Author's Note: At last, the sequel to Stranger in those Homicidal Eyes. For those just tuning in, a few subplots from SITHE are going to be continued in Fiends as there were no satisfactory resolutions. Of course, in order to get the kind of resolutions necessary, we're going to need something big to happen. Thus, enter Rod Woods, a new OC I've been working on over the past couple of months. I've submitted him to a couple OC stories here and there but no one has picked him up yet and tried to develop him like with Bain. So with no other interpretations to this character out and about, I'll be taking the reins for now. I'd also like to give a thank you to CherrySlim who took time out of her day to beta this. This is my first time doing something from first person but word of advice: don't get used to it. We'll be back to third person soon enough.

At this point, I have four returning OCs from SITHE: Charlotte White, Sunny Grain, Brianna Vargas, and Kyra McCloud. For those who submitted for SITHE, resubmit your OCs now because I will drop them. It may make the transition from SITHE to Fiends a bit awkward but hey, I'm an equal opportunity person. However, I'm going to be a bit particular about the submission form. I'll say it right now, at the bottom of this chapter, you will find the form and if you want your OC to be accepted, you must fill out the criteria in the submission form. No exceptions. With that said, that doesn't mean that you can't still give me the same information that you always give; just make sure that it's filled in the proper categories. Time is limited and once the call for OCs is taken off the summary, that's it. No more submissions will be accepted, no matter how awesome your OC might be.

With that out of the way, Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.

Warning: language

Fiends

Prologue

I take a deep breath of the cool mountain air, refreshing my lungs as I heave up another box from the moving van into my arms. There is some weight in the cardboard container but it isn't a problem for me to pick up and move wherever I want to put it. Now, where is it supposed to go? I can see the word kitchen scrawled on the side of the box so that sounds as good a place as any to dump it.

Moving is such a pain…

Huh, that's right, you have no clue what the hell I'm talking about. The name is Robert Woods but I prefer that you call me Rod. I got that name back in grade school when some kid called me that instead of Rob and it stuck. To be honest, I like Rod better than Rob or Bob or whatever the hell else you can come up with.

Plus there are other ways Rod could be applied if you know what I mean. You probably don't but that's not my damn problem.

Now, I know what you're thinking. I'm the new kid, moving into a small mountain town that I've never heard of until now but believe me, there is a good reason for all this. This ain't some bullshit sob story about trying to get a new start in the middle of nowhere. Fuck no, my parents were transferred to a new division that was placed a few miles out of town. It was built somewhere outside of Denver, Colorado; far enough away for privacy and greater control of security.

It just so happens that one of the nearest towns is called South Park. Stupid name if you ask me. Sure, my folks could have chosen to live in Denver or some other nearby town but they wanted to set a precedent or some shit. My guess is they were trying to be different.

Not that I give a shit or anything. If anything, I think I'm going to like it here. This place, it feels new and innocent, like it's a world of its own. Don't think it's strange that I think like that since I'm going to be a senior in high school. Shit like graduating with people I've known all my life means nothing to me to be honest. I don't get why people make such a big deal out of it anyway. It's not like you're ever going to talk or see those guys again.

I know, I know, I sound like an asshole. The truth is I'm a realist. I admit that I have flaws, that I'm not some kind of messiah sent here to save everybody's souls or some shit. I'm just an ordinary teenage guy with teenage hormones. Simple, right?

So here I am, dumping a box that probably has some pots or some shit like that into a kitchen that I have never set foot in before but I'm not having some emotional breakdown over it like you see in a bunch of those dumb teenager movies. And no, I'm not moving these boxes in because I want to or because I'm some kind of Good Samaritan. My parents, acting like they're some kind of executives, are orchestrating the movers outside and they've enslaved me when I wasn't looking.

Fortunately, I know when to drag my feet. I'm taking my time going from the house and to the van and since I have no siblings, I don't have to be annoyed by a bunch of whining and screaming kids. Sometimes, being an only child kicks ass. Not that I would know what it's like to have a brother or sister so I can't say I know what it's like to not to be an only kid.

Now, I know what you're thinking; I'm some kind of scrawny little nerd that's probably never lifted anything heavier than a pencil and likes to study all the time. Now that's just insulting. I'm a big guy and buff to boot. Back in Oregon, a no man's land between Seattle and Northern California, I was a stud. The girl's were all over me back there and let me tell you, you'd be very surprised to hear who've I been with.

Very surprised.

What can I say, I'm one handsome devil. If I didn't like the girls so much, I'd have to beat them off with a stick. And anyway, threeways can be fun.

As I walk out of the house, I can hear my parents directing the traffic and I move to the side as a couple workers pass me by. I plant myself a few feet away from the all the activity and watch as some of the movers struggle with an awkward metal frame that they're trying to pull out of the van. I smirk at it, knowing where exactly I want that frame to go.

I already scoped out the basement earlier and I planned on filling it up with all my gym equipment. I liked working out; how else am I going to get such a muscular physique if I don't work for it? Plus, the chicks love the muscles, let me tell you that.

It isn't like my parents would care about what I did with girls anyway; they're hardly home as it is. When they are, I could still go on about my own business and they wouldn't give two shits. Sounds fantastic doesn't it? Well, allow me to burst your bubble and say that it sucks donkey balls. I have to take care of my fucking self by myself and that's a lot of work. When they remember I exist, they try to bribe me with stuff and it's gotten to the point where I could ask for anything and they'd give it to me just to make themselves feel better.

And because my wants and needs don't disappear when they forget about me, I've taken the liberty of stealing a couple of their credit cards. They haven't asked any questions so why should I tell them what I've been using them for?

So yeah, it looks like I haven't painted a pretty picture for you of my "perfect" life. Does it really matter? Anybody could have a perfect life and they'd still find something to complain about. Me? Well, I know complaining about shit is not going to change anything so I'm not complaining. Go with the flow man, it'll take you far.

I adjust the leather jacket I'm wearing; I'm about to take off since the truck is almost empty and my parents are going to probably go out and eat something, completely forgetting that I'm fucking here as usual. Wouldn't be the first time but I already have a plan of what I'm going to do. I'll grab some fast food or something and go to a video store I saw on the way into town. A movie will distract me for a while and before I forget, I better look up when school starts. I know it's not tomorrow but it would be best to know ahead of time so that I can make a good impression on these hicks.

First impressions do matter and because of what I like, I need to make it a good one. After that, it'll be smooth sailing.

Now, onto one of the little "gifts" my parents have gotten over the years due to guilt: my motorcycle. I know what you're thinking, I'm wearing a leather jacket and ride a motorcycle. I must think I'm hot shit or something. Well, I am hot shit but that has nothing to do with anything. The jacket's here because it's wind resistant and practical for riding a motorcycle and the motorcycle's here 'cause it's a chick magnet.

Yeah, didn't expect a leather jacket to be practical for something, did you?

I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing but I'm not wearing my hat. The good thing is that it won't obstruct my helmet but the bad thing is that it's my favorite fucking hat and I don't want to show off any helmet hair. I haven't decided which it is yet.

My motorcycle is parked at the edge of our property, nearly on the neighbor's lawn and I can see that a girl is peeking from a window. I comb my fingers through my hearty stalk of dirty blond hair, tilting my head at just the right angle so that the sunlight showcases my tanned skin. Yes, it may look like I'm conceited and, well, I can't argue against that but I know what it takes to get some girls' blood boiling.

Showing off works if you pretend that you don't know anyone's around yet at the same time make it look like it's something natural and not arrogant gets the babes squealing every time. I may be a handsome son of a bitch but I can't let them think I'm full of myself. The looks need to appear as if they are incidental.

I straddle the seat of my bike and put the key into the ignition, revving the engine as it purrs to life. Oh yeah, those are some good vibrations there. I snag my helmet and pull it on, making a couple minor adjustments to it before kicking up the kickstand and rocketing off down the street.

Something I had noticed is once you cross into Colorado from Utah. The air was more crisp, almost fresher in a way. Maybe it's because of the elevation or maybe it's all that melting snow but whatever it is, the freshness of it all is invigorating. Well, whatever. All that matters is that I feel more energized than back in Oregon.

Keeping my eyes on the road, I casually glance over my new surroundings, taking in that small town look that seems so much more homely. Quaint. For some reason, I felt like this place is going to be boring.

The buildings are probably a hundred years old or something. Really, they're all solid colors with practically no advertisements. Well, there is that one construction site over there but that doesn't count as it's probably the first building being built here in fifty years or something.

I turn a corner, heading for the highway where I had at least seen some businesses. Slowing down, I come upon a large outlet mall and right over there is the video store. Hmm, there's a lot of parking and very little of it is being used. Not my problem.

I pull up to the store and shut my baby off, kicking open the kickstand and letting it lean to a side. As I'm getting off of it, I pause because I could have sworn I heard someone call out "Fag!" but that's probably my imagination. I stroll over to the video store, my helmet tucked under my arm, looking as relaxed as I could.

Showing that you're nervous was either a sign you're a loser or you're new. If you walk like you own the place, people will either think you're a local or attractive. Confidence, man. If you didn't have it, then you might as well live in your parents' basement for the rest of your life.

I don't show any irritation as I hear the jingle of a bell announce my entrance into the store. One glance around and I can see that this place isn't loaded. It would have some new releases, sure, and maybe some of the stuff that was rented often but if you're looking for something specific, odds are you won't find it.

I take long steps, moving casually through the store detectors. I roll my eyes at them; why the hell would someone try to steal a video that probably has been used by a hundred people and scratched to hell? You'd have to be retarded or something.

Then something catches my eye that's definitely way better than any movie I could find. And how could you not notice it? It's a girl with short, pink hair for crying out loud! The clothes aren't important since I can tell she's wearing the store uniform. Hmm, what else can I figure out about her?

From the outside, she looks calm. That probably means she's either comfortable in this place or that she's a pleasant person. That calmness extends all over her body from what I could tell so that probably means she's just comfortable in her setting. I need to get in closer, see what else I could detect.

Her eyes, they're this grayish green color but color isn't really important. No, it's the shape of her eyes and the hue and from that I can see that she's a trusting person. She's also tranquil as her eyes aren't darting to and fro. They were totally clear, as if she was innocent and naïve.

Hmm, interesting…

I can feel my body stirring and I know, oh yes, I know what I want. Time to put on the moves. I even have a good opening to use so that I can approach her in the first place. You have to lull them into complacency before you go in for the kill. If they don't see you coming, they're more likely to let you get in close and that is just one step closer to winning the game.

Not to brag or anything, but I've done this so many times that I have it honed into an art itself.

I lean against the counter, not in front of her but more to the side of her so that I wouldn't spook her. "Hey, what movies would you recommend?" I ask. That's step two there. Start with a neutral topic, preferably something boring and mundane.

Hmm, from this distance, I can see that her hair is uneven, as if she had gotten into a fight with a pair of scissors and lost. "Uh, what?" the girl asks, surprised that I'm standing right next to her. It's almost like she hadn't even seen me.

I quirk my lips just right… "Movies. I was wondering if you knew any good movies. I'm new in town and I'm trying to get settled in. Just thought a good flick might help me settle in."

The girl smiles softly at me. "I don't know…you may not like what I would choose."

I tilted my head just so, making sure to slightly widen my eyes. "Oh? How would you know that? For all you know, we could have the same tastes."

"Oh, sorry about that," the girl apologizes. "I don't think I've met a person who would enjoy horror movies."

"Like Freddy Krueger?" I ask.

"Oh, just any kind," she says airily, as if she is thinking about them right now. Getting lost in your own world, huh?

"Really? And what do you have that you think I would enjoy?" I press gently. "Think about it. Tell me what's really good."

"Well…" she bites her bottom lip, her eyes taking on that glazed look of someone thinking really hard. "You could go for a classic like Idiotic Teenagers Getting Slaughtered or maybe something new like You're in a Horror Movie Stupid."

"Those sound very generic to me," I comment, doing my best to look thoughtful, as if I actually knew what I'm talking about.

"Maybe," the girl says, "but they are staples of the horror genre. Maybe you need something more intense. What about Gorefest 2007?"

"Don't you think that might be a bit…gory?"

"A bit gory? There's not enough gore in it!" the girl replies heatedly.

"Okay, okay," I hold my hands up in mock surrender. "Take it easy there. Now, is there anything else?"

"Well, maybe Evil Dead," she shrugs. "I mean, there's a lot of movies out there and it's so hard to chose just one."

"I get it," I reply. "I guess I just didn't expect a pretty little thing like you to be such a fan of that kind of stuff. I guess that's what I get when I assume, right?"

I can see a slight pinkening of her cheeks; Christ this is too good to be true. I have barely gotten started and already she's showing signs of being flustered. To be honest, this is going to be easy but first, let's draw it out a little bit more. To makes things a bit more…interesting.

"Oh, and before I forget," I add, turning slightly so as to make it seem like I'm going to look for something, "and I know this is going to sound bad but please, try not to think anything less of me for it, okay?"

"Don't worry, if you're looking for the mature section, it's right behind that curtain in the back," the girl told me. Whoa, it's like she was reading my mind or something. "You're not the first to try and ask that question, you know."

"You're a doll, you know that?" I say with sincerity. No really, I am grateful I didn't have to ask where the porno is. Sure I might not show that I'm concerned with what other people think of me but when it comes to putting on the moves, you gotta show some humility or else all the girls are going to think you're some disgusting pig. So, I add a warm smile to my face, which I've been told really lights up my green eyes to the point they look like jewels. Hey, I'm just repeating what I've been told.

"It's not a problem," she says shyly as she looks away from me, her face reddening slightly.

Now I know I've got her.

"You know this town, right?" I ask. "How about I give you my number so that you can reach me, eh? I don't have anything going on until school starts around here so if you want to show me around, you can give me a call."

"Are you serious?" the girl asks and really, she sounds so honest about it, like she can't believe this is actually happening to her.

"Do I look like I'm pulling your leg?" I ask, leaning towards her slightly and intensifying my gaze just enough to get her blood boiling. I reach for something to write on and I happen to grab a gift card or something. I scratch down that seven digit number, though no area code included. "You can reach me here at anytime," I tell her as I slide the packaged card to her. "Now, I'm gonna go find something to watch. Are you going to still be here when I get back?"

She nods her pretty little head, her face the color of a tomato. Score, baby, score.

I don't really pay attention to what I grab with the exception of the porno. I spot a favorite of mine and so I snatch it up right away; it should really get me in the mood and maybe get me into the mindset of unpacking some special items I have stuffed somewhere in my packed away shit.

A minute later, I'm checked out and going through the door but I turn around just enough to shoot pink-hair a casual wink that got her blushing all over again. Not bad for my first day here.

As I get onto my bike and strap my helmet onto my head, I think to myself that I'm going to like it here. I have a new start with so many new people to meet.

They don't have a clue what's about to hit them.

Author's Note: Alright, here is the submission form. Allow me to clarify something up first. When you fill out part called "What would seduce them:" what I mean is how can someone flirt with them/attract them. For example, the pink-haired girl in the above chapter (CherrySlim's Sunny Grain) was engaged with talk about movies. Her guard is down now, making her easy to be seduced. Also, the "possible plotline" is nothing more than you giving me suggestions of subplots and how that OC would act within it. For example, in SITHE, Damien has kinda forced Kyle into a relationship with him; how would your character act or become involved in such a situation? This is NOT a required field you need to fill out but it would be nice if you did.

Name:

Gender:

Appearance:

Clothing:

Personality:

Likes:

Dislikes:

Friends:

Enemies:

Crush:

Basic History:

What would seduce them:

Possible plotline:

Other:

OCs used:

Sunny Grain - CherrySlim