Page 1 of Vintage

Chapter One

Within the whispers of ancient Chinese legends lies a captivating story of a magical thread that binds two destined hearts, forever intertwined as soulmates, celebrated in the tale of 'The Red Strings of Fate.'

An invisible red thread connects those destined to meet regardless of time, place, or circumstances. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it'll never break.

Chapter Two

Beneath the swaying branches of a weeping willow, trembling in the gentle North Carolina breeze, lay a story steeped in tragedy and shadows, echoing through the quaint town of Willow Crest.

A town where whispers of the past lingered like fog, narrated the tale of a maiden of ethereal beauty named Willow. The town shrouded in an eerie silence, was a place where no soul dared to tread, for those who entered its borders were said to vanish without a trace. Yet, fate took a curious turn when a weary traveler, seeking refuge, rode into the heart of this forsaken place. His steed carried him to the grand mansion of Willow, a Victorian edifice steeped in gloom and secrets, the very walls echoing with untold stories.

Like many tales of wanderers finding solace in the arms of a gracious host, Isiah discovered Willow.

As time passed, their bond deepened, transforming playful glances into passionate embraces, intertwining their very beings. Yet, Isiah was a traveler, destined to move on. Staying too long in a place where one is not truly invited turns a guest into a burden, and lingering is frowned upon.

Despite Willow's desire for him to remain, when the moment came for him to depart, he inadvertently urged her to leave her solitary life behind and join him.

She declined.

Heartbroken, the traveler continued his journey, leaving behind a piece of himself—his name etched alongside hers on a ring that stayed with her.

Willow wept but allowed him to go, becoming the only one to ever escape that town alive.

Eventually, Isiah returned, and Willow embraced him with the same warmth as before. However, that night, as he settled in, a foul odor of charred flesh filled the air. The lake outside Willow's mansion appeared ominously dark from his window.

A traveler must wander, for they have no true home, and those who return to Willow Crest find themselves trapped until death claims them.

Months passed, and Isiah never returned to his former life. When friends and family began their search, they found themselves at Willow's gate.

She greeted them with a smile, but when they inquired about Isiah, tears streamed down her face. Eventually, they discovered Isiah's lifeless body, brutally slain in Willow's bed. She had shared that bed with him, even in death, stabbing him night after night.

The reasons behind Willow's actions remain a mystery, yet whispers persist that she smiled at his corpse. Some believe she became obsessed, unwilling to let him go, while others speculate that she was not of this world, and he was a sacrifice meant to fulfill a curse binding her to Willow Crest.

And the sacrifice was to...

Kill your lover.

In the quaint town of Willow Crest, countless treasures lie hidden, yet none are deemed as invaluable as the ring Isiah bestowed upon Willow, its surface etched with their entwined initials and the design of a beautiful willow tree.

Whispers echo through the streets, hinting at the dark fate that befell Isiah, whose love for Willow transformed into a haunting promise of death.

It is said that any couple who dares to wed in Willow Crest will unwittingly stumble upon the cursed ring, sealing their doom. On the fateful night of their union, the bride is destined to take the life of her groom, forever binding their love in tragedy.

Chapter Three

Marriage. A concept that has started to feel increasingly elusive to me. Once, I had a clear picture of what it meant. A promise to navigate life hand in hand, to find comfort in each other, and even the little squabbles felt like encounters of blessings.

It seemed so straightforward.

“How was your day?” Amery murmured, her eyes heavy with fatigue, a soft yawn escaping her soft lips. They have a delicate curve that I cherish, especially when she greets me after a long day.

I shrugged off my jacket, letting it fall onto the kitchen counter, and settled onto the stool, sensing that my wife was ready to surrender to the day’s exhaustion.

Her shoulders slumped, a clear sign of her weariness.

“I’ve warmed up dinner for you. It’s Chinese takeout tonight, sorry about that.” She bit her lip, and I immediately understood. “I meant to finish early, but Darius showed up with this flashy sports car that’s a rare sight around here, and you know how I get…” She blinked at me with those big, innocent eyes, making me laugh at her pitiful cat antics.

“So, you couldn’t resist, and your Bob the car builder soul jumped in to help.” I sighed, fully aware of her tendencies.

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