• And it was I, the forlorn gravedigger; he who lays to rest both heroes and fiends; who bore witness to the unraveling of time and the void.

    Many times had I witnessed the untimely end, of those innocent and undeserving. As with all cadverous beauty, the peacefulness and serenity in their eyes had given me a dark pleasure. The sight of the gray and blue skin, and the sunken gorges of their lifeless muscles, aroused and amused my warped sensibilities. Sometimes sexually.
    But one customer, an abandoned patron, bewildered me beyond words. Yes, she was beautiful. She was even the most alluring corpse I had ever beheld. Her eyes had been mysteriously burned absent, and her lips bore a strange expression of awe. I cried a single tear in lament for the poetry before me.
    None had come to claim her, and not a penny was paid for any services. She, a hollow, raven-haired maiden, had simply been tossed to the boneyard without a care.
    I waited months for any word, and yet not even a whisper had sung it's song about her. Nothing.
    I had already embalmed her delicate frame perfectly, and it was senseless to allow such beauty to simply be buried. So I took the logical step. I took her home, and took care of her. She was now my responsibility.
    I was now a jubilant ghoul, a gravedigger who at long last knew companionship. Each day, her and I shared tea by the fire. She listened so well to my sorrows and toil. She even let me hold her cold corpse as we drifted into sleep. I was blessed. I now had the love of a truly perfect lady, who looked like no other.
    Her milky white porcelain doll skin, her billowy mavros hair, and the adorable way her eyeholes cast tiny shadows on her cheeks, all convinced me of her grave perfection. And the silence.... my favorite sound... was all I had ever heard from her. I was living in a necrotic paradise with my one true love. My nameless Bride.