Crimson

“How do you want to die?” questioned Patrick, standing six feet behind Jack. “Burned to a crisp, fried, or just, blasted into oblivion? Patrick suddenly, let go, a small charge of lightning, from his fingertips, to prove his point. “Can't we talk it over?” asked Jack, as he dropped the knife. Patrick thought for a second, then, said “You're toast,” and let go a charge of electricity, that slamme...