2D's eyes gently flickered open, his pale lids opening to reveal his empty, lifelessly hollow black dents. It hurt, really badly, even to do something as simple as opening his drained, onyx eyes, which exposed to him just the state of discomfort and misfortune he was currently in. Now, though our beloved blue-haired singer was defiantly not thesharpest tool in the shed, he was certainly more than capable of figuring out that he was most likely in some pretty deep shit. 'Fuck …' he frowned, feeling as though his entire body was being compressed much, much too tightly.

He blinked numerous times, the pain in his comatose eyes somewhat subsiding. He noticed that … wherever he was at the moment, it was dark. Really, really dark. Pitch black, from what he could presently see. And cramped. He remained as still as he possibly could, in fear that in one sudden movement, something utterly dreadful would happen to him. He took this time to recover slightly and take into consideration the situation at hand, and the condition of his personal and well being. The air in the box (he quickly assumed he was in a box …) was thick and oppressive, and he breathed in short, shallow pants. Blatantly ignoring the conscience in his dulled mind to remain as unmoved as physically possible, he leisurely turned his head to the side, which was surprisingly more difficult - and painful - than he first thought it would be. A sharp ache struck the sides of his neck and all down his awkwardly curved spine, causing the singer to let our a small whimper. How long had he been in this position?

Now suddenly feeling incredibly ill at ease in this new and unfamiliar posture, with his head still tilted ineptly to the side, and his scrawny legs bent every which way, 2D bit his bottom lip and turned to the other side, hoping for an opposite result. Again, the same sharp pain ran through his neck and back. He winced, and the top of his head hit the top of the blockade that was compressing his confined body in this discomfited position. In doing so, the brim of his cap fell onto his face. 'Shit.' He grunted, and slowly, painfully, eased his hand, which had been wriggled behind his back, to his face to put his hat back into the correct place. 'Fergot I wos even wearin' a hat.'

Having freed his hand, he brushed some stray pieces of azure hair out of his weary face and eyes. Something was making his head hurt. Not that that wasn't odd. But 2D had a strange feeling that, aside from his already pounding migraine, something else was causing his head to throb. 'Huh … did I hit me head or summingk?' he pondered naively to himself.

Little by little, without causing too much pain to his aching arms, 2D blindly felt around the sides of the box that was entrapping him. The space inside the box was incredibly restricted, and 2D found moving around to be both a physical hazard and simply a waste of what little energy he had left.

He let his arm fall down next to him again and allowed the moments to pass as he frantically tried to gather his thoughts, though most of it was all just a blur. Trying to recall what had happened up until then only added to the pains and throbs to his head, worsening by the second. All he remembered thus far was talking with Murdoc over the phone. He found himself growing exceedingly unnerved and he started to sweat.

Suddenly, as if his senses were unexpectedly heightened all at once, the evident scent of bitter seawater crept up on the youth. He grimaced and turned his head to the side again, whimpering. He suddenly could hear seagulls shrieking in the far distance, and waves breaking. Finally taking into realization that he was in fact somewhere, probably floating eternally in the deep depths of the dirty waters of the ocean, he let out an abrupt yelp of panic and kicked at the side of the box with the sole of his boot.

"'ay, man! Whut the Hell you doin' in there?"

Startled beyond belief at the unexpected voice, the singer silenced himself quickly and remained still, fearing for his life, and fearing the sudden, brusque stranger, who was muffled by the barriers around him. He didn't recognize the strange voice at all, to his disappointment. Not thinking, 2D threw all cautions out the window and responded the outsider, noticing that his own voice was shaky and uneven.

"Ehmm … uhh … 'e-ello?" he asked wearily, having to raise his tone slightly to make sure he was heard through the cramped box, which was becoming more and more constricted as his claustrophobia grew to new heights.

"Yo, man! Yo not s'posed ta be awake yet!" the voice barreled back, obviously a tad annoyed with the young man.

2D shuffled awkwardly in his position, trying to find any possible way to get comfortable in the confined package he was pitilessly trapped in. He now had his throbbing neck up against the bottom of the box, while his long, gangling legs were bent above him; his feet now touching the top of the box. He winced a bit, trying to get used to this new bearing. The singer was obviously unaware that on the outside, where his potential captor was bellowing about, the box he was enclosed in was shaking and shifting around violently with every little movement he made. 2D was well unaware of all the commotion we was actually causing on the exterior as he wrangled about. Suddenly, an abrupt kick shook 2D around, sending him into a fit of screams and shouts. The mysterious voice broke the air again, but this time, it was much closer. Angrier, too.

"Yo, kid, common! Shut up in there n' quit squirmin'!"

2D gave up on trying to find the most secure position, and hoped that, wherever this strange man was taking him, they would arrive there soon. He sighed a deep, vigorous sigh and rubbed the top of his head where his captor had aggressively struck him with a much too forceful kick. He kept his mouth shut tight, afraid of another assault. 'Who is dis guy?' 2D asked himself, while trying with every bone in his brittle body to ignore the awful stench of salt water and … garbage? 2D sniffled the air again, now noticing the slight scent of burning plastic and sodden atmosphere, mixing with the salt in a most disgusting manner. He grimaced, his eyebrows knitting together in a combination of frustration and repulsion.

He tried to focus on something else. Anything else. Anything that would take his mind off the horrible odors invading his precious senses, causing his greatest fears that hid in the nadir of his mind to arise to the surface. He focused on the singing seagulls that seemed to be following he and his captor; coming closer; always crying out in that exasperating tone. 'Seagulls,' Stu frowned, remembering some numerous … rather ungrateful encounters with the white-feathered bastards. 'Wot distasteful creatures …'

2D shuddered. He tried to tear his attention away from the frustrating seagulls. He listened to the waves instead. He closed his eyes and pictured them in his clouded mind. Slowly swaying, back and forth, as their gentle rhythms lulled him into nirvana. He imagined the sunlight dancing off the perfectly blue waves, showing little white, radiant speckles of light on the water. He opened his eyes, and listened a bit closer to them. They seemed slightly rougher than they had a few moments before. 2D suddenly felt a feeling of absolute terror run through his blood. His fears were finally catching up to him … He didn't know where he was. He had no idea where he was going, or what was going to happen to him.

He had to say something.

"Ehh … 'ello? Is … anybody there?" the daft singer asked aloud, wondering if his captor was in earshot.

"Whut, kid?"

2D's mind became foggier for a moment, wavering. This was an incredibly unrecognizable voice, and it scared 2D. It belonged to a complete stranger. Now, 2D hadn't exactly thought about it earlier, but, he was being kidnapped by someone who he didn't even know! Why in the Hell was the singer even trying to simply converse to this guy? Whoever he was …

"Erhmm …" 2D stuttered, letting the unsure feelings that boiled inside his body fly, "Who … are you?" He asked, pondering if he sounded as stupid as he thought he did. He was surprised to hear a mild chuckle arouse from the other side of the barriers that were imprisoning him.

"The name's Sun Moon Stars."

2D smiled feebly. 'at's a lovely name …' he bit his bottom lip tentatively again, suddenly wanting to get to know his captor just a bit better. He studied his captor's profound voice. It was very deep, and somewhat musical. Musical in a … weird way. A way that only the blue-locked singer could figure out. He rested his large hands flat on his stomach and let his head fall back against the bottom of the box, sighing deeply in a mixture of provisional tranquility and ennui.

"So … err … Sun Moon Stars …" the singer initiated, leaving his lips parted slightly after echoing his kidnapper's name, making sure he spoke in a slow, steady pace, "… where umm … exactly are you takin' me?" 2D asked, a sort of melancholy tone setting in. The fear was getting to him once again, making his upper body quiver in sudden terror. Why on Earth was he trying to get answers from this guy in the first place? He wouldn't tell him anything … and he knew that.

Wincing, 2D guessed that the sun was directly overtop of the boat the two were on, because a wave of heat seared through his frail form and seeped into his pale skin, causing him to wriggle around in maximum discomfort. Tiny beads of perspiration ran down his glistening face. He shifted into another position in the crate, now desperate to find contentment by any means necessary.

Waiting for Sun Moon Stars to reply, 2D ran his tired hands across the walls of the box that trapped him, digging his fingernails in the thin crack in the middle that allowed a sliver of sunlight to bleed through, giving Stuart his only source of light. "Hmm. This isn't a box then, issit? More like a … crate fingy." He placed his hands on the top of the box, now able to physically feel the immense heat that begged to get inside the crate. It burned, even to Stuart's gentle touch. His hand recoiled in pain, and he let out a small yelp.

Aggravated now, 2D scowled in annoyance with the strange man, who had yet to answer his question, and kicked at the top of the crate much more forcefully than he expected. Despite the burning contact between the top of the barrier and the keyboardist's hands, he pushed vehemently against it, putting as much pressure on it as he possibly could, regardless of his aching muscles. "I said, where the HELL are you takin' me?" he screamed, pleading for an immediate answer.

But the poised kidnapper only laughed again in response to the boy's incensed question, "Wish I could tell ya, kid. But then I'd be goin' against strict orders."

Hearing this, 2D paused in mid-kick, the wheels in his head beginning to slowly turn. 'Wot? So dis bloke's workin' for somebody else?' He straightened himself out, being ever-so carful not to let any bare skin come in contact with the top of the crate. 2D was about to rejoinder, but he was cut off by Sun Moon Stars.

"Look. I'm really not s'posed at be talkin' to ya, man. Jus' sit in there an' keep quiet!"

"But -"

"Listen! I'm already gonna get paid less for not bein' able to knock you out long enough. I can't tell you anything, so stop askin' stupid questions. Jus' keep yo damn mouf shut and lemmie do mah job. We'll … be there soon."

At the suddenly shielding remark from his angry captor, 2D drew back and put an end to his little kicking tirade inside the tiny crate with a childish, routed pout. He took a long, profound breath and exhaled raucously, trying with all the capacity he had left to remain calm and composed. The singer found a more comfortable position; he now laid on his side and held his throbbing head in his hands, with his gawky legs folded and brought as close to his chin as possible. He considered taking the valuable time to at least try and recover his thoughts of the recent events, but he knew that thinking too much would only add to his spiteful migraine. 'Meh. F'only I had me pills wif me … maybe den I'd be able ta at least fink straight …'

Outside, 2D heard the loud crashes of waves spattering up against the boat. They were getting rougher ...

Suddenly, Sun Moon Stars took a quick, sharp turn to the right, tossing the forlorn keyboardist around aggressively. 2D yelped in agony as his already compressed arms and legs were twisted in even more uncomfortable positions, and whined as his face connected with the top of the burning hot surface, which was his only blockade from the boiling temperatures that solicited for access. With every brusque turn and abrupt stride his captor made, 2D was thrown in a different spot in the box, which was also being thrown around the rocking boat, bruising his milky white skin in the process.

The last thing the singer wanted was to be suddenly lobbed off the boat as it continued spiraling in rapid directions. He tried to keep himself still as best he could, but nothing could stop him as he and the crate tumbled every which way, his head pounding and throbbing with each unforgiving hit it took.

In the midst of all the commotion, 2D was just able to make out the deafening sounds of bullets flying overhead. As if on instinct, he flailed his skinny arms across his face, dreading any impulsive blows or unexpected triggers, while ignoring the sting of the burning box's façades.

This went on for several minutes; 2D relentlessly tossed and turned in his box, trying to steer clear of the raging bullets as they practically skimmed the crate, all the while screaming as loud as his vocals would allow.

Then, as quickly as they had arrived, the shots subsided and the boat stopped in its tracks above the wild torrents. Then it began to sail along again, like it had been before the random shooting; as if nothing had even happened.

Inside the box, which was now covered in black scuff marks and multiple dents and scratches, Stuart clenched at his heart as it hammered at his chest beneath his clothes. His breath escaped his lips in short, brisk pants. He knitted his brows and called out for his captor, half wondering if he had been at all injured.

"Wot … WOT THE HELL WOS ALL THA' ABOUT?"

Sun Moon Stars let out a short grunt and sighed in frustration. "Sorry 'bout dat, kid. Damn pirates were shootin' at us again."

2D scoffed. 'Pirates? We wos bein' chased by a buncha bloody PIRATES!'

His heart still briskly pumping from the panic, the singer released his firm grip from his t-shirt and used his free hand to wipe his forehead, as he felt more drops of perspiration run down from beneath his cap. He fidgeted around a moment before dropping his arm back into it's place beside his trembling body. 'Dis is ridiculous ...'

Just then, 2D felt the boat take yet another sharp turn, once again sending both the crate and the dilapidated youth sliding across the deck. He winced when the side of the box hit the wall of the ship. Hard.

"Oi, man! Wot gives?" 2D hollered, his eyes shut tight from the pain. He was rubbing his aching shoulder where it had abruptly met with the wall.

"Sorry," Sun Moon Stars replied, "but we're here."

Not knowing what to make of that, the keyboardist's hollow dents shot open wide in a concoction of confusion, tension, and pure terror. He stayed still, while all the forbidding possibilities of what could probably happen to him floated around fluently in his decrepit head, which was aching even more so now. Oh, how he yearned for his precious medication … He brought a shivering, sweaty hand up and ran it slowly down his face as anxiety suddenly set in. As he inhaled deeply, trying to remain on the edge, the smell of salty seawater took over his senses again, making Stu-Pot quake in repugnance. He took another whiff of the corrosive air, as he was a bit curious, and noticed right away that the scent of fervent plastic was stronger. Much, much stronger.

'Where … am I?'

For a moment, nothing happened. But the troubled singer didn't dare to make a move.

Then, the gruff sound of footsteps were heard, and they were carefully edging adjacent to the petrified bluenette, still entrapped in the battered box. And with every 'click' and 'clack' of his captor's heeled boots, 2D's fear grew to an enormous peak. He whimpered.

There was a small, vain kick that came from the side of the crate, and suddenly, 2D shrieked as he felt himself being lifted off the floor of the boat with ease, bobbing up and down in the crate in time with his kidnapper's quick, fleet strides.

All that was running through poor Stu's head was, 'Don't drop me. Don't drop me. Please. Don't. Drop. Me.'

2D let out a excruciating yelp when he was not dropped, but thrown onto the ground, landing right on his bum.

"Ouch!"

Now released from Sun Moon Star's fixed grasp, the dented vocalist remained contorted in an inelegantly new position, with his arms and legs, once again, crooked and twisted in discomfited pain. His head persistently throbbed and ached for medication, and 2D felt inept as he let his eyelids slowly close gently, eventually letting the pain set in. His lips were parted slightly, his breath leaving in hasty gasps and small, unheard whimpers.

The overshadowing reek of burning, rotting, saturated synthetic scrap and rubbish completely devoured the crate and its contents. It leached through the little cracks on the sides, making 2D gag in immediate disgust. The fact that the undesirable smell had mixed with the seawater did not make the keyboardist feel any less uncomfortable.

As 2D wriggled around in his barred enclosure, he heard something faint coming from the outside. Carefully, and ever-so slowly, he placed his ear on the side of the box to try and decipher the sudden noise. It wasn't those seagulls … Stuart was sure of that …

... He heard voices.

One of them he recognized as Sun Moon Stars'. That profound, melodic voice he remembered almost instantaneously. The man seemed just a tad goaded, but 2D quickly guessed that that was probably due to the haphazard pirate shoot-out they had both endured only a few moments before. 2D shuddered at the appalling thought, then pressed his ear harder against the box, wanting to hear what was going on in the outside world, where he was craving to be. The voices were slightly muffled, but he was just able to make out what was being said …

" … he's still in 'are, boss … " Sun Moon Stars began, "But 'e woke up, an' he's a lil' freaked out, but … I think he's gonna be okay."

2D shivered a little, a ripple of distress draining his face of color; he could feel it. He did not like being talked about like this, being used as an object of conversation between two sinister kidnappers, who were most likely insane serial killers, or something of the sort. 2D's mind swam with distraught notions and possibilities of what was going to happen to him, and whether he was going to end up surviving …

Not wanting to lose his focus, Stuart shook his head fiercely and drew his attention back to the discussion. There was somebody else talking now …

" … Oh, lovely … yeah … good job, mate. Good job …"

Dazed, 2D withdrew his touch to the crate and tried to interpret what was going on. His blood ran ice cold, sending frisson down his disheveled spine. His jaw hung open wide in pure disbelief, and he let a minute cry of panic escape his trembling lips. His body started quaking uncontrollably, though the singer barely noticed.

That voice …

2D blinked in skepticism and narrowed his eyes. 'No … No, it can't be …'

As diluted tears welled up all too summarily in the corners of Stuart's hollow, onyx dents, he struggled to withhold a cry and let out a stifled whine instead. He tried to see what was going on through the cracks in side of the box, but he could see nothing more than a slim, slender sliver of sunlight as it trickled inside. If viable, the singer moved even closer to the edge of the crate's barrio, now craving to hear more …

"I knew I could count on ya, Sun Moon Stars. Erm … did yeh run into any trouble on the way here?"

'Oh, god … no. No, it … it can't be him!'

Sun Moon Stars mumbled something incomprehensible and grumbled. "Uhh … well …" he paused a moment, "… we ran inta those goddamned pirates again." His words came out a bit bluntly, which made the singer's stomach churn uneasily at the remembrance of the arbitrary bombardment of bullets soaring just overhead …

His tear ducts bursting suddenly, 2D blinked once more and felt an informal wetness make its way unhurriedly down his cheek, trickling along his face and stopping at his chin. A small drop of the saltwater fell from his jaw and landed on his arm. He made no noise; no cries, no whimpers, nothing. He remained absolutely silent as he listened to his captors speak.

The other man coughed vehemently, jolting the singer back to actuality. It was an obvious smoker's cough. 2D shivered, biting his lip in wariness. The azure haired youth was clearly an active smoker himself (hell, he smoked at least a few packs a day), but he had never really hacked like that. Smoker's coughs never really bothered him, even though he was such a severe smoker. But there was something so terribly, ominously familiar about the way that man talked and … coughed. Something in that voice that nearly brought 2D over the edge. It made him feel like breaking down. It made him want to cry; even more so than he was now.

Swallowing his angst, 2D emitted a heavy sigh as thoughts of cigarettes (which he had been longing awfully for, since he had been hours without one) and a very sadistic bassist gradually made their way into his head.

The coughing ceased, and the man's composure seemed to be renewed. He continued the conversation with a low growl.

"Ah. I see. Well … wot 'appened, then?"

Not wanting be believe his maddening inner voices as they screamed out the name of the bloke, 2D's heart jumped in his chest and a sizeable lump grew in his throat.

"They shot at us," Sun Moon Stars replied, chuckling a little, "which scared the fuck outta the little cracker over there." 2D sneered and predicted that Sun Moon Stars was most likely gesturing in his direction.

The other man didn't laugh, though.

"They shot at you, ay? Scumbags. Wot'd ya do?"

"Not much, really. We lost 'em to tha fog."

"Good, good. And uhh … nothing was … damaged, correct?" the man implored, and Stuart quickly noticed the change in his tone of voice. It was more serious, and the keyboardist wondered if he was really referring to him …

"No, sir. Everything's fine. 'e didn't get hurt or nuthin'."

The air seemed to be lifted tenfold, and both men chuckled a bit this time. But 2D saw absolutely nothing humorous about being kidnapped, shot at and practically killed by pirates, and dragged to … wherever Sun Moon Stars had dragged him …

"Well, 'at's great, mate! Ay, listen, yeh? Thanks fer bringin' 'im 'ere fer me."

"Not a problem, boss."

The other man coughed some more, yet this time a bit less violently, and cleared his raspy throat with ease. "Yes well, 'ere's yer pay then, mate."

Again, a slight pause, and 2D figured that there was probably some money being exchanged and placed into Sun Moon Stars' grasp before the bloke spoke again, sounding harsher and more forceful. "Now ehh, you may return to yer former post at tha pier."

2D remained somewhat composed, or something relatively close to that, with being in such a dreadful condition and all … He waited patiently, eagerly, even, for any reply from Sun Moon Stars or another imposing remark from the other man. The broken, ingenuous youth waited more than just a few seconds for something, anything to be said between the two, but nothing was breaking the stagnant air, which was slowly beginning to suffocate 2D as his fears continued to increase.

To be honest, 2D really didn't want to think too hard about this other bloke, especially since he was almost positive he knew who it was … he didn't want to believe it … and it scared him shitless to even consider the consequences of suddenly speaking up.

All poor Stuart could hear was the calling gulls, the rhythmic waves … and now, gentle marine breezes - the kind that could only be heard near a body of seawater …

… and then, the 'click' and 'clack' of healed boots could be heard again, at first sounding nearly silent. And 2D was fully aware that it wasn't Sun Moon Stars who was creeping up to him, steadily, and very slowly.

2D knew all too well the sounds Cuban Heels made, and his heart got caught in his throat when he recalled knowing of only one bloke who wore Cuban Heeled boots …

'No! No, no, no! It can' be him! I won't believe it!'

He wanted to cry. He wanted to bawl, actually. He wanted the lump in his gullet to stop growing, he wanted his migraine that throbbed at his head to stop its incessancy, and he wanted a smoke even more. He knew that at any moment, he would end up losing his sanity. And as another silent tear rolled down his flushed cheek, tracing the previous trail, 2D let go and allowed the atrocious voices in his head to freely shout out the name of his captor, who was gently walking closer, closer, closer …

The Cuban Heels grew louder in sound, their 'clicks' and 'clacks' racking at 2D skull and making his mentality swim in apprehension. He was once again growing uncomfortable in the crate, because his right arm was smashed between his ribcage and the side of the barrier. He was tempted to move, but found that he couldn't. He wanted to, but his terror was immobilizing him; paralyzing him to the point where the only movements that were made came from his chest, as his short, quick breaths caused it to expand and contract.

And then the 'clicks' and 'clacks' stopped, and 2D looked up innocently, as if he could sense someone, or something, looming overtop of the box. Time seemed to stop, and 2D froze completely; his breathing ceased, his blinking subsided, his heart slowed.

And then, the silence was broken, and a gruff, throaty voice was heard …

" … Well, well, well … Wot rubbish 'as washed upon the shores of my beach today?"

2D gasped quietly to himself when a small kick to the side shook the crate. This man was so close ... and his voice was more distinct, clearer. 2D could now easily decipher the owner of that voice. There was no use trying to deny it. The way it was dragged out on the ends. The coarseness of the man's tone, the way it made tremors dance down 2D's spine and rush up into his damaged head, making his vision spin and blur. Oh, he knew that voice, alright …He missed that voice …

2D wanted to speak, so badly, but he was too stunned to let anything escape his lips.

He suddenly felt himself being lifted from the ground again. The man raised him with ease, as if he weighed nothing at all, and the change of angle tossed 2D to the right, crushing his arm even more. 2D was terrified and let out a small whimper in pain. He was breathing erratically now, his chest heaving aggressively. He was held in the air momentarily, and he was pleading with his mind for the man to have enough heart not to throw him like Sun Moon Stars had.

But then he remembered who was holding him.

2D tried to steady himself, clutching the inside of the crate with both hands as if it was going to fall apart beneath him. A moment of silence passed, and he remained hovering in the air.

2D's face was almost completely pressed against the right side of the box, and his deep-set eyes were half-lidded as he grew awkwardly accustomed to the feeling of being so insubstantial. His nose was just able to brush up against the box's smooth surface …

… and directly on the other side, the flustered singer heard a soft chuckle.

"Hmm! I wonder wot's in here then?" the man grunted, sounding rather amused with himself. He was so, so close … and the fact that there was only one thin barrier separating them, preventing them from seeing one another … preventing the vocalist from finding out who was restraining him … it made sparks course through his body.

The man chuckled again, louder, and shook the box roughly, sending 2D in a fit of petrified cries for mercy. His soft chuckles quickly turned into maniacal, sadistic cackles and howls of delight.

The man found delight in the singer's pain.

The voices in 2D's head were practically screaming now, yelling the name of the man. Through his hushed, stifled pleas for freedom, 2D tried hard to pay no heed to the voices, but they wouldn't tolerate his ignorance. They yelled louder now, deafening him. 'You know 'zactly who dis man is, you moron! Why are you tryin' so 'ard to deny it?'

2D shut his eyes asa third tear ran down his cheek, the hot liquid stinging his sweaty, crimson face.

The shaking stopped now, as did the laughter. Through painful, inconsistent breaths, 2D mustered just enough energy to allow lexis to flee his trembling lips, barely even a whisper …

" … Muh- … M-Muh … doc … "

After mere seconds of stillness, the box was lifted a bit, as if it were being adjusted to meet the height of his captor's face. Shaking, 2D splayed his palm over the side of the box. Then, cautiously, he cocked his gently to the side, ignoring the searing pains that rushed down his spine, and pressed his ear against the box as well, as if he were imploring to hear the man's voice again … He leaned in closer when he heard muffled breaths coming from the other side.

"Wot wos that?" the man asked Stu in a falsely playful tone, giggling slightly, "Yer gonna 'afta speak up a bit, mate."

2D bit his lip as he composed himself and took a deep, quaking breath, gathering what little strength he had left to speak.

"M-Muh-uhh … Muhdoc … Muhdoc …"

Suddenly, the singer was unexpectedly hurled to the ground again, this time landing on his head rather than his bum. He let out a bloodcurdling screech as his head started to throb and bruise from the callous impact. 'Oui … as if my 'ead 'asn't taken enough damage awready?' His eyes were shut tight in pain as his migraine grew in size, and he was holding his skull tightly, wishing with every fiber in his body that his captor would release him from the crate. His entire body was just aching at this point …

2D was so lost in the sweltering pain that pounded at his skull that he hadn't even noticed the crate as it shifted a bit. But when he heard clicks and snaps coming from the bottom of the box, as if something was being unlocked, his head jerked up in surprise.

Without another thought emerging into Stuart's dented cranium, he positioned himself; his back was flat against the bottom of the box, with his arms at his sides, supporting his weight. His slender legs were bent upwards, and due to the immense lack of space, his knees brushed up against his nose.

Whimpering, 2D pushed hard against the top of the box with both feet. He tapered his eyes and grit his teeth, knowing that in his sorry condition, opening the box would be a more difficult challenge then he'd hoped.

The keyboardist failed at his first attempt to free himself, and he allowed his muscles to contract and relax for a second before he started up again. His breaths were broken and hoarse, and his face was coated in sweat and it was making him feel tremendously uncomfortable, especially since there was a limited amount of air that made it through the thin cracks in the crate. His whole body felt overheated, and it was driving him insane.

'Hav ta … get out …'

Cringing, 2D collected newfound potency and positioned himself once more. While supporting himself with his elbows, which were chafing due to the friction between his sensitive skin and the crate, he exhaled profoundly and arched his back outwards a bit, giving his legs the room they needed to push on the roof of the box.

He pushed much harder this time, with adrenaline surging through his veins. His legs were quickly beginning to cramp up, and 2D let out a perturbed squeal at the unwelcome feeling. He desperately shoved the sensation to the depths of his mind, as he was starting to see more light shine through the cracks that ran through the sides of the package. The bluenette grunted, forcing all his remaining energy into one final push, just as he felt his legs start to wobble and give way.

"Nn-nnugh!"

The roof of the crate ceded, and was tossed to the side on its hinges.

When the initial gust of outside air hit his face, everything seemed to slow down all at once. In that one moment of peace and sovereignty, all 2D could see was light. Blinding light and sweltering heat. On instinct, 2D raised an arm and shielded his eyes as they began to tear up uncontrollably. It still hurt a little to move his tender limbs, but the loss of the box's restrictions made 2D sigh in relief.

Tears made their way down the singer's face, and they stung, but he was so reassured with himself that he made no move to wipe them away. He thought his eyes had surely adjusted to the sunlight, but as soon as he removed his arm from his face, more salty tears pooled in the corners of his dents and he had to blink several times to stop the flow. He was still sitting inside the crate, and 2D blindly groped the enclosure that had been confining his only seconds before, and quickly realized that it wasn't a box, and it wasn't a crate, or a package. It was a suitcase. A really small suitcase.

The vocalist glowered. 'Wot the 'ell? Wos Sun Moon Stars really dat lazy dat 'e jus' frew me inna damned suitcase?'

2D was gazing up at the sky, but since the sun was still shining brightly before him, a dazzling white, his arm was above his face, still covering his stinging eyes. Without warning, more tears pooled in his eyes blurred his vision completely. He whimpered, and had to shut his dents tightly to relieve the burning. Even with his eyes closed, tears continued to stream down his glowing face, picking up where previous trails had left off. In the midst of all his lurid terror and confusion, 2D swore he heard someone mumbling something indistinct …

Disregarding his headache that struck at his temples, 2D ferociously rubbed his eyes and let them slowly tremble open.

The singer looked up and saw a shadowy figure looming overtop him. Shaking his head, he blinked several times and fixed his eyes on the stature again with a pained, yet animated expression. The figure edged closer, and looked almost angelic; what with the sunlight enveloping it, giving it a glowing appeal.

It suddenly reached down and grabbed 2D, who emitted a startled yelp, and yanked him up by the scruff of his neck before he could give a reaction. 2D was now face-toface with his captor, and took no time in taking in his kidnapper's features and countenances.

The keyboardist's hollow dents locked with eyes of raven black and blood red, which were defined by heavy dark circles of fatigue and angst. His captor's skin was a sickly olive green, with a hint of sunburn showing on his cheeks. His captor smiled when he saw 2D gasp innocently in recognition, showing his toothy, shark-like smile, and let his elongated tongue loll from his mouth. 2D noticed that his captor reeked of rum and fags. A flicker of reminiscence sparked in 2D's mind, wavering a moment, but was soon forgotten as his captor shook him aggressively, still gripping him by his skinny little neck, and brought him nearer so that their noses were just barely touching.

2D's breath slowed. Part of him wanted to embrace the older man, but another part of him wanted to kick him and curse at him and yell at him for paying someone to stuff him in a fucking suitcase. He parted his lips slightly, eyelids drooping.

" … Muhdoc … Muds … "

A gentle chuckled escaped the older man's lips and he grinned even wider now, digging his long fingernails into the vocalist's neck, watching the blue-haired youth as he writhed and shuddered painfully in his grasp.

"Mmmmm … long time no see, ehh Stuey?"

2D wriggled in the man's clutches, which only resulted in a tightening grip on his neck. Not enough to choke him, of course. Just enough for him to feel the need to resist. The older man watched and giggled as the insensate, half-conscious bluenette let streams of barely audible whimpers of torture and he let his nails break the singer's delicate flesh.

"Muh …d-doc … please … "

"Don' struggle. You'll only make it worse fer yerself."

While 2D thrashed about in failed endeavors to free himself, the dark-haired man beamed, with his eyes wide open in enjoyment, and brought his lips down to Stuart's ear; the boy shivered when his captor's hot breaths brushed up against the side of his face.

"We've been waitn' fer you, Stuart …"

2D's hair stood on end as shivers ran down his spine. His captor's voice was so low, so sadistic, so demonic … He knew this voice. He knew this voice better than anyone. Murdoc Niccals had a voice that made 2D's blood run ice cold. It made his entire body tremble in unadulterated fright.

Murdoc brought his face back up to meet Stuart's, and he quickly noticed the youth's confused, yet relieved look. The boy was making a series of small whimpering noises and Murdoc stared at him attentively, taking in his weak-minded bandmate's horror and panic with enthusiasm. Struggling in the older man's firm grasp, 2D fixed his eyes with Murdoc's and bit his lip timidly.

"Muhdoc … ahh … uhnn … w-where are we?"

The bassist scoffed and released his unyielding grip on Stuart's neck, only to replace it with his long arm as he gracefully draped it over 2D's shoulders. 2D let out a surprised yelp, but sighed quietly in relief as the pain in his neck was mitigated.

With great fervor, Murdoc turned on his six-inch Cuban heels, bring the frightened singer with him, and faced a massive, bulky heap of what looked like pink plastic. As 2D gawked at the enormous structure in awe, the Satanist did the same, and gazed at his own creation with an expression of sheer delight.

Murdoc chuckled when he saw how astounded his daft singer was, and he slowly leaned in closer, bringing his face to the quivering boy's ear again, tugging on his neck with the crook of his arm.

"Why, we're home, Stuart …" the bassist whispered eerily, watching with contentment as the bluenette's face contorted in bewilderment and distress.

'No. No … Did 'e really bring me to his … his beach? His sodding private island?' 2D shook in fright, wriggling around under Murdoc's arm, still wrapped around his frail upper body. 'Oh … wot'd 'e call it? Point Nemo? Plastic …'

"Plastic Beach … " 2D murmured, as if coming to a shocking realization. He stared at the heap of plastic, taking in its looks, smells, and sounds in uncomfortable admiration. The edifice was gigantic; he'd never seen anything quite like it before. He couldn't see the very top of it. But the entire structure itself was made entirely of garbage and various pieces of rubbish.

The azure-haired man didn't get a very good chance to take in the sights that encased him, because before he could even muster the courage to speak up again through his wonderment, he was suddenly grabbed at the forearm by the bass player and dragged quickly towards the construction.

"Common, dent'ead. You and I … 'ave a lot of catching up ta do."

Author's Comments: Alright, then! Chapter One is up [FINALLY]! Thanks for the great reviews so far, guys. ^_^

I know I might have made a few spelling/grammar mistakes in this, so ... sorry if you come across any misspelled words or something of that nature ... T^T;;;

Also, I know that in some points in the story, I refer to 2D as a 'youth'. He's about thirty in this story, and I honestly don't think thirty is that old. So, yeah. Sorry if I confused anyone with that title.