Have you ever looked through someone else's eyes? I have. I don't know how I ended up in South Park. I've never even been to Colorado before. Somehow though, I made it here. I think there was an accident – all I remember is waking up in a field.
But I wasn't me. Looking down, I no longer had breasts. I was flat, and the jacket I wore was red. I don't have a red jacket. I ran hands that weren't mine, through hair that didn't belong to me. Surprisingly, I was calm. I could hear a voice speaking to me, telling me that it was all right. It was a distinctly male voice, and I figured it had to be the owner of whoever's body I was possessing.
I've never had an out of body experience. I wondered if I was okay, where my body was. If I was dead, or if this was just some fucked up dream. I'd discover later, that strange things happening in South Park wasn't actually strange at all. It's a weird town, and every day is an adventure. In my time there, I'd grow to love it.
I tilted 'my' head back, closing my eyes as the snow fell. Somehow, here it seemed cleaner. It was covering everything. The ground, the tree's. I was in a field. Upon opening my eyes, I cast a glance around myself. There was no one else in sight.
I tugged my scarf tighter around my neck, burrowing my nose into it. Suddenly, I was walking. I suppose the usual inhabitant of this body was pushing us forward. I didn't have control of the motor functions anymore. Again, I was confused about why I wasn't scared. Something inside of me – him? – told me that if we kept going, we'd be okay.
The snow was rising rapidly, and I could hear him complaining. He was in my head, I know, but it sounded like he was muttering in my ear. I grinned at his complaints of how much South Park sucked as we trudged through knee deep whiteness. It was practically blinding – not that we could see anyway. It was like a sheet of white hanging in my face, above me, below me, around me. It was intense.
Eventually, a house became clear. I didn't notice it until we were almost fully up the front steps. Our hand reached out, turning the doorknob. The wind swung the door open, and I heard it bang off of something inside. There was a shatter. I think we broke a vase or something of that sort. Snow followed us in, billowing through our hair and taking off down the front hall. The carpets were already damp, and I could only wonder as to why.
Another loud noise started from somewhere deeper within the house. Moments later, a scared looking woman ran into the room. "Oh my God, Clyde. Are you okay? Oh my baby." She sobbed, grabbing us. She hugged us close to her chest, clinging as if she were afraid we'd disappear. I kept silent as the voice, who I now knew was Clyde, tried soothing her. He called her mom. I felt strange, like I was intruding on something private.
A man came next, from upstairs. With him, he had a flashlight and a small box of candles. There was a desperate look to his eyes. "Clyde." He said gruffly. I could only assume that this was his father.
"How are things?" We asked. The voice was solely his, but I was lending him some of my own curiosity. "Where is everyone?"
"Things aren't looking too good son." He said softly, running a hand over his hair. It looked to be a nervous habit. "Not good at all."
The door beside us opened, and a boy came through. He looked to be about my age. A relieved look fluttered across his face, before he replaced it with a rough expression. "Good, you made it." I could tell he had been worried about Clyde. "Everyone else is downstairs." He gave us a knowing look, like he was trying to tell us a secret with his eyes.
"We should go down there with them." His dad said, trying to push us and the new boy to the door.
The look on the other boys face was dangerous. He stared at us, eyes dark and hard. When our parents looked away, he shook his head no.
Clyde took control of our body again. We were rushing up the stairs as though our life depended on it – In our head I asked if it did. He didn't answer me.
We went into a small bedroom. Once we were inside, I realized that this Clyde person had to be a teenage boy, judging from the mess. We passed a mirror, and I was startled to see how similar we looked to the other boy.
"Brothers, I guess"
"We're twins actually." Clyde replied, his laughter bouncing off the inside of our head.
The door made a distinct clicking noise as the other boy shut it behind us. He flicked the lock, then fixed us with a firm gaze.
"We need to suit up."
"Suit up?" I had control now. In our mind, I pushed Clyde down so I could keep talking. "What are you talking about? What's going on?"
He ran his hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh. "This isn't the first time South Park has gotten snow like this. Randy found blue prints outlining a maze under the city. It's all tunnels under there. Kind of like a bomb shelter, but a city long. We're all connected down there. The mayor's been keeping it a secret. She was supposed to keep it stocked with food."
I kept our mouth quiet, staring at him through Clyde's eyes. I wanted him to continue. Clyde wanted to ask him how he figured this all out. "Manipulative bastard." He chirped inside our head.
"There's no food. You know how the Marsh's are. People are going crazy. We have to go down there and find some sort of food supply."
"What the hell can we do?" I asked, confused. Two teenage boys were useless. They wouldn't be able to save the day. I thought to myself that Clyde's twin – whose name I still hadn't caught – was delusional.
His hands slammed into our shoulder, shoving us into the wall. Our head banged against it loudly, nearly knocking over a framed photo from a porn magazine.
"Don't play fucking games with me Clyde! Now isn't the time for you to pussy out. Look, I know what you do okay? I know your secret and I fucking know that you know mine!" He shouted in our face.
Clyde took over quickly, mentally beating me into submission. As he regained control of his body, I felt a pain sear through my skull.
And then, I wasn't inside of him. I was near the bed, watching the two of them. I looked down at my legs, noticing that I could almost see right through them. Oh my God, I'm dead.
"It's not a game anymore is it Eric?" Clyde asked. His voice had dropped a bit, scratchy and gravelly. The two boys stared at each other, eyes serious. Clyde smiled, but it was one full of sarcastic, snarky attitude.
"No. It's not." Eric – I was grateful to finally know his name – smirked back and pulled away. "Now suit up. We have a job to do."
Clyde nodded and walked to his closet. A black suitcase was pulled out, and then he was changing. My cheeks flushed with color, but I couldn't bring myself to look away. When I had seen him, at first I thought he was pudgy. He still sort of was, but damn. He was fine.
I hadn't even noticed Eric had left; I had been so busy staring at Clyde. A few minutes later, he returned, pulling on tight black gloves. Metal glinted at the finger tips and I shivered. They looked dangerous. His mask was securely in place, and his voice held not a hint of amusement to it when he spoke. "Let's go."
I followed them silently as they made their way down the stairs. With the power out, the basement was pitch black.
Eventually, we made it to the basement. They had been tip toeing around loose steps, but I walked right over them, light as a feather. As soon as my feet hit the cement at the base of the steps, I felt that searing pain in my skull again. This time, when I sat, I smelt the scent of my own shampoo.
Okay, so I'm not dead.
I turned at the exact second Eric and Clyde went to open a door. Their parents were asleep, and I could see a bottle of pills lying on the floor. Eric had apparently drugged them. Somehow, that didn't surprise me.
Both boys froze as they stared at me.
"At least she's alive." Clyde growled. His voice was so different from what it had been when I was inside of him. It took me a minute to figure out that he was probably talking that way to hide his identity. Eric nodded beside him, and then sighed.
"Come on. You have to come with us. They'll just bug you when they wake up." He jerked his head in the direction of their parents, before shoving open the wall.
I stood and followed them, not talking once. They probably thought I was a mute. I just figured it would be better to stay silent, then to talk and mess things up for them.
"Do you have any idea where we're going?" Clyde growled, tapping his twin on the shoulder. The larger boy nodded.
"Yeah. I memorized the blue prints while I was waiting for you to get home Mysterion."
Mysterion? How...original.
Mysterion cleared his throat, indicating he was about to speak again, when someone interrupted.
"And just where do you two think you're going?"
"Professor Chaos" Eric growled.
"So we meet again." This...professor of sorts replied. He stepped from the shadows, the metal of his outfit glinting in the light from Eric's flashlight. "Hello Mysterion. Coon. How are you two tonight?" He laughed darkly, ignoring me completely.
When Eric – the coon's? – nails slashed out, I was suddenly glad that he did.
Mysterion shoved me out of the way as they attacked Professor Chaos together.
"Just like old times!" Professor Chaos laughed, blood dripping down his face. It was hard to see, and I realized that the Coon was beating him with the flashlight.
"God dammit Butters!" Mysterion snarled, trying to pin the Professor down.
"I'm. Not. Butters!" The name seemed to set him into a rage. There was a sound similar to those disgusting horror movie effects – ripping flesh. It happened again and again, before the flashlight swung down one final time.
Professor Chaos was silent, as Mysterion coughed and grunted in pain. The Coon brought him towards me, laying his head in my lap. "I need you to clean this." He pointed to a wound on his twin's leg, even as he started working on his chest.
Silently I did as told. Mysterion giggled and mumbled coherently, voice slipping back and forth from super hero tone, to Clyde tone. My heart ached as his words grew weaker.
"You have to go." He said finally, staring up at the Coon. "She'll stay with me...I'll be fine. You have to go get food. Make sure everyone's okay." He coughed once more, blood bubbling out of his mouth and nose. I looked away, unable to stomach the sight.
His breathing grew weaker as he clutched at his twins hand. Eventually, he stopped talking all together.
The Coon stood, fist slamming into a wall with such force, I was sure he broke his knuckles. He let out a choked noise, and stumbled away. "Stay there."
I did. I sat, holding Mysterion's head in my lap. I never once touched his hood, or spoke. I stayed in silence the only sounds around me being the echoing cries of the Coon's pain.