Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > A Kiss Could Be Deadly


by jesswriteshere 0 reviews

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama,Horror,Romance - Published: 2011-06-07 - Updated: 2011-06-08 - 575 words

When I woke up, I was in a room covered in red satin. What little windows there were, were boarded over and the door had thirteen lock systems built into it. I looked down at myself, no bruises, no scratches, I wasn’t sore in anyway, but I was wearing a red gown that I definitely hadn’t been in before.

“My sister changed you out of your clothes,” the same voice as before whispered. “She wanted to make sure you were comfortable after the ceremony.”

“Ce...ceremony?” I whispered, my voice cracking as I noticed the rose gold band now placed on my left hand.

“Wedding ceremony,” the man smirked, “I needed to make sure you couldn’t leave.”


“I need you to stay in this house, so that nobody else can get in.”

I pulled my hair up, my hands shaking as I slowly turned my gaze towards the man in front of me. He was pale, paler than he should’ve been, but there was remnants of a tan still visible in his skin. His hair was dark, messily pushed under a beanie, and his eyes were a pale amber. He held up his left hand, showing a band that matched the one I was wearing before slowly stepping towards me.

“Before you panic, let me explain things.”

Before I panic? You missed that boat a long time ago Bud.

The man sighed, running his hands over his face. “Come sit.”

Right, like I’m going to sit on a bed with a man I don’t know who married me while I was unconscious.

“You weren’t unconscious, you were compelled, now come sit Katya.”

My blood ran cold as I made eye contact with him. A) how did he know my name? And B) how the fuck was he reading my mind?

“It’s one of the perks of being a wallflower Babe, now come sit.”

I did as he asked, placing myself near the headboard as he occupied the lower half of the bed. “Why do you want me here?”

“Because you don’t have a family.”

“I’m pretty sure I have a family or I wouldn’t have been born,” I mumbled, pulling the blankets tightly around myself in the hopes that it’d stop him from seeing well, anything.

“Okay, let me rephrase that, you don’t have family in Chicago, your only living family is in the Ukraine.”

I swallowed hard, he was right, but how did he know all of this?

“I’ve been following you for a few months now, I know where you live, where you work, who you talk to. You know, you really shouldn’t go out so late at night without someone else with you, things could happen,” he smirked, sending me a wink. “Your name was Katja Marijah Loeve, when you immigrated to New York you changed the j’s to y’s so that Americans could pronounce it correctly. You’re five foot even, one hundred seven pounds, you have blue eyes, red hair, and moved to Chicago two years ago when you were offered a job teaching kindergarten. Now, I said your name was Katja Marijah Loeve because it was changed last night, to Katya Mariah Wentz.”

I watched as the man held his hand out towards me, linking our left hands so that our rings touched.

“That makes me, Peter Wentz, your husband.”
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