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That said, Viktor was bringing the power as well. He extended his arms, and his hands caught fire, with his flesh blackening and hardening, soon resembling cracked volcanic rock. “With these hands, I slaughtered our foolish master and the rest of those whelps. Now, when I close them around your throat, I wonder which will kill you first, the heat or the strangulation?”“I’ll sever those hands and lay them upon their graves, so they know they’ve been avenged!”

Once she’d finally found a good spot, she remembered what she was trying to do. Slowly and steadily, she brought her hand up and over his chest, the light sheet rippling above her the only thing keeping them from the warm autumn night. Again, she brought it down past the end of the hair on his belly and only stopped once she felt that rough patch of hair just above his groin. With only the moon filtering through the sheet above she could barely make it out as she peered over her dad’s waist. Short and curly, much curlier than his armpit hair, pitch-black, though most of his hair was with only a bit of grey poking through.

She knew she needn’t bother as her dad would be sleeping like a log. He had sleep apnea and used a CPAP machine to help him sleep and would also swallow a couple of tablets to help him get a good night’s rest. The whir of the machine sounded like a quiet vacuum, while her dad lay on his back like a hospital patient with the tube rigged up to his nose. She’d gotten a fright when she’d seen it the first time, but she’d gotten used to it by now.