Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

Zombie Flesh Eaters	By : ViorithDrakari Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Gorillaz Views: 1102 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Gorillaz. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter 2: Guilt-Stricken.

Russel pushed Murdoc down onto their couch and wandered off to gather some medical supplies, muttering to 2D to watch him and keep him in his seat. Russel carefully picked Noodle up to place her on his shoulders. “C’mon darlin’, I’m going to need your help with finding the stuff to fix Murdoc ok?” With a smile and an enthusiastic “Hai!”[1] Noodle agreed to help.

This, of course, left 2D to wallow in guilt and try to ignore the cold glare he was getting from Murdoc. He shifted uneasily from foot to foot, tapping his long fingers on his leg. The weight of the weapon in his hand and the weight of his guilt finally provoked him to speak. “Murdoc I…”

“Can it.” The bassist snapped. “Who the ‘ell gave Russel the idea ta give YOU a gun?” He was mostly muttering to himself at that point.

“But I, I didn’ try ta shoot ya Murdoc. I really, I mean… I… ’m sorry.” D’s lifeless eyes stared at the floor. He was in his key pose, arms behind his back and one hand gingerly tugging at his wrist.

“Yeah?” He paused as if accepting this. Then malice leaked into his gruff voice “I don’ believe that for a secon’ D.” The cold mismatched eyes bore into the singer’s soul.

2D winced, looking like someone just stabbed him in the gut, and moved to sit on the floor with his back against the couch. He draped his arms over his knees and studied his shoes.

After a moment of silence Murdoc began to dig through his pockets. He produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, lit one and put the pack in the pocket of his shirt. He took a slow drag, then removed the cigarette and exhaled the smoke through his nostrils. He draped his arm over the arm of the couch with the cigarette poised between two fingers. Ashes from the tip of his cig were tapped off and onto the floor.

It was then that the bassist heard a small noise come from the vocalist near his feet. As his mismatched eyes moved to study the younger man he realized the blue-haired boy was shaking. He watched his chest raggedly rise and fall a few times before a hand rose to wipe at his eyes. A groan rumbled in his throat and he placed the cigarette between his lips. So the dullard really was shaken up about the whole thing.

The vocalist stopped shaking for a moment as a thought occurred to him. Stu’s hand fished deep in his pocket and he produced the painkillers he so lovingly kept with him. Without looking at Murdoc he lifted the bottle towards him. With a small shake he bid the older man to take them. When there wasn’t a response he asked with sadness in his voice, “You really can’t fo’give me, can you?” His hand faltered a bit.

With an eyebrow cocked Murdoc reached down to snatch the bottle from the younger boy. “Don’ be an idiot.” As he eyed the label it occurred to him that he couldn’t open it with his bum arm. “…awright stu-pot now wot th‘ell do I do wit’ it?”

“Well, I figured you coul' take one, I dun fink it’ll help much but…” At that moment his dull eyes looked up at the other band member and realization hit him. “Oh. ‘m sorry.”

“WOULD YOU STOP FUCKIN’ APPOLOGIZIN’!” Without thinking Murdoc threw the bottle at D’s head. He watched it bounce off with a soft thud and landed on the floor, rolling to a stop at the table leg. He didn’t notice the fact that his cigarette was no longer in his mouth.

A whimper sounded from 2D as he rubbed his head and took the bottle from the floor. “Sor…” He was about to apologize again but stopped himself. A growl came from the guitarist in response. Muds jumped slightly with a start when he felt the cigarette burn his inner thigh. “FUCK!” He exclaimed and fished for the culprit. He finally found it and thumbed the hole it made with a curse. When he was finally able to calm down he stuck the thing back between his lips. “Damn, first my fav’rit shirt, now my best fuckin’ pair of pants.” He muttered to himself.

Startled 2D watched Murdoc squirm wondering if the exclamation was because of him until he saw the cigarette. He then sat fiddling with the top of the bottle nervously before it finally came off with a pop. He dumped a few pills into his palm and, with a shaky hand, lifted them up to Murdoc, trying not to make eye contact.

The bassist took the pills roughly from the other and swallowed them dry. It was better than nothing, and the others were taking their sweet time. He looked over his arm, seeing the streams of blood running down and soaking into his shirt. It had started to soak into the sofa too and he was beginning to feel light headed. A low sniffle from 2D took his attention away. He groaned again, “Stop it.” He muttered roughly and turned his eyes to the wall and away from Stu. “I don’ need anyone cryin’ for me. Especially you.”

“I…” there was a pause as Stu searched for something to say other than ‘sorry’. “…can’ help it.” He fiddled with the bottle slightly. “I jus’ don’ like hurtin’ people. Especially my friends.”

There was a long pause as Murdoc let this sink in. After everything he’d done to the lanky featherweight the boy still thought of him as a friend? His stomach knotted slightly and he had the urge to punch himself to make it go away. He was NOT having those sort of feelings towards ANYONE especially him. He was a heel, a jerk, a badass; everyone knew that, there wasn’t anything different. He just, never really had friends before. Though he had to reassure himself that he wasn’t going to start either. “Jus’ stop it awrigh’? It’s pathetic,” was all he could think to say. No telling D to take his friendship and shove it, or coming up with some other insult to make the kid cry again. And like hell was he going to say thank you or have a teary sharing of emotion.

The blue-haired singer gave a quiet nod though he continued to stare at the floor. A sigh passed Murdoc’s lips. That would have to do he guessed, he wasn’t any good at these things anyway.

3-2-10-8

Finally the other two returned with a bunch of supplies. Russel came over and sat with Murdoc taking a whiff at the air. “What’d you burn Muds?” he said this plainly with slight accusation.

“Wot? I dropped my cig, jeeze, it wos an accident not like I tried ta burn the twit or somethin’.” Murdoc said, rolling his eyes and setting his chin in his palm. He was nearly done with his cigarette by now.

“Fine, fine. Sit still while I take care of your arm alright?” Russel instructed while he set the bag of supplies in front of him and dug out the stuff he needed.

“Yeah, yeah, nothin’ I ‘aven’t been through befo’.” Murdoc muttered taking the last drag of his cig and snuffing it on the arm of the couch.

“Ok, take your shirt off.” Russel instructed, catching the odd look from Murdoc. “Well, would you rather I just cut the sleeve off ya instead? C’mon man, it’ll make things easier.” With a grumble, Murdoc complied.

Noodle sat by 2D and tilted her head slightly back and forth, until she was almost upside down trying to look at his face. “D-kun, were you crying?”

A small smile spread across his face, the girl was just way too intuitive. “A lit’le.” He couldn’t lie to her after all. He reached up and pressed the pad of his pointer finger to her nose. “But no worries awrigh’.”

Despite his words she produced a Band-Aid from her pocket and furrowed her brows. “Lift up your shirt D-kun.” She said sternly. A dark brow quirked but he tugged the edge of his shirt up to his chin. With a tilt of his head, he watched her take the paper strips off the sticky ends. She carefully placed it over his heart and grinned. “There,” She kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed it over his heart. “That should fix the wound you have.”

Stu’s brows knitted slightly as he felt his chest grow warm. He dropped his shirt and embraced Noodle. Since she’d arrived at Kong in a box, they’ve always been together. He became her older brother, he looked out for her, as she did for him and they had developed a strong bond over the years. As silly as her gesture was it meant a lot to him. She was a smart kid and by no means was she childish. But every now and then the kid came out in her when she wanted to cheer him up, that sweet innocence that cured any ailment. In a way, he thought perhaps that was her way of also telling him not to lose his childish side to the hard, adult industry that was music. To not loose himself in his work and to just enjoy what he was doing. After all, that was what music was about, expressing your self. It worked, of all the things that had happened to get him down, that small band-aid actually made him feel a whole lot better than he had.

“All better?” Noodle inquired when D finally released her from his hug.

“Much betta’ fanks again love.” He smiled and reached out to ruffle her hair. She gave a groan and swatted his hand away. “Stoppit! You’ll mess up my hair!” she cried. He chuckled as she tried to straighten out what he’d done. Well, after all, she was still a girl. Granted she wasn’t your typical female who has to use make-up and dress in frilly clothing, just enough of a girl without being too much of a tom-boy, a very happy medium.

“Sorry, Sorry.” He muttered to her with a grin.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH! SWEET MERCIFUL LUCIFER! STOP!” So much for the tender and playful moment 2D and Noodle were sharing. They immediately turned their attention to their screaming bassist. Murdoc always seemed to have a way of tossing a bag of week old dog shit into a party.

“Would you hold still? Wit’chu squirmin’ like that it’s just going to be worse!” Russel advised, trying to stop Murdoc from moving.

“Agh, ok…ok, jus’, jus’ stop with the… AAAAAAAAAAGH! FUARRRGRABLAAAHHHHGH! BLOODY 'ELL!”

“Shhhh, dammit, keep your voice down. Jeeze.” He continued prodding the bullet wound with a pair of tweezers, looking for the embedded bullet. He used his other hand to dab the wound clean with a rag doused in a powerful antiseptic.

Murdoc was trying to control his squirming, but he was grinding his teeth together so hard that he nearly broke them. “I thought you could handle this Muds? You said ‘nothin’ you haven’t been through before’. What happened to that eh?”

“Shut yer face, jus’ gimme somethin’ to bite down on.” His eyes fell on 2D. “C’mere D… ya owe me one. Gimme yer arm.”

“Wot? No way in ‘ell Murdoc!” He pulled his arm back and shied away as if the bassist could reach out at any moment and snag him. Though instead he found Russel grabbing his wrist and pulling him closer. “C’mon D… He’s right.” Though Russel had a mischievous grin on his face.

“NO!Nononononononon NOOOO!” Stu squirmed like there was no tomorrow, unable to get his wrist free of Russels grip. His wrist came awfully close to Murdoc’s face. He could feel his sweltering breath on his skin. Murdoc’s long snake like tongue wrapped around his fore arm, coating it in the slime that was his saliva. With a shudder he turned his head away. His skin felt like a thousand ants were crawling around underneath the layers. The fear hit him as he heard the sound of the Satanists teeth gnashing together. He started to shake, anticipating pain. Then he was let go, only to fall onto his side on the floor. All the others could do was laugh their asses off at him.

“Nah D, I wouldn’t do that to ya.” Russel assured him.

“Wot? Why not eh? Giv’em to me.” Murdoc said sounding slightly disappointed. A wicked grin still spread across his face as his long tongue licked his lips and teeth in anticipation.

“Naw Muds, It was a joke.” He took Murdoc’s bloody, torn up shirt and rolled it up a bit. He then shoved it into the bassist’s mouth. “There… it’s already destroyed, so have at it wit’cho teeth.” Without warning he dug right back into the wound.

Murdoc went ridged as his screams were muffled. His grubby nails dug into the arm of the chair and his boots dug into the carpet. “Just a little more.” Russel continued. “GOT IT!” Russ stated happily then showed the bullet to Murdoc. “See that wasn’t so bad.” This of course got an angry glare, a snarl, and a muffled phrase that sounded like a promised death.

1. "Hai!" erm, if you haven't figured it out on your own is just "yes."
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Zombie Flesh Eaters