Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Gorillaz characters nor the concept, that belongs to the rightful owners Jamie Hewlett and Damon Albarn. I do however own my OC Alyss.


Chapter Seven: Whispers

There was never a moment in Murdoc's life where he actually wanted to talk to people; he remembered back when he was just a nobody no one would talk to him but as soon as he became famous no one could learn fast enough to shut up. But in the silence of the Winnebago Murdoc almost missed the conventional conversations that would occur every time he stumbled upon someone drunk and wanting to hook up. As his mismatched eyes looked away from the door that was knocked off he glanced at Alyss.

She looked so frail but what did it matter to him? After all as far as he was concern, she was a nobody. Alyss Niccals... for some reason that name had the same strange ring to it that his own name had; it was mysterious... almost as if her name was calling out to a small fragment of his distant memory, one that he made sure he kept hidden from the others' view...

Murdoc growled under his breath and glanced at the rusted door that now lay in the garage of Kong Studios; on Russel's way out he slammed the door shut only to have it fall. Noodle quickly followed after him to calm the drummer down, but 2D... the usual blank vacancy in his face was gone and replaced by something that looked like disgust. The trio had left him alone. That was an hour ago... he was still alone. Wait there was a correction to be made in that statement: He wasn't alone, he still had Alyss.

Even as he took a seat across from her on his bed and studied her charcoal hair that was covered in sweat and glanced at the paleness of her skin he couldn't even tell if she really was related to him. Murdoc sighed with frustration and lit a cigarette, not caring if Alyss would choke on the sudden transition of clean air to smoke.

"'his is your bloody fault luv. Yew just had 'o appear 'n make everythin' go wrong didn't yew?" he grumbled at Alyss.

There was no answer, and the bass slayer knew there wouldn't be an answer for a long time. Murdoc threw his cigarette out one of the Winnebago's windows and laid in his bed, glad that sleep seemed to come so easily to him now that the drama was over.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

In the darkness one could only imagine what lingered in it; as a child Murdoc already knew what was waiting for him. There were no sounds to let on the fact there was another presence in the small kitchen, even though the room had the odor of alcohol and cigarette smoke Murdoc didn't bother calling out. He knew what would've happened if he disturbed his father when he was drunk.

Murdoc was only ten at the time when he had a realization that ultimately changed his life. It was one that most people have when they're in high school, one that most people take for granted and push aside because they know they have a home they can return to. Murdoc didn't know it at the time, maybe he did but never said anything; it seems like no one would really know for sure. He realized that he needed to escape this horrible place in Stoke-on-Trent, England. It was a cruel place to be raised; living around the harshness of his father's punches and kicks, to be taunted by Hannibal as he got prepared for school, the other place he loathed just as much as his home. His only desire at that moment was to get away from this place.

The door was somewhere in the darkness though, he knew his house like the back of his hand. In the kitchen, beyond the small little table in the middle of the room, there was an old door that squeaked loudly anytime it was opened... what little Murdoc also knew was that there was a chance that he would wake up his father escaping. Of course Murdoc always believed he was lucky to make it to the tender age of ten... even if he wasn't as innocent as other ten year olds.

Murdoc's pale green hands grasped at the wall as though there was a railing waiting to lead him to the door. He felt the coldness of the outside world lingering in the walls and instantly shivered as he looked toward where he thought the door was. One chance; no use in fearing the "what ifs" forever.

He was doing so well. He was so close to freedom that his felt his heart pounding against his chest, threatening to burst out and leave a bloody mess on the tiles that could be peeled off the floor if someone bothered to sit there and actually attempt it. Murdoc Niccals was so close to feeling the cold world that he almost giggled in happiness at this massive achievement.

All it took was one little stumble before he fell away from the wall and instead fell on top of a liquor bottle to hear the breeze of sweet freedom become a small fantasy that was destroyed right in front of him. The bottle he had tripped on shattered, liquid was quickly absorbed into his black sweatpants and he felt something sharp sticking from his ankle. He let out a howl of pain and held his ankle.

"YOU LITTLE BRAT WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

Murdoc screamed as he felt his father's fist crashing into the side of his face, pain instantly inflamming that section of his face. Murdoc's eyes widened as he knew that another hit would find its way onto his small frame... ...

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Murdoc woke up with a start and almost yelled in fear of his father's vicious blows; he blinked and saw a strange sight. He had to rub one of his eyes to see that Alyss was sitting up on the black leather couch, her forehead covered in sweat, her eyes wide in fear. It was almost like looking in a mirror; both mismatched eyes were wide with an unknown fear, both of them were shaking slightly from the cool air that found its way into the Winnebago... both of them were scared of something that lingered in their past.

The Satanist almost thought he was staring into his younger self's eyes, witnessing the fear he had felt on that particular night. Instead he found a young girl who was scared out of her mind by a reality that if she was caught she would be killed. Murdoc then realized what Del was trying to tell him all along.

"If you don't do anything you're letting yourself down. You're gonna wind up watching a part of yourself be killed with her. You may not know her and she may not know you but you're connected somehow. You're both similar, and nothing will change that obvious fact."

Murdoc understood that it was either this girl dies or she lives. He sighed when he realized what his conscious was telling him to do. He stretched his arms out and got up. Alyss' eyes watched him cautiously as he crossed the small distance between the bed and couch. She squealed slightly when he lifted her and placed her on his bed.

"W-What are you doing M-Murdoc?" her voice whispered. She was still afraid, her eyes told him that.

"Yew can sleep there fer 'he night."

Murdoc sat on the couch and folded his hands on his lap and watched her. Alyss didn't move an inch from the spot she was placed in. He was annoyed now.

"Wot 're yew starin' at?"

Alyss looked down and whispered, "Nothing... I just... thought I heard you whispering something when you were sleeping..."

Murdoc froze slightly, "Wot did I say?" he asked, curiosity grasping him.

The teen glanced up from her lap and seemed to be staring through him with a glassy glare that was accusing.

"You were whispering, I'm sorry. Don't hit me... I'm sorry, I won't try to leave ever again."

Murdoc felt his heart stop. He had said that? Yes... he was yelling that as his father hit him continuously after that incident... he had whispered it loud enough for Alyss to hear it? He leaned forward a little and shook his head, "Yew must be hearin' things. I didn't say anythin'."

Alyss frowned and laid down on Murdoc's bed, her back facing him. Her hands were clasped together and held against her small, shaking frame; Murdoc felt guilt for lying to her like that. He shook his head and said, "You're wanted... aren't yew?"

The teen looked tense as she curled up slightly, "Drop it. I don't want to talk about it."

"Do people think yew did those murders?"

"Stop it..."

Murdoc growled, "I have 'o know so I can 'elp yew!"

Alyss covered her ears and she shook her head against the covers, "I don't wanna talk about it Murdoc! Let it die!"

"WHY DON'T YEW BLOODY WANT TO TALK 'BOUT IT?"

The atmosphere became stiff with a sudden and quick anger that it made Murdoc forget about his own rage that had built from Alyss' avoidance. He looked at Alyss who was shaking beyond the point he thought she was having a seizure. Murdoc got up and walked over and reached to touch her shoulder, "luv?"

What met him wasn't a whimper or something apologizing, instead it was a punch to the face. He fell backwards, his eyes wide with both surprise and anger; yet the look he was given made his blood freeze in his veins.

Alyss' eyes were both blood red, and for a brief moment she didn't look like herself, didn't even resemble him as a child. She was gripping the blankets tightly and her eyes were watering.

"I didn't ask fer this," she started off, her American accent waivering slightly under the pressure of talking. "Yes... people think I did those horrible things, they believe that I'm capable of those cruel acts. Let's be honest, everyone is capable of crimes like shooting someone in the head, or slicing them to the point they're unrecognizable. Everyone is. What they're accusing me of is biased because they knew my mom was insane and they thought that woman's child would be insane just like her."

By this point she was crying, and Murdoc felt himself shrink. He hated when girls cried. This was a different guilt though that consumed him.

"... Why bother?"

Murdoc felt himself snap out of his guilt to hear that. He saw depression sinking into the teen, a sort of angst that made her aware that Murdoc probably could've cared less what happened to her. He saw her release the blankets and sniffle as she laid back down.

"Why bother with it? You don't care. No one has. So what makes me think you care?"

There was a small series of sniffles and hiccups before Alyss fell asleep finally. Murdoc stood up and felt the side of his face she punched. It felt painful but that wasn't what made him regain his sense; it was the fact that Alyss had done that to him. He knew she needed help. But he glared at her while she slept, how dare she punch him! Him, Murdoc Niccals, bass slayer of the world famous band Gorillaz! His pride soon shut down and he shrugged as he fell onto the leather couch.

After being uncomfortable for a while and finally finding the blanket Alyss apparently had thrown off he stared at the sleeping teen. She was pretty young to deal with those kind of emotions... that kind of isolation. He frowned but he just closed his eyes, letting his mind drift away from all the horrible things in the world and for once look for something good to look forward to...

Nothing came into mind. He shivered as he was cast into another childhood memory. That's all that seemed to occupy his dreams lately; always had been... most likely always would be.


And there's Chapter Seven of Unexpected. Yes I know it wasn't the best chapter in the world but after rewriting the same chapter for weeks now I realized I haven't updated in a long time so why not give you guys a Christmas present (or a "happy holidays" present to those who don't celebrate Christmas). Please tell me what you guys think; I know I've gotten pretty rusty at this.