The loud thunk resonated between the two captives, filling them with dread and horror. The darkness swallowed their forms and all that surrounded them, leaving only a small crack of light barely visible at the feet of the door. In a frantic frenzy, Wendy Testaburger rose and ran towards the door, pounding at it until she could feel her hands numbing from the frozen ice stuck on the metal surface of the doors. Wendy, after long minutes of screaming for help and hearing laughter from outside of the metal doors, she could felt a horrible wave of fear flood her. She leaned against the metal door, face forward and cried into it. Eric Cartman, in the meanwhile stood frozen where he was, still in shock of the betrayal that was planned against him. He was the leader of a grand occult that used tactics of intimidation and robbery to meet the needs of the organization. He started the occult for simple monetary gain, bribing in members with money or some sort of askew and twisted belief, and it soon spread like wildfire farther than he could ever imagine. It spread so far that the members who believed in whatever demented cause the organization stood for were clever enough to realize Eric's true intentions, cutting him from the bud of the organization before it became more powerful than it already was.

Eventually Eric broke free from his trance of shock and heard the soft sobs of the woman he had forever loved. He looked over to his left and saw nothing but a vague form kneeling on the floor and against the door. He could hear her voice shivering through the sobs. It was a painful noise, the song of a hopeless bird. He sighed deeply and spoke in a harsher tone than he intended.

"Get up." He said. "You're not going to solve a thing by crying."

She continued to sob. He never liked seeing her broken or weak. Like Eric attempts with Kyle, he had always aimed to break Wendy down into a pathetic pit of despair, but never would he thought that neither he nor anyone could ever succeed. This heartbreaking sound was a grave reminder that she was not some perpetually enduring pillar that stood tall and strong and could never be broken. She was human and she was both as weak as she was strong.

He knelt down to her and softly touched her shoulder. "Wendy…" He said breathlessly and gently.

"NO!" She growled as she pushed him away from her. He fell on his ass against the frozen marble floor. "This is your fault! If it wasn't for you…" She gritted her teeth in rage and her voice broke in sorrow. Her offensive stance dissipated into one of despair and grief. "I might actually die here."

This was true. Adventures for the now young adults in South Park were not simply console wars on Black Friday and alien anal probes. It was now an entirely new and dangerous field these characters were playing in, and Eric (as always) took it too far near the edge. Today might be the day that he finally tipped himself over the edge and into oblivion, taking the woman he loved with him. The cult's members were ruthless and unforgiving and it would be a wonder if they lived.

"You're the one who came to me!" Eric reminded Wendy.

"I never thought…"

"You never thought what!?" Eric said in a low and dangerous tone. He had actually, to everyone's surprise, grown to be an intimidating and psychotically unpredictable character. He was a very dangerous and callous fiend at worst and an annoyance at best. "You would be safe because you're Wendy fucking Testaburger? You knew the risks that were at stake."

She could feel Eric tower directly above her, his kneeling form stretching over her sitting form. His dark and vague silhouette was menacing and his voice was low and treacherous. What Eric loved most about Wendy was that he knew he sometimes scared her greatly but that she still stood firm in place and continued to challenge him. That was true bravery, and that was precisely what she did at this very moment.

"No, I didn't." She reminded him. "I was misinformed with your careless lies. And look where that got us."

"I was trying to…" He yelled in rage, stopping midsentence.

"Trying to what!?" She yelled. "I think I deserve to know before I fucking freeze to death in a meat locker in a shady restaurant run by delinquent, fanatic thugs!"

"You knew the organization's methods, you knew their goals, and you knew their fucking betrayal if they found out that I'm not a believer." He argued.

"I didn't know you were actually shuffling drugs to fund the organization, and I would have never thought that even you were as low as to threaten the lives of families. This cult was turning into a mafia under my nose without me knowing."

"I didn't start that shit." Eric admitted. "But I couldn't stop it and risk the members being suspicious and hostile towards me."

"Good fucking job on that." She clapped bitterly and sarcastically. "You dodged the fucking subject by the way. What were you trying to do by not telling me, you lying bastard?"

"I was trying to…" He might as well spit it out. He would die here anyways. "…protect you. The less you know the better chances you have of dodging danger." He laughed bitterly to himself. "Like it fucking matters now."

Her anger dwindled slightly as he said that. She felt a tear stream down her cheeks. Thankfully it was too dark for him to notice. "Why the fuck would you even give a damn about anyone but yourself." She tried to keep herself sane by reminding herself that Eric Cartman was a sociopathic, manipulating, self-serving asshole.

Eric has resigned all hope of escaping. It was him that taught his members that in order to gain respect and ground, they mustn't be afraid to be ruthless and do what needs to be done. The irony that his instructions would backfire on him never occurred to him. He was going to die in this hellhole and inadvertently take her life as well. She might as well know. He might as well tell her. They were doomed regardless. "I've loved you ever since the third grade." The words were dry and hung above them in its bare and raw nature.

She let what was said to her sink in. It wasn't true. He was trying to throw her off. It didn't make sense… it couldn't make sense. He made her life miserable. Even when she came to him with an offer he couldn't refuse to exchange for her protection, he treated her like dirt. Then again… there were times when his gaze lingered on her longer than necessary. There were times when he put himself between her and a member that accused her of treachery, defending her and vouching for her. There were times when the sexual tension between them was so intense that even she couldn't deny it. Could he really have loved her for so long? She stood silent and the silence carried on for what seemed a lifetime.

Finally she broke it. "Why?"

He sat there, in front of her and near the door, his hands and chest far too frozen for him to resist shivering as she did. "Because you're strong." He answered. "And blunt, and hypocritically self-righteous."

She scoffed, offended.

"And warm in every sense of the word. You have that passion in you that I've never seen in another woman." He paused slightly. "You're beautiful."

Wendy was completely taken aback. All of this time, he wasted it by attacking her, lashing out on her, and humiliating her. For the first time in many years, she saw a side to him that was vulnerable and human. She shook her head in disbelief.

"You're such a fool." She finally said, breathlessly and in tears.

Long minutes passed and the two of them shivered violently, hugging themselves for warmth. Wendy could hear Eric's teeth clatter in the dark and in front of her. She heard him lean over to his hands and breathe on them heavily, huffing any sort of warmth he could muster onto them. She reached out and found his hands. They were ice cold and shaking. He tensed up at her touch, but she held his hands and rubbed them anyway, making warmth for the both of them to share. He just stared at her, the glowing outlines of her nose and cheek, a vague eye popping from the dark. He ripped one hand from her grasp and reached for her cheek in front of him. He cupped it tenderly, stroking her cheek bone with his thumb. Her face was cold and stiff. Her hand held the hand that held her cheek, her long fingers gingerly caressing his hand. He felt a tear hit his thumb, sinking into his palm. All he could do was pull her into his arms and hold her as she cried on him, each sob breaking his heart and remind him of the fault he bore. She was going to die and it would be his fault. They were both going to die, just when she seemed to have accepted his feelings for her. How cruel.

He shushed her in a soft whisper, holding her head in his hands, his fingers intertwined in her long and sleek black hair. His other hand held her back, pressing her against him, his face buried in her neck. She was sitting on his lap, harms encircling him and hands clasping at his back, her head under his chin and her cheek against his warm chest.

Some say that was how they died.