A/N: Holy fucking shit, you guys. I've been searching for this really awesome fanfiction for around 5 months. I read it a long time ago, and it sort of inspired me to write this one. I started searching frantically for it around 2 weeks ago. I was literally going insane. And guess what?
I found it! ^-^ I'm happy beyond belief. It is going to help me write this chapter. AND NO, I am not going to copy from the fanfic. I am just using it as something to help me write difficult pieces of this story. SO, without further ado, I give you chapter 4 of: If I Could Take It All Back.
~Heron
If I Could Take It All Back
Chapter 4: Partners In Crime?
POV~Mrs. Sterner
It felt like a slap to the face to hear that mocking dial tone in my ear. I set down the phone, feeling hurt. Why did Eric refuse to give me a chance? James **(James is her Husband)** and I had been only too welcoming and loving of him ever since he came into our home. We had given him space, understanding that he needed time to get over the tragedy. For the first year, all I could think about Eric was: Poor thing, forced into a foster home after losing his mom. Must be really hard to adjust. But over time I learned that it wasn't just that he was trying to recover from what had happened. He was purposefully avoiding us, rejecting us, and hating us.
And it hurt. He did everything dejectedly, or did nothing at all, really. It used to worry me that his depression was carrying on through the years. But now I was just sick of it. I didn't like to be rude or obscene, but with all of the frustration and anger that I had been bottling up, I just.. exploded.
"FUCK!" I shrieked, kicking a chair over. I know, it wasn't very "mature" of me, but at the moment I didn't care. I was so upset over how Eric had treated us, I couldn't handle it any more. I didn't want him as a child. I ran into the living room, where James was watching the football game. My anger had boiled over to the point where I wanted to destroy everything. I wanted something to know the torture I had been going through for three, long miserable years. I screamed, wildly throwing picture frames at the television. One hit the very center of the screen and cracked the glass.
"LORI! Lori what in the hell are you doing?" James yelled, standing up from the couch and grabbing my arms. He pinned me against the wall and looked me straight in the eyes, which I could imagine was hard due to my uncontrollable twitching and fidgeting.
"GAH!" I shouted, feeling the tears start to fall.
"Lori, what's wrong? Why did you break the t.v.?" James questioned warily. His eyes were wide and his forehead creased.
"I am sick and TIRED of fostering that kid, James!" I screamed, closing my eyes. "All he's done is hated us and rejected us and I'm NOT going to put up with him any more. I am NOT going to try to get through to that monster."
James just pulled me into a hug. "It's okay, Lori. We'll call child services. They.. they can give him to another family," he said soothingly.
"I don't want Eric to put anybody else through what he put US through. It's n-not right! It's like he doesn't e-even want to be happy. It scares me."
"C'mon, lets sit down. We can talk about it maturely, ya know, without violently throwing stuff at the Broncos."
POV~ Kenny
"What the fuck does that mean?" I shouted, throwing my hands up in the air. Stan just stared at Butters' back, eyes all squinty.
"K-ken, what does it say?" my little Buttercup asked, worry in his tone.
"Kyle's Mom Is A Bitch," Stan said in a monotone voice.
"H-hey, Stan, don'tcha think Kyle would be awfully sore if he heard ya say that?" Butters defended. Oh, Butters..
"That's what it SAYS, Butters," Stan rolled his eyes. The blond mouthed the word "Oh". He was so cute when he was cute. Er.. When he was being stupid. He stood up and faced us, pulling his shirt down. It pained me to see that black eye on my little baby. I made a mental note to beat the shit out of Craig next time I saw him.
"Well, fellas, uh, what d-do ya think that could mean?"
"It could mean anything," I sighed. "I mean, it IS Cartman's favorite saying."
Stan frowned, disregarding my last comment. "I dunno.. I have a weird feeling about where this clue is gonna take us.. Like, a bad feeling.." we were all silent for a long moment before we heard a loud:
"FUCK!" downstairs. Follwed by it, was a loud crash, like something had been knocked over.
"What...what the hell?" I muttered, tensing up. Was Cartman home? I couldn't tell. It could very well possibly be one of Cartman's foster parents. But I was still scared shitless. As was Stan, and Butters, who jumped into my lap. Oh god, Buttercup, not the best time to make me hard!
POV~Kyle
I pretended to go limp as the car engine came to a halt. We had arrived at our destination, wherever the fuck that was. I had to make my breathing slow and even, which was really quite difficult, considering I was scared out of my mind. I shut my eyes and heard the driver door shut. A moment later, the door beside me opened, and I tried my best not to flinch.
"Ah, my little kike, we're here at last. Fine night, isn't it?" I heard Cartman mumble, unbuckling my seatbelt. He picked me up and held a grip on me that was far too tight to be considered comfortable. I winced in pain as he crushed me against him, carrying me through whatever environment we were in. Where ever we were, it was very cold and wet. It was truly painful the way he handled me.. though I was lucky he thought I was sleeping. He would probably hurt me more if he knew I was awake.
Finally, we made it to a building. Cartman shut the door behind us and dumped me on a matress that smelled like a mixture of piss and mothballs. Ew. A bright light was turned on and I shut my eyes tighter. Apparently, fat ass noticed.
"Awake, are we?" he muttered, and my heart came close to stopping. "Tisk, tisk, Khal. You'll pay for that, you cunt!" he shouted, kicking me hard in the ribcage. I recoiled, and shrieked. There was no point in pretending to sleep any longer. It was best to scream my head off. Maybe somebody would hear me!
"HELP! HELP ME!" I yelled, pathetically cowering in fear of Eric Cartman. He laughed like a crazy person.
"Oh, Jew. Don't you know that nobody can hear you? Beg and scream all you please, you disgusting fuck. I like watching you squirm." his mocking tone rang in my ears. This was horrifying. Was nobody going to help me? Had anybody even realized I had gone missing? I started crying. "Shh, save your tears. There'll be a much better time to cry, you pussy."
I gulped, and stole a glance at the door. If I could just get through that door, maybe I could out-run him. I tried leaping for the door that was holding me prisoner. Cartman tackled me, and pinned me to the mattress. "Can't have you running away, can I?" he chuckled, tying my wrists and ankles with dirty white rope. This reminded me of the time I had been kidnapped and become part of the Human CentiPad. Only, this time it was a thousand times worse. Once I was all tied up, he gagged me with what appeared to be a sock and a tennis ball. It felt like I was choking. I shut my eyes. PLEASE, God, HELP ME! I begged.
"Well, I still have to prepare for our session, you dirty little fuck. It's probably best you be unconscious for that," he laughed crazily. "I'll go check up on you're fag boyfriend, Marsh. I have to make sure they're on the right track, Jew.." Cartman mumbled, smothering a rag with chloroform. How the fuck did he manage to buy that? "Dream of me, Khal," He murmured demoniacally before pouncing at me. This time, I had no free limbs to protect myself. So the chloroform took effect a lot quicker, and pretty soon, I drifted back into that empty nothingness.
POV~ Cartman
"Dream of me, Khal," I murmured, jumping on the helpless little Jew. His eyes widened with fear and then slowly drifted shut; the chloroform hadn't failed me yet. I made a mental note to thank Dr. Mephesto for it. I grinned, kicking the fucker in his face. By the time I was through with him, there wouldn't be a single area on his body that wasn't bruised. He was going to get what he deserved. Nobody screwed me over as much as he did and got away with it. Nobody.
I whipped out my cell phone, pressing the number 6. Dialing my partner in crime. It rang once before his tiny voice answered:
"Cartman?"
"Ike," I breathed. "Is your mom all set? Did you drug her?"I asked the Canadian. This had to go exactly how I planned it.
"Just finished injecting thefentanyl," Ike laughed. I nodded.
"Good. Is the key in her stomach?" I had to make sure. Canadians fucked up simple instructions all the time.
"Yes, dude. Everything's set for those fuckheads." Ike's Canadian accent was getting on my nerves, but I had to endure listening to it. Just for now.
"Great, thank you, Ike," I spoke, letting sappy sincerity seep into my voice. Without this kid, I wouldn't have been able to pull this off. What was he? Twelve? This kid was twelve years old and already helping me kill his brother. What a great kid. After this, I had to enlighten him on how great Hitler and Mel Gibson were.
"Don't mention it, Cartman. So uh, do I get my pay yet?" Of course. All Jews were the same. Greedy as fuck. I guess I couldn't blame him, those koshie parents of his had spoiled his mind just by making him Jewish. It wasn't HIS fault.
"All in good time, kid. After your fuck of a brother is disposed of," I laughed. Ike agreed.
"Yeah I guess. Thanks loads, Cartman. Without you, I wouldn't be getting rid of my bitch mom and becoming an only child. I have to go, though. Love you grandma!" I received a dial tone. Ah, the grandmother thing. We had come up with a code. If anybody walked in the room, you call the other your grandma. Ike's idea. I shook my head and smiled. Kyle was knocked out cold, so this would be the best time to set up.
I picked up the Jew and carried him down to the basement. There was a giant contraption that I could hook him up to, that would restrain him completely. I would be able to torture him and he wouldn't be able to move. Completely helpless! The camera and tape were all set up, so now all I had to do was strap the kike in. I was loving this plan.
POV~ Stan
"Er.. Butters, p-please get off of me," Kenny whispered, biting his lip. Oh GOD, I did NOT need to know what that was about. I pinched the bridge of my nose and stood up.
"Hey, you two, lets get out of here. We have our clue," I insisted.
"Really, Stan? Y-you, uh, figured out what it meant? Gee wiz, tell us!" Butters hopped up as well, leaving Kenny sitting on the floor, attempting to hide the bulge in his pants.
"Ugh, Kenny, control that thing in your pants," I complained, and Kenny grinned.
"Hey, I can't help it that my sexy little Buttercup has the cutest butt to pound," the blond giggled. Eh, that was SO not true. Kyle's was better.
"The fuck, Kyle's ass is the hottest," I argued. Kenny raised his eyebrow.
"Wanna bet, Stan?" he stood up, about to get all up in my face-
"FELLAS! J-jesus! Nobody cares w-who's.. ass is the cutest!" Butters interrupted, calming both Kenny and I down. "So what does this gosh-darnit clue mean?"
"We just have to go to Kyle's mom, I guess," I shrugged my shoulders. Both Kenny and Butters nodded in agreement. I looked down at the note that was in my hand. "P.s. You should probably set your watch as a timer. You'll want to be aware when 48 hours is up." It said.
"Uh, guys, does anybody have a watch?" I asked, doubtfully. I knew I didn't, 'cause I just don't wear watches. And Kenny probably didn't, considering he was way too poor to afford one. My only hope was Butters.
"Ooh! I do, Stan! It's my new Hello-Kitty watch! It has a special feature where ya can s-set a timer and when time's up, it meows! Neat-o, huh?" Butters beamed, holding out his wrist. There, on his hand, was a gay little plastic watch that had hello-kitty's face all over it. Great. Now, when 48 hours were up, and if Kyle wasn't saved, I'd be informed by a faggy little watch going "meow". Fantastic.
"I.. I guess that'll work," Kenny laughed, sharing a glance with me. He could tell I wasn't pleased.
"Uh, okay. So how long has it been since you found me in the library?" I asked the blond.
"Er.. around an hour, or so?" he guessed.
"Okay, Butters, set the timer for 47 hours," I ordered. He obeyed, and pressed the buttons on his watch. "Now, we go find Kyle's mom."
POV~Kyle
My eyes fluttered open to absolute darkness. I could tell there was something off about this whole thing, because my arms and legs were being shackled. I couldn't move my limbs, at all. I started shaking and squirming, which caused the chains to jingle. "H-hello?" I screamed. I could hear my voice echo and it sent an unpleasant shiver down my spine. "HELLO? Anybody?" I shrieked, this must have been part of Cartman's torture. Oh god. I couldn't even begin to imagine what was coming next.
I had to get out of here. I started flailing uncontrollably when I realized: I was completely fucking naked. Oh god, oh god, oh god. This was like a sex-rape fantasy gone wrong. "ANYBODY! HELP ME!" and the thing that made it a hundred times worse was, I could hear Cartman laughing.
"Oh, you stupid, stupid Jew," he taunted, and suddenly a light flickered on. It was dim, but still light. "Squirm all you want, really, it makes for a better video,"
"V-video?" I gasped.
"Of course, Khal. Wave to Stan! 'Hi Stanny!'" he mimicked my voice. I was in an absolute state of horror. There, not fifteen feet in front of whatever torture contraption I was hooked up to, was a video camera. It was recording.
"Oh my god. CARTMAN! Turn that off!" I shrieked, absolutely mortified. "I don't care what you do to me, just don't make him watch it!" I sobbed.
He laughed. "But then, how would this be any fun, kike? There would be no point in this if Marsh wasn't going to watch it. To make him endureee it." He teased. And I knew, as Cartman sauntered forward, something terrible was about to happen to me.
POV~Stan
I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach as we pulled into the Broflovski's driveway. It was only just getting dark and all of the lights in the home were off.
"Guys.." I muttered, hopping out of the car. "I don't have a good feeling about this."
"C'mon, Stan, this was your idea. And do you want to save Kyle, or not?" Kenny asked.
I gulped, and nodded, making my way over to the dark green house. Butters and Kenny followed right behind me. I walked up the porch steps slowly, and knocked on the door. It creaked open. I shut my eyes, and shook my head. This was just like a horror movie.
Kenny put a hand on my shoulder and walked ahead of me. We had all been to Kyle's house so many times, we even knew where the light-switches were. Kenny flicked on the light and Butters almost fainted into my arms after we laid eyes on the body.
"Oh my GOD!" Kenny shrieked, and he sounded like a little girl. I covered my mouth, feeling nauseous. Yep. I barfed all over the Broflovski's carpet. There, in the center of the floor, was Kyle's Mom's body. Fully nude.
Butters managed to mumble two words before he fainted, hitting his head off the coffee table: "Aw, hamburgers."
I was about to haul ass out of that house when Kenny pointed out something, "Hey, there's a note.. and a knife," what?
I took a closer look, trying to avoid seeing anything I didn't exactly want to see. There, next to Sheila's left arm, was a note. I picked it up, because Kenny was attending to a passed out Butters. In a different handwriting then the others, the note read:
To Stan, Kenny, and Butters-
You want to save Kyle SOOO badly, don't you?
Well, I'll tell you what. The only way you can
even come close to saving him is if you take that
knife, and cut my mom open. There's a key inside
her stomach. The key opens a box, that you can find
at Starks Pond. Please, leave a mess for my dad
to clean up. Mutilate that bitch.
~Ike.
"Oh my god, IKE?" I shouted, grabbing Kenny's attention.
"Huh? Ike?" he asked, taking the note. His eyes widened after reading it. "Holy shit, dude. I-I'm not cutting Sheila open. I'm not touching her," he shuddered. Well, fuck! I didn't want to do it either, but if I had to in order to save Kyle...
I bent down next to Mrs. Broflovski's body. I whispered an "I'm sorry" before picking up the knife. I was just about to bring the blade down on her fat stomach, when her eyes shot open. She saw me, holding the knife above my head, about to bring it down and cut her open. I didn't know what to do. I was so shocked. I couldn't even say anything to Kenny, who was looking away saying "lalalala". There was so much fear in her eyes, and I realized she had been drugged, paralyzed.. I didn't want to be responsible for her death.. but I HAD to save Kyle. I couldn't wait for her to shit the goddamn key out.
I brought the knife down quickly, feeling a splash of warm blood across my face. I winced, brought the knife back up again, and stabbed her. Repeatedly.. Until finally, after digging through her intestines, I found her stomach. Yeah, I'm not gonna lie, I puke about ten times before I could locate the key. There was blood covering my hands, and I couldn't even imagine how much pain I just inflicted upon that poor woman. The person that brought the love of my life into resistance. I hated myself, but knew it was what had to be done.
"Kenny, I have the key."
"Huh? Okay, good, lets go. Grab the note," he said, pointing behind him. He didn't risk a glance at the bloody mess. He would've puked too. He picked up Butters, and I picked up the note, and we left, heading for Starks Pond. Fuck, if this was just the beginning of the 48 hours of torture, I didn't want to know what was next.
A/N: FUCK! Sorry, guys! :( I didn't put any delicious Kyman rape in here yet, that's because it was getting sooo long and boring-ish. :/ SORRY D: But guess what, my darlings? I am going to keep writing :D I am going to post this, and then write chapter 5. Because I did promise you some rape. Sorry if it was a disappointment. But, I guess since I DID promise, I'll make the rape extra worse. How's that sound? I love you guys. Review! =) (Chapter five will be posted later today).
~Heron