I don't think anyone could've prepared me for my wedding night. I guess I should've known better than to marry into a wealthy and eccentric family, but I was blinded by love and didn't see the red flags. Mariage, as it showed me, is a terrifying game, and I was its unfortunate victim.
The moment the ceremony ended, the mood shifted. My in-laws, who had been nothing but gracious and welcoming until then, suddenly became cold and menacing. They told me that I had to participate in a "family tradition" – a game of hide-and-seek. I laughed it off at first, thinking it was a joke, but their expressions remained deadly serious.
As the night wore on, I realized it was no game. Armed with weapons ranging from guns to crossbows, my new family hunted me down like a rat in a maze. I had to use every ounce of my wit and survival instinct to stay alive. The house, once a symbol of love and celebration, transformed into a twisted labyrinth of fear and danger.
I witnessed the true nature of my husband as he ruthlessly pursued me, his eyes burning with a sinister gleam. I saw the facade of love shatter as the family turned into a pack of predators, their laughter echoing through the empty halls like the sound of death itself.
I'm not sure how I managed to survive that night. I was lucky, I guess, but I'm forever scarred by the experience. Trust is a fragile thing, and once it's broken, it's almost impossible to mend. I don't know if I'll ever be able to look at my husband or his family the same way again. The nightmare of my wedding night will forever haunt my dreams.
So, be warned, dear readers. When you say "I do," you're not just marrying your partner; you're marrying their family as well. And sometimes, that family can be ready or not for you – but not always in a good way.