Chapter 3
"It's the fear of the dark it's growing inside of me that one day will come to life. Have to save my beloved there is no escape because my faith, is horror and doom"

"I do believe that could have gone worse," the soldier said as he closed the door behind him just as he and the Commandant stepped into the small office. His superior let out a huff as he rounded to the back of his desk, opened a drawer and took out a small piece of cloth.

"Are you kidding? I thought it went great, did you see the fear in their eyes after I shot that guy? I think I made quite a statement for myself," Cartman said with a twisted smirk as he began to carefully clean the blood off of his freshly fired gun. "And I believe I got my point across, don't you think so Craaaig?" the soldier rolled his blue eyes at the way his superior drug out his name.

"We're not in school anymore Cartman, stop saying my name like that," Officer Craig said with a bit of smugness to his nasally tone.

"Ay! That's Commandant Cartman to you Craig, you may be my first officer but you still will respect authoritah, my authoritah," Cartman placed his now clean gun on the desk while his first officer again rolled his eyes.

"What did you need to speak to me about, Commandant Cartman?" Craig said with as much emphasis as he could muster without sounding disrespectful in the eyes of his superior. Cartman seemed pleased and smiled widely.

"Better," Cartman walked over to a small table in the corner that bore several glasses, a tall glass bottle with amber liquid and a bucket of ice. Cartman plucked a few cubes out of the bucket into a glass, took the topper out of the bottle and poured him a small glass. "Craig?" Cartman offered the raven haired soldier gesturing with his glass in his hand.

"I shouldn't, and technically neither should you sir," this time, it was Cartman's turn to roll his eyes.

"Oh please, Craig, don't be such a pansy, I'll be 21 in October," Cartman waved his free hand in a dismissive manner. "Besides, being Commandant of a concentration camp definitely has its perks, perks that over look ones age," Cartman winked at his fellow man and then took a sip of his drink.

"While that is all oh so fascinating, I would very much like to get to the point sir, I do have work to do as your first officer you know," Cartman couldn't help but chuckle at his attitude.

"You're such a cheeky bastard Craig," he took another sip of the amber liquid and then held it in front of him sloshing the ice around. "Would you consider us friends, Craig?" Craig eyed his superior in a questionable manner as if he was trying to choose his words wisely in case he were being led into a verbal trap.

"Sir?" Cartman sighed and stepped out from around his desk to approach Craig.

"We grew up together, went to school together, joined the regime and have risen through the ranks together. Would you consider us friends?" Craig stood his ground with his back straight and answered his commanding officer without hesitation.

"I do," this simple answer made Cartman smirk in amusement. The Commandant approached Craig closely with his free arm behind his back, it was as though his presence alone equaled that of a shark circling it's prey, waiting to strike at the right moment.

"And as your friend, Craig, there is something I know about you, something that is forbidden in this new world we wish to create and punishable by death," Cartman watched as Craig tensed and his eyes went to the gun on the desk behind his back and then clicked his tongue. "But I believe killing you would be a waste of a good soldier," at this he was amused when Craig visibly relaxed before him. "However, you were there at the welcoming," Cartman now leaned forward to whisper in Craig's ear. "You saw the same face in that crowd as I did, tell me Craig, will there be any problems?"

The Commandant felt his first officer tense again, saw his face pale, and could swear he saw his pulse quicken from the vein in his neck. He was panicking and Cartman relished in that fact. Cartman reached down to grip his first officer's wrist in warning. "If there is going to be a problem Craig I could just-"

"There won't be any problems Commandant Cartman. If you do not require my presence I will take my leave," Craig said avoiding his superiors gaze at all costs and tried his best to keep his collected shields up. Cartman smiled a little too widely when he made it back to sit behind his desk.

"I am relieved Craig, I didn't want to have to put in for a new first officer, dismissed," and with that Craig bowed and without a glance to him he left the office.

After Craig left, Cartman stared at the door with a twisted smile on his face. He knew Craig was scared, not only from his demeanor, but because when he grabbed his wrist he secretly took his pulse. Oh yes, he was scared, perhaps terrified, and that simple feeling filled Eric Theodore Cartman with so much delight. Fear was the ultimate manipulator in his opinion. With fear comes control, and with control comes power; and power was almost euphoric to Cartman. But what is fears greatest adversary? Hope.

The Nazi took a swig of his apple juice, yes, apple juice. Even in his other dwellings before his position at this camp, it was always apple juice he kept on hand so that all his company would mistake it for whiskey; no one was ever brave enough to actually take a drink from the sadistic commander less it be poisoned. Truth be told Cartman never had had a drink in his life, even his adult life, and he never would; his reasons were his own.

Once his glass was empty he walked over to refill it and then made his way over to the window of his small office that overlooked the grounds. With his hands behind his back he looked down at the prisoners below. His eyes scanned the sea of stripes until they found their target; a mass of deep red curls. That filthy Jew that him and his men came upon on their way to this camp. They weren't even supposed to take that detour but the Commandant had his own reasons for going to that farm and as fate would have it, it was a good thing they did. Stumbling upon another set of Jews for his camp was a nice bounty.

However, Cartman knew this Jew would be a problem. Just in the very minuscule time frame that Cartman had dealt with this guy, he didn't know his name or ID for that matter, he knew this guy had spirit and a spark inside him that instinctively caused him to want to protect those he cares about. Cartman knew this, he used to be like this. So naïve, so very naïve. The only way to get anywhere in this world is to watch out for you, yourself; worrying about others was futile. Cartman would make sure this Jew realizes that.

There was something else Cartman noticed about this Jew, something that he hadn't seen in any other Jew in a very long time; fears greatest adversary, hope. After being captured, after being separated from his mother, even after seeing a man shot at point black range, he still had a spark of hope in those emerald eyes of his. Hope was a very dangerous motivator and could cause a man to walk blindly into death. Cartman chuckled at that and watched as the young man walked into the barracks. "Let him have his hope for now, he will break. They all do," but he knew this one would take time, he knew it when the Jew met his gaze at the welcoming. He looked at the Commandant with such defiance that it was sickening. He wasn't aware he was squeezing his glass so tightly until it was too late and it crushed in his hands. "Shit," Cartman cursed finding only a single cut on his finger while all the juice and glass shards were on the hardwood at his feet. Leaving the mess on the floor he made his way to an adjacent bathroom to wash his sticky and bleeding hand. "Guess I don't know my own strength," he said in amusement. Once his hand was clean he grabbed a towel to dry it but when he stared down at his appendage he remembered something from earlier.

When Commandant Cartman grabbed the Jew by his wrist to prevent him from running to his mother he felt something he never had before, at least not for many years. Warmth. Normally when he touched anyone, be it Jew or his fellow soldier, they always felt cold to him; long ago he had accepted that everyone was just dead on the inside, what other explanation was there? But this Jew, he was warm, so warm. And that frightened Cartman, frightened him enough to actually let go of the Jew; luckily he was struggling enough that it looked like he yanked from his grip. This Jew was without a doubt going to be trouble. "Well, I do like a challenge."

+++

Kyle had always been a light sleeper, even before his family went into hiding, so of course he heard the small noise coming from inside the barracks sleeping room. Without any indication from a clock to know what time it was, all Kyle knew was that it was sometime in the early morning hours; three, maybe four? At first Kyle tried to ignore the noise since later that morning their first day working as prisoners would officially start, but he couldn't ignore it enough to fall back asleep. Kyle sat up on his very small mattress and looked around the darkened barracks for the source of the noise. Once his eyes were able to adjust to semi see in the darkness he noticed a young man that looked his age pacing back and forth, chewing on this thumbnail, and muttering to himself.

Instinctively the red head went to stand but a hand grabbed his arm to pull him back down. His father. Gerald shook his head when his son met his gaze as if to tell him to stay put and just leave the boy alone. "I'll be fine papa," Kyle assured him as he lightly brushed off his father's concerned hand. Instead of going back to sleep, Gerald remained awake to keep a watchful eye over his son.

Kyle carefully approached the young man with silent foot steps, a feat he mastered from years of dancing. He was close enough to hear the males muttering of 'they're gonna get me!'

"Excuse me, are you-"

"Gah! Oh I'm sorry! I wo-woke you up didn't I? I'm al-always doing that. Sorry I'll try to be quieter," he turned around to walk away from Kyle but Kyle gently grabbed his shoulder, an action he regretted when the boy shrieked and backed away in fear.

"Shut up freak!" a random man cried out and suddenly Kyle witnessed a shoe being chucked at the boy next to him.

"Hey! Leave him alone," Kyle didn't yell but definitely was much louder than the whisper he planned on using.

"He's a freak, kid, just forget about him. He does this every night and it's a flipping miracle the guards haven't come in and beat him to a pulp yet. I tell you we're sure close."

"Gah! N-no please!" the boy shrieked and twitched at Kyle's side.

"God just shut up and talk normal," and then came another shoe aimed at the boy, but Kyle blocked it with his own body. "Stupid kids," the man grumbled and seemed to return to his slumber. Kyle couldn't see the man but did glare in the general direction he heard his voice from, then turned back to the boy behind them.

"Are you ok?" Kyle asked in concern. The boy twitched again.

"Why di-did you do that? They are ri-right. I'm a freak," Kyle was ashamed in himself that he looked at the boy with pity, but his heart went out to him. What had happened to this young man to make him so twitchy and panicky? Poor guy.

"Don't listen to them, and I did it because it was the right thing to do, something people have forgotten about during these times," Kyle said the first part proudly, but the second his voice faltered. "Will you come sit down with me?" Kyle asked offering his hand to the boy. He figured he wouldn't touch him again without permission, he decided he was lucky he didn't receive a black eye. The boy nodded, took Kyle's hand with his own and he immediately noticed it was shaking. Kyle gave him a tight squeeze of assurance, hoping the boy would take it as a sign of trust and peace.

Kyle led the boy over to his families bunk and had them both sit on the floor off to the corner. "Will you tell me your name?" Kyle thought he would start off small and simple. The boy gripped his hair and twitched again.
"818601," the Jew tilted his head and smiled sadly.

"Not your number, your name," but the boy began to panic again.

"Gah! But that's against the rules!"

"Shh," Kyle whispered while covering his lips with his index finger. "I was at the welcoming and heard the rules from that fat Nazi," Kyle's heart fluttered when he heard the boy chuckle at the insult he gave the Commandant; he figured he should keep going this way. "Never speak unless spoken to, never look a soldier in the eye," the whole time Kyle was whispering his best impression of Commandant Cartman and the boy continued to giggle. "And my personal favorite, respect meh authoritah!" Kyle went a little overboard in the theatrics at the last part, but it had the other boy on his side with laughter so he figured him looking and sounding stupid was a good price to pay. Laughter was a huge step from panic.

When the boy calmed down he sat up and took a deep breath. "Tweek, m-my name is Tweek,"

"Tweek? Is that a nickname?" Kyle asked since the name did sound pretty unique. Tweek shrugged.

"I can't remember, it's been Tweek for so long that I just feel like it's always been my name," Kyle nodded in understanding. It was just like Butters, they had called him Butters since they were kids he would often forget his name was actually Leo.

"Well it's nice to meet you Tweek, I'm Kyle," they shook hands and both smiled, even though they could barely see in the darkness. "Tweek how long have you-" but Kyle stopped when the moon shined into one and only tiny barred window in the room. Tweek had blue eyes, and blonde hair, sure his hair stuck out at all ends and looked like constant bed head, but it was still blonde. "You're not a Jew?" it was more a statement than a question yet Tweek answered it like one.

"N-no I'm not," this confused the red headed Jew. The Nazi regime kidnapped more than just Jews? Their own kind?

"But I thought the Nazi party wanted a master race? Aryan?" Tweek's eye twitched and he scratched the back of his head.

"G-guess I'm a flaw in their system, you see how I am. They don't want someone like me infecting their race. I'm a freak so th-they locked me away," that made sense to Kyle, horrible and wrong, but it made sense.

"Stop it, Tweek,, you're not a freak," he tried to assure the blonde. Tweek hung his head and rubbed his thighs with his bitten nubs.

"Then what am I?" Kyle answered him without hesitation.

"I would like to call you my friend," Tweek's head perked up and he had the most wide and stupid smile on his face.

"You-you don't want me as a friend. Gah! So much pressure," his mouth and shoulder twitched but yet he was still smiling.

"Tweek if we're going to make it through," he paused for a moment unsure of the right words to use but ultimately decided upon, "Our long work days with those Nazi bastards we'll need friends to keep us strong. I'll help look after you, what do you say Tweek?" after he said the words he noticed water forming in Tweek's eyes. "I'm sorry did I say something wrong?" Tweek shook his head.

"No, you just sounded like a friend I once had, but he's gone now," Kyle wasn't sure if Tweek noticed, but he definitely did. When he spoke of this friend he didn't stutter once; he must have been a really important person to the blonde if he didn't stutter when talking about him. Kyle knew better than to press the matter, he said his friend was gone and he'd leave it at that. "I-I would like to be friends K-Kyle."

"I'm glad."

Kyle and Tweek talked for a bit longer about each other. Kyle shared his passion for dance with the boy, and he in turn told Kyle that he had a coffee addiction since he was very young. It was because of the abundance of that caffeine that caused Tweek to have horrible anxiety and paranoia that only got worse as he got older. At first Kyle only wanted to protect his family, but now he wanted to protect Tweek. No one else around seemed to care about him, he told him his own family even turned him in to the Nazi soldiers, he needed someone and Kyle wanted to help him.

When they finally decided to go to bed he informed Kyle that his own bed had been taken over and usually slept on the floor or just paced all night because of his paranoia. "Not tonight," Kyle simply said. So they found themselves sleeping back to back in Kyle's small bed, falling asleep as new friends to await the first day of work under the new Commandant.