Disclaimer: I do not own any of the following characters, they belong to south park.

Yay! My first post on fanfiction! I couldn't resist a Halloween story idea.

Hope none of the characters are too OOC.

Please read and review with any comments you want!

Happy Halloween! Enjoy the story.

The 31st of October. Halloween. A grossly over-commercialised holiday here in America. And as teenagers, we have moved from the days of trick-or-treating to the days of the Halloween party, where dressing up and drunken antics would surely take place.

Christophe and I had been invited to this party, although I had no intentions of getting drunk or committing random acts of sex, I would merely participate in the event due to political gains that would become apparent at future times.

Although, if I do say so myself, I look rather dashing in the officers costume I had acquired from my grandfather. Many war medals decorated my top, won during the great wars, in which my family was strongly involved. But all that matters is it looks respectable, another necessity for future political gains.

Christophe was also choosing the costume of a soldier, but I assume his outfit would more so portray a field soldier, who had been immersed in mud during the war. This assumption was due to the fact that it takes promises of certain acts to get him to bathe.

Just as I was slicking the last of my blonde locks into place, I heard a bang from downstairs. This was not so unusual as, even though he is a trained mercenary, inanimate objects often got in Christophe's way.

"Sheet"

Also not uncommon coming from the Frenchman. But the tone of urgency within that word was. I was just turning to ask what the problem was when I heard the single most dreaded noise that one who lives with a mercenary can hear.

Bang.

My heart began to pound against my ribcage as I left my room and began the quick descent downstairs. My breath was coming in puffs by the time I reached the bottom and quickly rushed to the living room door.

Time was at a standstill from that point on. My cold hand, with its delicate manicure, slowly approached the brass handle. A simple sweep of the wrist to turn the handle. The click as the catcher falls out of its place. And a slight push to open the heavy mahogany door. And a terrible sight to gaze upon.

The window was open, allowing the chilly October breeze to glide through. A piece of furniture, a couch perhaps, was overturned, its clawed feet out stretched towards the ceiling. And in the centre of the room, as though in his own spot light, was the love of my life, sprawled out with scarlet blood pooling about him on the floor.

I do not recall crossing the room, but in the next moment I was knelt beside my love, his blood soaking through the knees of my costume, my hand clasping his still warm hand.

I tried everything I knew to gain any signs of life from him. I shook him, I yelled at him, I kissed him. As much as I knew the facts, my heart had no desire to accept the stark truth. That 'Tophe was gone.

"Please 'Tophe...I need you...I...I love you"

I clung to his chest and let my head fall, but as the first sob escaped my I heard something I should have checked for in the first place. His pulse. And right now his heart was beating both strongly and steadily.

I let my now angry eyes wander up to his face. And just like I knew it would be, a smirk was placed on his lips and he was gazing down at me.

"Do you like my costume?" Eet ees a dead soldier"

And with that I stormed back to my room to try find new trousers that didn't have blood stains on them. And with a smirk of my own I called downstairs "And you're not getting any tonight"

"Sheet!"

Hope you enjoyed!

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