Murdoc walked into the living room with a bottle of black vodka in one hand and a stack of mail in the other. He began to look through the stack dropping them one by one onto the table.

 

“Letter to 2D. Letter to 2D. Bill. Letter to 2D. Satanist Today. Letter to Russel. Bill. Letter to Noodle. Interview request for 2D. You may have won a million pounds. Bill. Letter to 2D. Letter to me. What?”

 

He pushed the letter that covered his; he found it and picked it up in his rough hands. The letter’s envelope was once white; but now it was grimy and had specks of what looked of dry blood. There was no writing except his address in scratched writing; he carefully looked at every detail of the envelope as if to find some clue he could use to discover the sender. He began to open the letter…

“Any letters for me?” 2D said as he walked into the room. “Just the ones you sent to yourself, dullard.” Murdoc growled. He noticed the envelope Murdoc was clutching. “What’s that?” Murdoc just stared at 2D. “None of your bloody damn business,” He said as he left to his winnebago still holding the red speckled letter in his hands. “Murdoc?” 2D stared at the back of the fleeing bassist, with a confused but frighten look on his face.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Murdoc’s Winnebago

 

As he sat on his bed, he began what he had started in the living room, to open the letter. He noticed the single note. It was scribbled on a scrap of paper and looked written in a hurry.

 

Murdoc,

Midnight. Tonight. Come alone. You know the spot. We will be waiting, but not for long. It’s starting all over again.

 

The only other thing on the letter, other than the writing, was a blood-red thumbprint as a signature. He flipped the letter to see if there was more, yet he knew that there wasn’t. He knew that his past was coming back with vengeance.

 

~*~*~*~*~

Hope you guys dig this. Well you know where to go. Don’t worry there will be more. Once Murdoc gets his thumb red…(hint, hint). Later fellow dorks and dorkettes.