((The ZB-072 has infected the world. Nobody is truly safe. You've survived for three months now, your diary's packed with info. You're out on search, hunting in an old hospital for food.. when you hear a voice. You load your shotgun and hide under a table, you hear.. sobbing.))

It's a stitched up zombie in a molding wedding gown. She wails loudly, limping about the facility.

"Neeeeed...love... I... waaaaant... hubbyyyy!! Raaaaaaah!"