Cinderella

A fun twist! ​The clock tower began to chime, each massive, groaning bell-stroke vibrating through the ballroom floor. Cinderella, mid-twirl with the Prince, felt the magic shudder. It was not a sudden, violent transformation, but a creeping, terrifying decay: the silk dress thinning, the jewels dimming, the perfect coiffure starting to sag. ​"Eleven... twelve..." ​"I must go!" she gasped, wrenching her hand from the Prince's. ​"Wait! My lady, what is wrong?" he cried, his voice lost as she bolted toward the great oak doors. ​She flew down the steps, the glass slippers barely touching the marble, leaving the bewildered Prince and a scattering of stunned courtiers in her wake. She burst out onto the massive, lamp-lit courtyard where her pumpkin-carriage stood, a glorious, shimmering gold. ​"Thirteen... fourteen..." The chimes seemed to stretch time itself, mocking her frantic race. ​She yanked open the carriage door, shoving her skirts inside. Just as she was about to slam the door and shout for the horses to run, a figure stepped out from the deep shadow of the carriage house, blocking the pumpkin's magnificent, temporary wheels.