-1 The brown paper bag clinked back and forth like wind chimes as the liquor bottles it contained swung back and forth and clanked against each other. Murdoc seemed to glide down the snow dusted street with his brown paper bag in hand like a ghost in mourning but not able to find his body. His expression was lost and forlorn, and passerby glanced at him with something like pity in their eye. It was apparent to everyone, Murdoc Niccals had hit rock bottom.

His breath flowed from his lips in a opaque cloud as he sighed. Murdoc had no direction as of late. Izzie hadn't contacted him in a week, nor had 2D. Noodle had sent the occasional text message but she seemed busy with something or other. Murdoc would open a message to Russel from time to time, staring at the empty space and fumbling for the words to say. He'd type something but it just didn't seem exactly right. There was nothing he could say, nothing he had to say. Murdoc had realized in his thinking time, which he unfortunately had a lot of nowadays, that he was wrong in the way he had treated 2D. That Murdoc really was this creature from Hell, and that Russel was perhaps the only person intelligent enough to recognize that he wasn't worth the time of day or the blessing of a breath. He wanted desperately to apologize to Russel but didn't know just how to do it, or if Russel would even take the time to listen. Murdoc could understand if the gentle giant decided not to.

His chance came when he entered his apartment, dropping his coat to the floor and gliding ghostlike to his computer. The screen blinked with a Skype message and Murdoc squinted, surprised at the fact that someone was making contact with him. His heart, well 2D's, sank and then surged forward at the same time upon seeing Russel's name above the message. It simply read, "Muds?", but Murdoc was grateful for any chance to talk to Russel and tell him just how he was feeling.

"I haven't talked to you in a while," Murdoc replied, trying to act nonchalant and hide the fact that he was slowly losing his mind.

"Let me call you."

Russel appeared on screen, huddled over a laptop that was laying on the floor. From what Murdoc could see behind him there were rats chirping about and towers of overflowing cardboard boxes. One dingy naked light bulb provided the light and it was swinging back and forth, which caused Russel to go in and out of visibility. It was kind of creepy to see him for the first time in about three months. He had grown a matted knot of facial hair from being hauled up in Ike Turner's basement. The large and usually kind Russel now looked like a sleep deprived psychopath. His eyes were wider and even more milky than ever and it was apparent that more than the ghosts of his former friends were circling around him. Russel looked as disturbed and broken as Murdoc felt.

"Muds, I have to talk to you. It's urgent. I mean, I still hate you and you're still a douche bag, but I really ought to tell you this." Russel stammered, his voice a hoarse whisper probably from lack of use.

"Wot is it Lards? You're scaring me." Murdoc couldn't help himself, he went back to his old habits despite his desperate situation.

Russel leaned closer to the computer as if telling Murdoc a secret. "There's a demon after you, and Satan wants you. Dead."

Murdoc choked back a dramatic gulp. "Who tha fuck told you dat?"

" 'D. He hasn't been able to get to your dreams but he came to me and told me. Apparently Satan's taken over the connection to your dreams and all that. But yeah, he's really fucking mad at you Muds. Can't say I blame him, you're an asshole." Russel sighed.

Murdoc was ready to start screaming his head off like he used to but he had an inclination to ask Russel about Izzie. "Does Faceache know anything about Izzie?"

"He did say something about her actually. You better find her Muds, cause she'll be your definite bait to Satan. 'D says he knows how much you care about her. I couldn't believe it. You care about some bitch?" Russel raised an eyebrow over his uncanny milky eye.

Murdoc dismissed Russel, he was done talking. "Alright Lards I got some grocery shopping to do. 'Ave a nice fucking day." he mockingly waved at his webcam before closing the conversation and dramatically whirling around in his desk chair. He had no idea what to do and where to start. He had no idea where Izzie was or where that moronic demon Greg would strike first. Murdoc had some experience with cheating Lucifer and death but he felt that this would be harder than past experiences. Satan knew Murdoc owed him for sacrificing that one person who would willingly do anything for him. Satan was no charity, he expected anything and everything in return for even the slightest "favors" he performed.

The first place Murdoc decided to investigate for any signs of Satan or Greg was the place of cheap lust and evil itself, the local strip joint. Not only could his visit possibly lead him in the right direction to Greg but he might just be able to enjoy himself a little bit. The smell of watered down perfume and sweaty skin hit Murdoc like a wall when he opened the tall sparkly pink doors. He felt right at home and he had to resist sinking into a booth with a busty brunette who was eyeing him. Murdoc shook his head to keep himself focused, he was trying to work.

He took a seat at the center of the establishment in an empty booth, looking around for anything at all that seemed out of the ordinary or extremely sinister. It was hard to distinguish what was straight out of Hell and what was just scummy by Earth standards. There were the creepy dinosaurs with liver spots on their balding heads still trying to get some action and there were the heroine addicts trying to hide their needs from the bouncers by sliding underneath the table slightly. Murdoc rolled his eyes and looked in a different direction. What he saw made his jaw drop.

His brain couldn't even fathom what was happening right now. Izzie…in a corset…swirling around that cold metal pole like a raging python. Her blonde hair flowing behind her back and her blue eyes catching the light like small stars. Murdoc stared in pure shock. His heart sank, he couldn't even begin to understand what she was doing up there. Sure she had lost her job, and because of him especially, but stripping just seemed…not her. She wasn't like the other strippers, her body was average, not extremely toned or emaciated. She didn't have fake boobs or lip implants. Izzie was an average girl and beautiful in the average girl kind of way. She just didn't fit on the pole aesthetically. Her wide hips, small and delicate feet, clumsy little hands, they just didn't fit to Murdoc on the pole. He couldn't watch any longer, he had to get her down.

"Izzie! Wot the fuck are you doin'?" Murdoc hopped onto the platform despite the boo's and retorts from the audience. He politely flipped them all off before gently taking her hand and leading her off the stage. "Why are you doin' that love?"

Izzie looked completely devastated to see Murdoc. Her expression of shock quickly melted to one of annoyance and anger. "What the fuck do you think you're doing here, dragging me offstage and telling me I don't belong up there? This is my JOB Muhdoc! You made me lose my other one so I fink I deserve dis one." she tried to storm away but he held her by her arm.

"Izzie, just please, hear me out. I made this deal with the devil that he would kill off my friend and give me his heart so that I could survive. Now he's out for revenge and he wants to kill me so he'll stop at nothing to get me to him. He knows that I care about you and I just don't want you to get hurt." He didn't even take a breath as he hastily explained the situation to her. Murdoc could hardly think of the implications of telling her about his dealings with the devil because he needed to get everything out on the table as fast as possible.

She blinked, "You care about me? I didn't expect that from you." she smirked at him and chuckled lightly. "Murdoc Niccals the womanizer cares about me."

"I'm not proud of it." he narrowed his eyes. "I can't see you like this." he slipped off his sweater and jammed it into her hands. She raised her eyebrows and chuckled once again before sliding Murdoc's sweater over her head.

"Aren't you cold?" she murmured, glancing at him in a wife beater and resisting the urge to reach out and touch his bare arm.

" 'M fine love. We gotta get out uf here though." he made to grab her hand but she was against him before he could react.

"Kiss me you slut." The lights went out. Screams. And Izzie was gone.

-Chapter 8 Fin-

Author's Note: I'm back! Junior year is killing me dude, but I'm so happy to be writing this again. I was in a good mood because I got my license today so I decided to write. I'm hoping to be able to get on more since my AP classes end Thursday so all I have to worry about is Anatomy. I think I can do it. Thanks guys!