Short Thriller Stories

6. The Unwed Bride

The bells of Woodvale Church rang in the distance. The lights were dim, and the moon was out. I always liked the night. The surreal yet eerie feeling when you're all alone in the dark. That was why I took the job as a graveyard worker.
I've heard about the rumors surrounding Woodvale Church. Or rather, the rumors surrounding her. The Unwed Bride. Amelia Crawford. Rumor has it her husband died on her wedding day, and she was left at the altar, weeping. Overcome by grief, Amelia killed herself that same night. Some people think she killed her husband, while others believe she was a witch and cursed him. Some even say her spirit haunts the church, looking for her next husband. I, personally, don't believe any of it. It's all just folklore. An urban legend made up by the people of Fallbrook to use as dinner talk on Halloween.
I walk around the graveyard and feel the cool rush of the wind. Who knew October could be this cold? I button up my corduroy jacket and continue my shift as normal. And then, I feel it. A prickly feeling at the back of my neck, like someone's watching me. I don't need to turn around to know that no one's there. I've learned to sense it. It's just something that comes naturally. You can always tell when something's wrong. Nevertheless, I turn, but all I see are the red brick walls of Woodvale Church. It towers over me, appearing both sinister and mysterious. I approach Woodvale Church slowly, and then realize that it wouldn't hurt to go inside. It's not like anyone's there. And besides, I'm on duty, so if anyone asks, I'll say I was just making sure that no one broke in.
I get to the front when I notice something. The lights are on. Strange. I could've sworn they were off just a minute ago. But then again, I don't exactly have the best memory. Without hesitating, I grabbed the handle, and went inside the haunted Woodvale Church for the very first time.
The first thing I noticed was how huge it was. It didn't look this big on the outside. The floor was covered in golden tiles and a lit chandelier hung from the dome-shaped ceiling. There were candles lighting up the church, adorned with white roses. A gust of wind rushed through the church and I started to feel chills. I walked further in until I reached the altar. Then, I hear the slamming of a door behind me. I turn, and see that the door is locked. The lights start to flicker and then they go out. I can still see the faint light of the candles in the distance, so I follow them. I get to the other side of the altar, and then I see it. A small, golden box perched on the side of the altar. I open it and the first thing I see is a ruby ring. The same ring that Amelia's husband proposed to her with.

December 12, 1991, St. John's Hospital
I slowly walk down the hall, still in my nightgown. The door is locked, but I peer through the window. I see a woman on her hospital bed, holding a baby girl. She smiles at her, and the baby smiles in return. A doctor approaches the woman and the baby, and that's when I really notice her. The same ebony black hair and ocean blue eyes. I look at the woman through the door again, but this time, the doctor's not there. And neither is the baby. I watch it all unfold in slow motion. The woman finds out her baby's gone. The woman screams. Nurses and other doctors rush in, but the baby is nowhere to be found. Then, I see the doctor who was in the room with the baby just seconds before. I was able to see the name tag on her. Dr. Denise Sinclair. The woman starts crying hysterically, pulling my attention back to the window. That's when she sees me. Through her tear-stained face, she whispers one word to me: gone.

Present Day
I snap back into reality. I look down at the golden box and the ruby stone on the ring is glowing a bright red. Then, under the dim lighting of the candles, I see her. A beautiful woman standing at the far back of the church. The woman feared by many. The woman who is said to haunt this church for years. Amelia Crawford.
She slowly walks towards me, her long, white dress draping on the floor. It's odd to find a ghost beautiful. She stood in front of me, with her white hair and fair skin and her long dress draping across the marble tiles of the church. Most people think of ghosts as scary, horrifying creatures. But maybe they're just...misunderstood. Amelia walks towards me, her hand outstretched, as if she's reaching for me. When she gets to the marble steps of the altar, she smiles at me, and whispers, "Thank you, Jack. You set me free." I hear the howling of the wind in the distance. The doors unlock and another gust of wind blows through the church. I look back and the small, golden box is closed. And just as quick as she came, Amelia was gone.

I walk out of Woodvale Church and back into the graveyard. I wander further into the back by the white marble fence surrounding the area. I walk past the gravestones until I reach his grave. I sit on the very edge of the stone bed and notice all the roses she left for him. Right before she killed herself. I look at the engraving on his headstone. Richard Jones. It's such a shame that he and Amelia never got married. Some would say he died too soon. Others would be indifferent. But no one would really understand what happened that night. I'm not going to lie and say I don't know Amelia. I'm also not going to lie and say I wasn't just a little bit obsessed with her. The moment I laid eyes on Amelia, I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She looked just like me. The same black hair and pale ocean eyes. There was no denying she was my sister. I just had to find her.
I went to St. John's Hospital after that, and asked to check the records of people born in 1991. And wouldn't you know it, Amelia Crawford was there. Born on December 12, 1991. I tracked her down and found her in a town called Rosewood, living with another woman. So I watched her. Every day, every night, to make sure she was safe. And if anyone hurt her, well, they had a different ending. I was out one night when I thought I saw Amelia. With another guy. They looked so happy together. Her arm in his, his eyes on her, them, smiling at each other. Then, I saw him pull out a small, velvet box. He got down on one knee and proposed to her. I froze as she smiled at him and accepted. She couldn't get married. She was too young. Way too young. She was only twenty. It wasn't going to last. He was going to break her heart. I had to protect her. I knew what I had to do. I needed to get rid of her miserable, pathetic fiance. I watched them for months after that, carefully planning everything. One wrong move and the whole plan was foiled. I needed to tread lightly. I waited. I watched. I planned. Until finally, it was time for the big day.

April 17, 2025
It was the day. The day Richard and Amelia were supposed to get married. But that wasn't going to happen. Not on my watch. I followed Richard that same night, after making sure Amelia got home safe. I couldn't take any chances. I walked behind him, careful to keep a safe distance between us. If he even suspected that someone was following him, everything would be a disaster. I walked in step with him, stopped when he stopped, sped up when he sped up, until we got to Main Street. I looked around to make sure no one was there. It was almost midnight, and no one would be out this late. But you can never be too careful. I followed him until we stopped near a rosebush. Then, I plunged a knife into his stomach. His eyes widened, and he collapsed on the floor, dead.
The news was on the next day, so I turned on the TV to Channel 8. They had found Richard's body along the rosebush by Main Street. He had reportedly killed himself on the day of his wedding because he thought Amelia was with another guy. But they also found a second body. A female. I knew at that moment that it was Amelia's body. I was stunned. I didn't know how to react. Why? Why did she do this? Why did she end it? Did she really love him that much that she couldn't live without him? I started feeling cold. My breath heaved. I stared at the picture frame of Amelia on the small table in the corner. All I could think about was that she was gone.

Present Day
I walk out of Woodvale Church and onto Beacon Road. It's a colder night than most. I never believed the rumors surrounding Woodvale Church until now. Although...I wouldn't call them rumors. Just a creative twist on a true story. I get home and put my keys down on the table and I hang my jacket on the coat hanger. I take out the small velvet box with the ruby ring inside and open it. I see the red glint from it as I place it by my nightstand. I don't regret what I did. I would do it all over again. Some people say blood is thicker than water. I say family always comes first.