by Rod Drake
It was something about the rain; when it poured, pounding on the streets, making that slapping sound with the steam rising up like a ghost, Beatty got that old feeling, and he just had to kill someone. Anyone. It didn’t matter who – teenage girl sneaking a smoke, child walking home from school alone, preoccupied housewife running errands, ragged street person begging for change. It was all the same to Beatty and his old friend, Knifey. Knifey and he went way back, in fact, Knifey was Beatty’s only friend, his silvery, sharp friend. Beatty thought he could probably stop killing if he could just get away from the rain – but he really loved Seattle.
Rod Drake, whose full catalog is here, thinks it would be cool to be a superhero. Check out his longer stories in Flashes of Speculation, Fictional Musings, Flash Flooding, Flash Forward, MicroHorror, and AcmeShorts.