My mind slipped back into consciousness slowly.
A wave of sickness fell over me as I barely opened my eyes, my head throbbing. I brought my hand slowly to my face, wincing as I felt a large gash on the top left of my forehead. I examined my fingers, small fragments of dried blood flaking off of them.
Sighing deeply; I sat up slowly, my head pounding from the movement. My eyes wandered the room as I desperately tried to put the pieces together of what had happened to me, or where I was; but any sort of thinking only seemed to make my splitting headache worse.
Suddenly I remembered the man, his face, his eyes; and my breathing stopped.
I examined the room I was in carefully. It was eerie and left me perturbed, unsettled. There weren't many things in it—a dresser, a lamp, the bed, and a large painting that hung on the wall. I looked around in bewilderment, without the lamp the room would be completely somber; there was no light leaking from any other areas of the room.
Slowly I got up from the bed, my muscles were incredibly achy and weak; they hurt badly, as if I had ran a marathon the day before. What did he do to me? I thought to myself, pushing my legs over the side of the bed.
My bare feet hit the cold floor and I jumped at the chilling sensation, wincing as pain shot through my left leg. I took a deep breath and relaxed before standing up on my opposite leg. Weaker than I realized, my body began to shake before I fell, catching myself on the dresser. The small lamp that sat on top the dresser slowly swayed before it fell off and slammed onto the floor below. It shattered on impact, and I quickly covered my mouth. Silently sitting there, I was half expecting someone to come barging into the room to investigate the noise; but to my surprise, the hallway behind the door seemed to be awfully quiet. I let out a small sigh as my head pounded harder than before, but I refused to give up.
Despite the pain I was feeling throughout, I managed to get back on my feet. I let myself breathe deeply through my nose for a moment, taking in the unfamiliar smell of the room. My bottom lip trembled as I began to cry softly, a feeling of homesickness falling over me. Never once did I think I'd miss my shithole of an apartment, not until now.
My eyes wandered the space again, and I noticed a bit of light coming from the back of the room. Limping over to it curiously, I tried to get a better look at what I saw. On the wall was a window hidden behind a curtain, a small ray of sunlight shining through the glass. Tilting my head, I reached it with a deep breath. As I peered through the glass, a gasp escaped me as I saw what was outside.
There was nothing visible from beyond the window apart from a vast view of the ocean.
My breathing halted in my throat as I began to panic. Turning my attention to the edge of the window, I looked for some sort of latch to open it. When I finally located it, I felt tears brim the edges of my eyes as I noticed it was broken off, and I began to pry at the window desperately. Taking a deep breath, I swung my fist at the window, hitting it roughly. Wincing as I drew my hand away, I shook away the pain that reverberated through my arm, continuing to pound on the glass. My punching got louder as I began to use more force, determination flowing through me.
The sound of footsteps echoed from beyond the door and an unlocking sound rang from behind me. As the sound of the door flying open echoed through the room, I quickly turned to see the man in the doorway.
"What the bloody hell was that?" I heard the man bellow, his raspy voice filling the room.
Unable to hold back my tears as I looked at him, I shook my head in disbelief. Hysteria fell over me as I glanced at where the lamp had fallen, and ran to it. Without hesitation, I quickly grabbed a piece of the bulb, and held it to my wrist. My eyes met my captor's, his dark expression twisted with a glare.
"D-don't come any closer." I choked out, motioning to my wrist. "I'll do it."
"Of course I'd nab the barmy bird." The man groaned, mostly to himself before his attention turned back to me, "No, you won't."
My hand gripped the glass shard roughly, and I winced as I pressed it against my skin a bit harder. My eyes stayed on the man, and he shook his head. He closed his eyes for a moment before bringing his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose with a loud sigh. Before I could do anything—he turned back to the door, shut it, and locked it promptly before making his way over to me.
A cry emitted from me as he went for my hand, squeezing the glass from my grip. After tossing the shard to the ground, he grabbed my arm and forced me towards the bed.
"No! Let go!" I screamed out as I kicked and punched at him wildly.
"Pipe down, slag, would ya'?" He grumbled as we reached the bed, and he shoved me down on it with an aggressive push.
Quickly moving to the opposite edge of the bed, I hit my back on the wall with a thud. He observed me and shook his head with a large smirk plastered across his face.
"W-where am I?" I questioned as I held my head in pain.
His menacing smile slowly faded as he looked at me, and a strange feeling surfaced in my stomach. He moved, walking over to where I had dropped the lamp, and crouched down. Picking up the shards of glass carefully, his back muscles tensed through his shirt.
Taking the opportunity, I looked down at my leg. My left calf was purple, and it ached with the slightest touch. Holding back a wince as I ran my hand over the mark, tears began to fall down my face.
"I'll break it if you pull another one of your stunts." The man's voice echoed from across the room. "You break my things, I break your's kinda thing."
My gaze returned to where he was crouched, his back still facing me. With a deep breath, he stood up slowly and adjusted his posture. His body turned to me, but his eyes were on the glass he held in his hands. He brought his thumb to stroke over the pieces in his palm, a dark expression on his face.
"What do you want from me?" I asked through a whimper.
The man's eyes met mine as he pocketed the shards slowly. His jaw tensed, the look of grimace on his face forming a scowl.
"You're gonna have a bad time here if you keep that up, Juliet." He warned with a growl.
My captor calling me by my name only made me more anxious, and I felt my body begin to shake.
"How do you know who I am?" I questioned him, my voice shaky.
"You just love your bloody questions, don't you? Think this is some kind of interview?" He tsked, shaking his head. "You don't get to ask questions yet. Be a good girl for me, and then maybe I'll indulge your curiosity."
Those words coming from his mouth sent bile up my throat, desperate to escape. I resisted, my anxiety holding me with an iron grip. His expression suddenly changed, back to one more playful, the corners of his mouth slowly forming a grin. He was enjoying this.
"I'm surprised you haven't recognized me already." He paused, raising an eyebrow. "You'd think the green skin and the red eye'd give it away. Murdoc Niccals, you know? A true deity... Philanthropist even, of my own kind. And you know, the leader and mastermind behind Gorillaz. You're a big fan of me actually, I noticed songs from both my albums were on your phone."
Gorillaz.
Memories of Ren came flooding over me and I closed my eyes. The memory went sour as fear surfaced in my mind, my arms tensing. I suppressed a sob as he continued.
"I'm flattered, really." Murdoc grinned; the way he talked sounded so cynical, like a sociopath. "Honestly, I thought 'Demon Days' was utter shite, too much influence from our lead guitarist at the time, Noodle—lovely little lass, might I add—who's sadly left us. Probably for the better." He finished, quickly.
Murdoc took a moment before continuing, "The only redeeming part of that rubbish was the harmonious bass riffs from yours truly. Did well though, on paper. Hard to complain, but I find a way. Blew through the earnings faster than I would have liked, it took a clever scheme to muster up the funds to build this place—only someone as brilliant as me could come up with a plan like that."
A few moments of silence passed between us. Murdoc tapped his foot against the ground a few times before looking back at me.
"Are you always so boring in a conversation? Bloody shoulders hurt from carrying this little chat of ours."
"What am I supposed to say?" I questioned, shaking my head once again, "You've only been talking about yourself. Besides, I'm not even a fan, Ren wa—"
"Fucking hell, here we go again with Renny boy! You just love talking about him, don't ya'? I take it back, I prefer it when you're quiet." He took a few steps in my direction with a grin. "It's alright to admit when you're wrong, love. But don't let me get ahead of myself, we've got a lot more important business to discuss—much more important than you admitting you fancy me and my artistic endeavors, along with their successes."
My hands formed fists as I turned from him in disgust.
"You look like you're itchin' to say something. If it's more slander, you can save it, slag." Murdoc snapped, breaking me from my thoughts.
My gaze slowly met his, confusion falling over me as I shook my head. "Are you... drunk?"
"Took you this long to finally say something, and it's another bloody question? You know how I feel about those. Ignoring the thing you said before about not being a fan of course, you didn't mean that, did you?" As I opened my mouth to defend my previous statement, he continued, "You'd know if I was pissed, love. I'd be a lot more talkative after a bottle of Harrogate Rum—hell, maybe a bit randy with a pretty bird like you 'round. If Ren were here, might even ask him to join us—sorry. Anyways..."
Forcing my gaze away from him, I repressed a gag. His eyes stayed on me for a moment before he pulled out one of the shards from his pocket to look at. My breathing stopped momentarily as he stared at the glass, leaving me with an uneasy feeling.
"You know what? It's not important. Probably the least important thing right now. You're bloody delirious—must be if you don't think you like me—so we'll talk about it tomorrow."
The only response I could find was giving him a confused look.
"This," He glanced at me, holding up the piece of glass, "This has already gotten you in a lot of trouble. We'll try again tomorrow."
Suddenly he turned around and made his way to the door. He went to grab the handle to leave, and I stopped him as an idea struck me; whether or not it was a smart one, I didn't have time to decide.
"W-wait!" I called to him and he looked back at me with a confused stare. Choking on my words I added, "I have to go to the bathroom..."
He scoffed and rolled his eyes slightly, "Shit in the corner for all I care, princess."
"No!" I yelled at him. He shot me a harsh glare and I cleared my throat, "I mean a real bathroom... Please..."
His dark eyes looking me up and down did absolutely nothing to help my anxiety. The sight of him terrified me, and he knew it very well. My hands trembled uncontrollably as I pushed them close to my chest in an attempt to hide my fear. Finally his body moved, and he spoke.
"Fine," he muttered, "You want a bathroom, I'll show you to a bloody bathroom."
His hand locked around my wrist tightly as he pulled me off the bed in one fluid motion, pain shooting down my arm. I winced and yelped as I landed on my bad leg, getting no response from my captor as he continued. Limping forward to keep at his pace, we moved down a long corridor, passing a few doors before settling on one. Murdoc threw me in by the wrist, and to my horror, entered with me, closing and locking the door behind him.
"I—uh..." I stumbled over my words, embarrassment plastered across my face.
"What, all of a sudden you're shy?" He shook his head, no emotion on his face. "Hurry up."
Anxiety flowed through my heart once more. The plan, whatever it was, was not going accordingly. My eyes quickly scanned the bathroom, falling on the mirror for a brief moment before his raspy voice caught my attention again.
"I haven't got all day." Murdoc snapped from behind me and I ran my hands through my hair.
"I can't go with you standing there." I played along, eyeing the mirror.
Looking at myself, I cringed. My blonde hair was a mess on top of my head, adorned by the prominent bruise surrounding my right eye, darkening the blue-green iris.
Without a word, Murdoc scoffed, turning around dramatically. I felt my heart race in my chest as I saw my options playing in my mind. In an attempt to seize the opportunity, I picked up the bar of soap that laid on the counter near the sink. With all my energy, I slammed it into the mirror on the wall, a few shards falling onto the counter.
My fingers started to tremble as I grabbed a piece of the glass before quickly lunging at Murdoc. He let out a loud groan of pain as the sharpest end of the glass was lodged into his side, and the force I had used to puncture him caused the shard to also leave a deep cut along my own palm. Letting out a pathetic whimper, I let go of the glass. To my horror, I was met face to face with the man as he swiveled on his heel, looking at his own wound in disbelief. The shard of glass was still lodged just above his waist, and I my breathing became shaky as I realized how nonlethal that particular injury actually was.
Strong hands gripped the piece of glass, and with wide-eyes I watched Murdoc pull it out from his waist, taking a few moments to stare at what was in his hand. Blood dripped onto the bathroom tile, instantly turning my stomach at the sight. Time seemed to slow down as I watched the emotions forming and dissolving on the man's face in a rapid succession, and once he'd settled on one, his gaze rose to mine. His eyes were dark and wild, almost animalistic. Anger was not strong enough a word to describe what I saw in them.
"You fucking, whore!" Murdoc growled, gripping the shard tightly in his hand, certainly enough to break the skin.
Panic filled me as I watched the bloodied glass drop on the floor, what seemed like a thousand shards exploding across the tile. Without a warning, the back of my captor's hand made contact with my face in a quick motion. Screaming as something sharp cut me simultaneously, my body fell to the floor. As I pressed myself up off the tile, my heart stopped as I saw blood drip onto the floor slowly, this time it was my own. The feeling of small pieces of glass on my face where I had landed on the floor was almost sand like, and I tried to wipe it away only to find the back of my hand covered in blood. Taking in the pain I was feeling in my face, I closed my eyes as tears swelled in them.
I heard Murdoc kick some of the shards to the side before crouching down on one knee to where I laid. I could feel his fingers snake through my hair before he pulled me to face him.
"Let go of me!" I kicked at him as tears ran down my face.
"What did I say about breaking my fucking things?" He bellowed as I received another hit to the same spot.
The pain nearly tripled after that hit, and the corners of my vision turned white as I slumped into his grip. Unfortunately for me he was strong, and had no problem holding my now limp figure by my scalp. His words echoed through my head. The fact he was more upset over the broken mirror than the laceration to his waist proved further that this man was out of his goddamn mind. The crazy and sporadic tones in his voice only made this fear worse, and as I found myself coming back round, I struggled to form any words at my defense.
"S-stop... please!" I begged, his grip on my hair tightening.
"Really? 'Oh, s-s-stop, p-p-please'." He laughed coldly as he mocked me, "Keep on begging, princess, doesn't work on me. A-a-ah, why does everyone say that, anyways? Before they get punished? Break not one, but two of my bloody things, what'd you think was gonna happen, you—you git?"
As he spoke, he started twitching slightly as his speech became less coherent and much faster. At this point I was terrified, I had no idea what he was planning behind the small grin I could see barely edging his lips. There was a crazy look in his eyes, and just as quickly as it was there, it was gone. He paused for a moment before looking at me, with sympathetic eyes.
"O-oh, you know, I think I've had a change of heart, love. Yeah... as a matter of fact, I'll call up a boat to send you home. May as well give you the bloody keys to my submarine—or, or I can pack you up in my little suitcase and ship you off in the post. Yeah, yeah—maybe I'll just chuck you off the sodding dock in it, see if you can catch a ride before you drown!" The sarcasm faded from his voice as he growled, "Fuck off."
Tears fell down my face as I felt him let go of me; I choked out, "Fuck you..."
"I wouldn't test your luck." Murdoc warned, standing up. "It's taking everything in me not to drop you off on a deserted island in the tropics after the stunt you just pulled."
"Rather that than this." I said honestly, but it seemed to come off as a sarcastic whiff gauging from the man's reaction.
Before replying he grabbed me by my left arm roughly, pulling me to my feet. A head rush hit me like a ton of bricks as I stood too quickly, and I let out a loud whimper.
"How does no food or water for three days sound instead?" He hissed, closer to my face than I would have liked.
Even though he asked it as a question, I already knew it wasn't one. My heart started pounding as I slowly shook my head, but before I could bring myself to say anything, he was already speaking over me.
"I'll give you one more chance." He sounded as if he was trying to not get more upset as he continued, "Say you're sorry, and I'll pretend you didn't just stab me with a piece of glass."
My eyes widened as I stared at him in confusion, I couldn't understand why he was even giving me a chance at all. Suspicious of his statement, I tried to shake my arm free from his grasp, but he only gripped my arm tighter in return. My eyes danced between where he held me and the floor as I felt tears uncontrollably rushing down my cheeks. Even though, for my own sake, I wanted to believe a simple sorry would fix this, my heart told me it wouldn't.
"I-I..." Is all I could manage as I sat there, whimpering pathetically.
Looking around the room, I tried to find something, anything to use for my own defense. My gaze met another piece of glass that was just within arms reach, resting on the counter. Quickly looking towards my captor, I could see he had followed my gaze, and before I could even think to grab the glass, he had me pushed up against the opposite wall. The back of my head hit the drywall with a thump, and pain shot through me once again. His free hand was now holding my other arm, pinning me to the wall.
"You barmy bitch!" He growled, his voice cracking with frustration.
"I-I'm... sorry-" I barely spoke above a whisper, my eyes closing; my body trembled against the wall.
"You—you fucking will be!" Murdoc bellowed, the vibrations of his voice sending an icy chill rushing down my spine.
There was a moment of silence between us as his attention turned to the toilet. When he returned his gaze to me, a nauseous feeling surfaced inside my stomach.
The sound of my cries filled the bathroom as I heard him stand up, my head falling to the floor. Suddenly hands pulled me up by my arms, and I was dragged to the toilet promptly after. Murdoc lifted the seat and seat cover up and turned me so I was looking into the bowl. I shook my head, trying to take a glance at him but he grabbed me by my hair once again, holding me where I was, laughing maniacally.
Suddenly, he forced my head into the water. My screams were muffled as I tried to fight back, pushing myself away with both my hands, but his grip was strong. I lost air as I was held there, my mind going fuzzy as the oxygen depleted from my lungs. My thrashing slowed as I tried to lower my heart rate, and before I knew it, he pulled my head back up.
"Fight me, you're fighting for air." His grip tightened around the back of my head and neck, "I own you now. Got that?"
All I could do was nod in response, my head spinning as I breathed in deeply. My eyelids grew heavy as I felt his grip loosen on my hair. I couldn't stop myself from coughing, and the pain in my cheek subsided as I felt my body relax into his. I looked towards the ground once more, and the sight of my own blood turned my stomach upside down, nauseating me.
With a grunt he pulled me up off the floor, his grip on my neck releasing as his hand moved to the back of my shirt. Before I knew what was happening, he opened the door and dragged me out of the bathroom.
My feet kicked wildly as I struggled to stay standing, my captor leading me down the hallway once more. My eyes watered at the pain surging through my bad leg, and before I knew it I was thrown onto to the floor of what I assumed was my room.
My gaze rose to look at the man, but just as I did this, the door was slammed shut, leaving me alone.