Jacob Niccals is sitting in the kitchen watching his five year old son Murdoc, trying to sing a song that Jacob has taught him. The boy is rather strange looking, with black hair and even blacker eyes. To look at his eyes, you would be rather hard pressed to find the pupils in them. His skin is a soft green color and he has very distinctive long fingernails, that really look more like talons. The only other notable thing about his peculiar features are his teeth, as they are sharp and pointed like a sharks. Not that the boys father has ever seemed to notice or care that this young boy was not your average run of the mill little boy. From the first moment he laid eyes on the child. Who he found dumped on his doorstep not more than two years ago. He should of realized something wasn't quite right, given the large raven that was perched on the handle of the boys pram. This child was different. The young boy watches his fathers reaction carefully, as he struggles to remember the words. He gets to the chorus and for a moment feels relieved that he has gotten this far, without making a mistake. Suddenly the words just seem to disappear from his mind and he stops. Jacob stares hard at the boy, waiting. Murdoc looks down at his feet in moment of sheer panic thinking hard, but the words just don't seem to come to come to him and his stomach tightens, making him feel sick. The old man slams the table hard with his hand and stands up, looking down at the boy threateningly. Murdoc puts his hands out in defence, stepping quickly backwards to avoid the third beating he has received since starting the whole song.
"How many times we gotta go through it!?" Jacob snarls picking up his belt from the table and turning to the terrified young boy. Murdoc cringes and looks to the door, for a moment thinking about escape. Jacob smiles and leans his weight on one hip, knowing exactly what the little boy is thinking. "I dare ya!" Murdoc looks back at his father, wringing his hands and biting his lip with worry. He knows if he did it would just get worse, he had nowhere to really run. Jacob Knows that to and smiles walking over to the young boy and grabbing him cruelly by the arm. Digging his fingers into the boys soft flesh. Murdoc yelps as Jacob lifts him off the floor and tosses him down to his knees. The belt swings through the air, catching the boy square between the shoulder blades. Murdoc cries out in pain and scrambles forwards, trying to get away. As Jacob brings down the belt again and again. Swinging it back high over his head and cracking it hard across the young boys back like a whip.
Half an hour later. Jacob sits back down at the table, laying the belt back on the table in front of him. Murdoc lays on the floor, still curled up in a protective ball, weeping and sniffling. His shirt has lifted a little, showing part of the young boys back. Some of the angrily burning welts on his skin, from the belting he has received. Can clearly be seen on the little boys back. They criss-cross over each other, making it difficult to count how many times the leather had come into contact with the young boys body. A few of the larger ones have broken the skin and small trickles of blood run down his spine. His father reaches out across the table and slides a cigarette from the packet in front of him, listening to the young boy sniffling. He gradually becomes annoyed with the sound and angrily turns once again on the boy. Reaching back his fist as if to punch him.
"Stop yer whingin' ya useless piece of shit. Ya think that was bad? Ha! Keep goin' and I'll really give ya summink ta snivel about." He snarls, lighting the cigarette and blowing the smoke out towards the small boy. Murdoc swallows hard and tries to stop crying. Slowly climbing to his feet and once again standing before the cruel old man. His head swirls a little, his vision blurring and his ears ring loudly. He closes his eyes as a feeling of nausea passes over him. "GIT BACK OVER THERE NOW!" Jacob yells, slamming his hand down on the table again. Murdoc jumps and stares at his father like a frightened rabbit. The old man moves as if about to stand up again. Murdoc moves quickly back into place and swallows hard again. He starts singing the song from the beginning again and hopes that this time, he'll remember it all. Finally Murdoc reaches he end of the song and smiles. Happy he has completed it without mistakes. He looks up at his dad, somewhere inside he holds his breath waiting for praise. But Jacob stubs out his cigarette and looks hard at the boy.
"About time an'all. What the fuck are you smiling about! Don't tell me ya think that was good. It was rrrubbish. Ya sing like a straggled cat. No. I take that back. The cat would sound better. Yer pathetic. Do it again and this time I wancha ta make me feel summink more than the need ta vomit. Ya got me?" Jacob snarls. Murdoc bows his head as his confidence leeches out through his feet and into the floor. He takes a deep breath and tries again, desperately trying to make his choking voice sound a lot better. Once again he reaches the end and looks up at his father. Jacob shrugs and stands up, walking over to the nervous little boy, who instinctively raises his hands in front of his face. The old man stares at him and grabs the boys hands, pulling them sharply from his face. "Better. Now git ta bed. We have work ta do in the mornin'." He drops his hand on Murdoc s head and turns the boy around slapping him on the buttocks hard to make him move quickly, Murdoc yelps again and moves quickly away.
The little boy climbs slowly up the stairs to his bedroom, his back pounding in pain. He opens his bedroom door and steps into the small spartan room. There is hardly anything in the room to show that anyone actually uses it. The walls are gray and in some areas the paint work is cracked and peeling. A mattress is on the floor with a pillow, but hardly any bedclothes. A small wooden box in the corner with a few odds and ends on top of it. The small boys meagre possessions. There is one average sized window on one wall, with dirty stained netting and green sun bleached curtains covering it. But overall there is nothing really significant about the room itself. Murdoc slowly peels his bloody shirt from his back, wincing as it has dried to the skin in some places. He turns around, twisting his small body, trying to see the wounds on his back. But can't really seem to get a good look at it. He gives up and tired, yawns and stretches. Moving slowly over to his mattress, flopping down onto it and pulling the pillow close. The young boy buries his face deep into it and quietly cries himself to sleep.
In his sleep. He dreams about his Mum coming one day to rescue him from this evil man. She is beautiful in his dream, but in reality he can't really remember quite what she looks like. His memory of her is more the smell of her hair and the softness of her skin. A fleeting glimpse of her smile and a laugh like the gentle sound of a babbling brook. She picks him up and holds him in his dream. Holding him close to her and telling him that he's safe now. Nothing will ever hurt him again and holds his head to her soft chest. He can hear the sound of her heart beat. Her soft breath as it blows warmly across his face. He sighs and hangs on tightly to the dream. Never wanting to let go. 'Don't let go of me Mum. Don't let go.' In reality. The woman will probably never come to collect her little boy. She is locked in a sanatorium for the insane and incredibly bored. But it doesn't stop the little boy from hoping.
The next morning the young boy wakes up and wanders from his room over to the bathroom. He yawns and stretches then leans heavily on the handle expecting the door to open, only to find it locked. He steps back and looks down at the handle, jiggling it. His sleep laden mind, not quite understanding for a moment. It dawns on him that Hannibal is obviously in there, as his father is the only one allowed to use the downstairs bathroom. Murdoc bounces a little from one foot to the other as his bladder cramps in knot of tight urgency. The boy knocks on the door quietly. Desperately trying to get Hannibal s attention.
"I need the toilet. Are ya gunna be long?" He calls out. For a moment there is silence, so thinking perhaps Hannibal hadn't heard him. Murdoc knocks again, but a little louder this time. "Hannibal?"
"Fuck off ya little scrotum!" Hannibal shouts back angrily through the door. The young boy steps back from the door with a sigh and clutches his crotch. He walks over to the wall and leans heavily against it, his back still a little tender from the beating he received the night before. The boy winces but for the most part ignores the pain, as he has far more pressing needs to think about. He slides a little way down the wall and stares at the bathroom door. Knowing his dad is going to be taking him down the pub later. Murdoc starts singing the song that his dad had taught him. Thinking perhaps that the more he practices it, the happier Jacob might be with his performance and perhaps his dad might even let him have something to eat. One of Jacobs favorite incentives, being that only people who bring in money to the house and don't make the old man look bad, deserve to be fed. If anything, it would take his mind off his urgent need to pee right now.
A few minutes later, Murdoc s stomach cramps tightly and the young boy realizes he is very close to wetting himself. Given that Hannibal doesn't seem to be coming out any time soon. The boy decides to give up and bodily presses himself away from the wall, letting the momentum carry him back into an upright position. Clutching his genitals tightly, moves quickly to the stairs and over to the front door. He bounces a little as he fumbles with the door and practically kicks it open as he rushes past it. Dashing around to the side of the house. Murdoc crosses his legs and desperately undoes his fly, gritting his teeth and sucking quick almost painful breaths between his unusually sharp, shark-like teeth. Finally he is able to relieve himself and sighs deeply as the pain subsides. He leans his head back, closing his eyes and slowly rocking back and forth as the tight feeling in his stomach and bladder ebbs away.
"Dad! Murdoc is pissin' on the side of the house again!" Hannibal calls from the bathroom window, almost directly over Murdoc s head. The young boy snaps his eyes open and is struck in the face with a bucket of water. He jumps back but it is far too late, water drips from his hair and down the front of his shirt. He looks down at his now drenched clothes, as Hannibal pulls his head back in the bathroom window laughing hysterically. Murdoc hears the front door creak on it's hinges and knows that when he steps around the corner, Jacob is going to be standing there waiting for him. He gingerly does up his fly and pulls his shirt down, walking slowly back to the front door. Sure enough, he sees Jacob standing at the front door, slapping a wooden spoon against his thigh impatiently. Waiting for the unfortunate little boy to show his face around the corner. Murdoc swallows hard, as the fear wells up in him and a tight feeling seems to wrap itself around his throat like an invisible hand threatening to choke the very life from his poor tortured body. Sometimes he found himself wishing it just would.
"Yer a filthy little bastard. What are ya?" Jacob snarls as Murdoc slowly peeks around the corner and slowly moves forwards. Stepping cautiously up onto the stoop to face his angry father. The little boy looks up at him for a moment, but the cruel face seems to burrow deep into his mind and make his head ache. So instead he looks back down at his feet and shuffles a little from side to side. Hoping that maybe this time, the spoon is just a threat.
"I'm a filthy little bastard." Murdoc mumbles back to the old man. Jacob looks down at the boys wet clothes and growls deeply. Murdoc looks quickly up at him, then back down to his feet. The fear he has of his Father, making him tremble slightly as a cold sensation makes it way through him and into the ground. The old man shakes his head and points the way inside with the spoon. Murdoc moves forwards and slides past the old man quickly, hoping to put enough distance between him and the dreaded spoon. But he isn't quick enough. As Jacob brings the spoon down, slapping him hard on the leg with a quick back-swing, making the boy reach back protectively and press himself against the wall by the stairs. He watches Jacobs reaction hoping for a clue as to whether that was all he'd receive this morning, as the old man steps inside and slams the door shut. Once again locking the boy in his tortured prison, away from the prying eyes of the world.
"Yer wet! Don't tell me ya pissed yerself again?" Jacob snaps, as he heads back to the kitchen. Murdoc looks up at him as the old man gets closer, rubbing the back of his leg. He's about to answer him, when Jacob reaches over and shoves the boy hard in the chest, slamming him up against the wall. He stumbles and falls to the floor, rubbing the back of his head. Just then Hannibal slides down the banister and drops down next to him. He stops and stares down at Murdoc who is trying to stand up. Looking carefully into the kitchen, to be sure the old man isn't watching. Hannibal steps forwards deliberately, directly onto Murdoc s hand, pressing down on it as much as he can. Wanting to hurt his little brother. The young boy calls out in pain and tries to pull away. Yanking on his arm and trying desperately to free his trapped hand. Hannibal smiles evilly and leans down pulling back his fist, ready to punch the now defenceless little boy. Murdoc looks up and raises his arm in defense, looking appealingly at his older brother.
"Leave the boy alone and git in here!" Jacob snaps at Hannibal from the table in the kitchen. The older boy stops and looks up. Sighing he instead slaps Murdoc aside, then smiles and marches confidently into the kitchen. The young boy slowly gets to his feet and hears Hannibal yelp, as Jacob slaps him in the ear. With a secretive smile, Murdoc turns his shining eyes towards the doorway, rubbing his now aching hand and walks quietly into the kitchen.
Jacob is sitting at the head of the table, eating a hearty meal of bacon, eggs and toast. Murdoc hungrily licks his lips as his stomach growls at the sight and smell of food. The young boy hasn't eaten for two days. Punishment for what the old man considered a terrible performance. He watches as Jacob shovels another forkful into his mouth and practically drools at the sight, then looks over at Hannibal sitting quietly in the corner, munching on a piece of toast and occasionally reaching up to rub his aching ear. Not thinking. Murdoc walks over to the fridge and pulls open the door. Suddenly a book flies across the room, skimming past Murdoc s head and slamming into the sink. Murdoc snaps his head around in panic and finds Jacob standing, glaring angrily at the young boy. Hannibal grins like a cat from the corner and pops the last piece of toast into his mouth.
"What the fuck do ya think yer doin'?" Jacobs snarls, curling his lips back over his jagged yellow stained teeth. Murdoc stares at him hard for a moment, thinking quickly. His eyes dart from the old man down to the table and back again. He swallows the knot of panic that has risen sharply in his throat and gives the old man a quick fleeting smile, hoping to somehow disarm the old man and get out of yet another beating.
"Gettin' you another beer. It looked like you'd finished that one. I. I thought I'd save ya the trip. Sorry." He answers him weakly, hoping the small lie would be enough. Jacob quickly looks down at the bottle on the table and picks it up. Sure enough it is practically empty, the old man looks back up at Murdoc standing there at the fridge and shrugs. He tosses back the last of the liquid and sits down, sliding the now empty bottle away from him across the table. Hannibal has stopped smiling and is now glaring at the young boy, angry because he can see straight through the little boys white lie and is annoyed that Jacob hasn't.
"Humpf! First bright idea you've ever had." Jacob grumbles, then looking sharply over at Hannibal sitting in the corner, reaches out and slaps him across the back of the head. "Why can't you be as smart?" Hannibal pulls away, raising his arm defensively as though expecting the old man to stand up and beat him again. Murdoc walks up to his dad with a fresh beer, putting it down on the table in front of his Father. And is quite surprised when Jacob invites him to sit close. The young boy smiles and joins his Dad at the table. Jacob rubs the little boys head almost affectionately and hands him a slice of his toast. "Here. Eat that." Jacob smiles, as Murdoc hungrily gobbles down the bread. Wrapping his arm around the boy, Jacob almost seems to be hugging him. Grateful for the momentary affection, Murdoc snuggles down in the protective crook of his dads arm. Hannibal glares at the young boy jealously from his corner, his eyes glinting as if on fire. Murdoc sees him and presses himself closer to his dad. For the moment, the old man is pleased. But the little boy knows it never lasts long. So for now, he'll take whatever Jacob has on offer. If anything it may just be enough to get him out of a beating from Hannibal.
Breakfast over, Jacob walks with Murdoc to the front door. He opens the door and gently ushers the little boy out and walks down the stoop to the gate. Murdoc sticks close to the old man as Hannibal shuts the door behind them and locks it. Murdoc quickly walks ahead of his dad and out onto the path, moving a little up away from the direction he knows Hannibal has to go. The old man joins him and they both walk down to the corner to wait for the bus that will take the both of them to the funeral parlor where the old man works. Leaving Hannibal to walk in the opposite direction to go to school. The little boy relaxes and walks quietly alongside his father.
"Guess next year, you'll be goin' with yer brother hey?" Jacob smiles down at Murdoc. The little boy gulps as it dawns on him how right that was. He shakes the thought from his head and steps forwards, looking for the bus. Jacob light another cigarette and sits down on the seat. The old man leans over and brushes a spot of dust from his leg, then looks up at Murdoc who is jumping in and out of the gutter. "Stop bein' daft and come here." Jacob growls at the little boy. Murdoc looks quickly up into the old mans face and begins to see the familiar scowl growing again. He moves quickly back over to his dad, hoping it will disappear again and today, will be a good day. He stands next to him and waits to see if Jacob shoves him away. For Murdoc, it would be a sure sign as to whether his dads good mood has truly vanished. Jacob sits back and puffs away at his cigarette, leaving the boy alone for now. Murdoc breathes a sigh of relief and stands quietly beside him. Happy that for now, everything is fine.
The bus arrives and Jacob and Murdoc walk over to it. The young boy steps inside and quickly grabs two vacant seats by the door. The old man sits next to him and they both wait as the other passengers make their way onto the bus. Murdoc stares out the window at the passers by. A young girl holding her mothers hand passes and looks back at him. He smiles at her and waves, trying to be friendly. But the little girl makes a face, poking out her tongue. Murdoc s happy mood slumps and he turns back to the front sadly and waits for the journey to begin. The bus loaded, it pulls away from the curb and heads off down the road. Murdoc once again looks out his window, watching the buildings slide by. The young boy mentally crosses off the familiar landmarks in his mind. Occasionally he looks around the bus at the different people whenever it stops to take on passengers, but for the most part he remains staring out the window.
Finally they reach Jacobs stop and they both get up and stand by the door. It opens and Murdoc jumps out and waits for his dad. Jacob smiles at the driver and steps down, joining his son on the path, before they both head off in the direction of the parlor. Murdoc reaches the door first and pulls it open, holding it for his dad. The old man walks through and drops his hand on the little boys shoulder. Murdoc looks up smiling at his dad, but this time Jacob doesn't smile back. They head into the back room and Murdoc walks over to his little corner. He flops down and watches as his dad sets to work. The day is long and Murdoc quickly becomes bored, usual for him. He looks about whenever the Boss isn't around and walks over to his dad, who at the time is assembling a coffin. He hands him the things Jacob asks for, keeping an eye out for the Boss and quickly moving back to his little corner whenever he sees him, so his dad won't get into trouble. Having watched the old man many times, Murdoc at his young age could build a simple coffin with his eyes closed. Even Jacob himself said so once, which delighted Murdoc almost making the little boy cry with happiness. Impressing his dad, was something the little boy deeply wished to do. But Jacob set the bar so high, that it was an event that very rarely happened. Still, it didn't stop the little boy trying.
Lunch time arrives and Murdoc fetches Jacobs coat. Now it was time for Murdoc to go to work. Jacob and the young boy walk down to the pub on the corner, one of several of the old mans favorite watering holes. He takes a seat at the bar and Murdoc steps forwards, clearing his throat. The punters look up from their drinks and smile, seeing Murdoc there at lunch time was a familiar sight and they all knew the little boys routine. Murdoc begins to sing and occasionally a coin is tossed at his feet. Booze money for his dad. At the end of each song, the little boy gathers up the money and thanks everyone, then takes it over to his dad, before returning to his spot and starting the next song. Sometimes one of the non-regulars complain at the old man, saying that such a little boy shouldn't be made to do such a thing. But most of the regulars argue the person down, saying that Murdoc seems to enjoy it and to leave the boy alone. Murdoc doesn't enjoy it though, except on days like today. It doesn't seem so bad when Jacob is happy, he tends to let a few small errors slide. When Jacob is angry, every tiny mistake is met with a savage beating when they get home again. Jacob looks down at his watch and whistles at Murdoc, the little boy looks back at the old man over his shoulder and nods. He finishes the song and bows to the audience who stand and applaud the little boy loudly. Murdoc smiles back and picks up the money at his feet. He walks with his dad to the door, looking back and waving goodbye as he walks out. He looks up at his dad, waiting to see if he'd done a good job. But Jacob stares firmly ahead as they make their way back to the parlor. A knot of panic swells in the little boys stomach. But Jacob opens the door of the parlor and smiles down at Murdoc as he walks through. He breathes out a sigh of relief. Yes. Today was a good day.
The day over, Jacob and Murdoc head back to the bus stop. Jacob is now talking to Murdoc, who hangs on every word. The old man hardly ever actually talks to the little boy, except to insult him or yell at him, so the little boy savors every good moment as though it's the last. Especially when it comes to money and finance. Jacob and he head to the next pub and walk inside. Once again, Jacob sits by the bar and Murdoc steps forwards. He clears his throat and is about to start, when the old man interrupts him with a small announcement.
"He's got a new song now." The old man says, as the barman slides a beer down the bar to him. The punters give the young boy a small spattering of applause and wait. Murdoc tenses nervously, but shakes it off and slowly begins. He sings the song all the way through to the end and smiles as the punters applaud, some throwing money and others coming over and patting the little boy on the back, praising him. He looks back at his dad and is surprised to see the familiar scowl is firmly back on his face. Murdoc made a mistake. The little boy blanches and starts thinking through the song quickly, trying to work out what he did wrong. But the show must go on, he clears his throat and goes through his list of songs. The happiness now gone, replaced with fear. He knows when he gets home he's going to be beaten. He wishes that time would stand still. But before he knows it, it's time to go home. He finishes the song and picks up his money, bowing to the audience before joining his dad at the door, he waves goodbye and follows the old man back to the bus stop. Jacob silently stares ahead his arms folded firmly over his chest. Murdoc moves close, but is roughly shoved aside confirming the young boys fear. He made a mistake.
The bus arrives at their stop and the two disembark. Jacob quickly makes his way back to the house, Murdoc slowly bringing up the rear and not really wanting to walk through the front door. Jacob slams open the front door and stands there waiting for the terrified little boy. Murdoc steps shakily onto the stoop and looks up at the old man pleadingly. Jacob grabs him by the arm and yanks him inside. The beating starts. He throws the little boy against the wall, nearly knocking him unconscious. Murdoc s head reals and he can taste blood in his mouth, suddenly his dad is standing over him. He slaps him hard across the face, knocking him back to the floor. Murdoc struggles to move away, but the old man grabs him by the hair and drags him physically up the stairs to his room. Screaming abuse at him and accusing him of making him look like a fool in front of all of his friends. He reaches Murdoc s bedroom door and tosses him inside, the little boy hits the floor and slides almost the length of the room with the momentum. Jacob steps in and slams the door shut. The defenceless boy screams can be heard, as the old man beats the tiny boy into unconsciousness.
The next morning Murdoc s door opens and the little boy steps through. His head bowed low in defeat, sadness and pain. He looks over at the bathroom door and finds it's open. Slowly walking in, Murdoc turns and shuts the door locking it behind him. He goes to the toilet and then makes his way over to the sink, taking the small stool next to it and sliding it into place. The little boy climbs up and takes a deep breath before looking at his reflection. His face is covered by a large bruise. One eye, nearly punched shut. Murdoc chokes back the tears and lifts up his shirt. His chest and side are covered in dark purple and green bruises. Some of which clearly are in the shape of Jacobs fist. Murdoc drops the shirt again and is suddenly overtaken by the need to vomit. Coughing and spitting, he looks down at it in the sink. He can see theres blood in it, but knows there is no point telling his father. Jacob, just doesn't care. He washes the sink and rinses out his mouth, then steps down and drags the chair back to the wall. Taking off his pants, the little boy draws himself a warm bath, then slides in and lays back. The warm water seeming to melt away the pain in his body. Tears well in the little boys eyes and he ducks his head under the water, vowing never to come out again. As far as Murdoc is concerned. Death is a far better option, than to be forced to live a life like this.