I am a paper maker who specializes in making brides for the dead.
It was raining heavily that night, but my employer forced me to put the dots on a paper figure: "The ghost marriage must take place tonight, she is waiting for the groom."
The moment Cinnabar started writing, Paper Bride suddenly grabbed my wrist, and with blood dripping from the corners of her eyes, she wrote on my palm: "Run away, you are next."
The strange bride possessed me and said that she would use my body to find his bones.
Later I found out that the ghost marriage was not done for him at all.
He was just selected to be made into a "living human pillar" for burial alive, and he would hold the coffin of hundreds of ghosts on behalf of the true bridegroom.
And I am the vessel that will be made into his substitute.
