South Park - The Voices Beneath
Author's Foreword: I've been mulling this story over for at least a year now. I had an original plot worked out that I didn't do much with since I wanted to work on other projects first, and after returning from over a year-long hiatus, noticed there was another story with a similar central plot. So, not wanting to be the one repeating what's already been done, the plot has been revamped. A lot. This story will take into account many things inside the show up to the present broadcast episode, which is "Cartman Finds Love." Anything thereafter may or may not come into play. I will also be expanding on, adding, removing, and changing certain things as I see fit.
Disclaimer: South Park and all related characters and ideas are (c) Matt Stone and Trey Parker; other copyrighted characters and ideas are property of their respective license holders. Any original content, plot ideas, etc. are of my own work and not being used for profit.
The following story will contain strong language, adult themes, bad puns and copious amounts of unadulterated madness.
Enter at your own risk.
Arc 1 -MEMENTO MORI
I am Mysterion. Though only seventeen years old, I dedicate my life to helping people - when I'm not in school. For years now I've been protecting my town from crime. A few years ago, something happened that even I could not fight alone. In the process of multiple drilling accidents, the oil company BP accidentally unleashed the dark lord Cthulhu. I joined forces with other superheroes in my neighborhood to help save the Gulf. But even the other heroes did not know that unlike them, I do have a power. A power they would never begin to understand. Despite my hardest efforts, the nature of my power remained a mystery, even to me. Things didn't go as planned.
They never do.
Once Cthulhu was banished back to the hell he came from, things went back to normal... sort of. The appearance of the dark deity seemed to be the push some of the less stable people of Colorado needed to step into real villainy. Suddenly, people needed real heroes, not the fake, angsty half-assed saving they got from "Captain Hindsight".
So we stepped up.
The funny thing about South Park is that even though it seems like a typical small town, it's really not. I can't even explain to you the literally insane things I've witnessed in my short lifetime. The strange things that happen here are always explained away as delusion, and dismissed just as quickly. Though there are only a few of us that answer the call, we are a collection of uniquely-powered individuals. In the public eye we're dismissed as vigilantes, psychos and even criminals. But as far as we're concerned, we're just a group of high school kids.
But now I feel that something is coming, something that will test us all. Whether or not we survive is another matter entirely.
I am the leader of a group of heroes. The town we live in is full of idiots and bigots, but we, a group of teenagers, have chosen to rise above the stupidity and intolerance. We are the watchers that protect our town, our county, and our state. We are the League of heroes.
For Appearance's Sake
The day started as it always did... Sort of. When the boys would look back on the morning though, they would all agree they should have seen the signs. Kenny McCormick woke much earlier than usual, rather than sleeping until the last minute as he did every school day; it was well before the sun rose. On good days, his father would still be dead asleep by the time Kenny left the house, after a night of imbibing liquor and illicit substances with his eldest son, smacking each other around a bit, and finally passing out in his filth-laden room across the hall from Kenny's. The McCormick's shabby, unkempt house was a horrible reflection of the poverty in which Kenny, along with his older brother Kevin and his younger sister Karen, were forced to live in. To many in their situation, theft and narcotics were usually the answer to the horrible life they endured. And for Kevin, this was true.
However for Kenny and Karen, they had proved defiant of what was expected of their impoverished social standing.
Unfortunately when Kenny woke that morning, both his father and brother were awake, though they would probably reserve their typical inebriated shouting for when the other two children had gone off to school. Stuart McCormick sat in their grubby kitchen at the grubby table, holding a grubby mug of what smelled like reheated stale coffee, muttering something in an almost-whisper to Kevin, who stood beside the counter holding a bowl of cereal and responding in equally-hushed murmurs, his voice muffled by the presence of food in his mouth.
Upon entering the kitchen, rubbing his dark blond head to shake away the lingering sleep, Kenny wasn't the least bit suspicious when both Stuart and Kevin suddenly went silent. He was still too tired to give a damn, and fuck, why should he? They hardly paid him any mind anyway. Kenny blinked a few times, then inhaled in a wide, unabashed yawn. "Morning."
"Mornin' Ken," his father said evenly, anxiety almost imperceptible in the end of his voice. Kevin didn't say anything, simply grunted and continued noisily chewing the crunchy cereal with feigned disinterest at his brother's sudden appearance in the kitchen. "You're up pretty early today. Goin' to school?"
Still bleary-eyed from sleep, Kenny shrugged. "Yeah I guess, what time is it?"
"5:15. You don't have school for another three hours."
Kenny rubbed his face in annoyance. What the hell had woken him so early in the morning? Despite the fact that he studied his ass off (when he wasn't busy working or out doing extracurricular er... work) Kenny never seemed to mind being a little late to class, especially since it was almost always due to sleeping a little late. His nighttime work seemed to keep him out of bed until the small hours of the morning. His first hour teacher, a sweet old lady with hearing problems, never seemed to notice his tardiness. Though Kenny suspected that one of the other three boys that made up his core group of friends probably mimicked his muffled affirmation of attendance when he was late, they'd never confirmed his suspicions, and he never really cared enough to pry. Today, however, would be different. Looking back on it, Kenny wished he would have gone back to bed.
Instead he pulled open the fridge, intent on starting the day, albeit earlier than usual. The sparse contents of the refrigerator held only a few items that could safely be ingested without fear of poison, but Kenny was good at picking out what was safe to eat and drink. He pulled out a carton of orange juice and shook it. Only a glass-full if he was lucky, so rather than trying to find a clean cup to dump the orange liquid in, he instead tipped it straight into his mouth. The contents drained, he pitched the empty container in the nearest bin and shuffled back down the hall into the bathroom. It was time to get ready for the coming downpour of final exam bullshit.
South Park High was in the full swing of studies. The end of the year was upon them, and all that was left was final exams. Students spent most of their time huddled around library tables piled with notes and books, in small groups in unused classrooms, or sprawled out on floors of living rooms, looking for ways to cram one more little piece of information into their already-info-saturated brains. The end of junior year meant it was time to prepare for a life after high school, which for many, including Kenny, meant college, a job, a house, maybe a family. He hadn't planned that far ahead. Right now he was just focusing his very hardest on getting into college. That and a few other things that occupied his time.
Other things had taken a back seat to studying though. It was only for a week, but to him, it felt like years. Years that dragged on slower than even the most gruesome torture imaginable. And Kenny knew plenty about torture. And death. And pain.
But mostly death.
He quickly stripped down and stepped into the immediately-cold shower. The icy water blasted him wide awake, in time for the water to heat to an acceptable bathing temperature. "Fuck that was cold," he growled to no one in particular, and went about scrubbing. The last ten minutes of his shower he spent standing there, water beating down on his face, lost in thought. It was only then that he noticed his father and brother had woken several hours before they normally would. And they were sitting in the kitchen, sober, in each other's company. And that they'd been holding a whispered conversation before Kenny had interrupted.
They never whispered, let alone around Kenny. What the fuck had they been talking about?
By the time 6 am rolled around, he had already dressed, eaten a bite of stale toast, and made sure Karen was awake early enough to eat a proper meal and get ready for school, and completely forgotten about the conversation in the kitchen.
Karen McCormick was as close to innocent as a teenager would ever be. She was sweet, kind-hearted and honest, loyal to a fault and sharp as a tack. Kenny adored his little sister much as any sibling, or even parent, could adore. She was the guiding light, the anchor that rooted him when sometimes the pain was too much to handle. She had once called him her Guardian Angel - a name he took wholly to heart. Where Kenny could sometimes be a loose cannon, Karen was the calming, gentle touch he sometimes needed.
"I'll see you after school, right Kenny?" she asked in her sweet voice. Being two years behind her older brother, they still attended the same school, but their paths rarely crossed, much to the chagrin of Kenny. Often he'd see her at lunch, but not today. She was planning to take an advanced placement test at lunch. He smiled at his little sister and cupped her shoulder. She was washed and groomed, having taken up Kenny's own habit of odd jobs for extra cash to buy her own clothes, so as to avoid being stuck in the dirty, horrible rags they were provided by some government drone who doled out crappy canned food and used clothes so he could pick up a paycheck and a tax break.
"I'll be there, Karen. Good luck on your tests today, do us proud." She grinned angelically and slipped out the front door to the honks of her ride.
-x-0-x-
It had been almost two years since the last time Kenny had walked to the bus stop to await the arrival of the bus with his three closest friends (Eric Cartman notwithstanding). Maybe closer to a year and a half. By the time Stan (the oldest of them by about two months) had turned sixteen, he'd already had a vehicle lined up. Granted, it was a veritable piece of shit, but at the time the boys were enamored with the old rusted 15-year-old beige sedan. It was a car. A car he was allowed to drive all by himself, thanks to his brand-spankin'-new (at the time) driver's license. So instead of being forced to endure a miserable bus ride, they boys could instead pile into the car, huddle around the barely working air conditioning vents (it was either way too hot or way too cold, never a happy medium) and make their way to school.
On days Kenny would sleep in, he'd sprint to school, and lately, that was often.
So finding Kenny at the bus stop, which was their their meeting place as it was a central point between all four houses, earlier than ever definitely put Kyle off.
"Dude, you're early," he said upon arriving, wearing his signature green ushanka and a bright orange hoodie, which would zip up the front if Cartman hadn't busted the zipper some months back.
Kenny greeted him with tiredness still hanging on his voice. "How'd it go last night?"
"Well enough I guess," he replied, and rubbed his face to relieve it somewhat of the sleep-laden feeling he still had. "Wish I'd have gone back to bed though. Can't even remember why I'm up this early." The concerned expression on Kyle's face gave him pause. "What?"
"Nothing it's just... well considering last night, I figured you'd want to get more sleep. We have our first three exams today, think you'll make it?"
"Stan said he's bringing coffee from work, I'll be fine with a good dose of caffe-" A wide yawn interrupted him. "Ugh... maybe two doses. I'll be good."
"Whatever you say dude."
"Hey assholes!" came the greeting of their portly in-denial-friend as he almost literally waddled to stand beside them. Kenny snorted in laughter, but stifled it quickly upon Cartman shouting, "Shut up Kenny!" Cartman was known for being "the fat one" in the group though he was in serious denial over this fact, and consistently proclaimed that he was not fat, simply "big boned." To spite him on this, the other three boys would regularly respond to his greeting of "hey assholes" with a short, upbeat: Hey, fatass.
Which Kyle immediately did. "Hey fatass. How'd last night go?" he asked with feigned innocence, hardly able to contain the smirk of satisfaction that desperately tried to spread across his face. His response was a dour glare.
"Fuck you, Kyle."
The other two boys burst into raucous laughter, but didn't press the subject any further as their ride had just pulled up. "Holy shit Kenny, you're on time today," was Stan's greeting as he rolled down the window and unlocked the doors.
Kenny replied with a smile and the finger, then climbed into the back seat after Cartman. The car squealed back into motion, and Kyle passed around the steaming cups of caffeinated bliss. Kenny didn't care that it was scalding hot, he desperately needed to wake up, so he tipped some of it into his mouth, biting back a stream of profanity that threatened to overtake the car from the pain, and instead settled to glare angrily out the window until it subsided and lose himself in thought. He was hardly paying attention to the passing trees and sidewalk, letting his thoughts meander through the previous night's events and the oddness of his dad that morning.
Despite being out until the small hours of the morning (he hadn't even gotten home until 2 am), Kenny had thoroughly enjoyed it. And apparently, so had many onlookers who'd been shopping late, a good number of them bursting into laughter and cheers throughout the entire event. It always gave him a sense of accomplishment to hear people shouting "GO MYSTERION!" without the slightest care about the people around them.
"Right Kenny?" He was violently shoved out of his own head by Cartman, who had started prodding his arm with increasing force. "Riiiight Keennyy?"
"Right what?" he demanded, his tone quite clearly irritated. Kenny observed Cartman through his mop of messy dark blond locks that nearly covered his eyes. As Karen would no doubt chide him later, he was about due for a haircut. The rotund boy hadn't changed much since their third grade year. They had all made changes to their wardrobes over time and with varying degrees of weather severity, but the truth of it was that their overall appearance was quite similar. As it was early June, Kenny had opted to don an orange hoodie of a thin material, similar to Kyle's save the shade of orange and the placement of the pockets. Conversely, Stan was the only one not wearing a jacket, having chosen instead to wear a simple black t-shirt and his signature blue cap. Cartman was wearing a light jacket constructed of a thin nylon fabric in the same shades of red and blue as his favorite old coat, wearing the same turquoise and yellow knit cap that Kenny figured he'd probably owned for at least ten years.
Cartman's face was smug. "Right this summer's gonna be great!"
"That's not what you said, fatass," Kyle said acerbically, rolling his eyes in the passenger's seat. "And even if it was, most of us are going to be working all summer, unlike you."
"Nu uh! My mom got me a job at Jim's!" he protested in reference to Jim's Drug, which had once been burned down after a bizarre incident relating to Wal-Mart and the ever-idiotic Randy Marsh. "Anyway I was talking about that other stuff going on this summer! God Kyle."
"Whatever."
Kenny had tuned out of their chatter again. His attention had gone somewhere else, just as before.
The car came to a stop. The four boys jumped out, and together made their way to the busy halls of South Park High. Kenny and Kyle had their first hour class together, but since it was exam week, classes were scheduled differently than usual. They'd been given Monday and Tuesday off for the purpose of studying, with Wednesday, Thursday and Friday being set for testing. Wednesday was testing for first, second and third periods. Kenny had first and second with Kyle, and both Kyle and Stan in third. Cartman, conversely, had first with Stan, and second and third on his own.
The boys made their way to their lockers, which were grouped together since they all had their homeroom together during seventh period. Kenny tipped the books in his backpack into the bottom of his locker and pulled out his note card and class notebook.
"You guys ready for exams?" Stan asked upon passing Kenny what was left of his coffee, which Kenny took gratefully and swallowed quickly.
"I guess so," Cartman said, his voice annoyed. Kenny rolled his eyes and snapped his locker door closed.
"See you at lunch," he said, and made his way with Kyle down the stairs to the basement, where their first hour class was held.
There were no windows in the classroom, and the walls were adorned with really bad motivational posters mostly featuring animals in ties, or sitting at desks looking annoyed at their captions. The two boys made their way to the row of desks farthest from the door and sat about midway up from the back of the room, where they dumped their respective items and took their seats. A few others had already made their way to the room, despite having another ten minutes before the exam actually started.
"Hey guys, how'd last night go? Sorry I missed it," said the ever-intellectual voice of Stan's long time girlfriend Wendy, who finished her sentence with a sly smile.
Kenny's sheepish smile was answer enough, and she chuckled knowingly.
"It's okay, I missed it too. I got sidetracked by a problem downtown," Kyle said remorsefully. "But from what I heard from Stan, it was funny as hell."
"It was," chimed in another voice, belonging to the only male black student at South Park High. "I thought it was gonna end up with a lot of property damage but it really didn't. Actually, it went really smoothly on our end."
Kenny opened his mouth to give affirmation of Token's statement but they were joined by another student, Wendy's friend Bebe, who sat down beside the black-haired class president. "What're you guys talking about, that fight last night with Mysterion and the Coon?" she asked excitedly. Bebe had always been a huge Mysterion fanatic, and not because of his tall-dark-and-mysterious persona (which was only part of it). She genuinely thought he was the most badass thing she'd ever seen.
"Er... yeah, you caught it?" Kyle replied evenly, almost hesitantly. Kenny didn't seem to notice, he'd pressed his forehead to his desk in an attempt at waking himself up against the cold wood.
"Of course! Most people near the mall did. The Coon got his ass kicked as usual. No one I've talked to really knows what they were fighting about though."
"Probably the Coon trying to pull off something fucking stupid," echoed Kenny's muffled voice against the desk. It was entirely true, as far as he was concerned. His words were met with a collective giggle and the voices of several others that had started to pile into the room for the exam.
It was widely known that Mysterion, the town's watchful hero for the last eight years, was not on good terms with the Coon. Though the over-sized rodent claimed to be a hero and fighting for justice and "the American way" he often found himself at odds with his former team, since renamed from their first title back in the days of working out of the Coon's basement. The team, after adopting a name suggested by one of their founding members early on, had also relocated out of the Coon's basement to a less conspicuous location on the outskirts of town, away from prying eyes and ears.
The warning bell went off, sending Kenny almost out of his skin with the shock. Shit, I don't need to die of a heart attack and fail this exam he thought bitterly to himself, then shook his head quickly to keep the exhaustion at bay. Most of the desks were filled now, their occupants chatting away idly before the final bell rang and exams would start.
"Good luck guys!" Wendy whispered to the group encouragingly just as the bell went off again, signaling that classes were now in session.
-x-0-x-
"Ugh, thank fuck for lunch time," Kyle said as he and Kenny strode together to their lockers to drop off their books, having just completed their second exam for the day. He was rubbing his temples.
"Remind me to fucking sleep tonight," Kenny grumbled miserably. "I need more caffeine or I'm not gonna make it past lunch without passing out."
"I think I've got a Redbull stashed in Stan's locker, that should help." Even though the boys were always a four-man group, Kyle and Stan were always the closest friends. It was commonplace for them to keep stuff in one another's locker, and even when Kenny or Cartman were around, they were still the closest to being paired off. And even with Cartman around, Kenny sometimes felt like the odd man out. It wasn't often though, as the two had expressed their enjoyment at his company many times over.
Sure enough, as soon as Stan approached, he withdrew the blue and silver can from the depths of the locker and tossed it gingerly to Kenny, who held it like precious water in a desert. "Thank fucking God."
Stan chuckled and dumped his bag into the locker, then snapped it closed.
"Dude this sucks, we still have another test left before we can go home." Cartman had joined them as they made their way trudgingly to the lunch room, Kenny leaning on Stan's shoulder so he wouldn't run into something (or someone) in his zombie state. The other three mumbled their agreement. As soon as they got to the table, he popped open the can with a satisfying hiss and poured half the liquid down his throat.
"You look like shit, Kenny."
He raised the can as if to toast those words. "I didn't see you out there last night," Kenny replied, and took another gulp.
"Me, Stan and Kyle had other shit to worry about." Clyde's voice was nasally, but not quite so much as Craig's, who sat beside him carrying his tray.
"What other shit?" Craig asked while busying himself with opening the can of coke he'd brought with him.
"Studying, like we'd have time to go to the fucking mall," Clyde replied. "I heard it was good though. The fight I mean, not the mall."
"Well not as good as when that psycho from a few months ago was holding people hostage, but it was more entertaining than the actual mall," Kenny said, then quickly added, "I caught some of it on the news when I was leaving the house this morning."
The conversation took a decidedly less interesting turn as the boys at the table began discussing their various summer plans. Their last summer, the summer before senior year, was by some accounts supposed to be some great, last-run adventure before they started their final year of high school and then separated for jobs or college. Kenny had stopped listening, opting instead to rest his head on his arms against the cool, flat surface of the lunch table. The voices blurred together and made him dizzy, so he stopped paying attention altogether and let his mind wander yet again.
Female voices had joined the chorus of noise around him. Probably Wendy and some of her friends had decided to forsake their usual all-girls table to join the boys and sit beside their respective boyfriends. Unlike several of the other boys, Kenny was very much single, though very sexually active with many of the less inhibited girls of South Park High. And right now, he didn't really have the time to maintain a proper girlfriend. Aside from his actual job working at a nearby paper mill, the odd construction jobs he picked up, and his moonlight activities, there really wasn't time.
His thoughts were interrupted once again as the thick slap of paper hitting wood jolted him upright, suddenly very wide awake from the adrenal response. "What the fuck-" he started but was cut off by the dark-haired, dark eyed smirk of the culprit. "Don't do that, damn it, you almost gave me a heart attack," Kenny grumbled.
"Look who made the front page!" Wendy Testaburger said in an upbeat tone, and slid into a seat beside Stan, who snaked his arm around her. "'Onlookers were entertained last night by a battle of wits and mettle, provided by South Park's ever-watchful hero and his furry nemesis,'" she read from the front page, which sported a blurry shot of the pair in question. She had put an added emphasis on 'furry' which only provoked a giggle to go around the table. She read on, "'Witnesses report seeing the pair engaging in combat on the roof of the mall, where villain the Coon was seen attempting to set off several tons of explosives. His plan was thwarted when a counter attack sent the hefty evil-doer crashing through the glass dome, where he made his escape.'" The table erupted with laughter, save Cartman who looked steamed.
"They have it backwards!" he grumped and shoved half a cheeseburger into his mouth. "Fa Coon waf tryeen ta rid da wurld off evil mallsh-"
"Don't talk with food in your mouth," Kenny said, propping his head up with arm, elbow rested against the table.
"Fuck yew, Keeny," the rotund loudmouth replied and was silent.
Clyde was snickering. "How'd he get that many explosives?" he asked, glancing sideways at Craig, who hardly seemed to care. He shrugged, and busied himself with more pressing matters, like the pizza on his tray. The conversation took another turn after Bebe asked if Wendy was planning on coming over to study that night.
The rest of their lunch hour passed with little significant interest. Plans were made for study groups, which ended with Wendy, Bebe, Stan, Craig and Clyde meeting up at the coffee shop Stan worked at to study together (since Stan got a discount); Token, Kenny, Kyle, Cartman, Heidi, Jessie, and Lola going off to Token's parents' house; and Butters, Tweek, Jimmy, Timmy and a group of giggling girls heading over to the library. After making their plans the mass of junior students separated to make their way to their last exam of the day. Kyle and Kenny had finished English and Math, with their third period class being chemistry, which they also shared with Stan. The three boys made their way up to the second floor, where they crowded into the already-buzzing science room which retained the perpetual stench of what smelled like a mix between formaldehyde and battery acid. They'd hated it to start, but over the year the students had grown used to it, and the eccentric teacher responsible for it.
The boys sat around the table they shared with Craig, who looked as disinterested as usual, and unloaded note paper and pencils. "You guys ready?" Stan asked apprehensively with a quick look around the room.
"I guess," Craig replied with a shrug.
"Damn I hope so, my mom's been drilling my ass for a week about this fucking class," Kyle muttered. Kyle's mom was what one might call a bit fanatical. Though she cared deeply for both her sons, she had a tendency to take things a little overboard. Kenny remembered first hand the events of their third grade year when a foul-mouthed movie had, with her instigation, brought about the rise of Hell to earth. He remembered it quite vividly as the very first time he'd died thanks to the incompetent doctors attending him. He'd spent some time in both Heaven and Hell on that occasion, only for his begrudged curse to kick in and send him straight back to his bed.
No one, of course, remembered much of the event, except for the bit regarding Satan and Saddam Hussein.
Kenny smirked at Kyle's rueful remark. "You'll probably get higher marks than the rest of us anyway," he said.
The warning bell rang, drawing the boys' attention to the front of the room, where their teacher had begun scribbling something on the white board with a bright blue expo marker. The last few students trickled in as the final bell rang and the man turned, his wild gray hair bobbing as he did. "Alright guys, finals time!" he said brightly. "I'm going to pass your tests around. You have an hour and a half to complete your exam, and you may use one sheet, front and back, of notes, as you should recall from last week. No sharing, no peaking, no whispering, no talking! When you're finished, bring your test to me and you may leave." The exams went around the room, and in a flurry of paper, the test had begun.
Without moving his eyes away from the exam sheet, Kenny began to mark rapidly. Apparently the few studies sessions he'd been able to cram in were paying off, as the answers flashed into his head with only minimal forced recollection.
He came to the middle of the second page of the ten-page packet and read the question.
If you die so often, how are you still alive?
He shook his head and reread it. If you are able to divide x by...
He stared at it like it was some sneaky opponent. Fuck I need to sleep, he thought to himself, and went through the rest of the exam. Kyle, as usual, was the first to finish, and made his way to the front with the thick packet, which he gingerly placed on the desk and returned to pack up his stuff. "I'll meet you guys in the usual spot," he whispered practically inaudibly and made his way out of the room. Stan finished shortly after, followed closely by Kenny, who dropped their tests, packed up, and left the room together.
"I'm fucked in the head today, I started seeing shit when I was taking that test," Kenny remarked as they rounded the corner to their lockers.
"Well I can take over with Stan tonight for patrol if you wanna get some rest, dude," Kyle said as they approached him. "I don't think we'll need all night to study, and if something comes up we can handle it. We can call in Clyde and Token if we need backup."
"Yeah dude, rest for a change," Stan supplied. The three fell into silence as Cartman rounded the corner.
"What?" he asked defensively, looking at them like he'd caught them talking about him behind his back.
"Nothing."
"Don't 'nothing' me, Kyle! What were you talking about?"
"Chill Cartman, we were just telling Kenny to get some rest tonight." Stan always played the mediator. Rarely would his temper get the better of him, one of the best qualities Kenny thought he had. Of all the boys into moonlighting, Stan was definitely the negotiator of them, and it had proved invaluable on multiple occasions.
"Henh." Without another complaint they set off for Stan's car, piled in, and pulled out of the parking lot.
"So what time are you guys headed for studying?" Stan asked. "I'd go with you guys but I need to snag some of Wendy's notes pretty bad for tomorrow's test in History." Cartman was making kissy-faces at the back of Stan's head, which only Kenny noticed, and responded with a playful punch to the arm. The pair snorted with laughter.
"It's cool. I was figuring whenever Kenny got done at the mill," Kyle said and rolled his green eyes at the pair in the back seat.
"Well you're in luck, 'cause the mill is closed today," Kenny said brightly. "Something about a beaver getting stuck in the pulp machine blah blah."
Cartman snickered, which earned him a joking smack upside the head from Kenny. "'Ay!"
"Oh well in that case, let's head straight over to Token's place."
"Whenever you guys finish up text me so me and Kyle can get started tonight."
"Started on what? Nothin's gonna happen tonight," Cartman muttered ruefully. Kenny choked down a laugh. "What's so funny, Kenny?"
"Nothing, I was surprised actually that the Coon got away with as little damage as he did."
"Well rest easy, evil-doers, the Coon won't be doing any justice tonight. I got stuff to do."
The other three boys chortled quietly to themselves. "You know you're not the only one we worry about. We have to patrol every night."
Years had passed since the day the Coon had been expelled from the moonlighters' group. To be more specific, it had been four years since the Coon had been kicked out of South Park's resident super hero league by its leader, the one known around town as the ever-vigilant hero: Mysterion. It had happened a fair few times, the Coon falling out with the other members of what people had come to know simply as the League of Heroes, formerly the Extreme Avenger League and before that was known as Coon and Friends. The remaining members had all agreed unanimously to separate the Coon after an extremely embarrassing and public showdown that had ended in Mysterion's death (though no one remembered) and resulted in an immense amount of property damage.
Of course, not wanting to risk suspicion or revealing their true identities by way of suspicion, everyone continued to maintain the appearance of friendship. And everyone agreed on the point: work is work. Separate what happens with the mask on from what happens with the mask off. And for the most part, it worked. Only a few occasions had someone slipped up, or been caught out.
In all three of those occasions, it ended in someone being inducted into the League.
The boys pulled up to Token's house, where the three passengers unloaded their book-laden backpacks and set off to start up the Blacks' front walk.
"Oh hey!" Stan called after them. "Kenny, I just remembered something!"
"What?"
"Before you head home make sure you have Token give you the new code!"
Kenny nodded and waved him off, then caught up with the other two boys as they made their way to the door and knocked. A few minutes passed before the door swung open, revealing the lovely smiling face of Lola. "Hey guys, you're earlier than we thought you'd be," she said and moved to allow them entrance. "Token and Heidi are in the kitchen, Jessie and Kal should be here soon." They shuffled into the Blacks' lavish living room and tossed down heavy bags, then moved to join the two in the kitchen, followed by Lola.
"Oh hey, you guys are early," Token said and tossed Cartman and Kyle a cold soda, then pointed to the brewing coffee station for Kenny, who smiled at him gratefully. A pot had already been brewed, and it smelled like a strong, dark roast. He took an aromatic inhale and poured a mug, then made his way to the large, round, dark-granite table where the others had already made themselves comfortable.
"Okay, so we've all got history tomorrow. Which tests do you guys have left?" Token asked generally around the table.
"Well," Lola started, "I still have English and math, but not until Friday. Tomorrow I've got history, chem and Latin."
"Oh, you can use my notes," Kyle said, popping the tab on the coke and taking a few swallows. "Me and Kenny had English and chem today."
"That'd be awesome," she said, her deep brown eyes falling on Kyle's own green ones. Kenny noticed his friend's cheeks tinge red for the briefest instant, and smirked into his coffee, though only Token seemed to notice this and laughed quietly to himself. Kyle rarely dated, and when he did, it wasn't often for long. Despite his apparent charm (every time he complained about his inability to date a decent girl Stan and Kenny would chuckle while listening to Kyle rant on about all his good qualities) he seemed to have the hardest time pinning down a girlfriend. But Lola was nice enough. Maybe if they hit it off, Kyle wouldn't complain so much, Kenny bemused to himself.
Kenny's taste in girls was a far cry from the girls he actually hooked up with. Where most, if not all the girls in his own year were beautiful, intelligent and headstrong (all of which he found extremely attractive), the girls he tended to get saddled with were of the "reveal more skin and you'll get whatever you want" school of thought; they were often a grade below him, as being a belligerent slut was apparently a trend for the current Sophomores. And while his interest in most girls was purely sexual, and not really anything more long-term than a few one-night romps and some making out on the side, he still couldn't help but admit how much he loved smart girls. He hoped when things quieted down, he'd eventually have one.
He was snapped out of his apparent trance once again by a gentle nudge from Kyle's elbow, who leaned close to whisper, "Dude, what's up with Heidi?"
Kenny blinked and glanced up to see what exactly Kyle meant, and immediately noticed something was off. For one thing, she was staring at Cartman. She was staring at Cartman, like a piece of meat. Heidi had always expressed her dislike of Eric Cartman, much the same as any other girl ever, save Wendy who'd kissed him once (which she'd waved off as preteen hormones and nothing else), and had later beat the shit out of him. So the eerie way Heidi was fixed on him made Kenny a little uncomfortable. He arched an eyebrow and glanced sideways at Kyle, and leaned over to whisper back, "Fuck if I know, she was fine at lunch."
The staring persisted even after Cartman noticed. His eyes met hers, and he blinked a few times. While the others were discussing what had been on the tests they'd had so far, Cartman snapped his fingers in front of Heidi's face to elicit a reaction. He got none. "Whutcher' problem?" he hissed, furrowing his brow in confusion. She didn't say anything.
"Hey Heidi, when we're done wanna head to the mall?" Kal asked her, and also got no response. "Er... Heidi?"
At last she pulled her eyes away from a now-disturbed Eric Cartman. "Hm? Sorry I was spacing out."
"Oh, me and Jessie just wanted to know if you're coming with us to the mall after this." The two girls glanced at one another in mixed confusion and concern, but Heidi smiled.
"Yeah that'd be great. So which test were we discussing?"
Kenny glanced sideways at Cartman, who still looked immensely perturbed. The fuck? he mouthed to Kenny, who shrugged. There was no real reason to look into it further though. Not at the moment, anyway.
-x-0-x-
It was nearly 6 pm by the time they closed their books for the night. Kenny had dozed off four times, which Kyle informed him that he'd been counting. Kenny waved him off. "I'll sleep tonight, mother I promise."
"Kyle's a Jew, not an ashy corpse," Cartman said, trying to sound defensive, but this only earned him the ire of both boys.
"What the fuck, Cartman?" Kenny growled.
"Not cool, dude," Kyle chastised.
"What? I was trying to stick up for-"
"Just shut up."
Lola giggled, catching Kyle's attention. His face flashed red again and Kenny started to laugh, which was only interrupted by a massive yawn, wide enough for Kyle to shove a crumpled up piece of paper into his mouth.
"FFK MMF!" his muffled voice sounded.
"Fuck you too, bro," Kyle snickered as Kenny withdrew the paper from his mouth. "That's the new code, don't lose it. I had Token write it down while you were off in dreamland again."
"Thanks."
Cartman had started off down the walk. He only lived a block away from Token, but had demanded his mother give him a ride anyway, and her car was idling beside the curb. "See you assholes tomorrow."
"Later fatass," Kyle and Kenny said together.
"I think I'll jog home, I could use the fresh air," Kenny said, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
Kyle nodded, and glanced sideways at Lola. "So... I could... uh... walk you home if you want," he offered, and his voice cracked once. This elicited another giggle from the slender girl.
"Sure, I don't live too far away from you anyway," she replied, and the pair trotted off down towards the sidewalk. "See you guys tomorrow!" she called over her shoulder.
"Don't forget to text Stan!" Kenny called. Kyle flashed him a thumbs up and vanished off down the street. Kenny set off in the opposite direction, his pace picking up to a jog. Behind him he heard the slamming of car doors as the three girls piled into Jessie's new sedan and set off down the road.
Jessie had definitely grown into her beauty. She'd been lovely and sweet as any girl he'd ever met all through grade school and even middle school. While she could have definitely fallen in with Bebe's gang and gone straight into cheer leading, she'd opted to go the route of the athlete whenever she wasn't covered in paint. She'd grown to be an incredible artist. Her long hair was like pale gold, which she often had tied up in a ponytail, or a messy bun. Sometimes Kenny could imagine what it might feel like to run his fingers through that hair, or fix his eyes on her blue-grey ones...
"Fuck I'm turning into a chick," he growled, and slowed to a walk as he approached the disheveled hole that was their house. He pushed open the door cautiously and peered in. Stuart was home. It looked like he'd chosen to get drunk and pass out on the couch, instead of doing the same at a bar or the back of a friend's car. Kevin was nowhere to be seen but the stench of stale pot smoke gave Kenny the impression that he was probably locked in his room. He closed the door gingerly behind him and headed for the hallway and his room to drop his books. "Did you eat?" he called to Karen, who'd come out of her room as he rounded the hall corner.
"Yeah, I ate dinner at Leslie's house," she replied. "Kenny you look awful, did you sleep last night?"
"A little, it's alright I'm gonna sleep pretty soon."
"And you need a haircut."
He grinned sheepishly and she put her hands on her hips, staring him down determinedly. She was growing up fast. Kenny loved his little sister, and couldn't help the protective feeling in his gut. "I know kiddo, don't worry about it. I'll let you cut it this weekend, okay?"
She pursed her lips. "Fine. But you also have to let me sing for you. I found some of mom's old songs I wanna sing."
"Lemme get into bed first, you'll probably sing me right off to sleep." He hadn't said it as an insult, either. Karen's voice was almost angelic, it had a quality about it that made one feel like they were floating. She could sing a colicky infant straight to sleep in minutes if she wanted to. She beamed at him and rushed to her room to grab the sheet music, and once he'd fallen down on his old bed, she returned and sat beside him, her back resting against the wall beside the window.
"Hush child, the darkness will rise from the deep..." she began to sing. The notes hovered over the air and floated around him. "...and carry you down into sleep, Child, the darkness will rise from the deep..."
His eyelids felt heavy. He'd begun to drift away already.
"...and carry you down into sleep."
-x-0-x-
"BUZZZZ!"
Kenny sat bolt upright in his bed. Had he died again? No... no that couldn't be it, he distinctly remembered actually falling asleep.
"BUZZZZ!" the noise went off again, and he reached for the bedside table. His phone was going off. He had four missed calls and five texts. But it wasn't his personal cell that was buzzing.
Dude code red, get on the wire. -Kyle
I tried to call you, need you to suit up. -Stan
TURN ON YOUR WIRE - Ike
Code Red, everyone make contact - Sentinel (actually sent from base, he noticed, making it all the more pressing)
Possible code red, need all members to check in - Timmy
He swallowed hard. What the hell had caused so much sudden panic? He flung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself to his feet, then pulled open his bedside table and withdrew the earpiece, which he fitted to his ear and tapped on. "What's going on?" Even though he wasn't yet suited up, the voice that left Kenny's mouth was Mysterion's.
"What took you so fucking long?" was the first voice to respond. He could hear shouts in the background. The voice belonged to the Human Kite.
"I told you guys I was gonna sleep. Give me a rundown, I'm suiting up."
"Mysterion it's Sentinel. We have a code red. We also need more code names for shit like this-"
"Cut to the chase, Sentinel."
"Right, code red. Homicide at the mall, one suspect, armed with a large carving knife."
"And you need backup because...?" Mysterion asked as he stripped rapidly down to his boxers and pulled on the tight-fitting, thick off-purple pants he wore.
"It's Heidi, dude." Toolshed had spoken up. "And not the Heidi anyone of us is used to. This is waaay beyond her cheer leader stuff-"
"TOOLSHED DOWN!" StrikeForce shouted. Mysterion could only assume Toolshed had moved in time, because he could still be heard swearing vehemently.
He strapped on his boots and begun pulling the long-sleeved, formfitting shirt that accompanied the pants and grey piece he wore. The chest was emblazoned with a bright green M.
"Fuck, she nicked my neck!"
"Just be glad she did not slit joor throat! Zees is bullshit. We need to catch 'er in a trap!"
Mysterion had pulled on his gloves and strapped on his belt. The half-mask was pulled on next and covered half of his face. The cloak came on last, which he pulled over himself and drew up the hood. Finally fully-geared, Mysterion pulled open his window and slipped out like a shadow and melted into the night.
"Run me through it, what happened?"
"About ten minutes ago a mall officer was murdered after approaching Heidi Turner," Toolshed replied, though with some effort. "She was walking around in circles below the busted glass dome you and the Coon shattered a few nights back. She pulled a knife on him and cut his throat. Me and Kite happened to be right here when it happened so we tried to get people out of the way. She attacked the girls she was with." Mysterion felt his stomach flip. Jessie and Kal. "They're both alive but injured. I dunno where she pulled this out but she's fucking fast."
"Not as fast as me," Mysterion growled.
He sprinted along the sidewalk, his cape billowing behind him. As soon as he rounded the corner to main street he climbed up the drain pipe of the nearest building and leaped from the roof to the next one, rolling into another sprint and repeating, over and over, flying over top of the pedestrians walking in the streets below. Most of them didn't notice, but a few would look up and call out, "It's Mysterion!" He didn't stop. He kept sprinting ahead, the shattered glass and wire frame of the dome over the mall coming into view.
He scaled another building, this one taller, and a dead-run brought him sailing off the roof, landing on the roof of the mall. He only winced slightly as he impacted, having grown accustomed to the long drops and landings over his years of doing it, having died because of it many times. "I'm here," he said and dove between the steel framing and rolling to a safe landing.
"Thank fuck."
The scene that greeted Mysterion was shocking, even for him. There was blood everywhere. By his count there were 13 bodies, and if Heidi was allowed to keep going, the number was going to get higher. They were strewn about and had landed in unceremonious heaps where they'd fallen. Most of them had been stabbed with a killing blow, but he could tell some of them had taken a few minutes to finally die. He knew first hand what kind of hellish agony that was. Heidi herself was still in active motion. She was moving in a way that almost looked like she was dancing, but it was the most terrible, unholy dance he'd ever seen. Not to say that it was bad. In any other circumstances, it might have been entertaining to watch. But right now, the way she drifted about, blood dripping from the red-painted carving knife, it was simply terrifying. But Mysterion didn't feel fear. And Heidi had set her sights on two girls a few yards off, who were crouching behind one of the wooden benches. One of them was bleeding heavily.
"Fuck." He sprang into action. When Mysterion moved, it was rapid, almost phantom-like. His speed had increased so much since his days as an elementary school hero. His muscles were finely-tuned and despite his exhaustion, they were pumped with adrenaline. He flashed past Human Kite and Toolshed, who were catching their breath. Heidi was spinning like a ballerina. The two girls had bolted out from behind the bench as she smashed through it... wait, smashed? What the hell?
"Run Kal!" one of the girls shouted to the other. There were splatters of blood caking her pale golden hair, but it was unmistakeable: that was Jessie. She'd stopped and turned on her heel, and thrown her arms out defensively to stop Heidi from passing. But her act as a human shield wasn't going to last long, and Heidi was bearing down with the knife. Without a second thought Mysterion was there.
"StrikeForce, get that one out of here!" Mysterion ordered, jerking his head towards the profusely bleeding Kal. She did as ordered and surged around Heidi and scooped the girl up. StrikeForce had incredible strength, greater than any woman he'd ever met, but there was no time to marvel that. He reached out and grabbed Jessie by her forearm and yanked her out of the way as the knife came down, missing her head by an inch at most. "You're gonna get yourself killed!" he growled, and pushed her behind him protectively. Heidi was there once again, bringing the knife down.
He caught sight of her eyes. Her hollow, black eyes. Heidi's eyes weren't black, they were amber. They were supposed to be amber. Something was very wrong. She swiped at him, but he'd caught her wrist, effectively stopping the movement of the knife. She spun back, reaching behind her with her free hand and taking the knife.
Mysterion gaped in horror as the knife sank home, embedded deep in Heidi Turner's chest.
I am familiar with death. I die more often that I would ever care to recount. I've died every single way imaginable. Even still...
I can never get used to the sight of someone else's death.
It always haunts me.