Poesque Demise

IN an old, remote deserted graveyard on a sprawling Victorian estate:
 "Oh, dear. You're awake.
 I really had hoped that the sleeping drought wouldn't wear off until after we'd sealed you in this tomb and returned home. It certainly would have saved me from having to explain myself to you:
 You can struggle all you like, poor Imogene, but you're really securely bound in there. I've been practising since the moment you announced your engagement to - what's his name? Oh, yes: Rupert.
 If only you 'd taken my various little hints and not gone through with it. You see, my well-being: The house, my income, even the employment of Garrow here, is dependant on your not getting married and providing your late father - my selfish brother; with a male heir to the estate. I would have lost it all, so I decided that I either had to prevent you getting married or dispose of you altogether.
 I must admit, you do have a charmed life: That boating accident where the bottom planks suddenly came away, the coach shedding a wheel when it was being driven at speed; your accidentally being pushed off the station platform in front of that incoming train...
 And when the wedding day loomed I decided that mere accidents were not going to work so I ventured into more.. overt methods of disposal.
 Unfortunately, that game of 'Hide and Seek' was a complete failure: You totally failed to follow my little suggestion about secreting yourself in that trunk in the attic and I'd spent hours tampering with the lock. You would have provided the inspiration for a whole swathe of ghost stories and legends: In a matter of years every county would have a mansion with it's own 'Lost Bride' legend.
 And then there was my little take on the 'Cask of Amontadillo', except that I couldn't get everyone drunk enough not to notice your disappearance and that of Rupert and worse still, we found the new bricks we'd acquired weren't a match to the old ones in the cellar walls.
 So in the end I had to take pot luck and hope that you and your husband drank those nightcaps I had sent up and then drag you all the way out here to the old family cemetery.
 It's nice and secluded out here and not even the poachers venture out here at this time of year; so by the time anyone should find a reason to open this tomb, you'll be well rotted.
 And don't worry about being left all alone out here: As you can see, you'll be sharing this coffin with it's original incumbent. These are the mortal remains of old Sir Geoffrey, a notorious rake in his time. It's said that he and George the Second had a wager going as to how many bastards they could sire and he was a hundred ahead when the old king dropped dead. He'd probably enjoy having a sweet young thing like you for company.
 And don't worry about Rupert, when he wakes up he'll find a note from you on his pillow saying that you'd gotten cold feet and run off to live in sin with one of the bridesmaids - The one who's off to America.. or somewhere foreign where he'll never find them.
 Anyway, it's time to close the lid on you and put your box back in it's resting place. Don't scream, no one will hear you and you'll only run out of breath.
 Oh, and if you feel something between your legs or pressing against your tits, don't be afraid: It's probably just Sir Geoffrey's ghost making up for lost time."

THE END

A little something for Halloween. Enjoy; Integral.