Chapter Four: Pain Donkey
Murdoc had always had a reputation of turning any kind act forced upon him by the courts into utter chaos. Taking care of Stu was not any different, over the months of caring for the kid he couldn't help, but torture him. Sometimes he would hit him for staring at him, hit him when he was drunk, kick him if he scared off a one night stand, or just torture him because nobody would stop him. When he'd find out the boy's mom was coming by he would make sure the bruises were covered well and that the boy was in good condition. He barely spoke to the woman, he generally avoided her actually. He couldn't stand being there; it made him remember his own mom, the one that cared about him. That was one of the other reasons he would beat the boy, it was pathetic, but he would sometimes burn his arm or hand because he hated that Stu got a mom who loved him. Why did that blue haired potato get two loving parents and all the love in the world, while Murdoc sat in grime hoping to never again see the father who ruined his life.
"Come on dullard, down ya go." He said as he pushed the boy's head down under the water.
It was bath time; Murdoc didn't completely hate bathing Stuart. The boy was extremely tall and painfully thin, but quite beautiful. He felt odd thinking such a thing especially about another male, one he had hit with his car. The other reason he didn't hate it was because on occasion he would just hold his head under the bath water until he began flailing frantically. It never lasted too long though, he'd pull him back up, and Stu would wrap his long arms around him clinging to him tightly like Murdoc had just saved his life. After that he would usually smack him for being grateful to such cruel treatment.
He didn't think he could ever understand how this boy worshipped him when he had to know this was the same man hurting him.
"Yer mum would kill me if she knew I did this stuff to ya." He said as he pulled the shaking boy from the bath and sat him down on the floor.
It took some work to pry Stu's arms off of him, he may have been thin, but he was quite strong.
He went to work drying him off then dressing him, he was always careful dressing him. He tried to avoid looking at his body too much and avoided touching certain parts of him, Murdoc didn't like men that way, but sometimes he couldn't help, but think about the younger man that way. It was sick, he was sick; the guy was out of it.
He pulled him back up to his feet and guided him back into the living room where he lay him onto the couch.
"I had a mum like her once, not my real one though….Never knew her…This one was one my old dad had picked up, beautiful woman. She never thought I was a bad kid or nothin', she always took care of me, made sure my dad couldn't find me when he was drunk, and patched me up when kids at school beat on me…They were always such pricks, callin me dullard and faceache…Fuckin' bastards….My dad ran her off, finally got too drunk, punched her, and threatened to cut her if she didn't leave…I cried for days after that…"
He laughed and shook his head trying to make the memory go away.
"Hadn't told anybody that before, probably never will again…"
He looked at the boy, at his nearly lifeless eyes, that stupid look.
"You don't understand nothing I say anyways, so why's it matter?"
Over the past few months he'd told thousands of things to Stu. He'd told him how he never had any real friends, about all of his bands, his deal with Satan, his rock star dreams, and his childhood traumas. Sometimes he swore that the boy understood everything that he was saying, maybe it was just him being psychotic.
"I don't know why I am the way I am….No that's not right, yeah I do…Stupid….When I was fourteen the school thought I seemed a bit off, course hitting puberty young, and spendin' all yer time smokin' isn't right to them….They forced me to go see a shrink, my dad didn't care none either way. They said it was best and he just thought whatever about it, they said I got schizophrenia…Said by the time I'm in my late forties I should be completely outta it, I'm in my thirties now…Y'know how fucked that is? They weren't too nice when they told me either, just blank like robots or somethin'. Fuckin' doctors, Fuckin school….That's why I hit ya, y'know, why I get in fights all the time…Other reasons too, but just I can't control how I feel…I just get real angry and…."
He looked at the boy, his blank gaze, and his arm that hung over the side of the couch limply.
"Never mind, I think I'm more crazy just talkin' to a zombie boy than I am for havin' my mental defect….I'm goin' to the pub, I suppose you'll be fine here by yerself…Not like ya do anything anyways, just fuckin' stare off like tat all the time."
He needed alcohol and possibly a lay; he had only really left the house to do things related to the blue haired little freak. Sometimes he would try to go get some broad even a hooker once or twice, but the moment they saw Stu they would go quiet and just leave. They reacted like the girls in horror flicks when they first see the monster, no matter what the thing is really like they all still freak out, and run for the hills crying bloody murder. Murdoc needed out though and the company of somebody who just wanted to take from him instead of stare at him with worship.