I am well acquainted with darkness. Whether it is the darkness that welcomes me in my pathetic pit of a home, or when it faces me while I watch over the streets of South Park, wherever I go, a feeling of unexplainable evil looms over me. Even in death. I am Mysterion, guardian of all who reside in the town of South Park. When there is crime, I make it my duty to see to it that the perpetrators are put behind bars. Lately my job has been tough. I struggle to participate fully in school and work at combating South Park's record- high crime level effectively. But I must endure for the town's sake.
Perched on top of a building, I viewed the surrounding area, trying to spot the thief that had been reported stealing money from unsuspecting people. Tracking crime was the hardest part of the job. Without proper equipment, it would be nearly impossible to find. It was lucky then, that Sergeant Yates supplied Intel to my phone. The Intel that was given, usually consisted of the targets' race, clothing, and general location and direction, which was enough most of the time. This, however, was one of the times that it didn't help one bit. The described target had a mask, cloak, and an emblem of some kind on his chest. In fact the target sounded an awful lot like me; awesome.
Obviously, this was a little bit confusing.
"It doesn't make sense," I muttered while making sure that I read the message correctly. "Someone impersonating me is flattering, to say the least. But a thug impersonating me, well…, - that's just insulting."
Hours of wandering through the town made me want to give up for tonight. That is, until a message appeared on my phone.
Target spotted around main street-Sergeant Yates
I didn't waste time responding to Yate's message. Catching this impersonator before he ruined my alter ego's reputation was of the highest importance right now. Months of free- running on rooftops had built my stamina up, so that running around the town without taking a break wasn't such a hard feat anymore.
It took around four minutes for me to arrive at my destination: South Park's main street. I would never be able to spot the thug from the ground, getting to a higher position would be crucial. Scaling to the roof of Tom's Rhinoplasty was fairly easy. I often used the rooftop so that he could get a better angle of the town. But a better viewpoint didn't help me here. I checked the surrounding area repeatedly, but it seemed as if though the criminal had escaped. Sluggishly I pulled out my obsolete phone not eager to report that I had failed to intercept the thief. But the South Park police needed to be informed that the thief hadn't been caught, lest they simply dismiss the issue and continue to eat doughnuts and drink coffee while they let a mere boy handle the crime in the town.
I sighed; running all the way to South Park's main street without even catching the guy, was frustrating. My legs burned from the running around, and my arms were aflame from climbing.
"Maybe I should kill myself," was the first thought that came to mind once I realized that I would have to walk home. My legs felt as if there were hundreds of needles stuck in them, causing pain without an adrenaline rush to make the ache subside. Suicide was an alternative to walking home, because when I died I would "respawn" on my same old bed wearing my same old street clothes. No one would ever care about his countless deaths, so who would it be affecting? That was the worst part, it affected no one.
These legs of mine are the least of my worries now. The sound of footsteps approaching brought me out of my thoughts. The moon's light cast two shadows from the rooftop onto the pavement below, which gave further confirmation that I was not alone. Whoever was up here was giving me super-heated glare searing, it felt as if though the strangers glare was searing a through the back of my head. I decided stood up slowly, making sure that the person behind me knew that I was alert to his presence. A shroud of silence fell over the building as I zoned out all outside forces in order to better hear the stranger who was on the roof, just to make sure he wasn't about to attack. The silence was too much, so I would have to make the first move.
"I know you're there," I said, using a gruffer voice than usual in an attempt to make the stranger feel intimidated. "You're pretty loud; you know that? You sounded like a certain fat-ass I know, trying to sneak into a kitchen."
"I made my presence known on purpose, But it wouldn't have mattered if I did or not. You would have felt me coming anyway," said the unknown person's voice. I could tell that the voice of the person behind me wasn't really his own, it sounded too raspy. Either he was hiding it or his voice was disappearing.
"I'll take that last part as a compliment," I added. "May I ask what you want? If you want me dead, then I wish you luck on keeping me that way." If this dude could keep me dead, I would applaud him while being in hell or heaven, but many have tried to keep me dead; none have been successful.
"Don't worry; I'm not here to kill you, Mysterion."
"Well then, what are you here to do then? Didn't your parents ever teach you that it's rude to stare?"
"I'm here to warn you."
Still knowing nothing about the person behind me, he could still be a threat. Hopefully eye contact would deter the stranger from doing anything that he would regret. So I decided to turn around to see who the voice was coming from.
The golden emblem that adorned the unknown person's chest stuck out first, due to the moonlight which gave it a glossy look. The emblem was a pair of golden wings, which faced opposite directions and were separated by the black color of the boy's suit. The cloak covered the mysterious character's head and went all the way down to his feet and brushed on the ground. My own personal cloak was clean, but the stranger's cloak was covered in a coat of grime. But the thing that kept grabbing my attention was the boy's unkempt hair, which poked out beneath the confines of his hood. He couldn't tell if it was black or brunette, but he could tell that it was littered with some sort of clumped up substance, probably the same one that covered his cloak. Seeing the boy's face wasn't going to happen, if he was someone I knew it would be impossible for me to find out; his mask covered the tip of his nose to just above his eyebrows.
Then it hit me. The boy fit Yate's description.
Catching this guy would be the first criminal that I've caught tonight, so I couldn't risk making a wrong move that could potentially scare off the stranger.
"Warn me about what?" Surprisingly, I was more anxious than usual to see some action tonight, but all the while, I was still curious about what the thief had to say.
"Do you remember what happened 6 years ago?"
"A lot has happened in this town, you're going to have to be more specific."
"Cthulhu." The stranger stated plainly.
That sentence was all that was needed to bring back the memories of being trapped in Rhyleh. Memories of being hunted by the abominations that dwelled there forced themselves to the front of my mind. I remembered the hatred that I had towards the fat-ass that sent me and my friends there. But the worst memory was Mint-Berry fuckin' crunch. Those memories needed to be pushed back for now, so the task at hand can be focused on. I wanted to find out what Cthulhu had to do with anything.
"Of course I remember Cthulhu, everyone does. What about it?"
"You and the other guy, I forgot his name," The stranger paused for a second and looked up at the night sky. "The guy with the super powers."
"Mint-Berry Crunch," I said in an annoyed voice.
"Yeah that guy. You two sent Cthulhu who the hell knows where, and that pissed some people off, specifically the cult that worshiped the overgrown squid."
"The cult of Cthulhu," I couldn't help but begin wondering about the cult's whereabouts. The only members of the cult that had been seen after the whole incident were the goths. The rest of the cult had appeared to have just vanished. "So what if they're pissed that their murderous god was sent to oblivion? It's not like they did anything in the first place. They were all citizens of South Park, what harm can they do?"
"That's where you're wrong. They're at it again, with all the religious rituals and stuff. But that's not bad; the worst part is that they're stealing artifacts from museums in Colorado."
"A thief is worried about someone else stealing?" I replied while admiring the irony.
"So what if someone loses a couple bucks? I need it more but that's not important right now, what's important is what they're planning to do."
"Which is?" I turned around and faced the street; the sound of a screeching car had caught my attention.
"They want to bring the squid thing back." The stranger had a slight smile on his face, from anticipating Mysterion's reaction. Unfortunately he got nothing from the town's hero.
"And how exactly do they plan on doing that?" I didn't doubt the possibility of the cult suddenly arising to now set the stage for their gods return, but I did find it improbable.
"They said that they needed to find the catalyst whatever that is." The stranger lay on his back, continuing to stare at the stars.
"Why should I take the word of a criminal?" I moved closer to the stranger which caused him to lift his head up. If listening wasn't what I wanted to do anymore, the thief would be caught right here.
"I ran into them at the museum; the one in in Fort Collins." He laid his head back down.
"And you didn't report them? I said, slightly agitated that not only had the cult not been reported, but that they had gotten away with thefts.
"I didn't know that they were members of the cult until after I looked up some of the things I picked up in their conversation." I watched the stranger as he took out a miniature writing pad.
"What did they say?"
"They talked about Cthulhu rising again, and they said that they needed to find the catalyst; whatever that is. I also heard them talking about Mesopotamia and some of the other ancient civilizations. They said that they should check out some exhibit in the Denver museum." He tossed the notepad to me, so I began reading it over.
"There's going to be a Babylonian exhibit in Denver in a month or so." I replied while skimming all of the stranger's notes.
"Then I guess if you want to stop whatever they're planning on doing you should look there." The stranger slowly got up, and began moving towards the ladder that led up to the rooftop.
"Where do you think you're going?" I asked grabbing on his shoulders. This guy wasn't going to get off so easily, even though he helped me.
The boy sighed; "Hiding the money before talking to you would have been a smarter choice." He reached in one of his utility pouches and pulled out two measly twenty dollar bills which I grabbed out of his hands. "Jeez you got one hell of a grip," The stranger rubbed his shoulder .as I let go. "I should have that; those old geezers will be in the ground before they can spend any of it."
"That's not the point, the point is that you committed a crime and you should be held responsible." I said stuffing the money in my utility belt; "You're lucky that I'm not going to take you to jail right now."
"Whatever luck I can get, I'll take." He began to walk to the ladder again,
"Tell me about it." I replied while admiring the town's beauty. Up on this roof, you could see the town in its entirety. The mountains, Stark pond, the neighborhoods, it was perfect up here.
"Before I go, meet me up here tomorrow night, I've got more to tell you."
"Why didn't you tell me everything tonight?" I demanded, turning my attention back to the boy.
"Well one, it's like 4 o'clock in the morning and two, I needed a bargaining chip to get me out of jail if you brought me there."
I felt my eyes narrow automatically in annoyance. "Fine, be up here again by two o'clock if you're not here, I will find you and I will throw you in jail."
"Uh-huh." The boy yawned.
As the stranger disappeared, leaving me pondering on the roof, wondering about one question; was the cult actually back?
Thanks to all of you who read this. This is my first fanfiction ever so reviews would be greatly appreciated.