I managed to lock Eliza, my once-beloved bride turned zombie, in a room of an abandoned house. The door rattles as she claws at it, her guttural growls echoing through the empty halls. Through the small, grimy window, I can see her: Eliza's tattered wedding dress hangs from her greenish frame, her wild white hair framing her haunted, blackened eyes. She clutches her wilted bouquet, a sad remnant of our doomed wedding day. She murmurs and growls, "Grrrr... uhhhh... braaains…”