Someone was following you.

You had run away from your own wedding, dropping your ring on someone's tomb.

You were sure no one had followed you into the cemetery. But now someone, something was close.

And it got you.

Sooner than you could realize a gloved hand catched your arm. The grip top tight to be human.

"Why are you running away, dear? Right after giving me your ring?" A woman stood behind you, her white dress torn and dirty and her face covered by a thick veil.