A/N

Okay, so maybe I'll update over twice a week. At first I thought I wouldn't be able to do it, but now I'm more open to the idea. Oh, and I'm going to try to make the chapters a bit longer as the first one was awfully short, although I suppose that chapter was kind of setting the scene, you know? Okay I'll stop rambling now, enjoy!

Ten minutes earlier...

"Damn," the Jewish man exclaimed as he tripped on the last step of the staircase leading to the basement. This was all a big nightmare, it had to have been. 'Maybe the people down at the news station were just pulling a huge prank on everyone, after all, Halloween had just passed and perhaps they had just wanted to give their viewers a good scare,' he thought to himself. But he just couldn't get over the fact that the attack looked so real.Upon finding the double barrel shotgun he was hiding – he had hid it on the top shelf as his family were all far too short to see up there – he grabbed it and checked the ammo. Full; perfect. Banging was suddenly heard from upstairs. Gerald sprinted up the wooden staircase to see his front door about to be torn off at the hinges and his usually brave spouse cowering under the dining table. He left the weapon on the oak table top in order to help Sheila out from under her hiding spot. "Are you okay?" he asked her calmly. "The kids are upstairs, right?"

The redheaded woman smiled through her tears and nodded. They both knew that they had to do whatever it took to keep those boys safe. He pecked her on the cheek and went to the kitchen to start packing food in case they needed to leave. Once he was happy with what he had packed, he began placing the snacks and beverages into Kyle's old school bag from last year that he had decided to dump by the trash can the other day.

CRASH

He jumped with fright and ran into the living room to see a group of about half a dozen of those things breaking through his door. It only took a couple of seconds and they were already in his house, making a beeline for Sheila. She was frozen in fear, looking straight into the eyes of the monsters coming towards her. One had pounced, biting straight into her collar bone, causing her crimson red blood to gush out in large amounts. Gerald ran straight towards her and grabbed what was once a man, trying to release her from its strong hold. He was struggling to get the monster off of his flailing wife. He couldn't reach the gun on time so he opted for the nearby menorah sitting atop the coffee table. He yelled, slamming the base of his makeshift weapon onto the skull of the predator. As if out of nowhere, another beast had made its way over, clamping it's almost severed jaw onto the balding man's forearm. He screamed as his blood mixed with Sheila's, both of them falling to the floor in a heaped, bloody mess. The group of bloodthirsty creatures gathered around the couple, tearing and biting at their wounded flesh.

Gerald looked over at the pained expression on his wife's face. She was gone. He, however, was still conscious, though barely. He took his last breath and whispered to the corpse of his spouse. "I... love... you."

It was at this point that the three young men had reached the living room. They looked at the sight ahead of them, too terrified to even shed a tear. Stan spotted the shotgun on the dining table just beyond the group feeding off of Mr. and Mrs. Broflovski. "Stay here," he whispered shakily to the traumatized siblings.

They nodded, eyes blankly watching the scene occurring in what was once their safe family room. Stan jogged quietly around the distracted predators. He picked up the gun, finally feeling grateful for all of the years Jimbo and Ned had insisted on teaching him and his friends how to shoot. He aimed the barrel at one of the monsters, pulling the trigger. This got their attention. They turned to face the raven haired teenager, moaning loudly. He shot another. Two down, three more to go. He quickly refilled the two barrels as the last three began limping towards him. Two more shots and only one was left standing. Once again, Stan tried reloading the gun. It wouldn't open.

"Shit!" he panicked, trying and failing to undo the stiff latch. The last creature was about a metre away and Stan had no way of defending himself. He was fucked.

SQUISH

He looked up to see his blood covered boyfriend holding the menorah his father had used. The cannibal had fallen to the ground. It was dead. "Let's get the fuck out of here," Kyle exclaimed, thankfully out of his panicked, shocked state and back to his usual self.

"Agreed," Stan nodded.

Sniffling was heard from behind them. They glanced back to see the eleven-year-old kneeling beside the blood covered bodies of his dead parents. Kyle dropped the menorah and slowly walked over to his crying brother. He knelt beside him, pulling him into his open arms. Ike accepted the hug immediately. Stan watched them, sadness taking over him. He decided to leave them to themselves for a bit, and walked into the kitchen. The first thing he saw was a school bag halfway filled to the brim with food, the rest stacked around it. He dashed over and began placing the rest of the items into the bag before zipping it shut and carrying it back to the living room.

"Ky," he said. Kyle looked up at him from his place on the ground, his eyes watery but a tear was yet to be shed.

"What's that?" he replied, pointing at the item draped across his boyfriend's shoulder.

Stan smiled sadly at him and strolled over, sitting down in front of them. He placed the old school bag on the blood covered floor and unzipped it. "Your parents packed this," he said quietly. "They knew we had to leave."

Kyle nodded and looked over at his little brother. "What do you think, Ike?" Ike kept his gaze on his parent's corpses that Stan made sure to sit in front of. He remained silent. "Ike," the redhead whispered, stroking the younger's hair.

Ike spoke after a couple minutes of silence, but it was inaudible. "What was that?" Stan asked carefully, placing his hand on Ike's knee.

"I don't want to leave them."

The couple locked eyes immediately, worry clearly shown in each pair. Kyle bit his lip in order to stop the tears from coming. He had to stay strong. Upon realizing that his boyfriend would probably break down again if he were to speak, Stan cleared his throat and began to talk to the younger Broflovski. "It's okay, dude," he spoke calmly. "We'll be okay, but we need to leave. It's not safe here. We can go to Kenny's house, it's just a couple of blocks away. He has a truck. Him and Cartman were supposed to be hanging out there today, so the five of us can get out of here, alright?"

Ike shook his head and stood up, running upstairs to his bedroom and locking it. "Ike!" Kyle yelled, following him. He banged on the door, demanding his brother to come out. "Ike, you're being ridiculous! Come out right now or you'll be in huge trouble!"

"What are you going to do?" he yelled back. "Ground me?" Kyle was about to respond, but was left speechless. "Ky," Ike said more calmly through the door. "I'm just going to hold you guys back."

"Ike, we're not leaving without you."

"Please, Ky."

"NO!"

"Kyle, Ike, come on! We have to leave before more of those fuckers come back!"

Ike unlocked the door and stepped into the hallway. He hugged his brother, role model, hero, and, overall, best friend, one more time. "I love you, dude," he smiled with tears in his eyes. "Now get out of here before you get killed." He entered his room once again, locking it a final time.

"Ike, please!" Kyle yelled. There was no response.

"Kyle, quickly!"

Kyle held back a sob and began walking towards the staircase. "I love you too, Ike."

A/N

I know Sheila was a bit OOC in this chapter, but I wanted Gerald to show his bad-ass side for once. Also, I know leaving Ike behind was a bit harsh, but I honestly had no place for him in this story. I didn't want to kill him off though. Anyway, thanks for reading!