The cage revolved slowly above the blood lake that covered the dance floor. Unaware of the carnage below, Steve the budgie trapped inside admired himself in the tiny mirror.
Just fifteen minutes ago he had been too scared and distracted to do anything so soothing. The heavy bass thump and piercing electronic shrieks that came fromMidnight’s sound system had sent him fluttering in a panic that amused the gang of Lightboys who had brought it there.
Steve didn’t care thatMidnightwas the hottest club in Chappan, which meant it was the hottest club Domeside. He didn’t care that what happened was because of growing tensions above and below. All Steve cared about was that the music had stopped. The moans and wails of the Lightboys and Moongirls who the gang of Greasers had so mercilessly attacked were of no concern.
Directly below the cage the Lightboy who called himself Chaotic was screaming, staring at the bloody stumps where his hands used to be. Something about this made Steve puff up his chest as he preened. Chaotic had liked to spin his cage, to scare him. The noise he was making now seemed to be a fitting payment.
More people arrived, wearing matching uniforms. The injured were carted away, not one clubber killed but all hurt badly. Bots floated around the club, cleaning away blood and body parts.
No-one noticed Steve. Steve didn’t care, with everyone gone it was nice and quiet.
He enjoyed looking at himself in the mirror, marvelling as the colours from the lightshow played across his feathers.
© Robert Spalding 2011