Shredded My Dress, Shattered Our Vows

Vanessa's scream was ear-piercing. Blood gushed through her fingers, staining her white dress.

"Bitch! You stabbed me?" she shrieked, her hair a tangled mess. "Get them! Kill these bastards!"

I raised the scissors to strike again, but a goon kicked me hard, sending me crashing into the dress rack. The impact tore my wound open, and I nearly blacked out from the pain.

Chris threw himself over me, shielding me as another goon's knife slashed down, cutting deep into his arm. Blood sprayed, soaking his shirt.

"Chris!" I screamed.

Vanessa pointed at us, yelling, "Shut them up! Cut them into pieces! My husband is Clarence Thompson! Whatever happens, I've got this!"

The goons closed in, their blades glinting. Chris stood firm, his voice shaking with fury. "The Thompsons, huh? Now this is war!"

Another knife struck, slicing into his abdomen. He grunted, blood spilling onto me, hot and metallic. A goon swung a chair, smashing it over his head.

Chris collapsed onto me, his weight heavy. His blood blurred my vision, my cries mixing with the goons' shouts.

"Chris! Wake up!" I cried.

A goon kicked me in the back, and I hit the floor beside Chris, his blood smearing my face.

When I came to, I was trapped in a glass enclosure on a rooftop. The summer sun blazed, turning the space into an oven.

My skin burned, sweat and blood evaporating into a crusty layer. My limbs were bound with rope, and a rag was stuffed in my mouth, silencing my cries.

"Awake, huh?" Vanessa loomed over me, smirking. "Back in the day, sluts like you got drowned in cages. Too bad I didn't finish you off."

I made muffled noises, the rag soaked with blood. From the corner of my eye, I saw Chris lying nearby, his blood baked into a dark stain on the ground.

"Chris!" I tried to scream, tears evaporating as soon as they fell.

"Quit whining," Vanessa said, grinning. "Clarence called me. He's coming to settle the score."

She crouched down, looking at me like I was trash. "What will he do when he learns you hurt me? Bet he'll kill you to make me happy."

She waved to her goons, who dragged in buckets of glowing charcoal. "Let me warm you up a bit, so you won't be cold bodies."

The heat in the glass box skyrocketed, my hair singeing, my lungs choking on the fumes. I vomited blood, but the rag forced it back down, burning my throat. I thrashed, but the ropes cut deeper, drawing blood that dried instantly on my skin.

Just then, my phone rang. Clarence's name lit up the screen.

I glared, writhing to reach it. With my hands tied, I swiped the screen with my face, finally hitting the answer button.

"What's with the drama?" he sulked. "I told you I'd handle the wedding plans."

I wanted to scream that I was done with him, that he could save me now, and we could part ways cleanly. But the rag choked my words into garbled sounds.

Vanessa noticed, her face twisting. "Who are you talking to?"

She lunged for the phone, but I pressed it to my chest, refusing to let go. The charcoal's heat rolled over me, my body dehydrating and my eyelids heavy.

Only rage kept me going. "Clarence, you'd better pray Chris and I make it, or you are going down with Vanessa!"