Till death do us part.
The forest from my nightmare hadn't been a figment of my imagination. I had walked there before, drawn by the dewy silence that drifted between the ancient trees.
Tom doubted my certainty that Santana would take Gabrielle there, fearing we would waste precious time. I could offer no rational explanation, only a plea for him to trust me. He was visibly surprised when we found Santana's car concealed in the bushes at the edge of the woods. In the distance, we heard faint cries for help. My heart surged — it was Gabrielle. She was alive, but terrified.
We plunged into the thorny darkness, leaving the last light of evening behind us. Beneath Gabrielle's frightened voice ran another sound, far more disturbing. It wasn't the cry of a bird or beast, but something human — and yet not. A primal, unnatural scream that stirred a deep, instinctive fear.
Our eyes adjusted to the gloom. We were close. Tom suddenly motioned for silence. I could barely see him, but I understood. We froze, listening.
Then, without warning, Tom collapsed face-first into the undergrowth. Before I could reach him, something dragged him away into the blackness. I ran after him, shouting his name, grasping desperately for his hands, but the forest swallowed him whole. I was alone.
Shouting was now too dangerous. I had no idea how many were out there, and no one knew where we were. I forced myself to breathe, imagining I was back in my cemetery. I let its deep tranquillity flow through me until my mind steadied. Only then did I notice the subtle, unnatural shifting of the trees around me. Had I not seen it, I would have wandered in circles until I was lost.
Eventually I reached a moonlit clearing — a perfect grassy circle with a freshly dug pit at its centre. It looked exactly like the grave from my dream. As I turned to leave, Santana appeared behind me, silent as a cat, shovel raised. The blow was swift and brutal. I tumbled backwards into the pit, landing hard on my spine.
Gasping for air, I looked up and saw Gabrielle's terrified face. Santana held her by the hair, dangling her over the edge. My angel cried out when she saw me. Santana yanked her back, pressing a knife to her throat.
"You two have caused me nothing but trouble!" Santana hissed. "This little bitch was far stronger than I expected. Every day I poisoned her, just a little. I had to stop myself from strangling her in her sleep. It all had to look natural — just like with her mother. And then there was you, sexton. If only you had given me the necklace, I would have left you both alone. But no — you wanted war."
"Please," I begged, finally catching my breath. "Don't hurt her. Let us go. We'll disappear. No one will ever hear from us again."
"It's too late for that," she snarled. "You've stirred up too much shit. This time I'll make sure neither of you ever climbs out of your grave. Dead or alive when I bury you — it makes no difference to me."
She struck Gabrielle and tried to shove her into the pit. My girl fought back fiercely. Santana raised the knife, threatening to carve up her face. I struggled to stand, but the fall had left me dizzy and weak.
Then came the gunshot.
Gabrielle screamed.
Santana swayed on the edge of the pit, staring in shock at the dark bloom spreading across her chest. She teetered for a moment, then toppled in, landing heavily on top of me.
She was still alive. Her nauseating strawberry breath brushed my neck as she leaned close.
"Don't you dare fuck me when I'm dead, sexton," Santana whispered.
Two violent shudders ran through her body. Then she went limp, a dead weight I quickly pushed aside.
"Gabrielle!" I called, my voice cracking.
"We're fine, Nicolas," Tom groaned from above. "The girl has a nasty cut on her arm, but she'll live."
"Tom! You're alive!"
"Barely. That bitch got me good. Now let's get you out of there and to the hospital."
***
The journey back through the dark forest left us utterly exhausted. Tom called for an ambulance. While we recovered in hospital, we received many visitors — mostly curious locals eager to hear the story of Gabrielle's miraculous return from the dead.
I had little patience for them. The memory of how eagerly they had tried to bury me alive still burned. Gabrielle, however, never tired of telling the tale.
Shortly after leaving hospital, we married. Her father gave his reluctant blessing. I soon realised Gabrielle hadn't exaggerated his indifference. Her return stirred little joy in him. He mourned Santana briefly before returning to his old life. I even heard he had already found a new, even younger companion.
My life is now Gabrielle. We are two happy fools, insatiable for one another. She moved in with me, and together we care for the cemetery. I removed the broken tombstone from her old grave and planted a bed of tailflowers there instead.
At night, we walk the grounds hand in hand, enjoying the silence, whispering sweet nonsense to each other. Then we return to our bedroom.
I open the lid of the wide coffin I built for us both, lift her into my arms, and lay down inside with her. I make love to her until she falls asleep in my embrace. When the purple haze drifts over us, I close the lid and fall asleep beside my love.