Super plasma powered heist (or 3 Ghosts)

Her death is not quiet. It is a violent quaking of nerves being strung out like uncooked bucatini noodles and then boiled in scadling oil, crispy. The plasma building up in my core was too much to keep inside. The sun’s gravity can’t hold it down. Why should I?

The Gods favored me. Favored us. They allowed me to travel along the corona throughout the magnetic lines until I was radially outward with my reward.

Ice-cold revenge.

My otherworldly form hit the planet in the form of a solar flare. I still felt your heavy, teal tears from far away, haunting me as my orange trident hit the green and blue so radiantly. I could not get to you, yet, my love.

The city went black. No power or radio from my presence. I slunk into my living wife’s house in daylight, unseen.

I whispered like crackled leaves, “You killed my lover though you hated me. You never loved me. You watched me rot without him.”

Emerald eyes shot wide in terror, goosebumps over her body, frizzy red hair standing on end.

I let her see me.

She howled, screeching.

Living-dead, she was the third ghost before she even died.