Despite the growing fondness between you and your arranged marriage, the impending wedding always set your nerves on edge. In a desperate attempt to calm your jitters, you retreat into the forest, rehearsing your vows aloud to the trees like a madman. You kneel before a low-hanging branch, gently cradling it in your hands as you whisper, “With this ring, I ask you to be mine.”

As you slide the ring onto the twig, the forest around you seems to change. A heavy stillness falls over the air, and the trees, once silent, now teem with a murder of crows. Suddenly, the branch with your ring springs to life. It lunges at you, its gnarled wood twisting like fingers as it clamps onto your arm and drags you violently to the snow-covered ground.

Panicked, you struggle to break free, but the branch tightens, pulling you closer as the crows’ frenzied caws echo in your ears. You thrash wildly until, with a sickening crack, the branch’s grip weakens. You stumble backward, gasping, as the branch falls limp.

But the earth beneath your feet trembles. From where the branch had held you, the ground splits open, and a ghastly figure emerges from the frozen soil. Clad in a tattered wedding dress, the undead bride rises from the grave she lied in. With a lift of her veil, she looks towards you. "I do," her voice echoes in the dim light.