The Corpse Groom

Years ago Striker, a ruthless outlaw, takes the seven rings of hell by storm. In a tragic twist of fate, the gunslinger was struck down by a Goetic commander and nobleman. As the commander and chief stood over the dying cowboy, the imp spits up into his face: a look of defiance shines in his eyes.

A gruff voice rumbles like a thunderstorm through the stagnant air. "you may have everyone fooled beast, but you will never fool me" hisses the Serpent Cowboy. As The Goeita Prince stomps on his chest, causing the snake imp's body to bounce as he wheezes in pain.

Blood blooms spreading across the wrangler's chest, as Striker coughs up blood on his hands and knees.

His mouth stained red with blood, he snarls up at his killer. Striker could feel his consciousness slowly slipping away.

The taste of hot copper curdles at the back of his throat. With shaking arms, he levels his guns at the large Goeita.

A look of meaningless pity flashes in the prince's eyes. Hard ruby eyes pierce the cowboy with their chilling gaze. He couldn't have the resistance kindling again: sparks of a revolution. The cowboy needed to be made into an example.

The commander couldn't risk having word get out to the main house. Stolas sneers down at the pale-skinned imp watching as light fades from the gunslinger's eyes before smirking coldly down upon him. Raising up his sword, he buries it into the Outlaw's chest. The Owl Prince drags the imp down into the gully, and into the dead woods, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. Gripping the cowboy's shoulder, he snaps it back until he could hear a sickening pop. Stolas grips Striker by his jaw, lifting him up into the air as a long talon traces his eyes. Striker lets out a blood-curdling scream as the commander digs his long talons into his eyes, ripping them out before he places them into a velvet bag. The Owl prince smiles, licking the blood from the imp's face before dropping the corpse into a shallow grave underneath a hangman's noose. He buries the legendary cowboy face down in the dirt.

Leaving the Cowboy's body to rot.

_

As the years passed, and the revolution was forgotten, a family of grifters were trotting along in an old gothic style coach. Imps were sold into slavery and Blitzo was set to marry Stolas against his will. Bequeathed to an Overlord of greed upon his mother's deathbed. The crimson imp was at the mercy of the king of greed and his zany son, Fizzorolli.

Masters of mind bending illusions this crooked family had the audacity to hoodwink one of the most credible families within the lust Ring.

Strongly believing that they could bleed out the Goeita bloodline by weaseling in one of their own.

The wedding arrangements were going to be settled on, upon their arrival to the Goeita estate. Who better to marry the ditsy blueblood than their very own loveless Harlequin?

Blitzo stares gloomily out through the painted glass panes of the carriage. Watching as the rain poured down from the skies wearing a dour expression on his face, like he was going to a funeral rather than attending his own wedding.

The plan was a simple one, to get the feathered bird brained to fall for his whimsical charms. Then, upon the night of their honeymoon, while Stolas was distracted, he'd poison him with untraceable toxins. The plan was flawless.

Fizzorolli would help Blitzo rehearse for months on end: he'd crawl between Blitzo's legs, acting drunk, squeezing Blitzo's thigh. Fizz grips Blitzo's head. Sucking on his tongue. Fizz runs his hands down the harlequin's thighs. As Blitzo hums into the kiss.

"Let's take it from the top," Fizz says, taking off his clothes.

_

Lady Estella Everclaw was the pivotal lady-in-waiting. She was Stolas's childhood sweetheart. She let her jealousy rule her, turning her into a cantankerous, vexing harpy. A blight on the dreary town of Evermore. Estella was smart as a whip and devious, too. As her obsession with the young nobleman grew.

Her love for the grim prince would turn fatal.

_

Fortunately for both Fizzorolli and Blitzo, Lord Mammon had the Goeita King and his lascivious Queen wrapped around his little pinky. King Atlas and Queen Avery wanted to get their greedy claws into Lord Mammon's vast fortunes. The King of Greed, the Jester of Lewdness, wasn't as poor as he acclaimed to be. He was a greedy man, seizing opportunities where he saw fit.

-

They soon arrived and were greeted by the King and Queen. Blitzo stood stock still as the King and Queen silently passed judgement upon him. This was the day the Harlequin had dreaded the most, and subsequently it was also the day that Lord Mammon and his son were pushing for and grooming Blitzo for years.

The scarlet imp groans, dragging his feet through the threshold leading into a massive den. A burning hearth sat ablaze nestled in the corner: the melodic sound of the grand piano filled the room.

The imp was stalling, hoping that one, if not both, would change their minds. Blitzo couldn't ignore the unsettling feeling: the unbridled dread washing over him, screaming at him to run.

But with one critical eye and a pointed look from his "Father" the young harlequin enters the family den. Coming to stand behind Stolas, who had his back- poised, and turned to the little devil. The owl prince sat at a grand Piano his eyes shut, immersed in the music. His nimble fingers were flying over the keys. He was appalled at his parents for even considering going through with an arranged marriage.

There was no need. They weren't dirt poor, this wasn't the stone-age. But then again, try telling that to King Atlas and his Queen, who were money hungry aristocrats.

Were they skirting the barrel again? was King Atlas double-dipping. He knew his father had a gambling problem and his mother loved the lavished life: full of dictum and poise.

Prince Stolas was a cold-blooded killer. His hands were stained with the blood of a filthy imp and here he was expected to marry one-.

The tiny imp was small 6'5 with crimson flesh with tiny scars marring his body. His eyes were made of kindling fires: he had a bombastic personalty that threatened to consume the cold-hearted prince.

It didn't take long for Blitzo to wheedle his way into the prince's icy heart, using his impish charms and wit.

In his own opinion, it worked a little too well, if you were to ask Blitzo. Infatuation caved away into dark temptation: lust melted away into obsession. Unfortunately for the commanding prince, it was all one-sided. Blitzo knew if he didn't partake in the absurdness of this situation, then Lord Mammon and Fizzorolli would make his life a living hell. The Harlequin was creeped out but found that he had no choice between the late night booty calls, the inane baby-talk: he was made to endure through and the obnoxious random phone calls late at night when everyone else got to sleep: was enough! He'd kill that squawking bird and make it look like an accident if he got one more booty call.

-

On one cold and blustery night as the frost was creeping in, getting ready to settle for the long season. The fireplace crackled and popped; the floorboards creaked and moaned. Blitzo had spent months cooped up in the Goeita estate under the scrutiny of the King and queen and other unnamed nobles. Between their hushed voices that burns through his ears and the looming wedding that was a catastrophe waiting to happen.

Blitzo was getting cold feet. He paced the den, listening to Stolas. As the aristocrat played the piano, ignoring his distraught fiancé.

The scarlet imp couldn't stand it. His thoughts were running rampant. Stolas paused in his playing to give the imp a scathing look. The Harlequin was thinking about running away, abandoning his family.

"If you're leaving, I expect you home by five tonight. Don't be late Blitzy," Blitzo pauses, looking at the prince.

It was as if Stolas could read his mind. "They all run eventually. Why should you be any different, and once were married little imp, your wings will be the first thing I clip,"

With that, Blitzo darted out of the room: he fled into the Dead Woods But, a pair of insidious eyes leers out from the shadows, watching the imp flee into the woods.

Blitzo heard manic footfalls. He peers back in time to see Fizzorolli barreling into him.

Fizz slams into him hard with enough force to knock the wind from his lungs, Slamming Blitzo into the rough bark of a dying tree. He snarls in his face. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Screams Fizzorolli before throwing him onto the ground, littered with fallen leaves.

Fizz crawls on top of him, punching Blitzo across the face. Blood splatters across the dead leaves as he captures Blitzo's hands, holding them above his head. He leers menacingly down as Blitzo tries to block against his brother's destructive tirade.

His eyes widen: fearful of what his brother was about to do. "Where the fuck do you think you're going? He growls into Blitzo's face. "Were so close, BlitzO stick to the plan," Fizz snarls, nipping his nose, before leaning down to capture Blitzo's mouth in a sinful kiss.

"A few more weeks, my little Harlequin, and will leave with a handsome dowry," Blitzo hums into the kiss. His tongue slides into fizz's mouth as the clown coaches him along. Blitzo breaks away, turning his head.

"I can't Fizz," he says. "Don't make me marry him. He's vile, crude and the way he talks to me" Blitzo shudders beneath his brother. Fizzorolli takes Blitzo's thumb into his mouth and suckles.

"Enough BlitzO!" Fizz growls, pressing his mouth to Blitzo's, ensnaring Blitzo's tongue with his teeth. "Remember dear brother, he is just a quick cash grab: whatever hideous habits he has you'll have to put up with and don't go falling in love with anyone but me"

"Your mine, bequeathed to my father upon your mother's deathbed," Fizz growls. His hot breath coasting along Blitzo's neck. The Harlequin's body shudders as he squirms beneath the jester.

Fizzorolli wedges his knee between Blitzo's legs, resting his kneecap on the Harlequin's abdomen.

Trapping the loveless clown beneath him. "Think of the money BlitzO, we'd be set for life, you, me and Mammon and if I wanted to, I could send you away upstate to that college you've been drooling over," Fizz purrs into his ears trying to sweeten the deal.

Fizz licks the shell of his ear before ripping open his jacket. Blitzo watches as his brass buttons fly in every direction.

"Mammon would never allow you to do such a thing," Blitzo counters, his eyes hardening on Fizz as he tries to sit up. The dubious clown pushes him back down on a bed of leaves. Tearing open his shirt, watching as Blitzo's nipples hardened from the cold. His hot breath washed over Blitzo's chest, causing the imp to shudder and writhe beneath him.

Fizz captures Blitzo's neck: nipping and gnawing, teasing and taunting. Knowing exact ally what do to cause a reaction. He kisses his neck, leaving little love bites that would turn into welts by the morning. His hand scrapes down the slope of Blitzo's chest. He could feel the imp purring.

"You leave daddy dearest to me and don't forget your place. You belong to me, my little Harlequin. It would be a shame if you ended up like your sister. The jester sneers into his ear.

Blitzo grits his teeth.

"Barbie-Wire," he whispers, his heart plummeting. He had found her splayed out and naked: her thighs were coated in seamen, her chest was littered with Knicks and bite marks. Her womb was evisorated, her face mangled.

Fizzorolli grips Blitzo's by the jaw, bringing him up, so that he was staring into his eyes which flickered with animosity. "Never lose sight of your goals, little brother," Fizz warns, licks the tears from his face. "Get your ass back there before those overgrown vultures start to congress around. "You blow our cover, little brother. A late night booty call will be the least of your worries, Fizz orders, running his fingers down Blitzo's chest.

"Now I have to go fuck a Goeita's brains out. She's snooping around and getting a little too close for my comfort." "

"Don't blow this for me little one, or you'll end up in the hospital again" Fizz warns, his steeling green eyes raking over Blitzo's lithe form. He unbuckles his belt reaching out he grips Blitzo by the shirt and drags him along the hollow ground: deeper and deeper he takes the Harlequin, who is kicking and screaming into the forest.

Shredding his brother's clothing and strewing it through the forest. As Blitzo scrambles, He lays him underneath the Hangman's noose, spreading his legs. Blitzo peers up at the swinging noose as Fizz's arm wraps around him. He could feel the tip of Fizz's member penetrate him.

The imp cries out in pain, twisting in his brother's mechanical arms.

Faster and faster, Fizz drives into him, unrelenting. His stomach curdles as Blitzo tries to get away.

Fizzorolli pulls out only to thrust back in: Blitzo screams, his cries muffled by dead leaves. It felt like hours beneath the hangman's tree where his brother continuous violented him.

There was greed and poeession in every thrust. Splitting pain erupts, causing the Harlequin to curl up into himself.

Fizz bit savagely into the crevice of his neck, feeling the warm blood pool in his mouth as he rode out his omasum. Leaving Blitzo cold and wet, his hands tied with a chord of rope behind his back.

Hanging from the noose of the Hangman's tree. Poised on his toes, he was left to think by the malicious clown.

_

Blitzo works his hands feverishly, while trying to maintain his balance. His could feel his hands growing numb as blood trickles down his neck. His heart was pulsating in his chest. He stood previously on a rotting log, the same log he was fucked over.

Blitzo closes his eyes, feeling an icy chill go through his naked body. "Come back when you're ready to apologize to the prince," Fizzorolli's voice echoes in his head.

Working his wrists, Blitzo wipes the blood dribbling out from his mouth on his arm.

"Oh God, that was close," he thought as the rope fell to the ground, pulling his head from the noose before the rotting log collapsed into itself, sending them flailing into the dead leaves.

Blitzo's eyes darken as he went about retrieving his clothes. The imp winces in pain, pulling on his pants. Bending down, he picks up a little black box: Tilla's wedding rings, gleams brightly in the grim forest.

Blitzo took a shuddering breath. He didn't want to face anyone right now. Not is his current condition, he doubted Stolas would care; he knew Mammon would just narrow his eyes at him and make him run a gauntlet of aerials when they got back to Loo-Loo-land.

Blitzo hisses as he looks around for a ravine to wash himself in. Since he was left to his own devices, he made the best of it by rehearsing his vows.

Hollow, meaningless vows.

He pictures Stolas, standing in the window peering out into the dead woods: a haughty expression on his face. "nothing warm and fuzzy there" Blitzo mutters to himself. As he fumbles across his lines.

The thought of his sister left a sour taste in his mouth. She didn't deserve that. But Mammon just brushed her away. He didn't care about the siblings. Just what they could provide for him. And, when he realized which twin had talent: it was all downhill for Blitzo. Luckily, Mammon saw Barbie-Wire as a lady of the night.

He was quick to pair his son up with the remaining twin. "now if he wanted to go to college to get away from the psycho circus of a family, he'd have to play by their rules. He envisioned the university lead by Charlie Morningstar. His freedom was days away, so with determination he tosses the ring up and catches it.

Moonlight shone above him, filtering through the skeletal branches of the forest. Blitzo could see the King and Queen reflected in the gnarled stumps. Ahead of him, A grotesque root stuck out of the dirt, near the old gully. A gleam of marrow: reflected in the moonlight went unnoticed by the imp.

As the scarlet devil went about reciting his lines.

"With this hand, I shall lift your sorrows."

"Your cup will never empty, for I shall be your wine."

"With this candle I shall light your way in darkness,"

"And, with this ring, I ask you to be mine.