A/N:
Haven't written a story in a while. I don't know how this will turn out. I guess neither do you, so we'll be adventuring together!
/obligatory disclaimer here
And here. . .we. . go.
OoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO
"You sure you don't want me to stay?" Stan eyed his girlfriend, unaware if this was just another feminist act where she resisted to ever be seen as the inferior sex. A light breath of laughter mixed with an affectionate hand squeeze was Wendy's reply.
"I'll see you tonight - Bebe and I are just going to clean up and add some finishing touches."
Busily scowerging for some sort of outlet to plug in the fog machine, Bebe let out a mangled sound of agreement. This situation had definitely been a feminist act, as she had refused to accept any help from Kyle, Butters, Token, Clyde, or Stan - all who were persuaded into helping set up the annual Halloween Dance.
"Don't forget to wear your costume! Please don't make me a Pacman ghost without a Pacman."
"Don't worry about it, babe."
With a kiss from Stan and a brisk goodbye from Kyle, the two left the school, leaving Wendy and Bebe as its only inhabitants.
Or so they foolishly assumed.
The gymnasium of the school was drenched in black, orange, and blood red hues. The bulbs had been covered to emmit low, omnious lighting. A cookie cutter halloween dance was presented before them; this less than adequate display resulted in the fog machine that Bebe had finally plugged in. The mist left the machine like a whisper, creeping upon the floor and carressing Bebe's bare ankles as soon as she flicked it on. It spread out across the room in no time, impairing the blonde's vision enough for her to be completely oblivious of the figure who stood across the room, watching her. Not only until the figure swiftly moved from its daunting posistion over her, did Bebe feel an abnormality in the atmosphere. This was soon pushed aside, however, when she shrieked at the figure suddenly next to her, and was met with a triumphant smile off Wendy's glowing face
"I didn't know my ghost was that scary, B." Bebe gave her a no-nonsense sort of look, personally offended by her own sudden lack of courage in the situation and the amusement that danced with the ominous light reflected in her best friend's eyes.
Wendy's costume was fairly bright blue, and definitely noticable in the dark room. Bebe was usually so attentive to minor details wherever she was, and that abnormality glided across her skin and through her spine once more.
"I just feel weird," was all Bebe could manage. Understanding stepped in to the dance in Wendy's eyes, pushing amusement aside. The threatening bulbs still remained, leaving Bebe severely uncomfortable and with diverted eyes.
"In that case, why don't you work on the posters and I'll take over the more freaky stuff?" Wendy was referring to the cheap, yet effectively creepy, Halloween embellishments they planned to set throughout the gym.
"Sounds good, I'll just. . I'll be in the hall if you need be."
Entering in the flourescent lights was an abrupt change for Bebe, yet she couldn't shake this dark cloud that seemed to enshroud her being.
Halfway through working with red paint on a black poster to ever so eloquently replicate a look of blood, the lights above Bebe began to flicker. The mixture of her jitterynes and unreliable sources of light produced the spill of red paint across the poster.
"Shit!" Shameless profanity echoed throughout the hallway, reaching Wendy's ears through the propped open gymnasium door. She hurried out to greet an awfully dishelved blonde with red paint smeared all over her hands.
"Jesus Christ, I thought you just got killed or something," Wendy exasperated. "I don't like being in there for too long." Bebe offered up a twinge of a smile and gestured to the mess.
"Oh no! Want me to get you some new paper from the art supply closet? I wouldn't want you leaving red marks all over school. Besides, I don't think you're supposed to go to the bathroom alone in scary movies." The two grinned.
"Sure, thanks, Wendy."
"No problem, I'll be right back."
It wasn't until Wendy turned the corner that Bebe realized leaving an area in general by yourself and claming to be right back was also frowned upon in scary movies. The lights began twitching once more above her as soon as the thought crossed her mind, and she cursed the lack of wealth clearly evident in the school structure.
And then the lights stopped flickering.
And they were out.
Bebe felt a sharp pang of panic spiral thorought her body, as if stirring up the blood that her nervous heart was erratically pumping. She made an attempt to restrain her heartbeat, as if fearful that someone nearby may hear it. Bebe tried to ignore this thought, but it was all too powerful than before. This fear of someone else creeping through the empty hallways that she so vulnerable in not only angered her, but terrifed her to the core. The feeling was unlike anything that she had ever felt before; her blood boiled yet chilled at the same time. Her lips were dry and slightly parted, and a noiseless scream escaped her throat. She could not breathe, let alone cry out for help. What would she cry out for help for her, anyway? She was not in danger. It was only the dark that was haunting her.
Until she heard the distinct sound of footsteps against the cold, tile floor. It was not the same soft, gentle footsteps that belonged to Wendy. It was the sound of someone whistling paired with a determined, menacing stride that she had never heard before. But she definitely heard it, against the thumping of her chest and the soft whimpers that bubbled from within her.
Despite the darkness, she could hear the direction in which the steps were taking, until they were no more. Relief flooded her body, but it was soon replaced with absolute dread when she realized the footsteps had taken the same corner Wendy had.
Wendy.
She had no idea.
Bebe searched through her pockets to find her phone, but it was not there. Time could not be wasted now, so she bolt up from her spot and ran immediately into a wall. Her resilience fell through this time, and Bebe grabbed an electric candle in the gym before running back out towards the corner. She only hoped she wasn't too late.
The footsteps belonging to someone else was irrelevant now. Getting to Wendy was the top issue, even if it meant she was putting herself in danger. Light was seeping into her vision, and it was apparant that she was getting closer to the Art room. It didn't strike Bebe as odd that only the hallways where she was in was completely powered down, but perhaps it was because the fate of her best friend's life was in her hands.
The Art supply room door was closed, but was flung open by Bebe's still red drenched hands. As quickly as the door was opened, Bebe fell to her knees and a shudder of inaudible sobs heaved throughout her entire body.
Wendy lay before her, a tormenting liquid pooling around her vibrant blue costume. Some glitter that fell from the shelves sparkled throughout her blood, reflecting the lights off of it and making a show of the slumped over body that it was encasing. Bebe let out screams of fury and pure despair, crawling towards her best friend's pale skin, disregarding the way her kneecaps sludged through Wendy's blood and the feel of her drained life against her own.
"No, no, no, no, NO." Bebe rocked her body back and forth, brushing aside her hair and gently touching her face. Her hands were still stained red from earlier and the sight of the color caused her chest to heave even deeper than before. Bebe whispered apologies into Wendy's mopped hair and tried her best to control the flury of emotions she was experiencing.
The whistling sound from afar halted Bebe's last breath and froze her in posistion, leaving her to clutch Wendy's limp body in fright, as if she could console her after she's been killed. Now Bebe noticed the obvious slash marks within the costume and the basis for the leaking blood out of the brunette. Slowly, Bebe released her with much disdain and stood. The Art supply was awfully confined and held no lock. She was easy prey if she remained in the room.
Like before, she flung the door open and also like before, she ran into the arms of a strong figure. She flailed against the body, with every muscle she had moving in an opposite direction than the other.
"Bebe! It's me!" The flailing only decreased a small amount and Bebe's terrified eyes met Token's dark ones.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Token ignored the question, his gazed now directed towards the corpse that was strewed behind the blonde. His eyes widened and a strangled sentence left his lips. He noted the way blood was painted across Bebe's skin and mistook the actual red paint on her hands for blood.
"Is that. . Is that Wendy? Is she okay? What did you do?" Token was frantic with as many questions as Bebe had, now, and the same accusing tone was in his voice.
"WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE?"
"I left my iPad here. .I . ." His words tumbled off his lips and a stunned expression was cemented on. When Bebe caught site of the metal protrubing from his gut, she shakingly backed up with her legs full of lead.
Token's knees buckled forward to reveal a tongue lapping the blood from the blade elegantly.
"B-butters?" Bebe stated. She didn't ask.
"Bebe. . Oh Bebe, you should know better than to try to run from your fears." She shook her head, refusing to be weak.
"You sick motherfucker, you killed Wendy." Bebe delivered a blow to Butter's balls, followed by a swing at his head.
"FUCK YOU!" She yelled, as she sprinted away. She needed to get out. Now. Before he hurt anyone else. Drenched in sweat and fear, she tried sprining the nearest exit open but it was locked. Not simply key locked, but the whole fucking nine yards chain and padlock type of locked. No windows were present in the doors, and as she began to discover, no window was not barred and no classroom was left unlocked. Bebe knew she should have been suspicious earlier of his whereabouts, but he was the sort of person that you could never recall if he was there or not.
"Aw hamburgers, Bebe, you've got me actually trying to kill your blonde ass."
Somehow he had tracked her down. He was a stealthy figure always in the corner of her eye that she escaped barely before he could enclose her. She was already enclosed, however. He had managed to lure her back into the dark hallway where she had first heard his deafeaning footsteps. This was not the same Butters she grew up with. This was a different, sort of chaotic Butters with a passion of death that she saw in his eyes.
Refusing to let him win, Bebe escaped through the open door of the gym, into the swam of mist that envoloped her. She hid behind the butler serving a tray of treats in the corner and witnessed Butters simply stride into the area as if this was an all too familar scenery.
"Is this really your best choice, Bebe? Wandering into the place where you feel the least comforted?" His voice had no threat into it. He almost genuinely sounded concerned for her safety. If he hadn't been wielding a machete in one hand, she perhaps would have believed him.
He was nearing. Bebe sunk below the fog and traveled to stand near a knight by the snack table. He was not convienently in posistion in the corner like she had wanted, but that's not why she chose him. She chose him for the sword that was gripped in his hands. She wouldn't go without a fight.
Butters shifted his gaze immediately at the sound of her movement and quickened his pace.
"Bebe, DON'T FIGHT IT. YOU DIE TONIGHT." The shudder in his voice was unmistakenable, as was the frustration. Bebe always had a knack of pissing people off. She gained it from Wendy, perhaps. The thought of her was a blow to the chest and a supplement to the range already steadily building within her. She tossed an empty punch bowl at her attacker, the glass shattering against him. If he wasn't upset already, he was now.
"You fucking whore." he uttered.
Bebe took this as a queue to lunge the sword into Butter's gut, like he had with Token. Her hand was shaky, but it was enough force to pierce him all the way through. When Butters' body dropped, Bebe did so with the sword as well. She stumbled out of the gym, her face stricken with grief and tears. She had won this battle. She most definitely did. She had no idea where the fuck her phone is or how she was going to get out, but she survived. Her best friend was dead along with another of her friends, but that was something she could handle later. Right now, she was alive. She was so thankful for that.
Which is why when she felt her hand being forced to grip something, she was horrified. She saw Butters tightly encasing her hand in his own around his fucking machete, but she was too shocked to do anything. She had won. This had to have ended already, but it hadn't. It ended when Butters, with a merry grin, helped Bebe plunge the machete into her chest and swiftly take it out. He kissed her foreheard gently and slammed her with his dying strength against the wall. The unsuspecting killer closed his eyes for the last time, a satisfactory taste of Token and Wendy's blood with Bebe's sweat and last hopes on his lips. The even more unsuspecting victim slumped against a wall with Butters' machete in hand, knowing she had failed.
A few hours later when the doors are forced open, the bodies of four South Park High students are found. Wendy, Token, Butters, and Bebe have all died from the same means, but there was much controversy between who was the killer. Bebe was found with the machete, yet Butters had died from a different weapon.
Having known Butters and his happy go lucky self, fellow classmates attested to his innocence and the impossibility of him committing such a crime.
The final ruling of the case was a murder-suicide committed by Bebe Stevens, who had simply snapped one dark and dreary Halloween night.
OoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO
Sorry Token, for doing the whole blackguyalwaysdies thing.
Thanks for reading :)