Steve

V held out his clenched fists. “Pick one,” he said flatly. There was no demurring. I chose the left. He opened the right, unfurling his fingers slowly. Inside was a thick blunt bullet. I swallowed. Now the left: another slug though smaller. “You choose well.” V smiled. “If I must kill you, I will use this one. With 22 they can leave casket open; 45 makes big mess.” I nodded. Got up. Left. I would never go back.