I love those dark and stormy nights, perfectly suited to scare the hell out of selfish, evil humans, especially the ones like my cheating husband. 

I couldn’t ever forget his satanic smile as he looked at me falling from the cliff. Sadly, he died of an inexplicable heart attack on his wedding night well before I found my ghostly bearings. I resented that he got off so easily. I wreaked havoc on many others like him, both men and women. 

The worst part was I couldn’t find his mysterious mistress. She disappeared into oblivion.  Eavesdropping on multiple of her family’s conversations didn’t help. She wasn’t even discussed. Maybe they ostracised her.  Not even a photo of hers anywhere!

One lucky day, I heard of an old mansion where she was seen. I found the place on that dark, stormy night, a perfect setting for another deserved kill.

The rocking chair she lay on creaked welcomingly. I stood at the top of the chair, put on my most fearful face, and bent forward to meet her face in the reverse direction. My loins stirred in anticipation.  

But I was the one startled. She was like me. Dead! Ghosted!

“His first wife, the one he killed for you.”

“I was his first wife.”

“He was an irresistibly charming liar.”

“You killed him?”

“That terrorised fear on his face when I revealed my true self on the wedding night was deliciously deadly!” 

Her eerie smile matched mine.