Author's Note: New story, old characters, and maybe some new ones, the latter being ones you decide on. Yes, I am accepting OCs; how long will I accept them, well you'll know as long as the summary says I need them. So please, send them in. The sooner, the better, and the faster the next chapter comes out. Blackmail? Sure but I have yet to write up the next chapter or get ahead like I with Dance of the Devils. Not enough time has passed. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language, violence

Stranger in those Homicidal Eyes

Ice is Not Nice

Spring, the season where life emerged from the bitter frost and heartless ice of winter, the seeds of yesteryear taking root and clawing out of the cold, hard ground to the sun and sky above.

In South Park, Colorado, that didn't really happen.

For about ten months, if you were lucky, out of the year, the ground was covered in an ever-present layer of snow that had a strangle hold on all life. Really, if you wanted to know if spring had come, you tested the ice on Stark's Pond. During the late fall and the entire winter, the pond would be covered in a thick blanket of ice, ice so solid you could build a house on it and not have to worry about the ice cracking.

No kidding, someone actually tried. The McCormicks to be precise but come spring thaw, the house sank and Kenny died.

And life went on.

But back to the main point. The citizens of South Park knew spring would arrive whenever the ice on Stark's Pond would become thin and easily cracked. Only then would the denizens feel it safe enough to take down all the Christmas decorations they were too lazy to put away and start getting ready for Easter, all the while paying attention to the news to see who was the next big time celebrity that they needed to tear down and sacrifice.

It was looking like Justin Beiber was a shoe-in for this year.

It was about the middle of March when Charlotte "Charlie" White found herself being forced by her mother in taking her younger sisters out for some ice skating. It was a Saturday and all Charlie felt like doing was staying in her warm bed and doing absolutely shit as she wasted the day away.

Of course, most of that blame could have been put on Tammy, her youngest sister. The now seven year old had gotten her hands into something that had contained a lot of sugar, enough to have her bouncing off the walls and furniture, loud noise included. Her mother was currently working on her next book and, according to her, couldn't concentrate with all that racket.

Thus she had corralled her and forced her to take both Tammy and Stella, her more mature but still younger sister, out to distract them and had handed her a few pairs of ice skates on their way out being shoved through their front door.

When Stella had given her an expectant look and Tammy a more hopeful one, Charlie had sighed and stopped banging on the door, demanded her mother unlock the damn thing before she set the house on fire again.

It wasn't because she was giving up, mind you, it was because she had left her lighter in the house.

So leaving their mother to her peace and quiet, she had taken her sisters to the nearest ice pond, which so happened to be Stark's. Upon arrival, she found a bunch of kids from school there. Funny, she would have thought they'd be at the mall…and why hadn't she thought to go there first instead of here?

She found out soon enough that the ice rink at the mall was closed for some repairs. Someone had vandalized the ice machine and stolen all the coolant needed to freeze the necessary amount of water.

Fucking figured it would happen. Now, who would be crazy enough to steal coolant fluids anyway?

She spied Eric Cartman and Kenny McCormick from the corner of her eye. Yeah, Cartman was stupid enough to do something like that and Kenny, well, he'd do it for the "lolz" as they say in internet speak. Hmm, that investigating quality instilled by countless readings of Sherlock Holmes was starting to act up again.

Lost in her musings, she failed to notice Stella ditching her and leaving her to babysit Tammy who was at her side and thrusting her pair of skates to her. "Help me Charlie," the young girl pleaded, pressing the skates into her hands.

So much for family sticking together…

"Alright," she sighed as she bent down, loosening the laces on the skates. You'd think the girl would have learned to tie the laces on her own shoes, or skates in this case, but Tammy had never really learned to do it herself, their mother still helping her get dressed in the mornings.

The way Charlie figured it, their mother was trying to make up for lost time, time that was intended to be used on her but was usurped by them having to flee the country to escape her brother's homicidal insanity.

A sudden slap of cold hitting her on the side of her face brought her out of her musings and her hand was against the side of her face. Pulling her hand away, she came to the realization that someone had just pegged her with a snowball.

…oh hell no.

She spun around on her heel, nostrils flaring as her sharp eyes scanned for the perpetrator, catching a laughing Cartman in his large red coat and blue and yellow poof ball hat who just happened to be in the midst of making another snowball, the parka clad but hoodless Kenny chuckling right beside him. With her eyes narrowing, she scooped up a clump of snow, a small rock embedded in it, hastily packing it into a more round form then shooting it accurately at Cartman, striking the lardass right in his gut. Smirking, she marched her way over to the wheezing boy, eager for more retribution.

"Hey, nice shot Lottery Ticket," Kenny exclaimed to her, the poor sack of shit working to keep his fat friend from falling onto his ass, not an easy feat as he was working against two hundred pounds of solid fat.

"Next one's yours, ass," she said sweetly while projecting a menacing aura.

"Can't you hoes take a joke anymore?" Cartman demanded as he glared up at her.

"Hitting me in the side of the head is suppose to be a joke?" she asked dryly. "So you really were aiming for me, weren't you?"

"Um, er…" Cartman's eyes darted from side to side. "Well…you know, you just happened to be in the general direction as my snowball, and you know, I can't control where that thing goes and—"

"He was aiming for you," Kenny said helpfully.

"Shut up Kenny!" Cartman growled, glaring at the blond.

"Well, to be honest, I'm not mad about that," she said.

"Huh? Really?" Cartman blurted, staring at her stumped.

"No, it's just that you could have hit my little sister," she continued. "And for that, I'm going to have to beat the shit out of you. Don't take this personally but it's just that your face is in the general direction that my fist is going to be."

"Now, hold on a minute," Cartman yelped. "There's no need to get physical now. We can work something else."

From nearby, Stan and Kyle had appeared and the two were watching it play out, neither of them motivated enough to come to their friend's aid, which sat just fine with Charlie who was not in the mood for this bullshit. Both appeared bored, Stan snug in a green lettermen jacket and placing his weight on one leg while the slightly shorter Kyle looked more put upon, his eyes rolling upwards towards his ratty looking ushanka.

In fact, Kyle suggested quite loudly, "Be careful, Charlie, you might get you hand stuck in a fold of fat and have to go to the hospital to get it out."

"Yeah," Stan agreed. "Try doing a purple nurple instead."

"Stan, Kyle, you assholes!" Cartman yowled.

"Hey, hey, there's no need to get violent now," Kenny cut in. "Tell you want," he continued, looking her dead in the eye, "I'll come home with you and make it all up to you. If you want, I'll do things with you I wouldn't do with a farm animal, okay?"

"I'll pass," she refused. "Besides, I'm going to pound you as well, McCormick."

"Oh, you know you can be rough with me anytime," Kenny purred, winking at her saucily.

Her leg tensed reflexively, as if preparing to lift off the ground and find itself straight in Kenny's crotch but let it not be said that Charlie didn't have some restraint. There wasn't much to begin with but hey, it was the thought that counted.

"Hey, isn't that a conveniently distracting stranger talking to your sister?" Cartman suddenly exclaimed, pointing a chubby finger at something behind her.

Charlie knew this ploy, the whole "there's something right behind you, please turn around so I can attack/run away from you" trick, but she was ashamed to say that she was actually turning her head to look at what Cartman was pointing at.

Her blood froze as she spied a dark clad figure kneeling next to Tammy, a fiercely protective surge flooding her body as she stomped away from the South Park Four.

Now, what exactly was urgent enough that caused such a free-willed person such as her to break off from attempting to beat up a peer? Well, it might have to be due to the fact that she had some history with that black-clad stranger who wasn't as much of a stranger as she liked for him to be.

The person's heterochromatic eyes peered up at her smugly for a moment before turning back to Tammy who was telling him that one of her skates were tied too tightly. She was looking up at him with hopeful eyes and the guy chuckled down at her, his slender fingers messing with the knot in the shoelaces.

He was unsuccessful at loosening the knot, though, and much to her alarm he reached into a pocket of the trenchcoat he wore, pulling out a switchblade, one whose sharpness she knew all too well.

It was instinctive; she threw herself at the guy, tackling him and knocking him away from her little sister. There was no way in hell she was going to be risking Tammy's wellbeing with this bastard so close.

"You got a lot of fucking nerve, dickwad," she spat at the boy.

Bain Cynis, the bane of her existence merely smirked back up at her as if used to this kind of treatment all the time. "Why am I not surprised you're throwing yourself at me, Charlotte?" he taunted. "Have you no values?"

"Like yours?" she shot back. "Wait, you don't have any values!"

"Now is that anyway to be treating the person who was taking care of your sister?" he retorted. "One could say that your priorities are skewed." With that, he shoved her off of him and sat up, his switchblade still in hand. Huh, she would've have thought that he have dropped it. Whenever she dealt with him in the past, his knives were easy to take away from him.

"If that isn't the pot calling the kettle black," she snapped back, glaring at him.

"Last I checked, I was as white as snow," Bain replied casually as he bent down and took a hold of Tammy's foot. Hey, wait a minute, how had he…? When had he…? Shit!

Bain dug the tip of his blade into the knot and wiggled it around some, loosening it the knot enough that he was able undo it then retie it. Tammy beamed up at Bain, something that Charlie found so wrong in so many ways. Why hadn't Bain tried to pick a fight already? And now that she thought about it, why hadn't he used the multitudes of pet names he had for her? You know, names like "cunt," "bitch," and "whore?"

Then it hit her. All the previous times she had dealt with the bastard, her little sister hadn't been there. Now it was starting to make sense; Bain was sucking up to her family and trying to alienate her from them all the while making him seem to be some sort of paragon of virtue. And damn it, she could see that it was starting to work with Tammy, seeing how her little sister was beaming up at the psycho.

It was sneaky, underhanded, but something she should have expected out of him. His timing was way off but now that she thought about it, he hadn't much interaction with her family outside of her mom driving him to the hospital the first day they met (and fought) and her telling Stella about him in confidence.

"That should do it," Bain commented as he folded up his switchblade and put it away. He tousled Tammy's hair, the little girl giggling at the contact and watching him with worshipping eyes (shit, shit, shit!). He walked away from the girl, a smug smirk on his face but when he moved in close to Charlie, he stopped and leaned close to her, so close that he was able to whisper, "Stupidity must run in her family, eh my worthless little bitch?"

That asshole, he knew how to play her, didn't he? He knew that she couldn't stand being called worthless and bitch in the same insult. She couldn't help herself, she just couldn't; she saw red and the next thing she knew, her fist was reacquainting itself with Bain's face, slamming against his left cheek and forcing him to stumble back and away from her.

Bain glared at her in outrage for a moment but then his expression morphed into a smug one. Something was nagging at her from the back of her mind but she didn't heeded it as her only thoughts were to crush this punk.

She charged at him, Bain stepping to a side while holding up a corner of his trenchcoat like a matador's cape. She found herself running through the fabric and spinning around on her heel and tackling the asshole from behind. Bain laid on his front on the ground with Charlie pressing against his back but he quickly pushed himself off the ground and rolled them over so now her back was against the snowy ground. He raised an arm up and swung his elbow down into her side.

She couldn't help but cry out in shock, Bain rolling off her and scrambling to his feet. Not one to be taken out quickly, Charlie rolled onto her front and shoved herself back onto her feet just in time to see Bain pull out his favorite knife, and no it wasn't the switchblade. It was a large, metal clad hunting knife that the psycho affectionately called Winslow. She had no idea why and just chalked it up to him being crazy as usual.

By now their scuffle had attracted attention from the other kids. They were slowly forming a ring of sorts, one side of it cornered off by the frozen over pond itself. They had just begun their cheering and calls but were silenced when Bain pulled out Winslow, a hush falling over them. Suddenly this wasn't any old playground fight anymore…

Charlie, though, wasn't intimidated by the weapon. It wasn't the first time one had been pulled out on her and thus she knew how to adjust to the situation as she began circling Bain, the asshole reciprocating the action in turn. He held Winslow in experienced hands, reading to either stab it at her or throw it. Whether or not he had been practicing with that last one, she did not know.

Bain feinted at her, taking a step forward but pulling back in the next second, attempting to make her paranoid. She resisted rolling her eyes at that; she had been in plenty of fights before and knew when to tell if someone was feinting or going in for the attack. Years of dealing with her own brother had taught her that much.

Then Bain went in for the kill, but she was ready to meet him. As Bain slashed Winslow at her, she knocked the armed hand away and used the opening to smash her palm into Bain's face, knocking his head back. Bain snapped his head forward but backed away quickly, eyeing her critically. Not letting him take the time to get reoriented, she charged him, slamming her shoulder into his stomach, causing him to "oomph" and pull away. She raised a leg up and swung it, landing a blow into his ribs and forcing him to stumble closer to the pond.

Bain clutched at his side, sneering at her. Charlie, though, felt pumped, a heady feeling that was urging her to not only beat him up but humiliate him as well. Perhaps then he would think twice before trying to start shit with her again.

However, Bain backed away from her, paradoxically gesturing to her to follow him. Oh, he wanted to do this in private now? He started it out in the open and it would be in the open that she'd finish it. Then Bain took a step onto the frozen pond and then another and another. Now he was smirking at her, nonverbally taunting her.

"What's wrong?" he said out loud. "Scared of a little ice?"

Well, she couldn't let that one go now could she. Squaring her shoulders, she boldly followed after Bain but it was on her first step that she soon remembered one important fact: she couldn't walk on ice for shit.

Sure she had spent some time up in Russia where it was cold 365 days out of the year and ice was not something new to be traversed on but it had been a skill that had eluded her all the same. The fact that Bain didn't seem to have a problem though just rankled in her keister.

"Problem?" he taunted. "I'll give you a hint, grip with your toes."

"I don't need your help," she glared at him, unsteadily holding her balance on the frozen surface.

"C'mon Charlie!" she heard someone cheer at her, reminding her that they still had an audience.

Unfortunately, it distracted her enough that Bain was able to notice and take advantage of it. He was in front of her before she knew it and she barely caught his arm, the tip of Winslow inches from her face. The force from Bain's swing had her feet sliding against the ice and further onto Stark's than she would have liked and once again she almost lost her balance.

Bain was also in front of her again, jabbing Winslow at her, aiming mainly for her legs and abdominal region. She parried each jabbing thrust with her hands, inwardly thanking her father for that one small mercy. Then she felt something smack her in the face and a second later she realized that while she had been distracted by Bain's knife, she hadn't notice him pull his other arm back and then backhand her. The result of this was that now she was on her ass on a frozen pond and were those cracks she could feel against her rump?

No time to think about that, she pushed herself out of the way as Bain stabbed Winslow down at her, the blade plunging into the ice. She could see water starting to ooze around where the knife had penetrated the ice and she paled at the realization that the pond wasn't as frozen over as she had thought.

They were practically fighting on thin ice.

Bain seemed heedless of this as he pulled Winslow out. Knowing that he'd screw them both over if he kept it up like this, she kicked Bain's feet out from under him, a feat made easier since the ice he was standing on was slippery. He fell away from where he had stabbed Winslow and Charlie managed to grabbed the arm that held the knife. She hit the hand against the ice, trying to jar Winslow loose and when she succeeded, she snatched it up and threw it as far away as she could, the blade vanishing into a pile of snow several yards away from the pond.

She then felt Bain knock her away from him then felt a weight against her back, soon followed by an arm wrapping around her neck. She grabbed at the arm as pressure was applied and managed to gain enough wiggle room that she could throw her head forward and then back, slamming the back of her skull into Bain's face and causing him to release her.

Wanting to get on more surer ground, Charlie scrambled away from the bastard, unable to get up onto her feet as she couldn't get enough friction under her footwear. She settled for pushing herself against the ice, inching towards safety ever so slowly.

Behind her, Bain was getting to his feet, something she felt quite envious about, and was starting to stalk after her.

This didn't look good.

"Man, I wish I brought some Cheezy Poofs," Cartman whined as he watched the fight between "the lovebirds" as a few people at school called them.

"Only you would think of food," Kyle scoffed at him. "Don't you fucking realize how dangerous this is?"

"Yeah, that's why it's so much more entertaining," he shrugged. Narrowing his eyes, he muttered, "Damn it, what are they doing now?" He took a step closer to the frozen pond, his foot just inches away from the ice.

"Uh, Cartman?" Stan spoke up. "I don't think that's a good idea. Could you get away from the pond?"

He frowned at the pussy jock and sneered. "Or what, hippie?" He looked down and then back at Stan. "Are you saying I'm fat?"

"I'm just saying you shouldn't get too close," Stan shrugged, though there was worry that was visible in his eyes.

"You might just fall through," Kyle added.

"Oh, that's real mature," he snarked. "How many times do I have to tell yous guys? I'm not fat! Here, I'll prove it!" He took a step onto the ice, much to his friend's slowly growing panic.

"Cartman," Stan said urgently.

"You're such a pussy," Cartman rolled his eyes as he pressed his weight down on his foot. Promptly, his foot broke right through the ice, a large crack shooting across the pond, practically splitting it in half, water sloshing out of it.

"Ey! What the hell!" he roared. "This is all your fault!" he accused, glaring at Stan and Kyle. He really hated those guys…

She was right in his sights. Bain was slightly amused that the girl who seemed to best him in almost any physical arena was bested by a little ice. He was enjoying this, the bitch was almost helpless, left to his mercy as it were.

Too bad he didn't have any.

And it figured that he had to lose Winslow right before this. Oh well, you had to make do with what you had.

There was a loud snapping sound in the air and he stopped, snapping his head around to glare at the noise's source. His rage intensified to find that Eric Cartman was right there but that rage drained out of him quickly as he saw the erupting crack in the ice, the crack cutting him off from Charlotte.

Taking in how big the crack was, he scoffed at it. The water wasn't really an obstacle; he could just step over it and still get his hands on the cunt. Nothing to worry about.

He took a step closer to Charlotte, keeping an eye on the crack long enough to gauge out how large of a step he was going to take next. In hindsight, he probably should have just stopped and gone another way, he would admit. Of course, despite being an intellectual among a culture of retarded rednecks, he didn't noticed that what water that had seeped out of the ice had slickened the surface that he was about to set foot on.

In short, as soon as he placed his foot on the other side of the crack, he slipped. As soon as he felt his foot sliding forward, he tried to abort and pull back, trying to shift his weight to his other foot but in order to do that, he had to scoot that foot forward and onto more slickened ice.

It was almost comical how he tried to keep his balance, his feet almost out of control as he windmilled his arms. Finally, gravity took over and unable to remain standing, he fell backwards onto the ice, directly over the crack. He almost blacked out as the back of his head slammed into the ice but the instant sensation of a thousand knives stabbing into him brought him back.

The cold surrounded him and he was finding it hard to breathe as whenever he opened his mouth, a liquid was rush in instead of air.

In the next second, it hit him, he had fallen through the ice and was underwater.

It didn't help that he didn't know how to swim either, always refusing to learn because he was living in the middle of the Rockies and what need would he had to swim when he didn't see himself ever getting into a body of water bigger than a bathtub.

His head throbbed with pain and he struggled in the water, trying to reach for the surface that was slowly drifting away from him inch by inch. His breathing was impaired as his lungs were filled with water and no matter how many times he gagged, he couldn't clear them. His vision was flashing and as he struggled helplessly, his mind reminded him of a time when he had been in a similar situation.

The murky water was replaced with flashes of red fruit and the primal fear that he had felt back then rushed in to strengthen his weakening efforts for survival. It was becoming all too much; he was surrounded, being crushed, by apples or water, he could no longer tell.

Finally as he felt a surface touch his booted feet, his mind blanked out and his vision blackened.

Who'd have ever thought…it would end…like…this…

Author's Note: Want to find out what happens next? You know what to do. Submit those OCs. There's not a lot of space this time around but that'll just mean I'll be able to do more with your character. The more diverse, the better. One last thing, I'm not guaranteeing that if you want your character to be paired with something that they'll get their man/woman. Makes for some drama and we all know South Park needs it.