Russel had chosen to go up to get food to eat, leaving me alone with the guest. I had volunteered to go up countless times but the drummer hadn't budged an inch, not allowing me to brave the hoards of undead waiting in Kong's upper levels.
I watched the lift's doors close and turned to the white figure with a glare. I only saw his eyes, but I couldn't tell of their color because of the shadows. "Why do you wear that stupid getup anyway?" I asked. He examined himself and shrugged.
"It's comfortable." He said in his throaty voice. I sighed and went to take a seat on the ground, he immediately followed suit.
"Tell me about Murdoc, is he a nice guy?" the Evangelist questioned. I looked at him and brushed my bangs into my face, hiding my eyes.
"He's… rough around the edges but overall a good person." He nodded, almost comforted by this fact. "Do you have a name?" I asked. "Why are you called the Evangelist?"
The man thought for a moment. "How do I say this?" he asked himself. Finally he turned his gaze on me with a shrug. "My real name is not to be given out at this time, but I was titled the Evangelist. It's just a part of who I am; your guitar is a part of you is it not?" I nodded tentatively.
"I suppose…" I said, not satisfied. "How are we going to rescue 2D and Murdoc?" I asked him.
"I have a plan that is not to be shared at this moment." He said apologetically.
"Is there anything that you can say at this moment?" I exclaimed, exasperated.
"In a few days we will be going to get them," The Evangelist said, directing his gaze onto the ground. Gunshots rang out above us and I stared idly at the ceiling, sending out a prayer to the rock gods that Murdoc and 2D were safe for now and not in immediate peril.
I fingered the inverted cross hanging around my neck and forced back tears, I would not cry in front of this man. I felt eyes on me and turned my gaze on the source, the Evangelist.
He was watching me intently. "You miss him." It wasn't a question.
"So?" I challenged. He shrugged.
"You love this man? You love Murdoc?" he asked. I nodded, holding my head high so he wouldn't think of me as ashamed of the bassist.
"I do." I replied.
"That's good, it's not often you encounter true, strong love. You have something special and I wouldn't blame you for wanting to fight for it." The Evangelist stated, picking at a stray crack in the asphalt. I nodded as another round of gunshots was fired above us where the kitchen should've been.
Eventually Russel came down, drenched in zombie blood. He could only scrape together a little food, and the Evangelist claimed he was hungry. I ate a few bites before giving the rest of my food to Russel, he was hungrier than I was…