on,” she stammered. Connor’s expression never changed; he didn’t look upset nor happy.” She looked at the gun while Connor stared blankly at her. The woman tried her best to reason with him, but he quickly grabbed the gun and shot her in the chest. She groaned and shakily fell backwards.

A valet dragged her away and Connor was escorted to a back room.

My throat dried and I couldn’t breathe or hardly think.

My legs slightly raised my body in horror.

I want out, we need to leave.

Now.

I grabbed Angelica’s hand, and like many, rose and scrambled to the exit. Angelica was wallowing in anguish. I hardly even processed what just happened as my instincts took over. I turned to see four valets aiming their guns at us. I swerved Angelica behind me and crouched.

They all fired once.

Screams and shrieks pierced the air, loud enough to break glass, that’s when I realized there were no windows. Only one exit.

“No one leaves. Everyone, sit down.” The priest calmly instructed. Everyone was hesitant, holding in their sobs. Angelica covered her mouth with her right hand while her other one grabbed onto me. But some slowly crouched to help the victims who had fallen to the floor. The priest looked to his right, and one valet shot into the crowd. Another dead. We all gasped, and I kept Angelica behind me and brought her back to our seat. Everyone else had to put away their desire to help the victims, to comply. Valets now came to drag the bodies away. A woman held her hand out longingly to a body, and a valet quickly turned his head toward her. Then a valet from afar shot her, and she slumped limply in her seat. It was sickening. My stomach churned at how much tragedy happened in just five minutes.

“Who’s next?” The priest smiled.

No one offered.

I was paralyzed but wanted to jump out of here. Angelica was crying, sniffling, her eyes closed in fear. I rubbed her back and held her close to me. I didn’t know what to say or do, but I was outraged at this man. 

“Alright, let’s start here.” The priest now gestured to the couple in the front on the left side. They didn’t want to leave those chairs, but they also didn’t want to get shot. They looked at each other with hints of distrust. They didn’t walk alongside each other when they approached the stand. A valet returned the gun to the pillow. So many emotional problems were involved in this demented game. I turned to Angelica, who held her wrists crossed over each other on her lap. She looked down at her hands and occasionally glanced up at the pair with wincing eyes. It pained me too.

The pair looked at the gun.

The man reached for it, but the woman was quicker.

“Wow, were you really going to do it!?” She yelled. He was quiet, his shoulders scrunched up in a frozen stance. “Answer me!”

“I… no… just” he stammered, lost for words. This was worse than any argument you could have with your partner. I hoped she doesn’t shoot but I also didn’t know what happens if you don’t. She aimed the gun at him, but then her eyes shifted from ideas of betrayal to realization. She moved it to shoot at the side of him just in time.

“Actually, you are the problem!” She turned to the priest who now took a staunch position. The lady now aimed at the priest, and he didn’t even move. 

She took the shot, and I heard a faint click.

The chamber was empty.

The woman stepped back before both her and her partner were shot by valets. The bodies were dragged away, and the leaned forward to speak into the mic. 

“You might want to show your plus-one the invitation.”

I stared straight ahead, eyes wide from the shock of the deaths, and then to what the priest had said. Angelica held her right arm over her torso, crumpling the invitation in her hand. 

“Angelica?” I asked. She turned her head away. “Angelica.” I reached over her, fighting for the invitation she refused to let me see. I pried her fingers from it, and it tore a little. I smoothed it and then hunched away from her as she tried to reach it again.


Dear Angelica, you are cordially invited to a

wedding.

You must bring any guest you are willing to never see

again.


As I read, the chaos of others arguing and crying faded into the background. I looked forward. Another man was outraged at what he read. Then I turned around to Angelica, She cried and placed her hands on my back to soothe.

“Look … I’m, I am so, so sorry. I had to… please understand.” Her tears are dripping off her face, but I feel cold to it.

“Why would you do this to me! I’ve never done anything wrong to you! I did everything I could for you!”

“I know, I know, and I didn’t want to, I tried to get out of it, but I was followed and threatened-”

“I don’t care what happened! I just can’t believe this, you!”

“You were the only one who would come, I tried-”

“Yeah, I came! Because I love you!”

Her expression changed to one of shock, as if what I said was crazy and didn’t make sense. It disgusts me, her surprise, like she was trying to turn it all back to herself with one look. I didn’t want to see it.

Gunshots pounded everyone because of the chaos. Three people died, and their partners soon joined them.

The so-called priest didn’t give the marital speech nor dress the bride anymore. He must have done that before as some means to toy with our mind. 

How psychopathic to enjoy that.

We looked down avoiding the sights of anguish and death. But we couldn’t block out the sounds: panicked rambling, a shot, a groan and the thud of a body hitting the floor. That was enough to paint the picture. And we couldn’t speak or plot a way to escape.

We waited with one question poisoning our minds: should I die or be the killer?

There was some structure. Everyone was able to know when it was their turn, left side first, front to back, and the same would be for us on the right side. The rules I gathered were that if you didn’t shoot or if you missed or caused trouble, then both you and your partner were killed. This forced everyone to view our partner as essential but also a blockade to freedom. But I couldn’t allow myself to fall into those cynical ideas. I kept thinking of other ways to get Angelica and me out of here.

I looked up, examining the priest and valets. Amongst the death, the priest was unaffected, more interested in what led up to the deaths than the deaths itself. 

Is this some twisted social experiment?

The priest was protected. Valets with guns stood guard by the priest, two were on the pair that would be in the center, and more guns were trained on the rest of us. But the need for that grew to be less and less as fewer people were in these chairs. Now, only three pairs were ahead of us. Panic rose in me, causing my body to tremble with disbelief and fury.

Two pairs remained.

I fumbled in my seat, anxious, like I was counting down a nuclear explosion.

One Pair left. The priest called them out. I looked over Angelica and held eye contact with a young man, who couldn’t have been older than sixteen. His eyes almost begged for help as uncertainty jumbled his movements. The gunshot sound hit me harder than any before.

Now, it was our turn.

Angelica and I looked at each other longingly when our names were called. Walking to the center of the floor was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, but I knew it was going to get worse. I couldn’t kill her; that I knew. We stared at each other, no words, the overwhelming emotion spoke enough. She didn’t move toward the gun, and I wasn’t going to either. Her face was red, and her eyes were brimming with tears. 

She grabbed the gun.

She aimed it at me with both hands gripping it tightly. My hands instinctively flew up.

“Wait … I-” I couldn’t say anything. If she shot me she would live, if she didn’t we would both die. There was no negotiating, rather, I needed to say my last words. 

“I’ve always loved you…take the shot.” My body scrunched up in fear, but I wouldn’t move. She was overrun with tears.

Then she pulled the trigger.

Wind rushed pass my shoulder and my head. I was still here alive and pain free.

Angelica was hyperventilating and wiped her eyes. When she realized she missed, she was stunned and cried out in sadness. I looked behind me to see a hole in the flooring. There is a valet from both sides of us, ready to shoot. The image of her disappointed face for not shooting me appeared in my mind. I grabbed the gun from Angelica’s hands and hit her over the head with it. This confused the shooter aiming at her and then I covered myself with her body where she was shot by the shooter aimed at me. I lost my strength at what I had done, and her body fell to the floor. 

“Oh… oh my god.” Her death shattered me completely. The valet on her side quickly aimed back at me, and I wanted him to shoot me.

Let me join her.

But the priest halted him. Instead, two valets dragged me by my arms, forcing me to walk as they guided me to the back room.

In this room lie many killers. An uneasy feeling hung in the sir. Everyone here hates themselves and is restrained from hating each other. Many were in tears or had pain-stricken faces, much like mine. No one wanted to look or be looked at, and I sat as far away from the entrance to that room of hell as I could. We all waited in silence, consumed by our own guilt. Every minute was absolute agony. We heard four more gunshots and four sets of solemn footsteps enter the room.

The priest then walked in with two valets, as the rest were likely cleaning up the mess.

“Congratulations. You all have passed.” His voice was abhorrent and none of us matched his enthusiasm.

One woman stood up, “you just made us kill those we love, and our invitations were tailored to be as manipulative as possible. You are a terrible man.” Her strength was amazing, but I feared it would kill her. “Ma’am, allow me to continue.” The priest was calm, and surprisingly, she and the guns were silent.

“You all have proven your strength to act when under pressure, to set aside your emotions for what’s important, as such, I’d like to hire you and teach you the ways to be rich and in control in a realm free from the restraints of the ordinary. Now you have a choice, leave or stay.” No one believed him. But the woman walked on out, through the door we came through. There was no sound of gunshot. Maybe we do have a choice. I thought carefully about everything. 

“Anyone else?” I raised my hand. “Ah, you young man. Care to stay?”

“I do.”

August 24, 2024 01:45

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