2D was awakened by his body convulsing in a sudden fit of coughs. He felt a wetness dripping from his lips, the taste of copper coating the inside of his mouth. He breathed in the heavy, stale air with shaky rasps, his lungs unable to open fully. He peeled open a single bruised eye, peering down at the red spatters coating the cement floor. The room was dark save for a single opening in the ceiling which let in a steady stream of light.
Sunlight…2D thought. How many days 'as it been…?
He murmured slightly as he sat up straighter, his broken ribs painfully clicking against each other. He could feel the serrated broken edges scrape his flesh as he breathed.
Opening his other eye, he swivelled his neck to the best of his ability to survey his surroundings. Same room, same building. Same cold, metal chair biting into the wounds on his arms. Same darkness swarming around him, concealing any number of hidden assailants. He gave a hopeful tug at the manacles binding his wrists behind him, and instantly regretted it as lightning flared in his brain. He relaxed his arms, hoping the pain would fade soon enough.
He remembered that the psychopath keeping him here had mentioned an incentive, and that the savage beating would most likely bring his friends right to him immediately. Hope trickled into him, a slight smile tugging at his torn lips. They'll be 'ere soon…he thought to himself. They'll come f' me.
"Well, well, well, look who's awake." A bejeweled cane impaled the darkness, emerging into the sunlight bathing 2D. "I was worried for a second my lovelies had killed you." Snickers from all around him.
"Yer a fuckin' psychopath, I 'ope yew know that," he spat, breathing heavily through his mouth as his nose was clotted with blood.
"Come now, flattery will get you nowhere. Did you enjoy your little snooze, sleeping beauty? Did you have sweet dreams?" Dr. Wurzel cooed, leaning down on his cane. He snickered, standing up straight. "Alright, any ideas as to what we should do for him before his friends inevitably come to rescue our little pet?" A collection of hoots and howls erupted from the darkness. He pointed his cane at a displaced voice in the crowd.
"A-Ah, I t'ink, that, er, we should cook 'im! And eat 'im!" A feminine squeal of a voice declared, gaining mutters of approval from the audience. Dr. Wurzel looked taken aback.
"How disgusting! You vile creature, how could you suggest such a thing knowing we don't nearly have any of the proper spices needed to properly prepare a human for consumption?! You disgust me." Wurzel huffed, turning away from the suggestion. "Alright, anyone else?" Another voice called out. A thick Scottish accent accompanied the gruff rasp.
"Aye, we should hang 'im outside with th' birds, like a flag! 'Is friends'll see 'im blowin' like a leaf in th' wind, and they'll come runnin'!" A round of laughter responded to the suggestion, but was quickly quieted by Dr. Wurzel's raised hand.
"Alright, you bloody bunch are useless- tell you what. I'll give it 3 days, my sweet. 3 days for a response; and if none is acquired in those 3 precious days, well…" Dr. Wurzel chuckled. "I'll send you back home." 2D blinked in surprise. "In 10 separate packages, that is." A whoop of laughter cascaded around the room. "I'll use the Gorillaz fortune to pay for the shipping. I hope you'll understand. That shit is expensive."
"Yew fuckin' monster…I 'ope you know that when Muds gets 'ere, e's gonna tear yew limb from limb and dump yer lifeless body into th' ocean!" 2D screamed. That is, he hoped it sounded like a scream. He could do little more than wheeze considering his lungs could expand a 5th of their normal size. He began coughing violently, fresh blood spattering his knees.
"Oh no, baby, you're getting yourself all messy," Dr. Wurzel murmured in mock worry. "Well, I guess I can't leave you like that. You'll bleed to death in, like, an hour or something. Come now, my sweets, patch the poor baby up."
A flock of patchwork cronies erupted from the darkness, each carrying a small metallic case. They stumbled towards 2D, as if they had no proper use of their legs. Whipping open their boxes, they began violently stitching 2D's wounds shut, piercing his flesh with rusty needles and dragging rough thread across his flesh. They snickered as they worked, their smiles growing with each pained cry he gave. One of the medics noticed a particularly fetid wound on his knee, and gasped with delight. Grabbing a small flask from his metal case, he splashed what felt like pure alcohol into the wound. 2D's back arched as a screech tore through his throat, reverberating around the room. Tears dotted his cheeks as he bit his lower lip to keep from shrieking in pain. As the hobbled men finished their slap dash patch job, they retreated back into the darkness, one of them slapping 2D's knee as they left.
"Perfect! There, my sweet, doesn't that feel better? Now you can at least stop worrying about your innards spilling out of you and just enjoy your luxurious stay." Dr. Wurzel waltzed over languidly, placing a hand on 2D's head. He played with the soft tufts of hair sticking up every which way, his enormous rings knocking painfully against his scalp. "And now…we wait."
