Rumy held her side, as blood rushed out of it.  She was racing through the forest in handcuffs, trying to reach a place she didn't know. She was in an orange jumpsuit, blood soaking it.  The witch had locked her up in the Story Brooke jail.

  She looked behind her at the creatures that chased her like prey.  Usually she would be fine but after what she had just gone through, she couldn't focus enough to kill them.  Her mind was on Harry and how she watched them tear his head off.  She closed her eyes and dropped to her knees in grief.  She could hear and feel them surround her but she ignored it.  She focused on her anger, on the pure rage that built up inside her.  She could feel it, the power of the dark one in her.  Her hands begin to tremble and her eyes burn behind her lids.  She focused on the people they killed, and the rage it made her feel.  Merlin and Robin getting their throats slit, each other being their last sight, falling with their hands clasped together.  Her father who was stabbed with his own dagger, the darkness couldn't go into these beast.  There wasn't anything there for them to take over.  It went into her.  Her eyes snap open and she looks at the now complete sword.

Her name was the only one it, at one point the tip held her father's name, now that had disappeared covered by the black decor.  Her eyes look up at the beasts who surround her, they were taking their time, taking in their victory.  She grinned evilly before suddenly in a burst of light she lunged.  Her hands snapped outward and the cuffs that held her became dust in the wind.  Her sword kill some of them and the pure black magic radiating from her body killed the rest.  Random burst of black would go off from her, like hot spots or solar flares on the sun.  Her eyes were black and soulless and her grin disterbing.

She stopped, all the beast dead and she looked around.  Their bodies lied scattered on the ground the way her friend's did in town.  The way Harry's did.  She glared at the corpses wishing there were more for her to tear apart. 

She turns away and walks to a clearing, waving her hand over the ground. What would once take a potion and spell to create now came easily.  A portal opened up in front of her and she glanced back at the dead beasts before stepping into the portal to a new world.  Leaving behind the dead flying monkeys.  She whispers to herself as she steps through, "There ain't no rest for the wicked."