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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A bizarre light invaded your field of view from above, causing you to recoil and raise an arm to shield your eyes. Euphoric and energized screams raged in every direction and reverberated through the area like cymbals as a popular disk jockey spun an electronic dance mix, but your focus drifted to the wobbling overhead stage lighting rig.
The apparatus was drooping heavily on one side with the fibres of numerous wires exposed to the world.
Many of the bolts and cables attaching the lights to the rig had slackened and ripped, resulting in the lights rocking back and forth precariously like church bells. Others remained attached by a single cord or loose nail on the verge of tearing or splitting.
You glanced at the disc jockey and the overhead rig, imagining every possible landing position and judging whether they would be crushed or not when it inevitably detached from the ceiling and collapsed onto the stage. The entertainer was stationed far enough towards the posterior that they would most likely escape with minimal injury, but your fleeting solace was soon torn from your grip like a toddler having their favourite toy stolen.
The person next to you suddenly bumped into your side and broke your concentration, prompting you to peek over your shoulder and gawk upon beholding an African grey parrot crowd surfing to the stage.
He wore a tan fringe vest and sported a bright pair of purple sunglasses, sticking his tongue out in a goofy smile as he held his phone in front of him and snapped multiple pictures. The throng carried him forward and placed him on the front of the stage in a swift diving motion, where he began to prance around and snap photos of himself like he owned the place.
The nearby security guards regarded the tall parrot with distaste but made no move to expel him from the premises.
As the booming tunes swelled and achieved a crescendo, you watched with horror as a wire on the overhead lighting rig finally succumbed to years of excessive use and snapped like a twig. The entire apparatus abruptly dropped several feet before clumsily catching itself, and you glanced at the parrot to see him posing directly underneath the failing equipment.
He slid his colourful sunglasses down his beak and extended his phone towards the ceiling, making a peace sign and smiling from ear to ear.
You frantically looked back and forth between the lighting rig and him, wanting desperately to bellow out a warning but knowing the animated crowd hooting and hollering on every side would drown out your voice like pebbles in a waterfall. Noticing that another cord was on the verge of giving out, you hurriedly began to shove past the rows of people standing between you and the stage.
The parrot showed no signs of moving, merely turning and leaning in various directions for his seemingly endless stream of photos.
You came to a halt at the foot of the stage, hesitant to clamber onto it and potentially cause a scene with the entire security division in full view of thousands of people. If you screamed bloody murder and attempted to move the parrot but the lighting rig did not fall any further, you would most likely be branded as one of the dime-a-dozen kooks that the festival attracts. No one would heed your warning until the mechanism collapsed and flattened someone like a pancake.
