A faint rapping at the door jolted Britina from her intense study of the ancient text. Reluctantly, she set aside the ancient lore, now preoccupied with the more immediate question: who could be at the door? Visitors were rare. Most people avoided them, wary of the strange events that often unfolded in their home. When Britina opened the door, she froze, stunned to see her neighbor, the necromancer, standing there.

"Hello, dear." The older woman said very pleasantly. Her wrinkled face wore a grandmotherly smile so warm that anyone who didn’t know better might mistake her for a kindly elder, not the ancient necromancer infamous for keeping a ghoul as a pet.

"Ah, hello. Um, ah, can I help you?" Britina stammered, not knowing what to say to her odd, slightly creepy neighbor. She quickly looked behind the older woman, hoping not to see her ghoul. Thankfully, he wasn't there.

"Yes, dear, I was wondering, since you are a renowned mage, would you have some dragonroot that I could use? I'll be happy to replace it tomorrow after we go to the market." The old woman wheezed in her raspy voice.

"Dragonroot? Yes, yes, I do. Uh, please come in." Britina hesitated, unsure if inviting the old woman inside was wise, but politeness won.

They knew little about their peculiar neighbor, and what they did know was unsettling enough to discourage further inquisitiveness. They knew she was a widow; she kept a ghoul as a pet who had a habit of screaming every night. Most importantly, she kept to herself.

Britina led Matilda into the tearoom, where Prunhiline sat, engrossed in a strange book. Britina was curious about what she was reading but decided to wait until later to inquire. She had other pressing matters, like getting the old woman out of their house.

Prunhiline looked up from her book and, seeing the neighbor, said, "Hey there, creepy neighbor."

"Prunhiline, be nice!" Britina hissed at her companion.

"Oh, I don't mind, dear. I've known for several centuries that I'm creepy." She let out a crackling laugh at her joke. "By the way, dear, my name is Matilda."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Matilda. I'm Britina, and my rude companion is Prunhiline." Britina gestured to Prunhiline, who stayed seated and watched the old crone with intense interest.

"Oh, dear, I know who you both are. You're famous! I was so happy that you moved next to me." Matilda said gleefully. She seemed genuinely happy they were her neighbors.

"Ah, yes. We haven't really been very sociable. Sorry about that. Busy rescuing the kingdom and all that." Britina smiled with what she hoped was a sincere smile and waved her hand, hoping it helped her not look as uncomfortable as she felt.

"Of course, dear. I'm not the sociable kind. I like to stay at home with Edward and knit," Matilda said, twitching her long, wrinkled fingers as if she was knitting.

"Edward?" Prunhiline and Britina asked.

"Yes, my husband. Edward," Matilda smiled, looking at the mage and then at the warrior.

"I thought you only lived with the ghoul." Asked Prunhiline.

"Yes, dear, that's Edward," Matilda never stopped smiling. Her smile lept from a sad old grandmother to a maniacal crazy person.

"Wait, you married a ghoul!" This revelation shocked Prunhiline enough that she dropped her book onto the table.

"No, dear. He was alive when I married him. Ah, we were young and in love." Matilda sighed with a serene look as she remembered the good times in her life, which apparently were centuries ago.

Britina smiled, "I've heard necromancers lived long lives, so it's sort of romantic that he wanted to be a ghoul to be by your side after he passed. It's sweet but creepy."

Prunhiline made a gagging noise, and Britina shot her a glare to behave. Matilda snickered at the two.

"Oh no, dear. He didn’t want to be a ghoul," Matilda said, an ancient, sinister grin creeping across her face.

"Then why turn him into the undead?" Britina was worried she wouldn't enjoy the answer, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her.

Prunhiline's chair squeaked as she leaned back to better look at the old necromancer. This story was going to be way more interesting than her book.

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"Well, dear, like I said, we were young and in love. Well, I was in love, and he was young. You see, years after we were married, another woman caught his eye." Matilda frowned as the room seemed to darken. Britina had a cold chill run down their spine.

"Ew, a woman caught his eye? Did he throw it? Gross!" Prunhiline said with far too much excitement for the story.

"No, dear, another woman turned his head," Matilda said patiently.

"Oh, so she broke his neck. Sweet!" Prunhiline enjoyed this story, "Did you hunt her down and get revenge?"

"He cheated on her." Britina snapped with annoyance.

"Oh. So you killed him!" Prunhiline added with again too much excitement.

Britina was appalled that Prunhiline thought their neighbor murdered her husband. Adultery or not, she loved her husband and was sure there was more to the story.

"In a word, dear, yes," Matilda said with a slight sparkle in her eyes.

And my neighbor is a murderer, thought Britina. Not that this should surprise her with all that happens to her daily. This was a bit different; she was a murderer who kept her husband's corpse animated and "alive" for many centuries. She wondered just how old the old necromancer was and how long they had had this odd marriage.

"Cool!" Matilda had Prunhiline's full attention.

"I may have been a little heartbroken when I found out—maybe overreacted a bit. I poisoned his dinner. He suffered for hours, uh, days, maybe a week." Matilda paused, thinking, "So, yes, just overreacted a little bit." Matilda paused again, lost in her memories, and the two women didn't want to interrupt their apparent homicidal neighbor.

"I knew they were having their fun when I went to the market, so I prepared a surprise for her. After he died, I turned him into a ghoul. Then, on my day to go to the market, I dressed him in his finest clothes and placed him at the table with his back to the door. I left the house as normal but hid after passing her house." Matilda was showing signs of enjoying her story.

"She was your neighbor?" Asked a startled Britina.

"Oh, yes, dear. A hussy of a woman she was. I waited with glee until I heard her scream. It amazes me how a woman can sprint in high heels. But that hussy could run. I guess she didn't like my Edward anymore because I never saw her again." The old necromancer cackled with a burst of high-pitched laughter.

Britina felt that Matilda had more to do with why she didn't see her neighbor again than she was telling. It was probably for the best not to know. In this case, knowing was losing the battle.

"So, let me get this straight. You murdered your husband and turned him into a ghoul to get revenge on his mistress?" Prunhiline was very interested, maybe a bit too interested.

"Well, no, dear. I turned him into a ghoul because I knew I would miss my Edward. The centuries do get lonely after a few, ya know." Matilda smiled at the couple, letting her statement sink in. She twiddled her fingers.

"Dragonroot!" Britina exclaimed, abruptly recalling the reason for Matilda’s visit. Desperate to end the conversation, she jumped up.

"Yes, dear, if I could borrow some. I need it to resurrect Edward in the morning." Matilda said gently. The tender, grandmotherly side of her came out once again.

"Resurrect? But he's already undead." Said Prunhiline, "Do you have to keep resurrecting him?"

"Well, I kill him every night. Then I miss him the next morning, and I resurrect him again." Matilda said this as if it was evident to everyone.

Both women looked at Matilda, stunned. Prunhiline blinked a few times, contemplating how that would change her title; she wasn't sure how that would work. Re-killer of? Britina was beyond horrified.

With a bit of embarrassment, Matilda explained. "You see, I started killing him every night because I was still a little angry. Then, I would miss him and resurrect him the next morning. Pretty soon, we just got into a habit of it. It's those rituals that keep the couple together, ya know." Matilda winked at the couple.

Britina turned quickly and went to her library, where she kept ingredients for spells. She needed the neighbor to leave before she became a bad influence on Prunhiline.

"So, you murder your husband every night and then resurrect him every morning," Prunhiline asked with awe. Maybe she could add a re-killer to her title. Re-killer of Dragons sounds nice. Even better would be the re-killer of squirrels.

"Yes, dear." Matilda smiled gently like a sweet old grandmother who murdered her undead husband daily and resurrected him in the morning.

"You are my hero!" Prunhiline exclaimed. Matilda cackled with laughter.

Britina hurried back into the tearoom, clutching all the dragonroot she could find. "Here you go. Oh my, it's getting late; you probably want to get back to murdering your husband, I mean nightly massacre. Um, ritual?" she stammered, flustered and red-faced.

Prunhiline showed Matilda to the door. Britina had to sit down for a few minutes. Once she returned to the tearoom, she found Britina pouring a large glass of wine. The big one that was reserved for times when Prunhiline stressed her out. The glass was worn with use.

"She's cool. We should hang out with her more often." Prunhiline said, sitting down at the table and picking up her book.

"No, dear love. We are not hanging out with a murderer." Britina scowled.

"But, Bri, we kill people all the time," Prunhiline pointed out.

"No, dear love. We kill bad people who hurt others. Mostly." Britina had to pause at the last word; there were a few times they had mistaken a kind of scary-looking monster as the villain and not the innocent-looking little girl (Yes, Dear Reader, that is another story for another day).

Prunhiline sat down on the couch and returned to her book. After several glasses of wine, Britina started to relax and forget the ordeal so much for a relaxing day at home.

"Dear love, I meant to ask, what are you reading?" Britina leaned forward to see the book.

"Oh, this, it's the newest Dusk book. It's called New Sunset." Prunhiline said, excited to share her favorite novel.

"Aren't those the trashy romance novels?" Britina was always surprised by her companion's reading preferences. Prunhiline wasn't the romantic kind of Amazon warrior, but she did have her moments.

"Oh, Yeah. After hearing our neighbor's story, I'll be disappointed in the ending. The ghoul in this story doesn't compare. Besides, ghouls don't sparkle." She said with some disappointment.