A short story, but first...

Due to my current problems with posting poetry, I have decided to add some fiction to the blog. I hope it is enjoyable as I hope my poems have hopefully been to all you non-commenters.

This city stinks. The air is thick with the scum. As I walk down the alley I can see them all. Soggy newspapers, cardboard boxes, heaped blankets covering the filthy maggots. These people represent all that’s wrong with life in the city. During the day they roam the streets asking for money and cigarettes so they can get their next fix. Come nighttime they huddle together in dark back-alleys preying for warmth and rocks to get by. They don’t even consider making an attempt at joining proper society.
A pile of rags sags and heaves, sags and heaves. As I approach, the stench thickens and the bile rises in my throat. Even to perform my righteous task, it makes me sick to get so close to such a derelict cesspool. The pocket of my trench coat is heavy with silver. Silver meant specifically to help this junky on the ground. I provide the necessary assistance for the less than human to move on from their pathetic ways of living.
Closer now, almost within arms reach, preparing myself for the one moment that makes my journey worthwhile. My chance to do my part in making this a better city to live in.
I put my hand on his shoulder and gently stir so as not to startle him. Wait…it’s a woman. Almost makes it easier. For God’s fairer creature to let herself slip so low. A more blasphemous crime against the upright, I do not know. A dirty, pockmarked face rolls out of the soiled stitching surrounding the beast, and glassy red eyes gaze up at me, already begging for my holy help.
“Have you accepted Jesus Christ into your heart?” She looks confused by my query. I place my hands under her arms and lift her to her feet. She wobbles slightly before finding something almost resembling balance. With one hand still under her arm steadying her, I reach into my coat pocket. Touching my silver, I feel a steady vibration, sending the familiar, low hum of excitement into my ears. My silver gleams in the passing headlights and screams forward. Once, twice, three and four times steel pierces crusted dirt; torn, damp cloth; flesh, and finally nerves, arteries. My silver is home.
I drop the bum on her heap of paper and rags to wallow in a pool of her own blood, vomit, and whatever other putrid functions she has been letting loose into her nest of grotesquery. Her confused expression stays frozen to her face as I turn back toward the main drag. This is the cleanest she has ever been, I think without looking back. I feel the city thank me and make sure my blade remains concealed. I’m one step closer to making this place holy. This city needs me. The sun will shine a bit brighter on this avenue tomorrow and nobody will know how or why. They will remain distant from what has happened here, but they will all silently enjoy what I have done for them. I am the hammer that finally falls. I am the shining vaccine to the disease of urban decay. I am the antidote to the poison they have all tasted. I am the Will. The Way.