Get ready for a very dark story. There will be light but there will also be dark, there will be violence and probably sex. If you don't want to see your favorite characters dragged through a very tough time don't read!

I appreciate this will have mixed reviews and I welcome them :)

I don't own South Park (Though I wish I did)

April 9th 1942

Kyle's POV

The cold morning air swirled around my red hair, I spat white froth onto the ground and stared at the red phlegm the speckled it. Leaning against the wooden shack I was living in and staring at the brick wall that forced me to stay, I sighed and shivered slightly against the cold.

We lived separate to the rest of the Germans. We were Germans too, we had lived here all our lives but to everyone else we were Jewish or black or homosexual. The Nazi's moved us to this walled in prison a couple of days ago, I was living with the rest of the Jewish and Negro workers in a small house packed with beds, there was nothing else except the basic possessions we had brought. I walked back inside, pulling my coat around me, another red head sat on a bed close to the door. She had one leg propped up and the other stretched out, she was laid back staring blankly up at the ceiling.

"How's your leg?" I asked her. She looked up at me and smiled weakly, wincing as she tried to move.

"I can't stand Kyle," She whimpered, clearly terrified yet trying to hide it behind a sarcastic laugh.

"It's alright Red," I rushed to Rebecca's side, stopping her from straining herself anymore.

She used to be my neighbour, before the Nazi's pulled us from our homes and ransacked our possession. I remember she cried to me for hours when we were in holding because they had stolen her Grandmothers locket and that was really all she had. I promised to look after her when we got here, I wasn't doing a very good job.

Whilst working the other day she had dropped a wheelbarrow of bricks on her foot, we had dragged her out of that place straight away. Her ankle was fractured at the very least and her foot had been badly cut, she needed a doctor but a doctor wasn't going to come. If anybody found that Rebecca wasn't fit for work she would be exterminated immediately. So now we kept her in hiding.

"I can't work Kyle," She looked like she was about to cry but I knew Red, she wouldn't if she could help it.

"Stay under the bed and I'll bring you something when I can," I laid a hand on her brow, it was fiery.

"Token," I shouted to one of the two black men in our area, "Come help me move Rebecca,"

Together we lifted the grimacing girl and slid her gently under the bed.

We went to work.

Kenny's POV

I watched from the sideline as Captain Cartman held a gun to a Jewish worker, the man had asked a question that didn't concern him, a careless mistake.

The Nazi party had promised new hope, new plans and a revolutions. Now I was trapped in a place that I didn't belong. I could do what I was asked but I never wanted to. I had lost people I once knew, I was loved, because they were Jewish or a different race or didn't agree with what was happening. Now they were nothing. Now, I was forced against them.

"Please sir, I didn't mean," The man moaned, tears burning tracks through the grime on his face.

I winced at the sight of Cartman making the man beg for his life, knowing full well he wasn't going to live. A lump formed in my throat as Cartman pulled the trigger and a silenced shot formed circular in the middle of the mans head. He slumped foreward and creased to the ground but it wasn't the man pleading for his life that Cartman had killed. It was an innocent bystander.

"McCormick," Cartman yelled and I stood to attention, "Deal with this filth,"

Cartman walked away with his whip clenched behind his back, a thick dark thing that ruined people. I wandered foreward, my face expressionless as I reached the man on his knees. I spared a glance to see if the Captain was looking, he was staring at me with a look of hatred for the Jew at my feet.

Aggressively I grabbed a handful of the man's greasy hair and began to beat him mercilessly, slamming my fist into his back and head, he grabbed at my legs and I kicked him off with my heavy boots, listening to the crunch of bone beneath my shoe.

The man lay crying at my feet, listening to the horrifying pleas for his wife and children. I let go of his hair and he dropped to the floor, weeping softly at his bruised body.

I retreated away but Cartman caught my arm, turning me towards him, his fat face invading my vision. Double chin spreading with his ghastly smile.

"You're not done yet McCormick," Cartman growled, grinning.

I smiled back wearily, trying to hide my contempt but I didn't want to look back. I didn't want to turn. I didn't ask for any of this. Yet still I took out the Luger from the long, buttoned up coat I was wearing. I coughed twice and adjusted my dark blue tie, smoothing my gelled back blonde hair and then replacing my cap on my head. Then I extended my arm behind me I shot the crying man in the head.

Stan's POV

"Stanley?" A voice cooed.

I woke up to the noise of a woman calling my name, sunlight crawled in and illuminated my eyes. I was in a bed, a bed with white linen sheets. I stretched lazily, like a cat and turned to look at the woman.

"Finally," She reached out and touched his face, "You're awake,"

Bebe was beautiful, her frizzy blonde her spilling over the pillow, blue eyes staring into mine. I smiled and kissed her on the forehead, she rolled from the bed and took with her the duvet to cover her naked body

I itched a scratch behind my ear, watching Bebe as she stared out the window of our apartment. I had to get up and write an article for the local newspaper, that was my job. However, when the hatred of the Jews began to become public the articles I was made to write became more and more heinous. I couldn't quit, if I lost my job I would lose the apartment and would soon be out of the streets, so I wrote the articles. But that's not what I had to write today.

"They're marching more people out today," She said matter of factly and I froze.

I rolled from the bed and pulled on a pair of trousers, flocking to the window. Sure enough even more Jews were being corralled into a walled exhibit like cattle. I was safe, since me and my girlfriend Bebe were Germans we were okay but a lot of our friends weren't. For every five Jews there was one Nazi soldier ushering them along with weaponry.

Stan couldn't help but realize how easy it would be for them to retaliate if they even the most basic of weapons.

"This is insane!" I yelled, my face growing red.

Throwing my hands up I turned from the window, knowing most of those people would die.

I felt Bebe wrap her arms around my waist, her cold cheek pressed against my back.

"It's not insane Stan, there's nothing we can do," She murmured against my back.

I wrapped my hands around hers and sighed deeply.

I loved Bebe but I knew she was turning a blind eye when she said there was nothing we could do and that sparked a rage inside me.

I wanted to do something and I knew that I could. I knew many people that had.

But they had died in the process.