by Joshua Perrett
Jack the Zipper
Mickey burst into the men’s toilets and found the nearest urinal. The club was swarming like a cage of drugged rats, and he’d left the girl he’d just met on the dancefloor. She had an incandescent beauty, outshining even the brightest strobe light. He knew he’d have to be quick – a second too long and she’d be making out with another guy when he returned.
The stream of alcohol trickled to an end, and Mickey shook off and yanked up his zipper. Snag. It was caught halfway. He looked down at the drips of blood hitting the porcelain. He could barely look at it. She would never look at it. As he unpicked the skin from the fierce metal teeth, he knew his night was over. Another victim of Jack the Zipper.