As the clock strikes twelve she gasps and her heels slip out from under her. She lies in the street, her hand clasped around a gold coin purse. The crooked hag limped to her and reached, ever so slowly, for the glimmering purse in her hand. She jerked to her side and the hag bared her teeth. The beautiful bride lifted her dress to her knees and dashed to the pool. She leaped and held her breath.
She appeared on the other side. The land of Mermaitia. Where she found her groom waiting for her. She ran to him but fell back. The hag had cought hold of her leg. She kicked with no success, and her love became distant and foggy.
She screamed with no answer and dug her nails into the dirt. She tore at the hag and heard a shrivel of a scream. And then it was dark.