With great pain he spied around looking for the camera that would track him down if he dared let them. Into the all-night convenience store, wet from rain, as the thunder pealed again and again, shaking the building like an earthquake.
That was his cue, while everyone turned to look out the window, the lightening bright and frightening; the power went out for the time he required. He knew exactly where his victims were, every time. He needed no light. He stabbed and stabbed again and again.
Not a sound from his victims as they fell to the ground oozing their guts onto the floor. None was heard above the rattle and din of thunder, the shock, from outside in.
He skulked out, and then rain soaked coat over his head, he disappeared, swallowed into the night. The thunder didn’t bother him at all. The lightening gave him light where his feet would fall, escaping his dastardly deed, again so cold, no despair or remorse.
Sure, the constable would arrive with his army of police looking over the crime scene like ants at a picnic. No clues, no clues, this was a professional hit. Another attack. The cameras were blinded by the lightening.
“It’s the cereal killer,” stated the constable in his authoritative voice to hush the murmur of the gathering crowd. “He’s struck again. This time a convenience store. The food’s not fit to eat.”
“We’ll get him or her. General Food offered a reward. The good general posted the reward all over town.”
“We’ll toast this critter crispy and makes his bones crunch, snap, crackle and pop.” said the captain.
“Yes we will, and we’ll milk him for every penny, he has to pay back the cost of these losses,” said one of the bosses looking over the floor and their losses. “Get the spoon men to clean this mess up.”
But the cereal killer didn’t care. He knew in his gut, the transit time between here and there, he wouldn’t be missed, he’d never be suspected or caught in the dragnet. He was on his way cross town already, changing into his manager’s gown. He was manager of the Food Emporium. He hated every day of it. The job, the fawning over stupid customers, the muzak, the idiots he had to hire, it ate at him, and this cereal killing, was his relief.
Slowly he turned, step by step into the store with that pasted smile grin.