Spanning more than 90 years of art from across the globe, this collection of short stories celebrates the fictional character in all its horrors, from the oil monster of FernGully to the demon kings of Blue Exorcist's Gehenna. Beginning with the bla...
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"Worried about me? That's rich," spat Jim, teetering towards the nearest corpse and scowling at it as if daring the cadaver to so much as twitch. "We both know you can't stand the sight of me." His words escaped in a snarl, but the underlying pain in the former actor's voice made you suffer a fleeting twinge of regret.
You glanced at the streetlight and took a deep breath before hesitantly meeting Jim's sharp gaze, tightening your grip on the flip phone in an attempt to pacify your pounding heart. "That's not true, Jim. You know that's not true."
The volatile duck remained silent as he stared at you, one of his cyan and lime eyes twitching slightly. "Then why do you make me hunt you down?"
The adrenaline rush left you feeling as light as a tail feather, and your mind was beginning to float away. Struggling to keep yourself grounded, you nearly broke the flip phone in two. After relieving that bit of tension, your thoughts began to replay all the nights you spent mentally rehearsing dialogues to save your hide rather than sleeping.
"If you're so worried, why don't you come a little closer?" Jim smiled darkly and extended a hand to you, his manic gaze taunting and malicious. The former actor continued to stalk forward like a prowling leopard, and your gaze dropped to the never-ending midnight stretch of the street.
It was becoming nearly impossible to retain eye contact with his mad image. He interpreted a twitch of your head as a rejection. "Oh, why not? I could be in terrible pain and just want some comfort. That is why you came, right?"
The former actor's jeering mocked your crumbling facade of compassion, giving way to the primordial fear lurking beneath the surface. Barely repressing the urge to blurt out a vehement refusal, you reminded yourself that your life depended upon selling your desperation as concern for him.
"I heard Darkwing Duck-" a scowl flashed across Jim's face "-started patrolling these streets, and when you didn't come home, I was so worried." Drake had surely received your message by now and was on his way.
As you slipped the flip phone into your pocket, the thought gave you solace enough to raise your head and look the mad duck in the eyes for a moment, feigning relief. "But I can see I was just being silly, so I'll head home now."
The former actor scoffed as you went out of your way to walk around him. When you came within a few steps of him, he abruptly jumped in front of you. "Oh, really? And how exactly did you know that dunce would be here? I don't recall telling you."
You spared a glance at the mangled corpses behind Jim and the blood-stained chainsaw in his clutches, the itch in his voice to explode for hearing you say the name of his most hated nemesis causing a lie to spill out. "He's watching the whole city, right? So, I figured he'd come to this neighbourhood too."
