Emily could bear Victor's anguish no longer. Grasping his trembling hands, she pulled him to his feet and approached the portal speedily, slipping into it with barely a moment's hesitation. There was the oddest spasm of pain which lanced through her as she did so, as if the portal's surface had hurt her, and she gasped, a little frightened.

The journey through the portal was quick, and before she knew it she found herself standing in a familiar room. Victor tried to free his hands from her iron grip even as Victoria herself laid horror-filled eyes upon them. A tall, cloaked figure had a firm hold on her arms and was dragging her steadily towards her bedroom door.

"Halt!" Victor's cry was somewhat startling in the quiet little room. He dashed towards Victoria's captor even as that individual performed the most startling feat; releasing Victoria, it took up its knife once more and with this weapon it stabbed her before spinning about and disappearing through the portal which Emily and Victor had arrived through. No sooner had it done so than the portal seemed to melt away until there was nothing left of it at all.

None of the persons in the room seemed to notice what had become of the portal. Victoria lay upon the floor, her eyes dim with pain as Victor knelt close beside her and Emily bent over her anxiously. She breathed in quick, shallow breaths and she shivered uncontrollably as Victor murmured,

"Ah, thank Heaven you are not hurt badly, Victoria. Look, your arm's barely even bleeding! What's wrong? It's alright, really. You're fine."

Emily knew at a glance that this desperate assertion was far from true. Touching Victor's arm, she said quietly, "Victor..."

"Victoria? What's the matter?" Victor held Victoria's icy hands and rubbed them gently. "You're so cold. Come, now," he said with a weak smile, "it wasn't all that bad, was it, Victoria?"

"Victor."

"Yes, Emily?"

The corpse bride looked at him sorrowfully, her eyes brimming with tears of pity. "Oh, Victor," she whispered, "don't you see? Victoria is—dying."

Perhaps Victor would have replied, but Victoria distracted him as she reached upwards, her fingertips brushing against his face.

"Victor?" she said in an almost drowsy manner, "Our wedding."

"Tomorrow," Victor said, his voice shaking uncontrollably.

Victoria raised herself halfway, but her strength was nearly spent and she would have fallen back if Victor had not moved to support her, positioning himself so that when she fell, she fell against him and thus remained upright. A pretty smile of gratitude rewarded him for this and he felt a little warmth creeping back into his bloodless face.

"Victor," Victoria said, her hands fiddling restlessly with his coat, "there—there won't be a wedding tomorrow."

Victor made no response at first, his eyes closed as he rocked gently back and forth. Then he said in the faintest of whispers, "Victoria—I don't understand. How can you be...dying? You were hardly even scratched..."

"I don't know," Victoria said with a sob, "I don't know." She tried to rise again in her frustration but still she could not. Victor held her still, wishing that he had not spoken, and he drew a shaky breath.

Victoria's life had all but slipped away. Her head rested limply on Victor's heaving breast, and she moved somewhat closer to him even as she drew a final breath, a bright smile curving her lips.