This part of the story, was written as if from Russels Perspective.
Russel is sitting at the kitchen table. Eating a bucket of chicken. When Murdoc walks in, carrying a shovel. The large American looks up at him and raises an eyebrow. Overcome with curiosity he goes to ask the devious Bassist, what the shovel is for. But stops himself. Knowing that whatever the reason, Murdoc is bound to make getting the answer, almost impossible. He shrugs and ignores the old man. Going back to eating his chicken. Murdoc leans the shovel by the back door and goes to the cupboard.
"What?" Russel asks suddenly. Giving the Bassist a confused look. Muds turns, holding a half bottle of Whiskey.
"Huh?" the old man asks, opening the bottle and pouring himself a large drink. Russel rolls his eyes and snarls.
"Man! Ya jus' said sumthin, and I didn't hear ya. What did ya say?" he grumbles, pointing at Murdoc with a chicken wing. Murdoc takes a swig and smacks his lips loudly. Not really concerned with anything Russel has to say.
"Nope. I didn't. Yer dreamin'." he replies and belches, patting his stomach. Russel grimaces at the old man and confused, tries to remember. Not able to, he shakes his head and decides perhaps he did imagine it after all. Shrugging, he goes back to eating his meal.
Later in the bowling alley. Murdoc and 2D are playing a game. When Russel walks in and bodily picks up 2D. Tucking the confused young man under his arm. He excuses them both and walks back out into the corridor. Murdoc stares hard at the retreating men.
"Well of all the...?" he splutters, blinking hard. "Yer bringin' him back right?!" he calls out as the door closes behind them.
In the corridor, outside the bowling alley. Russel sets 2D down on his feet and grabs him hard by the shoulders. Staring deeply into the Keyboardists black hole eyes, he smiles weakly.
"Can you hear dat?" he asks, nodding and hoping 2D will confirm what he has asked. 2D blinks and tips his head to his shoulder, listening. But not knowing what it is he's supposed to be hearing. Slowly shakes his head.
"I dunno Russ? Wot am I listenin' for?" he asks. Russel sighs a little frustrated. Then hearing the sound again, points at the ceiling excitedly.
"Dat! Dat scratchin' sound? Like a big assed rat, chewin' on a piece of wood?" he splutters. 2D listens again a little harder. After a short while he shakes his head again.
"No. I don' hear nufink like that Russ. Maybe your im.., Imag..., imagination. Is runnin' away from you?" he answers and pats Russel comfortingly on the arm. Russel releases him and slumps his heavy shoulders. 2D turns and starts walking back to the bowling alley. Just as the Keyboardist reaches the door. he stops and looks back at Russel. The Drummer sighs and walks away. Pressing his finger into his ear as if trying to clear it. Worried. 2D makes his way back to Murdoc.
"Oh! It's about time." Murdoc snaps, as 2D re-enters the room. "So what did the "Man Mountain" want?" the Bassist snarls, folding his arms over his chest and tapping his booted foot impatiently. "Don't tell me he used ya to floss his teeth again? Ahaw, haw, haw." the Bassist jokes, as 2D walks slowly towards him, still looking over his shoulder in the general direction of where he left Russel.
"No. He..." suddenly catching on to the last comment Murdoc had made. 2D snaps his head around and furrows his brow annoyed. "No! Tsk. He's hearin' stuff Muds." he grumbles with a small amount of frustration. Murdoc yawns and waves him off.
"Yeah. Yeah. Hearin' stuff. Whoopie. That's what ears are for Dullard. Now stop stallin' and get back to loosin' this game." the old man insists, dropping a ball into 2Ds arms. 2D lets out a frustrated breath and does as he's told.
Later in his room. Russel is sitting on the end of his bed. His head in his hands. The scratching sound seems louder now.
"It's gotta be dis whole place?" he moans, running his hands back over his head and down to the back of his neck. "All dese freak assed tings dat have been happenin'. I gotta git outta heya." he snarls, shaking his head and getting to his feet. He grabs a suitcase and tosses it open onto his bed. Then quickly begins tearing things from his drawers, and tossing them into it. Slams the suitcase shut and makes his way from his room.
Murdoc steps into the lobby with a huge grin across his face. Counting out the money he'd just won from 2D. He looks up at Russel, who is just about to walk out the front door. Suitcase in hand.
"Oi! Where do ya think yer goin'?" the Bassist snarls, shoving the money into his pocket. Russel stops and looks back at the Bassist. He searches his mind for an excuse, and decides to just keep it simple. Hoping that he doesn't end up in an argument with him.
"I'm err. Feelin' a bit run down Muds. Thought I might chill out back home a spell? Ya dig?" he explains, hoping that Murdoc would leave it at that and not make an issue. Murdoc slits his eyes and looks the large man up and down.
"Whatever. Just don't expect me ta respect ya for all this diva crap yer pullin'? Yer just the Drummer remember?" he snarls and storms off to the Winnie. For a moment Russels temper flares and the large man, feels the urge to go punch Murdocs head through a wall. But he swallows the urge instead ,and makes his way out to the waiting taxi.
Finally safe on the plane and in the air. Russel sits back in his seat and sucks in a deep cleansing breath. Since the release of 'Demon Days.' The Drummer has been plagued by thoughts of impending doom. And now feels perhaps this was the reason for the strange feelings, noises and things happening to him. Murdocs insistence that, "The next project, will be the biggest thing the world has ever seen." Has done nothing but make the large man nervous.
"Who knows what tha' Cracker has in mind?" he shudders and settles back further in his seat, closing his eyes. Lulled by the movement of the plane. The Drummer slips quietly to sleep and begins to dream.
In his dream. Russel finds himself on an open plain. It's dark and there is a strong wind, howling about him and whipping at his clothes and stinging his eyes. He holds his hand up to his face, trying to protect it from the wind. Looking about him as far as the moonlight will allow. He sees nothing but the grass blown flat by the wind. The featureless landscape, seeming to stretch on for miles and miles. He calls out, but the sound of his voice is drained away by the howling wind. Suddenly he feels a thump against his back, as if someone has just walked into him. He spins quickly to see who it is. But once again is faced with nothing but empty grass land. Nervously. He stumbles away from the spot, pressing himself against the wind. He looks back to be sure that no one is behind him and suddenly crashes into something and falls heavily back onto the ground. He looks up and sees a huge dark figure looming down at him. It's features lost, in a sea of black emptiness. Shocked. The large man scrambles back on all fours, trying to put as much distance as he can, between them both. As he watches, the shape swells and changes. It's form spreading out like a large storm cloud. Sending out tendril like fingers down towards him. The Drummer swipes at them with his hand, turns and struggling to his feet. Takes off in a run. But his feet feel like lead and he finds it hard to take each step. The wind howls louder still. It burns his ears and makes his throat dry and sore. He takes a quick look over his shoulder and finds the shape is practically on top of him. Looming down as if ready to scoop him up. The tendrils shoot towards him and pause, then shoot again at him. Like snakes, striking at it's victim. Again and again. The scratching sound starts again. It's sound an accent on the howling, deep in his mind. Russel slaps his hands over his ears, in an attempt to block out the maddening noise. He stumbles and falls, taking his hands from his ears in an attempt to brace himself. He rolls onto his back, the cloud spreading around him like a wall. Blocking any route of escape. Russel puts his arms up in defense, opening his mouth in a soundless scream as the cloud rushes down upon him. Booming his name.
"Ahhhhhhhhh!" screams the Drummer. Flailing his arms at an unseen enemy. He looks about him and finds he's still on the plane. An air hostess, panting in fear and holding her chest. Is standing beside him. "Oh. I'm..." he starts to apologize in embarrassment. But she shakes her head and smiles.
"No. That's quite alright. I could see you were having a nightmare. You just startled me. That's all." she replies and hands him a cup of water. The plane lands a while later and Russel makes his way through the check out and finally into a taxi. He breathes a sigh of relief as the taxi makes it's way to his Hotel.
That night after dinner. The Drummer leaves the Hotel and goes for a walk. Taking in all the sounds, sights and smells of the city. He's surprised at how comfortable he feels. He hadn't really noticed how much he had missed home, until that moment. Suddenly he hears a voice.
"He's at da door." it hisses. It's so clear and loud, he assumes it's someone beside him, and he turns to see who it is. No one is there. He stands still and looks all around him. But still sees no one. Suddenly he is overcome by a feeling of dread, as he suddenly realizes what has been happening to him.
"Oh no!" he splutters. And quickly makes his way back to the Hotel.
His mind is suddenly filled with this big booming sound. Like someone striking a large gong, over and over again. The sound is so powerful, it makes it hard for the large man to stay upright. He stumbles and leans his hand against a wall for support. He turns and presses his back to it. The pain in his head so strong, it makes his eyes well up with tears. He closes them tightly, trying to press them back.
"Not again. I couldn' take it a second time." he wails. Clutching his head in his hands and doubling over in pain. He pounds at his temples with his fists.
"Ya should'a thought 'bout dat, a'fore ya lemme git exorcised." the voice hisses into the core of Russels brain. Angrily the large man stands up straight and furrows his brow.
"Man! Ya near tore me mind up! Whatcha tink I woz goin'a do, fool?" the Drummer snarls back, as a feeling of sickness makes it's way through his body.
"No Bro. If'n ya had lef' me be? I wouldn'a haffta have done none o' dis now. An' who knows? Dis time may be worse dawg?" it replies as Russel feels the darkness swell about him as his mind slowly slips away.
"I don' wanna loose my mind. It's all I got." he whimpers as he slowly looses unconsciousness.
Back home in England. Murdoc is in the lobby of a sleazy Motel. Strangling a very confused 2D. When Russel walks in.
"Man! Who decided ta turn Kong into landfill?" he asks, distracting Murdoc. 2D takes the opportunity to slip from the Bassists grasp and take off. As the very frustrated old man, turns his attention to Russel.
"Oh. So glad you could join us. Yer Royal Largeness. And in answer to yer question? Who do ya think?" he snaps, pointing at 2D hiding behind a wall.
"Oh? How?" Russel asks. Not quite believing the old man. But not wanting an argument either.
"Bah! Who knows? Probably threw summink he shouldn't of in the furnace?" he responds, waving the question off. 2D stands up and looks hard at Murdoc.
"Wait a minute? I thought it was that guy called Han....?" he squeaks, but is cut off by Murdoc.
"Don't be daft!" Murdoc screeches and picking up a tacky piece of waxed fruit. The Motels vain attempt at looking a bit classy. He throws it at the Keyboardist. Hitting the young man square between the eye holes.
"Ow!" 2D whimpers in protest. Murdoc smiles and chuckles to himself.
"Wait? Who?" Russel asks, holding Murdoc back.
"Nobody! Ya know what he's like. Why are ya questionin' me?" Murdoc snarls moving around the room, trying to catch to 2D to stop him talking.
"Wha? Who, what? Who?" 2D answers confused. Suddenly forgetting what they had been talking about. Murdoc stops chasing 2D and laughs. Grateful for the young mans foggy mind.
"Neva mind." the Drummer sighs, slapping his hand over his face.
Later that night in his room. Russel sleepily slips between the bed covers and settles down for a good night sleep. As his mind drifts away a bright mist looms forth from him and Del appears, in all his glory.
"Ahhh." he sighs and scratches his ethereal stomach. "Much betta. Now! Where woz I?" he smiles and sets to work.