(*Author's Note* This story is rated M for fictional violence, historical content which may be difficult to read for some, hard yaoi /boy on boy/, Rape, and later on, gorey murder. The Marsh's will not be a part of that gore, I am sparing that much. There will be a few beatings, war scenes, and possible anorexia and starvation scenes. Read at your own will, leave me comments and ratings, I hope you enjoy my story and PLEASE tell me if I need to elaborate more. I AM writing this second chapter because it was requested for me to continue. Thank you all for reading.)

Kyle tried to breathe, he wanted to, but his fear restricted him. Everything he was afraid of, all of it, was becoming his reality. He desperately wanted to fight the Nazi boy, give him a piece of his mind and get his revenge… But the Jewish boy was smarter than that. He knew that if he did anything like that he'd get his ass kicked, or worse, killed. He refused to allow that to happen. He had to stay strong, even if that meant-

"I knew he was lying. . ." Eric smirked, interrupting Kyle's thoughts. He removed his boot from the Jew's head, leaning down. The ginger boy gave a pained gasp for air, internally expressing a relieved feeling, but his relief definitely arrived too quickly. Just as fast as this feeling had come, it vanished with the Nazi reaching down to grip Kyle's wild curly hair in his gloved hand, pulling his head up with a sharp tug. He earned a whine of pain from the boy, which only made the sociopath smirk wider.

Kyle's emerald eyes met Eric's golden ones, his own filled with tears and a tremendous amount of fear. The officer's, on the other hand, were filled with complete lustful intruigment, his expression reflecting how much this encounter pleased him.

"P-Please. . ." Kyle begged quietly, his voice cracking with fear and insecurity. "D-don't h-hurt me. . ." he closed his eyes tightly as Eric leaned his face closer to the Jewish boy's, examining him with a sickening detail. His smirk didn't fade, not a bit, his expression only fluctuated through the emotion in his eyes.

"Give me a good reason why I shouldn't," he said smoothly, releasing Kyle's hair and kicking him sharply in the chest, causing the boy to fall back on the ground. The Jew clutched his chest and sobbed, attempting to regain the wind that was knocked out of him. He looked up at Eric with a pained expression, his eyes pleading for mercy.

"Answer me, Jew!" he demanded, Kyle only managing to respond with the slightest of whimpers. He inched backwards, as much as it took to press his back against the closet wall, hugging his knees close to his pained chest. He was surprised the Nazi allowed him to move, but he didn't realize this was because he had given the taller boy what he wanted by completely cornering himself. Cartman scowled and stepped closer, leaning down again so his face was close to Kyle's. He lifted the smaller boy's chin with a slight jerk, demanding eye contact.

"Fine. . ." Eric smirked evilly, standing up again after a moment of examining Kyle's expression. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his handgun, reloading it with a few reoccurring 'clicks.' The Jewish boy trembled at the noise, pulling his knees as close as humanly possible. For whatever reason, it gave him the slightest sense of security... being able to control his body… and due to the current situation, that was the only thing he could control. Everything was. . . Unpredictable.

"Your silence tells me that you have no reason."

"If you really wanted to kill me, you would have done it already. . ." Kyle said under his breath. By that, Eric was curious. An unexpected confidence from the boy.

"Are you doubting that I'll kill you? Because believe me, I will."

The Jewish boy sat up, looking Cartman dead in the eyes. His strong-willed personality had returned to him for the moment, even though tears were still running down his cheeks. He was angry- no, beyond that- furious.

"You have taken. . . everything from me. And you still want more. All the things I care about, and even worse-" he spat, "-my best friend's life. How could dying possibly be any worse than that?" There was a small pause, Kyle's expression turning into a frown, his brows furrowing slightly. "I think you haven't killed me because you're all talk. . . Regardless, you're a sick bastard." He croaked out the end.

Eric was frozen, immensely shocked. Never, in all his time on the Earth, had anyone talked to him that way. Ever. Without hesitation he returned to reality, gave a frightening expression and charged the Jew, planting his boot firmly on his chest and shouted random, indiscriminable words while punching him repeatedly in the face until there was blood and endless screaming. A prime example of how Eric Cartman handled his anger… a perfect candidate for a Nazi officer. Once he calmed himself, he raised the gun once again and panted out.

"I am going to fucking kill you, you filthy J-"

"Then do it you fucking prick!" Kyle sobbed out. To him, death would be the best option, and he would do anything to acheive it quickly. Cartman's eyes widened slightly, his eyebrows furrowing and his scowl returning. How, after all of that, could this kid have any sass left in him.

"No. . ." He hissed, gripping the Jewish boy's shirt and lifting him up so he was standing, then slamming him mercilessly against the wall. Kyle made a noise of fear, his spark of bravery leaving him as his head crashed against the cement wall. This was bad... 'No. . .?' he thought as Cartman's hand pressed hard against his chest, pinning him so tightly to the wall he could not even attempt to move.

"You deserve. . . much worse than death. . ." Eric's smirk was beyond maniacal, his expression murderous. It was obvious he had never been defied before, due to the fact he had a glint of confusion in his stone - like eyes. "Killing you would be…far too simple. . ." He put his gun away with his free hand, still holding the boy against the wall with the other. His tone of voice was terrifying, gravelly and deep. It was enough to make someone wish they could drop dead.

"I'm going to do you a favor, Jew boy. . ." he went close to his ear, whispering his next words. "I'll teach you a bit of goddamn fucking respect. . ." Kyle's eyebrows furrowed, his eyes closing.

"I dare you to try, you fat piece of shit. You can't teach respect if you don't have any. . ."

The Nazi glared slightly, barely keeping himself in check. "You know. . ." Eric seethed, his nostrils slightly flared. "I'm getting really fucking tired of listening to you speak. . ." He kneed him with incredible force, once again knocking the air out of the boy. Kyle gasped for air, his back arching slightly and his eyes closing tightly. God the pain…

"See? That's much better. . ." he smirked again, picking the Jewish boy up and slinging him over his shoulder like he was a log of wood. Kyle's eyes widened at this action, and once his breath slightly returned to him, he attempted to argue.

"N-No! Put me down!" He fought, punching Eric's lower back repeatedly as he began walking out of the home. This action only made Cartman hold him with greater force, until Kyle hit him right on his spine, a partial pressure point. Eric seized up for a moment and hissed, making sure his grip was painful.

"I said put me down you fat piece of fuck!" He cried out.

At this point the two were outside, the cold air seeping through their clothing. Kyle looked uncomfortable and gave a small gasp, shivering a bit.

"What did I tell you about talking!" Eric snapped, putting the boy down and shoving him roughly against the side of his 1930's Volkswagen. The only reason Officer Cartman had his own car was to hold the supplies he was instructed to collect from the homes he invaded. It was also used to transport the captured Jewish people to their, in his eyes, 'proper' place.

Kyle struggled, squirming a little and making quiet grunts of effort. Eric, who was completely tired of this nonsense, punched the boy as hard as he could in the balls. The Jewish boy groaned and toppled over, grasping his hands over the area. Cartman just shook his head and sighed slightly.

"Useless Jew. . ." Eric mumbled, opening the car door and pulling out some cloth and rope. He held the rope in between his legs, ripping the cloth in half lengthwise. He threw one half away before stopping Kyle from making his slow crawl escape. Dumb ass…

"I-I'm not u-usel-less you a-" Kyle's words were cut off and replaced with a whine of protest as Cartman put the cloth over his mouth, the fabric slightly going into his mouth. The Nazi boy tied it around the back of his head tightly, triple knotting.

"What about shut up-" he grabbed Kyle's hands roughly and tied his small wrists tightly together with the rope. He did not bother to be gentle, not caring if he was giving him rope burns. "-Do you not understand. . ." Eric grimaced, shoving the boy into the car and slamming the door shut. Kyle made a few muffled noises, his eyebrows furrowed deeply and tears taking over his eyes once again. Great, an even smaller space than the closet.

Eric had gone back inside, stepping over Stan's puddle of blood to get into his room. He picked up the supplies, specifically leaving behind a jug of gasoline and a box of matches on the floor. He then walked back out to the car, loading the trunk with the stolen treasures. After doing so, he returned to the house, picking up what he left behind. He opened the jug of gasoline and took a long, deep sniff of its' wretched scent.

"Mmm. . ." he hummed, a smirk curving his lips as he made his way back out to the room where he had murdered the Marsh family.

"Farewell, Marsh home. . ." he said in a mocking tone, pouring the gasoline all over the floor, making sure to get a decent amount into Stan's blood. The Captain walked back to the front door once the bottle was empty, throwing it on the floor. He opened the box of matches and lit three of them, his smirk growing wider.

"Heil Hitler," he said under his breath as he threw the matches into the home, running out of the house to ensure his safety. He stopped running once he got to his car, not even turning around before he got in. He then looked back at Kyle with a smug expression. But oh, when the sound of explosion and devastation hit the Jewish boy's ears, the expression on his face was like candy for Cartman. He wanted more of the boy's pain, his tears… it all fed his ego, made him crave it.

Kyle stared out the window with wide eyes, unable to suppress his sobs. Everything was gone. That's what Cartman wanted. Everything. The red headed teen had a new hatred, one he had never felt in his entire sixteen years. He would get back at him somehow. While Kyle had been thinking, Eric had started the car, driving away from the burning building. He was proud of himself, and that was the sick part.

The Marsh home was engulfed in flames, and he didn't give a fuck about it, nor would he ever.