The sand was comfortably warm between Mira's toes. The water made a flower of her skirt as it lapped up around her thighs. When the slow waves reached her waist, she took the flare gun from her jacket pocket and fired it up into the sky. Then she waited for him to come.
Mira left a trail of death in her wake. Her feet were bare, covered in blood. A trail of bloody footprints followed her. Those who had tried to stop her had died bloody deaths and she was no in habit of cleaning up after her. It was Mack's job and Mack wasn't here. Yet. She walked the corridor deeper into the mansion, softly whispering Hindu mantras to herself, to keep herself calm. It was difficult.
She was a shadow of usual electric self. Her eyes were sunken like she had not slept for days. Her clothes were torn and dirty and she was wearing a borrowed skirt that sweeped the floor as she walked. Her hair was a mess, standing up on its edges as static electricity coursed through her skin. She saw one of the goons peek from the end of the chamber. She flicked her fingers and sent a ball of lightening smashing into the face of the man. A smoking hole gaped where the man's head was a moment ago. The man collapsed and she calmly walked over his body and her feet were bloody again. She saw a CCTV camera on the wall move to follow her. She lifted her middle finger to the camera and it shorted with a puff of smoke.
The man who watched the camera in a room deep within the mansion smiled to himself. Such brazen display of power was nothing alien to him, he had done it himself when he was young. He stroked the white cat that sat contended in his lap. The hair on the cat's skin bristled as static electricity built up and with a terrified yelp the cat jumped from the man's lap, gave him a scowling look and stalked off to do whatever cats do. The man pressed a button in the armrest of his chair and spoke three words, "Call the Electrician."
The Electrician was lounging in his Lazyboy, a wire plugged into the hole in his skull. "Sweet electricity, light be up baby." he whispered to himself, lost in the delirium of electrons and protons. He felt a surge and dip in the current. They were calling him. He'd have to plug off. This upset him. He pressed a finger in his ear, activating the mic implanted in his jaw.
A smile lit up the Electrician's face.
A good story is one which doesn't tell everything to the readers. This is the first of three. More tomorrow.