Amateur Author

Emma was led into the throneroom. She assumed the tapastries portaying horrible acts of death and destruction were not decoration placed on the walls for the wedding. The guests consisted of nothing but hooded and robed men and women, all positioned in a broad cresent shape around two thrones. The less elaborate and slightly lower placed one would be hers, she guessed. In a corner, several Eluvians patiently awaited what was to come. They had obviously been invited by the overlord, wanting to spend his moment of victory with as much people as possible.

The cultists started to chant. Emma couldn’t understand it, because it was all in latin. It did sound earie to her and she suspected whatever they were saying, it wouldn’t be something very pleasant. The room was engulfed in a dark, evil atmosphere.

Her bridesmaids guided her towards her husband to be, the overlord of Ragnarok, leader of the cult. His face, especially his haunted looking eyes, made her skin crawl and the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

Her bridesbouquet were black roses, nicely matching the weddingdress in the cult’s colours; pitch black and blood red. Her clevage revealed more then she would have liked, and the entire ensamble was far from comfortable. Her face was covered by a hood attached to a long cape and a black lace mask. She wore gloves that had sharp metal claws attached to the fingertips. Emma suspected they had planned to `program` her to be exactly what the overlord had wanted her to be, but her premature awakening must have foiled their plans. They must have not had time to change the attire, or simply assumed she wouldn’t resist. The were right; she wouldn’t.

When she ended up next to the overlord, the chanting stopped abruptly. A short old man emerged from the shadows, wearing a preverted version of a priests attire.

‘Mylady,’ he said with a greeting bow. ‘Mylord,’ he said and bowed in a simular fashion to the overlord. He then turned his attention to the congrigation. ‘Brothers of Ragnarok, Sisters of the Abyss. Today, on this gloriously dark day, our order will rise from the pits of hell, and claim its rightful place in the galaxy. Today, we will unite wisdom,’ he turned towards the overlord to point him out, and then turned to face Emma. ‘… and vision, to lead us to our destiny.’

The men and women cheered and stomped their feet. Emma was glad her face was hidden from sight so they couldn’t see how scared she was. She gathered all of her courage, because she suspected the ceremony would not be a lengthly one. At least, she hoped it wouldn’t be.

‘Now, let the unification commence!’ the dark priest continued. ‘Do you, overlord of the Brotherhood of Ragnarok, leader of the Abyss, Iramus Zerecuse, take this woman to be your bride in darkness?’

‘I take this woman in darkness,’ he replied with a horrible lustful smirk.

Emma wasn’t sure it was powerhungry lust, physical lust or a combination of both. Either way, she wished she could just close her eyes and be somewhere else, somewhere very very far away from here.

‘And do you, Lady of the Brotherhood of Ragnarok, sister of the Abyss, Malice Haydes, take this man to be your husband in darkness?’

Emma hated the name they had come up with for her. Suck it up, Em. They’ll kill you if you don’t. Play along, she thought, inhaled deeply and spoke; ‘I take this man in darkness.’

‘Then, reveal yourself to your subjects!’ the priest wailed.

As rehersed with the women that had dressed her – a few of the Sisters of the Abyss, the female counterparts of the cult – she turned to face the crowd, and removed the hood from her head.

They chanted something in latin, three times over, and she faced the overlord again.

‘Ragnarok and the Abyss approve!’ the priest translated, as if they had any real say in it. ‘Overlord, reveal her to yourself.’

The overlord removed the lace screen from her head, and revealed her face. They had even done her make-up in the cult colours; black lipstick, red eyeshadow and an attempt to make her look a malevolant by emphasizing certain lines with black eyeliner. They had only partially succeded. He spoke the same words as the clergy had spoken, also three times in a row.

‘The overlord approves!’ the priest wailed. ‘Let a kiss now seal this unity, and bind these two in sacret matremony!’

For the second time, Emma encouraged herself in her mind; It’s only a kiss. Can’t be that bad. Pretend it’s Jaydon. She couldn’t, but managed to keep a straight face, as the overlord grabbed it, and pressed his mouth onto her lips. His tongue twisted, and turned like a rabbid snake. She needed to concentrate really hard not to retch.

‘Glory to the happy couple!’ the priest shouted and the clergy joined in to cheer.

The overlord waved at his people as if he was a very loved man. Emma, still believing beating them would be impossible at this point, so joining them would be her only viable option, waved at them too, although a bit shy, and tried to look happy in stead of nausiated.

The overlord gestured his followers to stop cheering. They obeyed almost instantly. She hesitantly lowered her arm and held onto her bridesbouquet with both hands again.

‘And now…’ the overlord hollered, ‘… your lady will use her gift to peer into the future and prophesize the arrival of Ragnarok!’

The crowd cheered, they loved it. Finally they would know when they would become higher beings. Emma gulped and tried to hide her worried frown. She estimated she had about five minutes to live if she didn’t play along convincingly enough… or worse; much, much longer.

With the words screw it bouncing around in her brain, she took a step forward and theatrically held her hands above her head, the black roses still in one hand. ‘Brothers! Sisters!’ she yelled, giving a performance that could make a seasoned actress jealous. Fear can be a great motivator.

The suspence in the room could now be cut with a knife. The breathless crowd awaited her words impatiently. She could even hear the overlord holding his breath.

‘As I turn my eyes towards the future, past the mysts of revelation, I see…’ She added a dramatic pause.

At that particular point in time, her natural ability to see into the immediate future kicked in, and turned her catatonic for a second. As usual, her pupils narrowed, and all external sensory was shut down for the process. As the moment passed, her senses went back to normal and she stammered ‘… hundreds of police officers storming the building.’

‘What?’ the overlord hollored while a worried murmer emminated from the followerd. ‘When?’

‘This is the police.’ A demanding voice flooded the interior of the stronghold the cult had taken as their home. ‘You are all under arrest. We order you to surrender your weapons, and stay where you are with your hands on your head facing the nearest wall. Comply and we can do this without unnessacary bloodshed.’

Unfortunately, the cult liked unnessacary bloodshed very much.