The Bride is finally at peace and she leaves the church. But ...
"Wait," Victor said. "I made a promise."
Emily stopped and turned around. "You kept your promise," she replied. "You set me free."
She pulled Victor's ring from her finger and placed it in his hand, then folded his fingers gently over it.
"Now I can do the same for you."
Emily looked into his eyes for another moment or two, and then she turned and walked slowly towards the open door of the church. As she did, a feeling of peace grew inside her - she was really and truly free ... free at last.
Two steps from the door, the corpse girl paused and lifted her face towards the full moon shining brightly in the misty night sky. She stood there for a few seconds, then looked back towards the couple standing at the back of the church.
Emily glanced at the moon again, then down at the bundle of dried flowers she carried and, on impulse, she threw it behind her blindly, in the old tradition.
Someone caught it and gasped, and then gasped again. But it didn't sound like Victoria...
Behind her the Maggot cackled, another gasp, and the rustle of flying flowers once more.
Then silence. Someone else must have caught it...
She looked back again: this time, Victoria was holding the bouquet.
Emily smiled faintly and turned away. Three steps later, she stopped, waiting...
... then it happened.
A wave of joy swept through her, and she closed her eyes and sighed in rapture as the bright, beautiful blue light bloomed to consume her, and she felt her body dissolve ...
... into something like winged jewels ...
... a fluttering sapphire swarm of bright blue butterflies.
And she (they) swirled around and around: a living whirlwind flying from the church.
Emily's spirit, freed at last, soared with them into the night. Through a thousand tiny eyes, she could see the landscape below, and she looked downward at the world she was leaving forever.
The old stone church gleamed in the moonlight below, and she could see someone trudging up the path towards it. The figure paused as it spotted the butterflies, and it turned its face upward for a better look.
The man's face was a familiar one - mutton-chop whiskers and piercing blue eyes filled with determination and purpose - lit clearly by the light of the moon as he stared up at the brightly colored swarm. A white captain's hat sat well back on his head.
"Emily," he whispered.
She paused - her purpose here was not finished, after all. No, not yet.
Reluctantly, she turned away from the Light while the butterflies flew on...