Nightriders Battle of the Bands Part 6

    On the television, flames blasted from the stage as the red eyes of the giant skull above blazed with fire. The crowd roared with excitement as pillars of smoke seeped out from the floor. Once the smoke dissipated, a canine figure, who looked as though he’d just stepped out of the latest medieval fantasy movie, appeared at the center of the stage. He wore a helmet with devil horns and strangely carved armor, and a black cape fluttered behind him. His face was almost entirely hidden behind a long beard. He held a large staff with a skull that resembled the giant skull above the stage. Although impressed by the theatrical entrance, Axl found the canine’s appearance to be a little over the top.

    “Does this guy think he’s supposed to be, Satan or something?” Axl wondered aloud.

    “That’s Heathen, I believe,” murmured Lonnie after sipping from his snow cone. “The lead singer of the Warlocks.”

            “Looks like a pleasant fellow,” answered Axl sarcastically.

            “Tell me about it,” scoffed Lonnie. “That guy gives me the creeps.”

            Axl observed the rest of the band. To the left of the canine front man, there was a fierce, shaggy-haired hyena shredding on a red guitar while a longhaired lion played a bass that resembled an axe. A large brown-furred grizzly bear sat behind a double bass drum set that resembled skulls and bones. All were burly in appearance and dressed like barbarians from a Hollywood film.

            None, however, matched the malevolence of the lead vocalist who carried with him an aura of barbarous rage. Even as Axl and the canine’s red glowing eyes met through TV screen, he felt as if the canine was aware of his presence, and with every note the front man screamed, it felt as though the rage was meant for Axl. These were silly thoughts, of course, and Axl shrugged and took a sip of his drink.

            “Arrrrrrrrrrrrre yoooou ready for a night in hell, Beach City?” the canine said in a raspy voice.

            The crowd roared with excitement. The guitars wailed wail as if they were in pain, followed by chaotic drumming. Then a distorted riff that sounded as if it were emerging straight from hell carried the song.

    The devil Viking vocalist let out a long scream and began the first verse of the song. “Blood! Blood! Splatter! Splatter! The dreams of unbelievers shall be shattered!”

            “Sounds like the lyrics were written by a depressed thirteen-year-old,” Rolf snickered.

            “Yeah, not my cup of tea,” Axl agreed.

            Rolf pointed at the TV screen. “This is what’s wrong with the music industry these days. It’s all about trends and outrageous costumes and not about the music itself. No-talent bands like this one have to hide behind their stupid gimmicks because they know their music sucks.”

            “I don’t know,” Lonnie chimed in, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I have to admit, their drummer’s pretty mean on the double bass.”

            Axl grimaced at the sight of the vocalist biting off the head of a chipmunk. “Well, in the end, it’s about who can put on the better show, but these guys come off as if they take themselves way too seriously. And that’s coming from me, a front man in a metal band.”

            Rolf and Lonnie nodded in agreement, as they tried to ignore the show on screen and distract themselves with their refreshments.

Illustrations by Bluepisces97 

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Nightriders: Battle of the Bands Part 7

 

Nightriders: Battle of the Bands Part 1