It's late in the afternoon when Butters gets up to his room. He had just finished dinner with his family and had been told he could use the last few hours of the day for homework before he had to go to bed. He walks up to the brown door that had a wooden letter B mounted on it and painted blue. He turned the brass knob and readjusted his bag that hang by a single strap on his shoulder. He closed the door behind him and sat his bag down next to his wooden computer desk.
An older model desktop took up the right half of the desk. It had been a gift from his father after Butters had shown an aptitude for technology. He'd spent many nights working on programs and playing games. He wasn't half bad hacking into sites, but it was mostly him just running programs to force a break in and less like what movies would make you believe.
Light shone in from the large single window above his bed. His hamster, who's name was Minion, was running on his wheel within the cage that housed him. The cage was set atop Butters' dresser that stood next to the desk.
"Hey there Minion! Have a good day?" he asked.
The hamster stopped running on the wheel and ran into the middle of the cage. It stood on its hind legs and stood tall while glancing at his master. Butters smiled and watched as the hamsters nose wiggled, then the hamster went on all four legs and began pacing his cage.
"I know bud, you probably miss Alex too. Do ya buddy?" asked Butters, his voice taking on a somber tone.
Alex and Butters had gotten Minion after Butters last hamster had passed away. Alex picked it out and Butters thought it was perfect, so he'd agreed. He was brown with a large white patch on his shoulder. He was great as far as hamsters went, but Minion had the misfortune of inadvertently reminding Butters of Alex. The thought of Alex drew Butters eyes to his bag and his thoughts to the box that resided within the black canvas backpack. He pulled the black computer chair out from the desk and sat down in it, leaning forward to open the bag. Removing the box, he placed it upon the desk and stared at it.
What could it hold? There was still the chance that M. could be his enemy and not his Ally. What if it was a trap? What if it was empty? What if this was all a sham to make him look like the bad guy? Butters felt his heart start to beat faster at those thoughts. He squeezed his eyes shut to banish them.
'No! I need this to be real. I've got to trust this person.' he thought
He reached forward with a hesitant hand and picked the small box up. The box was void of any labels or stickers aside from packaging tape that had been used to seal it closed. He used his left hand, scraping the edge up with his nail, to peal the tape off of the box. The sound of the tape seemed to echo and bounce around the room until it filled his ears. All he could hear was the sound of the tape pulling fibers away from the box that contained his only hope to get his friend back.
After what felt like an eternity the last of the tape lifted from the box. He threw it in the waste can that he kept beneath his desk and sat the box back down on the desk. His hands shook slightly as he pulled the flaps of the box open.
Peering inside the box he saw a letter. This one was also written on wide ruled white lined paper. The ink of this letter was blue and it was written in the same handwriting as the note from M. that he'd received in the Cafeteria. He picked it up with his left hand and noticed that underneath it were several other papers, news clippings, notes and other such things. He placed the letter down and started looking through it. He found notes on social media handles, hangout locations, a schedule, common locations where he could find Trent and what days that he might be there. Several of the clippings were related to sports events and Trent's contributions to them. He returned his focus back to the letter and began to read it.
To: Professor
If you're reading this, then you have fulfilled your end of the arrangement. Within this box you will find everything I've been able to collect on the Target. I've been compiling information for some time, but I've had little to go on. I hope you find it useful.
You're time is limited, so you musn't let yourself be held back by fear or worry. They will find you eventually. No matter how quiet nor how subtle you try to be, they will eventually notice you. You are in danger, but I doubt you will stop. Others have tried to bring the Target down, but they've all failed. You can change that. You can make sure that everyone the target has ever hurt, not only your friend, gets to taste justice.
Inside this box you will find three things to start you off on your self appointed mission:
A list of names of former victims
A list of social media handles
A list of hangouts, normal routine and common places to stash things.
The Target isn't smart, but he is cunning and devious. He takes little in the way of risks that he doesn't believe will end with him victorious. I'd start with the first name on the list of Victims. I wish you luck Professor.
M.
Butters heart was racing now, but he had to agree with M.. He wasn't about to quit, he couldn't live with himself if he just let this go. Not only was Alex counting on him, but now there were more people he felt deserved his help. He folded the letter and sat it off to the side. He was about to pick up the Victims list when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and woke the phone to see what had set his phone off. It was a message from Kenny.
'That's odd, he usually doesn't text me till friday…' he thought.
He swiped the lock on the phone and opened the message. This left him even more confused.
Kenny M.: Be careful. I know you Butters, you always have your friends.
Butters quirked a brow and closed the phone. What was that about? He shrugged and got the list of names and looked to the first one.
Laura Ambles
Assosiates with Goth kids
Usually found with Henrietta Biggle on school roof or at Tweak Bros. Coffee
Unable to secure meeting
Laura Ambles, she would be the first he had to track down. He didn't know how he was going to do this, but maybe he'd think of a better plan along the way. Maybe it'd be a good idea to search for Trent's social media accounts and see if anything stood out? He'd have to cross reference Trent's known associates also...and Alex.
Butters frowned as he opened his phone. The wallpaper was Alex and himself sitting on a log. Stan's uncle Jimbo had invited Stan and any friends he'd like to bring with him to go camping. Stan, for some reason, had invited Butters and Alex. They'd spent most of the time together, but it had been fun. He smiled sadly as he remembered that he'd tipped a canoe over and Alex had to help him out of the water.
Butters closed the phone and sat it down on the desk. He had homework to finish and a plan to make. Tomorrow, he was tracking down the Goth kids.
"Butters?" he heard his dad call from the doorway.
Butters froze up. He heard his father walk into the room. The sound of his bed springs told him that his father had sat down upon the bed. He heard his father let out a sigh and the bed creaked more. Butters placed the papers back into the box and turned spun the chair around to face his father.
Stephen Stotch was not the best father, but Butters understood that he tired. The man still had a tendency to resort to corporal punishment, but it wasn't nearly as bad as when Butters was younger. Heck, he hadn't been grounded in two years! His father was still wearing his work clothes: a green dress shirt, tie, slacks and dress shoes.
"Oh, hey dad. What-uh, what ya need?" asked Butters.
His father smiled and sat up.
"Well, I wanted to know how you're doing son. I noticed you've been rather...reserved lately." said Stephen. Butters smiled softly and nodded.
"I'm doing just fine Dad." said Butters. Stephen continued to smile, but it faltered slightly.
"It's just...well, I've noticed Alex hasn't been over in some time. Did you two have a falling out?" asked Stephen.
Butters flinched slightly. Of course his father would ask eventually. It'd be odd if he hadn't, considering how often his friend used to come over. Alex was the only friend his parents didn't need him to ask permission to invite over.
"Oh, Alex has just been super busy with school. You know how that is." said Butters.
This answer appeared to satisfy Butters' father. He nodded and stood up, walking to the door. He stopped in the doorway and placed a hand on the frame before turning to face his son.
"Butters, you know, if you ever need to talk about something...I'm here. I know I haven't been-" Stephens face fell slightly as he looked down at his feet. "-the best father, but I'm still here for you." Butters smiled at his father.
"I know Pops, if anything happens, you'll be the first to know." replied Butters. His father smiled, patted the door frame and walked back down stairs. Butters let out a sigh of relief, happy to be out of he awkward environment that his father made when he was trying to be a dad. As much as he loved his parents, they wouldn't understand what he was trying to do. They'd probably just tell him that 'things change and people change, we all grow up Son.' then tell him to move on. He couldn't do that, he knew now that his feelings weren't unfounded.
Butters looked back through the box and an idea popped into his head. Maybe some of the old Freedom Pals would be willing to help him? They still talked, so it was possible. Some of this seemed to be out of his skill set...perhaps he'd call in a favor tomorrow.
'I'm sure Callgirl would be willing to help. She always liked Alex well enough…but how do I convince her?'
Butters got up and walked to his closet, opening it. He started to rummage around for his pajamas. Tomorrow, tomorrow he would actually begin to make some headway.