AN:/ Hellur! I'm sorry I didn't update yesterday. Don't hate me /).(\ After I got home today I had so many things planned! (Playing Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time for the millionth thousandth time.) I have a life you know! (No. I don't.. ._.) But then I didn't want to have to go two full days without updating seeing as some of you guys are really liking the story which makes me SOOO happy! You have no idea. I smile like a fat kid in a candy store..owait..I smile like me in a candy store! c: This chapter is going to be really short I do apologize for the inconvenience. Well, enjoy!

Chapter 3

I never thought that I'd wish I was dead so much in my lifetime. It's excruciating. At this moment, I just want to do something idiotic so that they way they'll throw me into the gas chamber and allow me to not have to bare with what i am about to.

Eric Cartman. I don't think I'll ever be able to call him that. Now, I have to refer to that fat bastard as Commandant Cartman. Is this some sort of sick joke? Is this all a prank? Am I dreaming perhaps? No. Even so, what is he going to do to me? Kill me? Make me work for 22 hours every day? Let me eat once a week? What? WHAT?! He's literally driving me insane. But maybe that's what he wants. To get inside of my head. I won't let it happen. Never. I'll die before that happens.

"Hell has come.." I remember those words. And as I look around the camp, I now realize what they meant. And soon, I'll be experiencing it.

"Hello everybody!" Cartman gives a not-so winning smile, "I, and some of these fine other men and woman, are your Commandants. You will obey us, and you will not get harmed, simple as that. That's right, you must obey us. You," he points to a stranger in the crowd, "you," another stranger, "and...you," he points again with a fierce grin. This time, he pointed directly at me. I grip my teeth together and let out a silent growl. That fucking bastard. "Now! Time to get your clothes! Move! Shnell!"

Nazi officers roughly separate the woman from the men and lead them to us to the outhouses that our supposed to be our "homes." We our only given a few seconds to take our current clothes on in exchange for these raggedy, used clothing. You grab as many articles as clothing as you can before everybody else takes them. It's freezing outside, so the more clothing you get, the better. I manage to scrap up some torn leggings, baggy, over-sized, denim jeans, gloves that cut off at the knuckles, a stained yellow t-shirt, a airy, plaid button up, and a woolen red scarf. I'd say I scrapped up pretty good. I tried to grab a crumpled up green beanie because it reminded me of my old hat back at home, but I wasn't quick enough. As we are literally thrown outside, we see the woman getting their hair cut off, not shaved though. The officers almost yank our hair out inspecting for lice. Anyone with lice, had to get their head shaved. Only two or three had to get shaved. Next, we were lined up in the tattooing room. Once it was my turn, I started growing sick to my stomach. I have very little pain tolerance. Finally, I feel the pin-sharp needle shredding my skin apart, leaving ink in the shreds. I literally scream until my voice cracks. The pain is so excruciating I vomit all over the floor.

"You're toast," the tattooist chuckles.

"Pardon me?" I snap.

"Throwing up because a tattoo? Boy, you better man the fuck up. Only the tough survive in this place. Do you want to survive?" he raises a brow. Why is he trying to help me? Aren't they suppose to WANT us to die? But what he says makes some sense. I nod me head and he gives a nod of approval back. We are directed back to our outhouses and instructed to find a space to sleep. Almost every bed in crammed full. Eventually, me and that boy from the boxcar find a bed and lay down. Well, Mr. Garrison knew what he was doing when he showed us that video. I can feel the springs protruding into my back. There's no pillow either.

"I never got your name.." the boys quiet voice crosses the uncomfortable mattress.

"Kyle," I choke out after a moment of silence.

"I'm Stan," he says with glee. I pull off a fake smile. Stan. That hit me right in the heart. I miss Stan so much. I wonder what he's doing back in Europe right now. I wonder if he's okay. I hope he's not worried about me, he tends to have panic attacks. "Have I upset you?" he must have noticed my hurt expression.

"No..its just...My best friend back homes name is Stan.." I look down at my hands which rest on my shaking chest.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, you can call me Nats?" he pulls a reassuring grin. I let out a quiet "Okay" and smile a little. Wow. That's the first time I've actually smiled since upon arrival. It feels kinda good. I lightly close my eyes and begin drifting off.

"Kahl.." I twitch my nose at the alarming noise, but keep my eyes closed. "Kaaaaaaahl.." I begin to open my eyes squintely. "Kahl!" the voice raises to a silent shout. I snap my eyes open. Uh oh. Cartman places the back of his hand on my cheek. His warmth radiates onto my freezing skin. His warm hand gently glides down, stroking my face. I lift my head a little to see he is plopped right down on my stomach, knees pinning my arms down. I open my mouth to scream but he places a finger up to my lips, "Scream, and the guards will come and shoot your pretty little brains out," he strokes my face again. I don't fucking care if I get shot. They'll shoot him as well, he's committing an act of homosexuality. I let out a second long holler before he crashes his lips against mine in a desperate attempt to shut me up. I squirm restlessly trying to throw him off but its not use, he's too bulky for my scrony body.

In a way though, this is turning me on. Wait. What? No! This CAN'T be turning me on! Cartman takes his palm and places it on my chest. He gently glides in down to my stomach. I feel my erection grow. No! Fucking hormones! Stop! I feel Cartman smile in the kiss. His hand dips into my two layers of pants and briefs. I feel his hand just lightly touch my throbbing boner.

"GAH!" I gasp.

"Kyle? Shh! You almost woke everyone! What happened? Bad dream?" Nets stares at me with worried eyes.

"Yeah..uh..I'm fine..lets just go back to bed.." I breath heavily, trying to regain my regular heart beat. What the HELL is with all these dreams? I turn over on my side and feel slight discomfort around my area. I look down to see I have a grown erection. Dammit!

In the morning, we are all lined up in front a small table with a few big canisters of broth.

"Loose your bowl and you won't get another one.." the says dully, filling a small wooden bowl and placing a small plastic spoon in it, and hands it to me. I take the bowl from her grasp and slurp down the broth. The bowl is small enough to fit in the pocket of my plaid shirt so that's where I store it. We are then forced into fields where we have to dig up the ground in preparation for a train they are planning to build, they way, they can get more Jews to the camp, and quicker. Aside from the actual labor, the worst part is knowing that you're actually helping these Nazi bastards with a project that's going to cause more of my kind to bare the same suffer I am right now.