Achromatic

Chapter Twenty Four

Fear was an emotion that had controlled a majority of Murdoc's life.

From his abusive childhood, many years in various prisons, and being isolated on a deserted island, none of them compared to the distress he was currently experiencing now that he was home. For Murdoc, however, his home was not home at all. He was living in a realistic, lucid dream and was telling himself he would eventually wake up back in the motel room. 

It was as if the past and the present were being melded together to form a sort of toxic, warped state of being that was neither real or imaginary. Murdoc's own flashbacks were interfering with what he was seeing in front of him. Everything from the daylight pouring through the windows to the dust on the floor was all in his own head. The parts of the flat that were dark seemed to be darker. In other words, Murdoc had grown to be fearful of a lot of things. 

And out of all the things that scared him the most, his worst fear was sitting in the room right next to him.

Russel was known to be a calm and gentle individual, and Murdoc knew that for as long he had known him. However, he also knew the side of him that nobody would ever think of seeing. Murdoc was still shaken from Russel's outburst the day before, although he knew it was bound to happen the second he walked through the front door. Unpredictable as his behavior was, Murdoc knew that now was the right time to set things straight, no matter what the consequences would be.

Murdoc could not run any longer. It was time to face the fears that had taken control of his life.

Russel was still in the living room, although Murdoc did not know whether he had even left after Noodle told him to stay in there. He was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper next to the morning light. He looked so calm and content, the exact opposite of his mood the day before. 

Murdoc leaned against the wall opposite of the room. What was he going to say? A simple 'Hello?' Should he just walk in there like nothing had happened at all? Should he knock on the wall or tap his foot?

With these thoughts rambling through his head, Murdoc straightened up his posture and took in a huge breath. He took one step into the room, accidentally letting the floorboards beneath his foot creak. 

"Hey, Muds."

Murdoc froze where he stood. Russel looked up from his newspaper, his eyebrows immediately rising at the sight of the other man. The morning light that glistened through the window's thin drapes seemed to drift across the living room, giving Murdoc a sort of radiance all along his body. While the rest of the room was dim and shadowed, the natural sunlight hovered only on Murdoc and Russel.

"You're up earlier than usual," Russel said. 

Murdoc cleared his throat, trying to keep his nervousness down to a minimum. "Er, yeah, I guess I am."

Russel nodded his head, returning to his newspaper. Murdoc fidgeted where he stood outside the living room entrance, rubbing the sweat that was starting to form on his neck. For what seemed like 10 minutes or more, he remained fixed in the spot, trying not to look at Russel as he pretended to be absorbed in what he was reading.

"You gonna sit down or somethin'?" Russel asked after their period of silence. 

The sudden sound of the drummer's voice nearly made Murdoc jump from where he was standing. His neck began to sweat more, along with his forehead. He knew Russel was calm and collected from where he was, but the tension was still present between them.

"Well-I, if you don't mind," Murdoc uttered. "Do you?"

Russel repressed a sigh, putting his newspaper down next to him. "I'm not gonna hurt you, man. But I do want to talk with you."