Mercy Williams takes a seat in the back row of the church. Her royal red dress hugs her curves and sticks out amongst the sea of wrinkled khaki pants and flower print dresses. An elderly man sitting in the pew in front of her turns around to greet her.
“Are you here for the bride or the groom?”
“Bride,” she says, it’s the lie she always tells.
The man smiles and nods turning around. No one doubts someone like her; young, beautiful and without a date. Her perfectly curled blonde hair frames her pale skin and delicate features while her oversized black sunglasses cover her icy blue eyes.
This is the thirteenth wedding she has been to this year.
Mercy stomachs the groom’s litany of lies in his vows but at the reception they show their true colors. She will catch his eye and like the others before him he will come to her. Biting her lower lip and looking adoringly into his eyes he will prove if he is worthy of his bride’s love. Five of the twelve men did not pass he test. They need to suffer for treating their new wives with such arrogance and indifference.
She does a public service for these women.
A hush falls over the church as groom takes his place at the alter. Scanning the room, his eyes fall on her and he smiles. She can’t help smiling back knowing tonight she will have a sixth kill.