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spyder1070 posted this on Mon Oct 06, 2014 2:13 am | View user's profileSend private messageReply with quote

Black as Night. (story)


Inspired by an idea that made me go "hmmmmm" quite some time ago. It hasn't been written as a story with a conclusion. There is no conclusion, just questions. All of which are up to you to ask and answer yourself.

Gorillaz (c) J Hewlett and associates.


Noodle is in her room taking a break from the “Murdoc Show” and watering her Bonsai collection, when a sudden thump outside her door catches her attention and she pauses, listening to the growling snarl for a moment. It’s quickly followed by the squeaky voice of her band mate, Stuart, probably protesting the treatment that he is being forced to endure today. Which inevitably is brought to conclusion by another thump, which is the typical response his pleas for help brings him and a possible signal to tell her that whatever had preceded it has now come to an end. Slowly shaking her head and once again turning her attention back to her plants, Noodle sighs and hopes that one day the singer will catch a clue and realise that the only way to put an end to his torture is to stop being the weakest person in the room and show the cruel bassist that there is someone inside that willowy younger man, that just isn’t going to take it anymore. Smiling at the sudden image of Stuart seated astride the green skinned bassist and punching him repeatedly, she pinches a dead leaf from a branch and returns the tiny watering can to a nearby caddy.

Things have ground almost to a complete halt for the band. With Hewlett and Albarn no longer speaking to each other, it has given her and her band mates very little to do. On the one hand this isn’t such a bad thing. The possibly temporary hiatus has given her time to do a little research on all things Hell related and maybe find out what is going on behind Murdoc’s door without him knowing. Russel typically had encouraged her mental machinations and musings, often joining into the lengthy conversations that they evoked and giving her new lines of inquiry to follow. Not this time though. The large American has backed away from the subject and almost point blank refuses to even peek at the information that she has so far gathered. He’d only just tolerated Murdoc’s insistence on dipping his big toe in satan’s breakfast every morning. Asking the guy to deliberately take a look down the front of the evil being’s pyjama bottoms was just a step too far, she muses to herself with a flickering smile of amusement.

Returning to her laptop and taking a seat at the desk, she flicks her finger lightly over the touchpad and pulls up a new tab; picking up her bottle of water she sits back in her chair and takes a moment to think carefully about what to ask, she then types a single word in the browser, “Demons”. A number of subjects appear on the screen and she scrolls though them. Not one of them gives her anything that she hasn’t seen before so she types something else into the box, “What do demons look like?” Chuckling as she clicks the search button, because she half expects to find information about Murdoc mixed in the response somewhere, she’s taken aback when a bunch of images appears, one of which is a picture of a girl with black eyes, exactly like Stuart’s.

Sipping her water and staring into the dark eyes of the girl, Noodle rocks her chair from side to side and runs through a list of possibilities before putting the bottle down and typing “black eyes” into the browser. Almost instantly the screen is full of websites that are devoted to the supernatural and she picks one that has the header “Black eyed children”, then sitting back she reads the subject matter while silently taking small sips of water. By the time she has finished absorbing what has been said; taking the time to read all of what the internet has to say on the beings, not sticking to any single opinion, Noodle finds herself mentally arguing that the singer is one of the creatures and it’s merely a coincidence. His peculiar appearance is due to injury, she thinks and nods. Then standing and shutting off her laptop she makes her way to the door taking her water bottle with her.

Stopping short of placing her hand around the door handle and opening the door she catches herself considering the idea that Stuart is either possessed by or is in fact a demon. Sniggering into her chest she shakes the thought from her head. After all, the guy is far too sweet natured and Murdoc hates him. Moving to open the door again she once again stops when another thought passes, one that reminds her just how deceptive demons can be. Maybe that is what she and everyone else is expected to think? It’s a cover for whatever nastiness the bassist had planned and the singer was a part of it. They only have Murdoc and Stuart’s word that his black eyes were caused by injury and who knows what was said and done during the time that he and the bassist lived together in the Winnebago, before Kong and before she and Russel became a part of their story. What if it has all been some Hellish plan? What does he truly want and how exactly are they involved? Is there any way to find out the truth without alerting either one of them? Stealing a little more courage and steadying her nerves, she opens the door and calmly makes her way down the stairs.

Stepping into the kitchen she sees Murdoc at the table, rocking back and forth on the back legs of his chair; he grins at her but she ignores him, imagining the sleazy thoughts that are more than likely slipping like snakes through the older man’s mind. Walking to the sink and refilling her bottle, she tries to block the sudden influx of images and sounds that she had endured in Hell. Just being in the same room as the man that had been responsible for her having gone there in the first place annoys her considerably. Overcome with anger she reaches back and slaps him incredibly hard on the back of the head; which causes him to fall forwards, slamming his face against the table and momentarily becoming dazed by this, he weakly slides down his chair, almost falling onto the floor under it.

“Bloody... What the Hell did you do that for?” the bassist grunts, his voice muffled behind the hand that is cupped over his mouth. Checking his palm for blood he runs his tongue over his teeth, grimacing at the slight metallic taste.

“If I was ever to do what you were thinking of just then, it would never be naked, nor with you, you nasty old man,” she responds flatly and walks from the room. Blinking in surprise at the now empty doorway the bassist wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sits up straighter in his chair.

“You did it when you were a damn robot, you bi*ch!” Thinking a little harder about what he’d just shouted at her, Murdoc grunts and slides a cigarette from the packet on the table. “Well I mean the metal bi*ch did, but she was made from your DNA, so it still counts!”

Ignoring the remark, because she knows that reacting to it fuels him into taking things further, Noodle makes her way back upstairs. Passing the lounge room she catches a flash of blue and stops walking, taking a backward step and leaning against her spine to look into the room. The sight of the singer slumped sadly on the sofa makes her soften a little and with a sigh she turns and makes her way over to him. It takes a moment for him to realise that she’s standing there, but when he does he raises his head and smiles with that wide gap toothed grin that somehow makes the world seem just a little less dark.

“Hullo Noo.” There is no possible way that Stuart could either be possessed or a demon, she thinks and takes a seat next to him. He’s far too nice and his innocent nature leans far too heavily towards the other side of things.

“What are you watching?” she asks softly with a slight nod of her head towards the flickering television screen. Letting his smile fall away he looks at it, but hadn’t actually been watching, so he doesn’t really know. Shrugging and looking back at her he sheepishly giggles and hopes that she doesn’t take this as a cue to leave again. “Okie, video time then?” she asks, giving the older man a reason to almost squeak in happiness.

“Uh yeah yeah, we haven’t finished watching this one,” he says as he dives from the chair and grabs one from the shelf next to the television. Waggling back at her he can almost feel time slowing down while waiting to hear her response; for a little more than a breath he almost expects her to say no and leave the room.

“That is true, put it on,” Noodle smiles and watches him load the disc into the machine. The very idea that he is even remotely like Murdoc is silly, she thinks and inwardly laughs the idea off, concentrating on the film instead. Failing to see the slow turn of the singer’s head, she misses the cruel flicker of a half smile on his face as he secretly watches her rather than the show on the screen, using her audible clues and laughing when she laughs to mask his actions.

The End.

All Hail the Purple Cloud of Mystery.

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