The wedding hall was filled with crystal lights, luxury guests, and music that felt too perfect to be real.
Then—a sudden glass shatter explodes in the very first second.
The giant doors at the end of the hall burst open.
Everyone turns.
A soaked bride steps inside.
The woman everyone believed was dead.
Her white wedding dress is torn, heavy with water, her hair dripping over a pale, expressionless face. In her hand—a broken bouquet.
The room erupts into screams.
At the altar, the groom’s hand begins to shake. The wedding ring slips from his fingers and hits the marble floor with a sharp echo.
Close-up: his face goes completely white.
“Impossible…” he whispers.
Silence falls.
Only the sound of her heels echoes across the marble as she walks slowly forward. Every guest is frozen, unable to breathe.
Her eyes lock onto him.
No emotion. Just certainty.
She raises her trembling hand.
A burned wedding photograph appears between her fingers—half of it destroyed, half still showing them smiling together.
The groom steps back instinctively.
She leans in close, her voice cold, breaking the silence:
“You tried to kill me.”
A wave of panic hits the room. Guests scream and scatter.
The groom stumbles backward in shock—
and the lights suddenly CUT OUT.
Total darkness.
A final scream echoes in the black.
