Murdoc studied his reflection in the small mirror that hung over the dirty sink in his bathroom. He wiped the dust and grime from the glass so he could see himself clearer. His skin was beginning to look ash in colour, he never quite understood how this worked; naturally his skin was a grayish white, but when he would stay out in the sunlight it would go a sickly green causing him to look a hell of a lot like his father. He glanced down at the small black plastic container sitting on the edge of the sink; it was his eye contacts container. He looked back to his reflection; both eyes were an odd shade of red. People whispered and assumed his eyes were naturally brown or even hazel and that his one eye was red due to some Satanic witch craft. He smiled sadly as he thought about that rumor, he had partially started it. The reality of it was that he had two red eyes and a nearly cadaver like skin tone. Sometimes he wore two brown coloured eye contacts, other days he only wore one. For some reason nobody questioned it, though he could tell it bothered people to no end. How much he hated this face, how much he hated his aging body, and the memories swirling around inside of his sickened mind. He turned away from the mirror feeling beyond disgusted by what he had been looking at; he turned off the light and left the room. He grabbed a half empty bottle of vodka from the counter top and took it back to his bed. He kicked his boots off onto the floor then sat down on his bed with his back pressed against the wall. His home away from home was small, but he enjoyed it. He had grown up in a horribly small home; mostly he would stay in his bedroom, generally hiding. He sort of did that here; there wasn't anybody to hide from, these were his friends, but he didn't need any friends. Most times he knew they didn't like him and to some degree he always knew they didn't really need him in their band, he was disposable.

In the corner of his bedroom Cortez squawked from his perch, Murdoc took a drink from the bottle then looked up at the bird. Its dark empty eyes stared back at him, the bird tilted its head to the side as it continued studying its master. Some days he felt like that bird knew him, knew every secret, even the ones Murdoc hid from himself.

"Life is Hell isn't it?" He asked the bird.

The bird began biting at its left wing removing the dead feathers that annoyed it.

Or maybe he was just insane; it was only a bird after all. The funny thing was that he knew better than that; when he had been left at his father's there had been a dirty black bird watching over him, Murdoc could swear that this was the same bird from all of those years ago. Maybe it was some spiritual gift from Hell; a greeting from Satan himself to tell the world; this boy is fucked up, he has nowhere to go except for down.

That seemed to sum everything up.

He took one last drink from the bottle before throwing it to the ground. He leaned over grabbing up a stack of letters from his night stand. Letters from people wanting to sue him, some more letters from angry women claiming that 2D had gotten them pregnant. Murdoc sighed; he was really sick of getting those letters in the posts; he had told the idiot a million times before to use a condom or to be sure the women were on some sort of a birth control.

Murdoc got up from the bed, he collected all eight letters addressed to 2D, then made his way to the singer's room. He had hoped to stay in his Winnebago and drink all day, think over his own life and his own problems, but now he had to handle this. He loved the little idiot, but half the time he truly did feel like strangling him, 2D worshiped him…Well not as much since Demon Days was recorded, but he still should have learned something from Murdoc; especially the lesson of always use a condom.

By the time he reached 2D's bedroom door he was seething with rage. He didn't even bother with knocking, he never did. He slammed open the door, 2D was on his bed writing in one of his stupid journals. He jumped at the sound of the door bashing against his bedroom wall, his blackened eyes widened when he noticed how enraged Murdoc was. He quickly scrambled to his feet and ran to the other side of the bed; he raised his hands up in front of himself in defense.

"I got letters for yew." Murdoc said angrily, he threw the letters at the singer.

2D looked from Murdoc to the mail scattered on his bed, when he knew it was safe he quickly snatched up a couple of the letters. He looked over them then looked up at Murdoc looking utterly confused.

"Wot are these, I keep getting 'em?"

Murdoc balled his hands into fists at his sides, his nails dug into his skin. He tried counting down from ten over and over in his mind to calm himself, but it didn't work.

"Those are from the mothers of t'e women yew keep on knocking up, yew pathetic little moron!"

2D flinched back, Murdoc went over to him. He grabbed a fistful of 2D's hair and jerked hard causing the younger man to cry out in pain.

"Ow t'at really 'urts, Mudz."

"Good, now I don't know if all these brats belong to yew, but I'm sure at least 'alf of 'em do. I got some advice for yew Stuey; stop shagging every bird ya see or start usin' a condom."

"Bu-but I don' like usin' 'em, they feel funny."

"Well then maybe I should rip yer prick off and shove it up yer arse." He growled angrily.

"Please don't, I-I promise I…I'll sto-stop shagging birds."

Murdoc released his grip on the blue haired man; 2D ran to the other side of the room.

"Good, I don't get why they all wanna get with a moron like yew anyways."

2D looked down at the floor and shrugged. The singer walked up to Murdoc until he was uncomfortably close, he tilted his head to the side as he examined the older man's face. The bassist pulled back feeling uncomfortable and annoyed.

"Wot in Hell are yew doing?"

"Why are both yer eyes red an' yew look real pale."

Murdoc punched him hard in the face; 2D fell back onto the floor. One thing that annoyed him so much about the singer was that when he hit him 2D never looked angry, he looked frightened and apologetic.

"It isn't any of yer business."

He turned and left the room.

He knew he over reacted, it wasn't like 2D was insulting him. He was just pointing out something that was really hard to miss, but it was a natural reaction. It wasn't like he wanted to apologize for what he had just done or what had been said, he didn't give a damn about it. 2D was brainless, he would forget within a minute or so. Besides Murdoc had more to worry about than some idiot's feelings being hurt.

Ever since he received the letter announcing Rosemarie's death he had been going between depressed and angry. He had never seen the woman; he didn't know if he had her eyes or her hair, maybe her smile…That was if he ever smiled, he felt she never smiled either. He had grown up never knowing his mother's face, never knowing he even had a sister. He had always figured he looked exactly like his father that had been bad enough. There were few good sides to finding out about the truth; at least he had found out his red eyes and ash skin were due to a type of albinism that caused a lacking of pigments in his eyes and skin. He couldn't understand for the world why his hair turned out black though, but then again he didn't want to question it. He didn't want to ask questions because he refused to hear the answers. No wonder Hell loved him; he was everything they wished for down there, they prayed for a person like Murdoc. Somebody who would be thrown out of society, even denied by his own blood relatives because of his very existence; demons know if somebody will come to them, come for revenge. If it hadn't been for his desperation he never would have made the deal, never would have become famous….Yet he was still so empty, so sad.