A/N: Here's chapter one! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! This is really fun to write, so I'm glad you readers like it so far :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Gorillaz.
~Chapter One: The Servant's Deception~
Murdoc Niccals was currently attempting to get over one of the worst hangovers he'd ever had.
It all started yesterday, March 3rd, the day the new album was released. Naturally, it had been an extremely exciting night for the leader of the band. He had been working on Plastic Beach for what seemed like forever, and now it was finally being publicized. To celebrate, he thought it was a brilliant idea to invite all the guest singers and directors and basically everyone else who worked on the album over to the island for a huge party. He even allowed 2D to come up for a half hour or so, (mostly to not arouse suspicion among the other people at the party, most of which didn't exactly know that 2D was being held there against his will), to chat with the guests, have a few drinks, and all that other jazz. The singer had looked happier than he had in almost the full year he had been here. If Murdoc weren't so busy, he would have been disgusted.
Eventually, a few drinks turned into enough drinks, and enough drinks turned into too many drinks, and too many drinks had turned into a 'what's-my-name-again?' amount of drinks. And the next morning, when most of the people who attended the party left in their submarines and their fancy little airplanes, Murdoc was out cold on the couch, Cyborg Noodle hovering over him, anxious for him to wake up. And when he did, it took him about half an hour to get used to the light, an hour to sit up, another hour to be able to stand up, and about two hours to get his head to stop spinning enough to be able to walk. After that, it was straight to the loo.
Now it was about eight o'clock. The sky was just beginning to get dark, and Murdoc was sitting up in bed, still not feeling too fresh, browsing the web on some crummy little laptop he had bought off the Internet a few months back. So far, Plastic Beach was getting fairly good reviews. And, of course, every time he found something bad about it on a blog or whatnot, he'd just post an anonymous review insulting the author's mother. It made the bassist feel accomplished.
Soon there was a knock on his door, and when he grunted in response, in walked Cyborg Noodle, holding a tray of food. In her mechanical, slightly Japanese-accented voice, she asked, "Would master like a sandwich and water?"
Murdoc was still in a slightly bad mood, and was about to command the robot to get him some bloody rum, not a freaking glass of water. He stopped himself, however, when his stomach gave another unpleasant lurch, reminding him that water would probably be the best choice right about now. Annoyed, he spat, "Fine! Fine, then, give it here!"
Ignoring her master's rude tone as always, she walked over to his bed, which had been cleared of all his fancy hats, (he liked to wear them while reading jazz magazines). Then she carefully placed the tray on the bedside table, which held a clock that was a few hours off, a pack of cigarettes, a wallet, and a Mickey Mouse phone holder. Then the robot girl turned back to Murdoc, saluted him, and asked, "Is there anything else I can do for you at this time, master?"
Murdoc grunted again, growing slightly agitated with that mechanical tone of voice. "Yeah, you can fuck off and go power down."
The robot saluted one more time before walking back to the large, metal door. She turned the wheel, opened the door, and was about to step out. But she stopped half way out. Then she looked over her shoulder at Murdoc, who was watching her suspiciously through narrowed eyes.
Murdoc knew that something was up with her. It had started about a week ago, when Murdoc was drunk again and cracked a joke about some inappropriate topic. He and the cyborg were the only ones there. And the cyborg… she laughed. She smiled and laughed. She wasn't programmed to laugh unless commanded to. She had smiled a few times, yes, when doing something particularly evil. But this was… different. It was a scary laugh; mechanical and hard-sounding. Too loud. Too unnatural. Murdoc would never, ever admit it, but it was a little unnerving. Then, a few days later, Murdoc told her that he didn't need her at the moment. And he could have sworn she looked almost… remorseful. And yesterday, when he told her he was going to throw a party and began to command her to start making the arrangements, she almost looked excited. Excited, for Pete's sake! She was not programmed to show any of these emotions. She was programmed to show only what he, her master, told her to show. Murdoc knew something was wrong. So he told himself he'd keep an extra eye on her. However, because of the hangover, he had been neglecting that claim. Until now, when she was, once again, acting strangely. Her movements were slow. Her body was tense. As if she was… expecting something. Murdoc didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit.
So now, when she turned back around to face him, Murdoc was suspicious even before what happened next.
An evil smile spread across the fake Noodle's face. Something in her hidden green eyes flashed. And, in a low, mischievous voice, she hissed, "Goodnight, master," the word contained so much sarcasm that Murdoc flinched, "it was not nice working with you!"
A gun sprang out of her mouth, locked and loaded. Ready to fire. Murdoc, scared out of his wit, only just had time to dive behind the bed before a stream of bullets was fired from her mouth. This was it. He was going to die here. Shot dead by his own creation.
However, Murdoc didn't hear the bullets hit the ground around him, or the bed, or even him. Instead, he heard them hit metal. Something clattered to the ground, and then he heard the door slam shut. All was silent.
For a while he remained crouched behind the bed, heart beating fast, head still spinning. He wasn't dead. Then what had happened?
Slowly, the man sat up a little straighter and peeked over the side of the bed. He was alone. For a second he wondered if that had all been some kind of drug-induced vision. But then he saw something lying on the floor near the door. It was the metal wheel that was the handle to the door. Shot off. The door was bare.
'No. No, no, no. She wouldn't have!' Murdoc's thoughts were panicked and jumbled. He stood up, but the fast movement made his head spin, and he nearly fell back onto the bed. He grasped the bedside table for support instead. The tray with the sandwich and water fell onto the ground, sending liquid and food all over the ground. And that's when Murdoc knew. He knew the cyborg was no longer in his control.
He hadn't felt so vulnerable since he found the island.
Then the man shook his head frantically, growling at his own weakness. He would be fine. He'd just shut down the stupid robot that had obviously malfunctioned sometime last week. Easy peasy. No problemo.
He slowly made his way over to the door. With no handle, he was forced to just push it open.
It didn't budge.
He tried again.
Nothing.
Shit.
He stood there for a few minutes, completely lost of ideas. He was stuck here, in the Master Suit. What did the cyborg plan on doing while he was in here? Wreak havoc on the island? Kill the other residents? Escape from this damned place? Murdoc didn't want to wait to find out. He hurried back to the other side of the room, where about twenty cardboard boxes were all stacked. He frantically began to search through them. There had to be something here that could help him get out of this hell hole!
That's when he found it: an old rifle. He quickly dusted it off, then clicked open the chamber. Three bullets. He only had three bullets. He knew he had more guns in the study, and even more in his secret chamber beneath the lighthouse. But would these three bullets last him long enough to get there?
He had to try.
He readied the gun, then quickly made his way back to the door. There were two hinges. He'd save the last bullet for the cyborg. He'd only have one change at this. Satan knows he hadn't shot a gun since the bodyguard was built. But he had to try. He had to.
He raised the barrel of the gun to the first hinge, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the hinge then ricocheted off of it. Murdoc jumped out of the way before it could hit him. He grimaced. He had forgot bullets could do that. Slightly more careful this time, he readied the gun again then aimed at the second hinge. He pulled the trigger, and the same thing happened. Now both of the hinges were weakened.
Grinning at his good aim, Murdoc held the rifle close to him, backed up away from the door, and then charged shoulder first into it. It fell right over, and Murdoc went flying into the hallway, landing hard on his right shoulder. He cringed, head spinning, then slowly stood up.
He realized that he had no idea where this stupid scrap piece of metal was. He had no plan. Nonetheless, he pressed the button to call the lift, gun loaded just in case. Soon the doors slid open, and Murdoc stepped into the small circular lift, thrilled to see there was no one else in there. Then he stared at the panel. He could go into the study, flee into the secret entrance of his hideout, then take a submarine out of there. He could go ask Dave if he had seen the cyborg lately. He could go warn 2D. He could gather more artillery, then find the robot and face her head on. Or he could just go to the roof and jump off.
No. No, he wouldn't stoop so low. He was Murdoc Faust Niccals. He was better than that.
He pressed the button to 2D's room. The lift began to move.
In a few seconds, the lift came to a sudden stop, and the doors slid open, revealing a poorly lit hallway. Murdoc hurried to the one door at the end of it, hardly believing what he was doing. It was so uncharacteristic of him to actually care about, well, anyone.
'Well, not a lot is making much sense today, anyways,' he thought ruefully as he came to the door. It was the kind of door that could only open from the outside, so there was no use of knocking, (not that Murdoc would have knocked, anyways). Instead, Murdoc twisted the handle and forced the door open.
Stuart Pot was sitting up in his bed, a small DVD player sitting in his lap. He must have been watching one of his stupid zombie moves of something, because screams and other gruesome noises could be heard coming from the device. When the door opened, he looked up in surprise. "Oh, hey Muds. I thought you were dead."
Murdoc stared at the blue-haired man, lost for words, the rifle hanging limply in his right hand. Then he spat, "What the bloody hell are you talking about?"
2D pressed pause on the DVD player, closed it, then faced Murdoc again. "Well, I heard some gunshots."
Murdoc narrowed his eyes. "So you just assumed I was dead, and you didn't even bother coming to check?"
"Well, how could I? With that whale guarding me, I can't leave, can I?" 2D shot back. "And what's with the rifle?"
Murdoc was tempted to tell him it was to shoot him in his stupid, muddled face. But then he remembered that there was a metal death machine roaming the building as they spoke. He gathered all the patience he possible could, more than he even knew he possessed, and said, "Cyborg's gone haywire. She shot the handle off my door and locked me in. Now she's probably running around the fucking building, ready to kill any bloke she finds. We're grabbing any thing we need and getting out of here."
2D's face drained of the little color it already possessed. "I-is she… armed?"
Murdoc lost it. "Yes, she is fucking armed, idiot! She has a gun in her friggin' mouth, for Satan's sake! Now hurry up and gather whatever it is you want to keep and let's head for the subs!"
"But… why didn't she kill you when she had the chance?" He stuttered, realizing for the first time how serious the situation really was.
"I wish I knew. Now hurry up! Meet me in the study in five minutes, and warn Dave and Tattoo on the way up. I think we should have enough subs for both of them." And with that, Murdoc turned on his heels and ran back for the door, finally being able to move fast without his head spinning.
Just as he reached the lift, he heard 2D yell, "Wait, Murdoc! What about the whale?"
Murdoc groaned, ran back to the window in his room, opened the shades, and banged on the glass hard. 2D squeaked. Ignoring him, Murdoc waiting until the beast's eye was visible, then yelled, "The deal's off! You have your money! Now fuck off!"
The whale swam away. 2D looked at Murdoc, mouth hanging open. "Was that… all I needed to do?"
Murdoc grunted and ran from the room once again.
A few minutes later, Murdoc was back in the lift, going up to the Study. So far he had no run ins with Cyborg Noodle, much to his relief. He had gone up to his room once again, and quickly packed a small duffle bag filled with some bottles of rum, a few packs of cigarettes, a lighter, his wallet, (filled with spare coins and his many bank cards), his cell phone, and a few other knickknacks that he refused to let go of. The last thing he grabbed was 'El Diablo', which was conveniently already in its case. Then, with his bags and the rifle in tow, he made a run for the lift and punched the button several times. He was surprised how fast it came. He had thought 2D might have be using it, but Murdoc guessed that he was either still packing, or already up there.
The lift stopped at the top floor, and Murdoc was about to step out when he heard something that made his twisted heart drop into his stomach. It was 2D. Screaming.
Swearing loudly, Murdoc threw his bag and bass case out of the doors into the study, then pressed the button to 2D's room. The doors slid close again. Armed only with a gun with one bullet remaining, the lift sank back down to the underwater basement. It seemed to take forever to get down there. The longest lift ride of Murdoc's life, no doubt. And as the lift sank lower and lower in its shaft, 2D's screams and sobs and whimpers were becoming more and more audible. It was nerve wrecking.
When the lift finally stopped, Murdoc almost didn't want to get out. But then he reminded himself who he was. He readied the gun as the doors slid open.
There was Cyborg Noodle, standing at the end of the hall. And there was 2D, cowering in front of her, pinned to the wall by her metal grip. She had the barrel of a gun to his head. The robot spun to face her former master. She grinned. 2D whimpered again.
Instinctively, the Satanist stepped out of the lift and raised the rifle. He knew he couldn't shoot; not with the robot's gun to the singer's head. Even if Murdoc didn't think she'd shoot 2D, he didn't want to hit him by accident. He had gotten lucky back in his room.
So instead, Murdoc kept the gun raised, hoping she wouldn't be able to see how much his arms were shaking. "Leave him alone. He didn't do nothing. Put down the gun." He hated how much his gruff voice shook.
No one would have guessed what happened next. The cyborg actually lowered the gun. She let go of 2D's shirt, and he slid down the wall onto the floor next to his duffle bag and a guitar case, empty eyes wide with fear. Murdoc raised his eyebrows. Had she actually listened to him? Was he still in charge of her?
But then she reached inside her pocket of her black tights. Murdoc, too shocked to shoot, just watched as she brought something small and metal out of her pocket. She held it up, as if to show them what it was. It was a small metal handle. On top of it was a red button. Her thumb was hovering over it.
Murdoc had a pretty good idea of what it was, but he couldn't help but ask. "Love, what's that?"
She smiled her evil, mechanical smile again. "Bomb trigger. The island is about to blow when I press button." She looked like she had just done something that would please her master. Murdoc was far from pleased. Murdoc was terrified.
How could so much have gone so wrong in only fifteen minutes?
A/N: Whelp? How'd I do? Please review and tell me what you think! Next chapter will be up as soon as possible.
Thanks for reading!
~blue-eyed-cow