It was a beautiful day filled with joyous celebration when the unimaginable happened. The bride, adorned in her exquisite ballgown-style wedding dress, was suddenly surrounded by a horde of zombies.

The once festive hall was now filled with chaos and screams. The bride, in her torn dress, tried to make her way out, her heart pounding with fear.

She ran past the toppled wedding cake and shattered champagne flutes. She tripped over her ripped dress, landing hard on the cold marble floor.

With a gasp, she quickly got up, ignoring the pain in her ankle. She could see the exit, but the zombies were closing in.

Panicked, she scanned the room for a weapon. Her eyes landed on a broken champagne bottle. She scooped it up, her determination overcoming her fear.

She slashed at the zombies, her once elegant dress now stained with their putrid blood. She was fighting for her life on what was supposed to be her happiest day.

She was outnumbered but not outwilled. She kept fighting, her mind focused on escaping the nightmare. The zombies were relentless, but so was she.

Her vision blurred, and she stumbled, the pain in her ankle intensifying. But she pushed on, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

She was almost at the exit when one of the zombies lunged at her. She swung the champagne bottle, hitting it square in the head.

It fell with a thud, and she took the opportunity to run. She burst through the doors, into the cold night, free from the horror inside.

She ran into the woods, the darkness providing a brief respite from the terror. She was alone and scared, but she was alive.

Her dress was torn, and her ankle throbbed with pain. But she kept moving, the sounds of the distant chaos urging her on.

As the sun began to rise, she found herself at the edge of a small town. Exhausted and shaken, she stumbled into the nearest house.

She was met with shocked stares from the town's folk. Her once beautiful dress was now a ragged, bloody mess. She collapsed, her strength finally leaving her.

When she woke up, she was in a small, dimly lit room. Her ankle was bandaged, and her torn dress had been replaced with a clean nightgown.

She was safe, for now. But the memories of the night's events haunted her. Her dreams of a perfect wedding had been ripped away, replaced with a nightmare.

She grieved for her lost happiness, her heart aching with sorrow. But she was a survivor, and she would not let this tragedy define her.