Disclaimer: Not mine. Belongs to Stan Lee, Marvel Comics, and 20th Century Fox.

Thank you to Necia for the awesome dustjacket.

Anger. That’s all he could feel. No other emotions, no other coherent thought, just anger. John Allerdyce glared at the policemen to his right. Even though he just shot Logan in the head, he stood there shaking; his gun still pointed at them. Why should he be afraid? He’s the asshole with the gun?

John ran his thumb over his lighter. He knew every bump, how it created the design of shark’s teeth around the lid. The cool metal was comforting, almost like a best friend. He flipped open the lid.

So these guys were afraid of him, huh? They were nearly pissing in their pants at the site of him. He lit the lighter. He’d give them something to be afraid of.

He returned his gaze to the shaking officer at his left. “You know all those dangerous mutants you hear about on the news?” A pause. “I’m the worst one.”

In a split second, he sent a stream of fire towards the officer. He sent another stream to his right, and finally, one behind him through the house. It was time for the world to burn.


© 2004 Crimson Idealist