Its body shudders and twitches in the downpour, contrasted against the utter stillness of all the bodies piled up at its feet. Your mother's words come back to you from the last time you saw her alive, her voice trembling with barely concealed fear as she whispered to you "Keep dry."
She said that just before she ran out of the tent you were huddled in, hoping to catch up to your father before something else did. You never saw either of them again and never found their bodies among all the others. Even now you check the corpse piles when they're dry enough.
Some small, treacherous part of your mind wonders if the monsters in the rain are what people become if they survive the water long enough. Perhaps you've already seen your parents, twitching and staggering through the rain, bodies piling up at their feet while they search for their missing child.
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