South Park - The Voices Beneath
Author's Forward: I would like to thank everyone for the kind, positive and beautiful feedback about Arc 1. I seriously cannot express how awesome you guys are. Really, you all rock.
So I would like to welcome everyone to chapter 7, the first chapter of Arc 2. Something I should note is that all of the titles of the Arcs are in Latin. Arc 1 was Memento Mori. For those who don't know, the phrase translates to "Remember The Death" or "Remember Your Mortality". Arc 2, called Mendacium Et Veritas, means "Falsehood and Truth". Each title has something to do with the chapters and the overall story. Just a fun fact for anyone curious.
Thus far, there are now 6 arcs planned (now that I have everything fully plotted). So it will indeed be a long story and I promise it will be a lot of fun. I'm not going to give anything away but I will say that Arc 2 is going to deal a lot more with ancient history and how it ties in with the coming trouble. Some things, such as ancient languages, are made up and some are translated out of other old languages, but not necessarily accurate. In any case, take it at entertainment value.
Thank you all again, and now here's Arc 2.
Disclaimer: South Park and all related characters and ideas are (c) Matt Stone and Trey Parker; other copyrighted characters and ideas are property of their respective license holders. Any original content, plot ideas, etc. are of my own work and not being used for profit.
The following story will contain strong language, adult themes, bad puns and copious amounts of unadulterated insanity.
Enter at your own risk.
Arc 2 - MENDACIUM ET VERITAS
Ever since I started flying and expanding my... uh... power I guess, I've noticed stuff that the other guys don't seem to see. Or if they do, they don't say anything about it. I guess I first started noticing it a few years ago with Eraser. There's a lot of other instances where I've noticed this, but that one I think is probably the most recent. Or if it's not, I can't really tell.
So it's sorta like the memories or events are tampered with. I don't really know how, but I know they have to be. This one specific example I'm giving is of the time that the Eraser blew up a building and the Coon got himself thrown out of the League. The situation was that the Coon was fighting Eraser, then there was me, Toolshed, Tupperware and Mysterion trying to get close enough to apprehend the guy. So that I remember very clearly. The next part is different. Like... doctored. I don't know if that makes sense. I swear there was a gunshot but I can't seem to remember it very well. Sorta like there's an echo of one but I can't see it in my head anymore. And I remember being angry... well furious, really. The next thing I remember is Toolshed throwing a wrench at the guy and knocking him out. Then we had him locked up and Mysterion was so pissed that he threw the Coon out of the League.
The meeting we had after that we talked about having more protection under our gear. And for some reason, Toolshed and Tupperware and I were completely for it, no hesitation at all. Like, something in my gut told me how bad it would be if someone got shot, even though I've never actually seen that happen. Or... well I don't think I have, but I can't really tell anymore. It's weird, but I just have this feeling that I've seen someone get shot before... like, a lot.
Anyway that's not the only thing that's happened since my ability manifested. The worst part is the dreams. Or nightmares, whatever. Like I mentioned before, sometimes I get these premonitions, sort of. Like... well, like I can catch glimpses of what's coming. And it only ever happens when something bad is going to happen. The first time I had one was eight years ago, the same night the BP/DP oil company unleashed Cthulhu. I didn't understand it at the time so I just kept my mouth shut. But it keeps happening. It's happened several times, and most times, they come true.
Except one. The one I've had over and over again ever since Cthulhu was banished. I always have a hard time seeing what's going on in that nightmare, but I think I've got the gist of it now. Normally when I get the dreams, whatever happens in the dream happens within a few days, a week at most. This one is different. It's always the same, never changes, and I've been having it for years. The nightmare itself... well, I hope it's just a dream. Because I swear I'm watching the End of the world. And it's bloody.
But that's not the only thing I see. Whenever I see the End, I see it in South Park. I always see the League standing at the "gates" so to speak, but I never see the outcome. I hope it's positive. But rationally, I know it's probably not.
I do know that we're standing at the edge of a coming storm. I think it's like a hurricane. If we are going to weather the storm, we have to work as a team.
And I plan to get out of it, dead or alive.
The Quiet Before the Storm
Friday night had been completely insane, even by Kyle's standards. The meeting, and everything they discussed, made Kyle's head spin. Eight years of fighting crime, and seventeen years of seeing all the crazy shit that happened in South Park didn't quite prepare him for the things they were getting into. Hearing that Stan had been chased by some crazy cultist and fucking shot at, and that Cartman was possessed by some fucking dark whatever, on top of the Heidi situation... well, things were starting to get huge. So when Mysterion had told him that they needed more help, and that he was inducting the Coon back into the League, of course he was going to be skeptical at first.
But Mysterion had a valid point, and Kyle was nothing if not reasonable. Whatever they were getting themselves into, it had to be huge. It was nothing like anything they'd faced before, and the more help they could get, the better off they'd be. Even if that meant he had to put up with the Coon again, much to his immense distaste.
Even still, some of the things Cartman had said during their meetup had put him on edge. Hearing about those whispers, and whatever it was that possessed him just by hearing a guy speak... well that was creepy. Really creepy.
The whole thing just kept going through Kyle's head later that night as he tried to sleep, but it just wasn't happening. Apparently Ike was having difficulty too, because at some time well after midnight, he crept into Kyle's room.
"You awake?" Ike asked in a hushed voice. Kyle sat up.
"Yeah, what's up?"
Ike made his way over to Kyle's computer chair and sat, pulling one leg up towards his chest and resting his elbow on it. "Can't sleep," he murmured. "I had a hard time sleeping last night too."
"Yeah, me too," Kyle said softly. "This whole situation is a lot to handle."
"What do you think is gonna happen?"
"I... I really don't know. I wish I did. Hell I just wish I knew what the fuck was going on."
Ike was silent for several minutes. "What about... You know, the dreams?" he asked cautiously. Kyle had confided in his little brother a few years before on the condition that no one could know. And Ike had faithfully kept the secret. Kyle swallowed hard. He couldn't deny that they'd been coming more frequently, and what he saw was always a good deal more violent than the last one.
"I uh... yeah, I've been having the nightmare. The recurring one," Kyle admitted. He hadn't been able to tell Stan or Kenny anything about the dreams. Just the simple fact that there was no discernible reason or rationale behind the dreams kept him from bringing it up. He didn't want the guys looking into something just because it gave him a bad feeling. There was no logic in it. But he had to confide in someone, so he talked to Ike. Ike was good at keeping secrets, despite his unfortunate habit of rambling.
It sort of helped that Ike knew exactly why Kyle was so on edge about it. He'd been in the League for nearly three years. He'd known about their activities for a good deal longer than that though, and Kyle had only allowed him to join the group on the sole condition that he stayed completely out of combat where it was not absolutely necessary. And, since Ike was more of a computer genius than a fighting master anyway, he was the League's eyes, ears, and tech specialist. Ike had made many useful modifications to everyone's gear. He'd actually helped Token design Biotic's suit of armor and added spring-loaded knives to Mysterion's boots. He didn't get to use them often, but they were pretty cool. Much of Toolshed's arsenal was modified heavily, all of it by Ike. The augmented power drills, the modified reciprocating saw, and something else in the works that he was keeping a surprise. Toolshed was anxious to see it, Kyle knew.
And in all the time Ike had been in the League, he'd seen a lot of the insane shit they had to deal with in a way that no one else ever did.
"Maybe you should at the very least mention it to one of the guys," Ike said slowly, and before Kyle could protest, held his hands up. "Now hear me out first, okay? Look, you told me that you've had the dreams and you've seen stuff happen, and then it actually did happen. If that's the case and your gift could help the League head off anything seriously bad, don't you think it's at least worth looking into?"
Kyle glowered at the wall. "It's not a reasonable tool," he said. "Relying one something that could just as easily be chalked up to superstition could get someone hurt. I mean think about it, what possible proof is there that what I'm seeing is actually some kind of premonition?"
"Where's the proof that it's not?"
Kyle opened and closed his mouth a few times. Ike had a valid point as well, there was no real proof for or against the theory that his dreams were precognitive. Even still, it was illogical to take stock in dreams. But Ike was right, anything that would give them a boost...
"I'll run it past Stan and Kenny sometime soon," he finally muttered in agreement. He ruffled Ike's hair, who swatted his hand away. "You're too damn smart for your own good, you know?"
"Heh, yeah." Ike sighed. "But seriously Kyle. I just don't know what to think about all this. First the suicide, now this whole thing with Cartman... I found something, about that verse. It's uh... not pretty."
Kyle's eyebrows shot up. "What was it?"
Ike sighed heavily. "Well it's a passage from a really old book. The way Cartman said it is translated to English, but I don't think the book itself is actually written in English." Ike sighed. Even through the semi darkness, Kyle could see a somber expression on his little brother's face.
"What do you mean?" Kyle asked with an eyebrow raised.
Ike chewed on his words for a moment. "I was doing some cross-referencing since I couldn't sleep. The words... I think they're from a really old book. But wherever that book goes it causes nothing but trouble."
"That doesn't sound good."
"It never is. And by trouble I mean people die." Ike shook his head. "I dunno man, it's just... we could be into something huge you know? We've gone up against psychos, villains, gangs, drug rings... but this feels like something beyond anything we've ever done before. I just have this feeling that it could get some of us killed."
Kyle nodded. "Don't worry about it too much, Ike. We're the League of Heroes, we're the ones that stand up to shit like this. We'll make it through."
I hope... he thought at the end of his sentence. And really, that was all any of them could do. They could fight, and they could hope. They'd need to hold on to both.
-x-0-x-
When Kyle did finally fall asleep, his dreams were troubled. Well, "dreams" wasn't the right word. It was another nightmare. He hated the nightmares. He hadn't had a real, proper dream since he was fourteen. Now it was all gloom and doom forcing its way through his head every god damn night. It was the worst.
That night was no different than any other night. He saw himself, or really he saw the Human Kite, standing among the line of heroes. They all stood defiantly against a blazing fire that threatened to consume everything. The bright green question mark was at the front of them, and it began to bleed. The fire was bearing down, it threatened to overtake them and scorch them into the next life. Inky shadow surrounded them, mists filled with a cold gray laughter. Great yellow slitted eyes and a thousand horrible tentacles loomed through the shadow.
And then someone was dying. Over and over again. Blood splattered and splashed. The mist claimed the question mark over and over, and every time a brilliant light brought it back. Even in the face of the raging hellfire, the mark burned green and defiant.
And then shadow claimed everything.
Kyle woke with a start. He shot straight upright in bed, sweat pouring from his forehead. God he hated that. The nightmare would overtake him and ruin whatever sleep he was going to have. Ugh. Slowly he rubbed his forehead, trying to massage away the visions that were burned into the backs of his eyelids. The blood... why the fuck was there so much blood?
After a few moments of silence where he managed to wrangle his thundering heart back down to an acceptable pace, he fixed his eyes on the clock - 9:30 am.
"Holy shit I slept in?" he asked aloud to no one in particular, then resigned himself to drag his ass out of bed and get the day started. He had a date, it wouldn't do to mope around the house until the League meeting that night. So once he steeled himself and calmed his rattled nerves, he made his way to the shower. The hot water helped to relax away the tension. It was practically necessary every morning, ever since the nightmares... the visions had started. A nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach told him he needed to tell someone. But who the fuck could he tell?
He finished his shower, toweled off, and dressed. He felt completely ridiculous being so concerned over what he was planning to wear that day, but fuck, this was the first real date he'd had since he'd broken up with Sally. And seriously, Lola was a great girl. He really wanted to impress her, and showing up in an old orange hoodie was definitely not going to do it. He spent a good fifteen minutes in front of his closet, staring hopelessly at the contents, until he at last settled on a white and gray button-down shirt over a white t-shirt, a pair of faded blue jeans, and his favorite converse sneakers. He went to pull on his ushanka but stopped, knowing that Bebe would kill him if she found out that she'd cut his hair and he'd hidden it under his old hat. So he resigned himself to turn up hat-less, and just keep it in the car in case he really wanted it.
Once dressed he made his way downstairs, where his mother and Ike were already sitting at the breakfast table.
"Morning guys," he said almost cheerfully and slid into his seat.
"Good morning Kyle. My you look awfully nice today bubbeleh, are you going somewhere?"
"Yeah, I'm going for coffee with a uh... a girl from school."
"You have a date!?"
"Sorta I guess," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. He nibbled on a piece of toast, fully intending to tune out whatever his mother planned to say. Something about it being fantastic that he finally had a new girlfriend and blah blah blah. "Oh and I'm gonna hang out with the guys tonight for awhile."
"Well that's fine, just make sure you call me if you're going to be staying out late."
Kyle finished his toast, bid the two goodbye, and headed out. He climbed into the Buick and fired it up. It wasn't exactly a hot rod. It wasn't really a luxury vehicle, either. But it got him from A to B, so it was practical enough for him to not care how crappy it was. At least on the bright side, it wasn't as crappy as Stan's car, and that was pretty bad. But then again, it ran.
He arrived at the coffee place early. They'd decided on meeting up at Tweak Bros. instead of Java Connect where Stan worked, just because it would be totally awkward to have Stan hanging around and working while Kyle was on a date. He headed in early, ordered his Latte, and sat at a small table near the wall and the large front window. He pulled out his phone, content to read up on the news while he waited.
Kyle didn't have to wait long. Perhaps two minutes into the story he was flipping through, motion out of the corner of his eye drew his attention to Lola, who arrived almost as early as he did. For a flash of a second she looked nearly as nervous as he felt, but it melted when she caught his eye. He grinned somewhat sheepishly and she smiled serenely, ordered her coffee, and sat down opposite him at the small table.
Lola Stewart had been one of the popular girls, ever since the youth of South Park had been old enough to form cliques. She was pretty, with long dark hair and warm brown eyes; she was outgoing, cheerful, and kind. She was a cheerleader like Bebe. And even though Kyle couldn't really bring himself to get into the whole popular high school scene, he'd liked Lola since middle school. It wasn't because she was attractive though. Okay well that was part of it. But what really set him off about her was one very specific time they'd been in deep discussion during study hall in the seventh grade about the ethical ramifications of rainforest clearing. She'd been able to hold an intelligent conversation with him for the entire class period without a single air-headed or dim-witted comment.
She smiled brightly as she settled into her chair. "Hey," she said after taking a sip from the frothy cappuccino in her green mug.
"Hi," he replied, gripping his own blue mug in both hands. "You look really nice," he commented with a smile. She was dressed in a simple white short-sleeved button down blouse, a black mini skirt, and knee-high boots. Her brown hair was swept back into a low elegant ponytail.
"So do you, I heard Bebe cut your hair. It looks good," Lola grinned. "I love the coffee here," she said after another sip.
"Yeah it's pretty good."
"So I noticed that you've gotten really good at basketball."
"I... oh, yeah," he said, somewhat taken aback. He didn't think she would have taken any interest in the one sport he played. But, then again, she was a cheerleader. It was kind of her job. "Yeah I guess. It's not really that big a deal to me." He shrugged.
"Yeah I didn't figure it would be. You strike me as more of an intellectual." She took another sip from the mug. "Into computers and stuff."
He grinned again. "Yeah, something like that." He took a gulp from his own coffee. "So what else are you interested in? I mean besides cheerleading and... uh... stuff."
She giggled. "Well, I really like books. Umm I like pottery, flower arrangement, obviously shopping. Hmm... well lots of different things." She took another sip and grinned. "Academia too. And I'm actually really into Ancient History. It's fascinating."
"Yeah?" Their conversation went on for at least two more hours, back and forth, discussing all number of things from hobbies to movies and music, to the latest research studies. And the more they talked, the more Kyle was taken with her. She was much smarter than she let on, but a lot of the girls his age were. Still, her uncanny wit, clear intellect and bright personality were god damn intoxicating.
1:30 rolled around and Kyle felt his stomach growl. "So would you be opposed to... getting lunch?"
Lola smiled brightly. "Not at all." The pair stood and strode out, talking and laughing together. They headed to a nearby bakery, where they ordered sandwiches to go and walked, and ate, and talked and laughed even more. They headed to the park to sit while they finished eating, seated side-by-side on the bench. They both finished their sandwiches, and Lola nudged Kyle gently and beamed.
"This was a lot of fun," she grinned. They stood again and she linked her arm with his.
He chuckled. "Yeah, yeah I would definitely have to agree," he said as they strode through the bright, warm mid-day sun. "I think I'd definitely want to do this again... I mean if you're up for it."
"I think I'd definitely be up for it," she replied amiably and giggled. "Well hey, let me get your number," she said, holding out her phone for him to take. He tapped in his number and handed it back, and she promptly texted him a smiley-face. "I've got plans this weekend, I'm heading out camping with my parents but I should be back on Tuesday."
"How about dinner Tuesday night? I can pick you up if you don't mind being seen in a crappy car."
She giggled again. "That sounds fine. I'm off at six, so I should be ready to go by 6:30."
They made their way back to the coffee shop's parking lot, where he walked her over to her car.
"So uh... I'll see you Tuesday then?"
"Tuesday it is. I had a really nice time today, Kyle," she said as they reached her car door. She turned and kissed him softly on the cheek, flashed him another beautiful smile, and climbed into the car. With his heart thundering in his chest, he couldn't control the broad beaming grin that spread across his face. He could jump for joy if it didn't make people around him think he was a moron. Hell, if he had his gear, he'd have jumped off a building to fly from all the adrenalin coursing through him.
He waved her off and turned, and not a heartbeat later the sounds of hissing drew his attention. Stan's car pulled up, where both Stan and Kenny were leaning out their windows.
"Dude your face is the same color as your hair, you alright?" Stan grinned. Kyle rolled his eyes at him.
"Ha ha."
"Bet he got a kiss and his blood can't remember where to rush," Kenny snickered. Both boys burst into a fit of laughter that only left Kyle chuckling and shaking his head.
"Funny."
"No but seriously dude, how'd it go?" Stan asked. He and Kenny jumped out of the car and the three boys strolled down the sidewalk, where Kyle regaled them of every detail of his date.
"Well seriously then dude, congratulations on not fucking up your first date," Stan said, expressing genuine happiness for his friend. Kyle chuckled and rolled his eyes.
"Well thanks then."
"So did you get a second date?" Kenny asked and nudged him.
"Yeah, I did actually, on Tuesday night. We're going to dinner," Kyle replied matter-of-factly.
"Very nice, congrats man," Kenny said brightly. "So."
"So."
"What say you two to some training at the base?"
"Sounds good to me," Stan replied with a nod.
"Yup," Kyle added.
They set off then, heading back for the coffee shop parking lot, where they all piled into Stan's car, agreeing that two cars heading down the dirt road to the base would be more suspicious. As they pulled up, expecting to be the only ones there except Wendy, who'd stayed with Stan in the barracks overnight, they were surprised to find someone sitting on the front step, arms folded, staring irritably at the sky. They pulled into the garage and once they emerged, all three of them stared in curiosity.
"Dude, Cartman, what're you doing here so early?" Stan asked as they approached the front door of the base.
Cartman glanced up at them. "What's it look like? Waiting for you guys. I'm not allowed to have a code."
Kenny arched an eyebrow. "Dude the meeting doesn't start for another three hours."
"Whatever, I wanted to show up early. Nothin' better to do."
Kyle rolled his eyes. "Well move then so I can open the door." With a glare Cartman did, pushing himself up to his feet and slinging his bag onto his shoulder. Kyle pushed past him, punched in the door code, and stepped through the door as it swung forward.
"Guess we can show you the barracks. You can take one of the spare bunks," Kenny said, and led the way up the staircase. The barracks were empty, except for Wendy who was seated on the floor beside her bunk, papers spread out in front of her and her laptop open. She didn't notice them as they entered the room, her gray eyes transfixed by whatever she was reading on the screen.
Stan trotted across the room quickly and sat on her bed, handing her a sack of food. She glanced up at him and smiled. "Thanks Stan. Hey guys," she greeted the rest of them.
"Hey Wendy," Kyle replied and made his way to his own bunk to begin digging through his wardrobe. Kenny had already opened his and started pulling out pieces of his gear, stripping down to his boxers as he went. While Kyle was a bit modest, Kenny was definitely not, and despite Wendy's presence, he started changing his clothes without hesitation. If it was just the guys Kyle would have too, except Wendy made him a bit awkward. Not because she was a girl, but because she was his best friend's girlfriend and he felt awkward being mostly naked anywhere near her.
So he pulled some of his gear out of his wardrobe and headed for one of the six changing rooms. He quickly stripped down, pulling on his dark teal underarmor, gray flight pants, and blue shirt. He returned to the main barracks, carrying his street clothes, which he dumped unceremoniously into the wardrobe. Then he pulled on his shoes and slipped on the harness that connected him to his kite. He clasped it in place and, satisfactorily geared, sat on his bed and waited for the others to finish changing.
"You guys gonna do some training?" Wendy asked without shifting her eyes from her computer screen. She'd gotten so used to Stan and Kenny changing right in front of her that it hardly seemed to faze her anymore.
"Yeah out in the yard if you want to join," Kenny replied. He was pulling the off-purple fitted shirt over his head, then set to work buckling his belt. Of all of them, Kenny was the one with the costume that really resembled a comic-book hero. He'd stopped wearing the briefs over his pants back in the seventh grade, instead replacing it with a dark purple piece that was the same shade as his cape. His shirt and pants were both much tighter than the rest of them, form-fitting. It was probably why he was able to hide his identity so easily. Kenny's typical attire consisted of baggy pants, a t-shirt that was a half-size too large, and a hat that usually obscured his dark blond hair. Few people were aware of how muscular Kenny actually was.
"Sounds like fun," Wendy said, and closed her laptop. Stan stood and crossed over to his own wardrobe and set to work stripping down to his boxers.
Once they'd all finished changing, including Cartman who'd donned his Coon outfit, which really hadn't changed at all since they were kids, they made their way downstairs again and out into the training yard. The field behind the base was huge, sitting just on the edge of the woods that the logging company had used before a fire had put them out of business. The forest had since regrown, and was now thick and untamed around the field. They'd been careful about making sure the trees didn't overtake their practice field and used whatever spare lumber they had to uproot to make repairs and additions to the base.
The field itself was large and completely shielded from view by the wildly overgrown trees. There were targets set up at the far end, sparring dummies, practice circles, work benches, and even some sport equipment for whenever they felt like letting loose and having fun. The five of them set to work with training. Stan made his way over to one of the practice circles with Kenny and the two began to spar. Wendy made use of one of the practice dummies, working out a few new tricks she'd picked up from somewhere. Kyle, on the other hand, headed over to the ladder. Since he'd learned to fly, they'd set up a platform about fifteen feet off the ground for him to take off from. He climbed to the platform and paced the length of it. It was a good ten feet long, which was plenty of room for him to get a good running start.
He backed up to the edge again, inhaled, turned and sprinted, then leaped with all his might off the far edge. He slapped the release and the kite brought him soaring upwards, arcing up away from the ground and towards the sky. "Woo!" he shouted as addictive adrenalin coursed through his veins.
Kyle made a pass around the far side of the field towards the forest, peering down into its shadowy depths. The woods beyond the base always gave him the creeps, but only because the boys' wild imaginations (or specifically Cartman's) had dreamed up a small cluster of completely fucking insane woodland creatures that would dwell there, and he hated to think what actually did live there.
He tugged the loops and arced himself upwards, then shifted into a downward streak. At the last second he pulled up again, shooting away from the ground after just missing it by only a foot. He shot past Wendy, who ducked without even thinking. He made one more pass and pulled into another dive, slapped the button, and rolled to a neat finish as soon as he touched the ground. "Hey Toolshed!" Kyle called, well aware that he'd be able to hear him over the wire.
"What's up?"
"Wanna try the Tarzan thing?" Kyle asked as he trotted over towards the practice circle.
"...Dude. Yes." Stan's face spread into a delighted grin.
Kenny glanced between the pair of them. "Tarzan what now?" he asked with an eyebrow arched.
"We'll show you, let's see if it works," Stan said. He and Kyle made their way over to the ladder and ascended up to the platform. "Okay so how're we gonna do this?"
Kyle chewed it over for a moment. "Okay well let's do this. I'll take off and lower the grappling rope. Once I get enough altitude I'll make a pass. You have to jump and catch the rope, and swing, and then let go. Erm... we should probably get out the big pillow thing I used to practice with."
Kenny made his way over to the shed where they stored their unused equipment, and returned a few minutes later with the massive air mattress and its pump. After about a minute of steady pumping it was inflated and he situated it roughly where Kyle calculated Stan would land.
"Don't fuck it up or you'll land right on your face!" Kenny shouted up at Stan, who waved it off.
"We'll be fine. You ready dude?"
Kyle made his way back to the edge again, then sprinted and took off, leaping off the end and the kite shooting out, propelling him up towards the sky. It took him a moment to reach the desired altitude, and once he did, he started lowering the grappling rope. "Okay I'm coming back around, get ready," he said.
"Got it."
Kyle tugged the loop and pulled into a turn, then flew straight, right over the platform. Below him Stan took off at a sprint, and leaped off the edge, his hand reaching for the rope. Kyle's heart was thundering in his chest, because for an instant he thought Stan had missed.
But then Stan's weight shifted the rope and he swung forward hard, then let go. The inertia of his swing launched him up into the air in an arc. "HOLY SHIT!" he shouted, then plummeted to the ground. He landed softly on the airbag, much to everyone's relief.
Kyle rewound the rope to the spool and landed again, then sprinted over to see if Stan was okay.
Stan climbed off of the air mattress, laughing hysterically. "Dude, that was AWESOME!" he shouted.
Kenny was grinning. "That was pretty cool. Just not sure how it'll work in the field without an airbag to catch your ass."
"Eh we'll figure it out. But dude at least we know it can work."
-x-0-x-
They spent the next few hours discussing the possibilities of the Tarzan move, until 6:15 rolled around, then made their way back inside. Cartman was in the meeting room, sitting at the table with a pad of paper in front of him, pen in hand, going over whatever he'd written down. Mosquito and the Mole had arrived while they'd been outside as well, and both of them were now also in the meeting room, talking about something sports-related. Sentinel and Iron Maiden were at their usual positions. All that was missing was Biotic, but the sounds of walking from the floor above them told Kyle that he was there, just not in the room yet.
StrikeForce ascended the stairs and returned a few minutes later with Biotic in tow and her laptop under her arm. Whatever she'd found, apparently it was worth sharing. Finally gathered, the team sat in their usual places around the table, and the meeting was set to begin.
"Okay," Mysterion began. "So, this week has been, for lack of a better word, fucked up."
"Agreed," Kite said with a nod.
"Since what we're onto here is definitely out of the realm of our usual work, we need to put more resources into finding the cause and putting a stop to it. So we'll probably have more meetings and research to try and get all this shit together. For now I want to get a recap going so we have a starting point for tonight's meeting.
"It started on Wednesday, don't quite know an approximate time. We do know that around eight pm, Heidi Turner went insane and went on a killing spree inside the mall. She claimed 13 victims before taking her own life. So far this is the central event for now, we in agreement on that?"
A murmur of consensus went around the table.
"Okay, so we've got a few things linked to this situation. First thing is Mr. Havoc, or White Suit. What do we know about him?"
"We know he's in Yates' ear and that he's manipulating him," Biotic spoke up. "Found out this morning that there's more Anti-League propaganda coming out of Yates' mouth lately. Not sure what the goal is but he's trying to rally other cops against us."
"Great," Mysterion muttered. "Okay so he's doing something to the cops. What else?"
Toolshed spoke up next. "We know that he's got something to do with Chaos, Disarray, and possibly the cult. But whether or not the murder-suicide and the book stealing incident are related beyond Havoc's involvement is still unknown."
"We know his voice isn't normal," the Coon said. "He could be a uh... you know. One of those monsters."
Mysterion looked somewhat annoyed by the comment, though not necessarily at the Coon. Ever since they were kids, he and the Cthulhu cult had always been in contention. The self-proclaimed leader of the South Park chapter of the cult, James "Jim" McElroy, had always made a point of calling Mysterion out whenever the cult got up to something. A few times they'd tried to have their rituals in the middle of town, and once or twice had sacrificed animals in public. But there was a huge different between killing a goat and driving a young woman insane and making her kill a bunch of people. "Maybe. Coon please go over everything you remember from Thursday and Friday."
The Coon cleared his throat and began to read off from his note pad, detailing following Butters into the alley, the discussion between Butters and Dougie, and the appearance of the man referred to as Mr. Havoc. He described as best he could the details of the whispering voices, the hallucinations, the blackouts and loss of time, and finally coming out of it at the construction site.
Toolshed shook his head. "God that is some seriously fucked up stuff. He could be like a demon or something."
"Let's not rule anything out, but for now we're considering him an unknown threat," Mysterion said after a moment of silence. "What else have we got that Havoc is connected to?"
"The book," StrikeForce said. "He was present when Chaos and Disarray were going to read from it, so I think it's safe to assume he's got something to do with it."
"Okay so let's start there. What do we know about the book?"
Sentinel cleared his throat. "I found some stuff out last night and this morning. The book is an old Latin translation of an old script that dates back to something like three thousand years B.C., maybe older. Something called the Sataru Labiru Isten Sumsu Ultu Ulla Mitu. In Latin it's called Librum Rerum Veterum Nominavit Transiui, and in English-"
"The Book of Ancient Names Passed," Mysterion finished blankly. "Or more commonly known as the Book of the Dead."
The table was silent for a moment. "You mean... the Necronomicon?" Mosquito asked at last.
"Not exactly," Sentinel said. "The Necronomicon was written about 730 A.D. by Abdul Alhazred. That much we know about it, and that there's at least a dozen copies translated into various languages. The Book of the Dead is waaaay older."
"How old are we talking here?" Biotic asked tentatively.
"It pre-dates all known religious texts by at least a thousand years. The original script consists of about a hundred tablets that were found inside an ancient temple underneath the ruins of the ancient city of Eridu. The tablets were uncovered by Roman forces and translated sometime in the late first century by a group of unknown archaeologists. There's a legend that says that each man was only able to translate ten tablets and that each tablet took up ten pages, and that as soon as they finished their translation the entire group was executed."
"That's... wow," Biotic said with a low whistle.
"So the myth of this book is that it started out as a series of a hundred tablets written by thirteen priests in the ancient Sumer civilization, but the contents of the script is largely up for debate, and I'm not exactly sure if it even has anything to do with-" Kyle cleared his throat audibly. "Oh right, sorry. So the myth goes that the script is both a history and a prophecy that describes the destruction of Eridu and later the entire Sumerian and Akkadian empires. Anyone who reads aloud whole portions of the script is said to be cursed.
"I also found out that this book has popped up a few times throughout history, and every time it does shit goes down. Like really bad stuff. Rebellions, wars, genocides, destroying entire civilizations. Seriously bad stuff."
"So it's safe to assume this book is really bad news."
"Right, and if it's in South Park..."
StrikeForce cleared her throat. "I was doing some research last night too. I checked out which exhibit was robbed at the museum. It's the Ancient Mesopotamian exhibit. The only thing stolen was an old book that contained both a Latin translation of the original tablets and the actual rubbings from the tablets themselves. The book has been going around the world in museums for decades. It was recovered in Germany in the mid 40's and taken to the U.K. and put on display." She paused for a moment, chewing her lower lip. "And I also found a side note. There's special instruction that the book is to be showcased inside of glass at all times, never touched directly and never to be opened."
Silence fell over them for several long minutes. If Kyle's head had been spinning before, he was dizzy as hell now. The entire thing felt... surreal. Like it couldn't be real, it had to be a dream. But he knew it wasn't. The others glanced at one another, waiting for someone to speak up. But they were so overwhelmed with the knowledge of what they were just stepping into that no one had any words. It was like they were going to swim an ocean and they'd only put one foot into the water.
"This is fucked up," the Coon said at last.
"Okay, so the book is bad news. Chaos got ahold of said book, so we need to get it away from him if he's messing around with Havoc and possibly the cult. So let's see what else we're looking at here for threats and figure out how to head them off before shit gets bad."
"We need to know if zee Heidi incident ees going to be an isolated issue," the Mole spoke up, chewing on his cigar. "If not, zat will be some'sing else we need to be concerned with."
"That's a good point," Mysterion conceded. "But without any more information we're sort of dead in the water. Let's pick it up once we get more intel. New topic for now. Sentinel you have the floor."
Sentinel stood, looking immensely pleased with himself. "Okay guys, me and Iron Maiden have been working on a new tech system for about six months now and it's finally ready for field testing. I give you the Active Remote Console, or the ARC! I call it the TAC pad." He held the device up, and Kyle was thoroughly impressed. It was fairly small, but large enough to see without strain. The rectangular screen was four inches long. It was sleek and sophisticated and made everyone around the table awe. Sentinel set the nine devices on the table. "We made one for everyone except the Coon 'cause we didn't know you'd be here."
"'Ay!"
"We'll work on yours this week, and your wire too. Since we can communicate through the TAC pads, there's no need to carry around a League phone anymore. We designed each device to be specific to the wearer so it gives everyone unique information based on your combat style, special abilities, etc. So for example, it would give Human Kite readings of altitude, drop distances, necessary speeds, stuff like that, and the interface changes actively with use. The back is attachable to any piece of your gear, so you could attach it safely to your gloves or a wrist band and take it off when you want."
Toolshed whistled. "Damn, that's a nifty piece of machinery there."
"Yup, and because the screen and memory are large enough it can be used to send messages and files. You can plug it into any computer. It has audio recording capabilities and everything can be sent back to a single interface in the main monitoring relay. Oh, and you can sync it with your cell phones so that you don't have to carry it around in street clothes, so if we send out a distress call from base, it sends it to the tac pads which forwards a code to everyone's regular phones."
"Sentinel, Iron Maiden, you have absolutely fucking outdone yourselves," Mysterion said with a wide grin. "Seriously fucking fantastic."
Sentinel beamed. "Well I figured we needed to replace some of the outdated crap we used, and Iron Maiden thought a central system would be better than keeping track of a bunch of phones."
"Well awesome work," Mosquito said as Sentinel passed the TAC pads around.
"I think that brings us to our last topic tonight. We need to work out a new system of code words. Like bad."
"Oh, Iron Maiden actually worked that out," Sentinel said once he returned to his seat. "He came up with a simple system to talk publicly that doesn't give anything away. Pretty genius actually."
Iron Maiden, with Sentinel's help, proceeded to explain how his coded system worked by integrating uncommon but inconspicuous word groups into their vocabulary to refer to things such as patrols, various degrees and types of crime, and League activites. Their TAC pads each dinged softly as the listed words were uploaded into the database.
"Alright so I think we should wrap it up here for the meeting and get set for patrols. Everyone be on the lookout for suspicious activity like Heidi. If we can head off further incidents we can hopefully get ahead of this thing. I'll hand out assignments for the week once we get back from patrol. Whole city tonight, we need to make sure our presence is still highly visible, and the cops can go fuck themselves if they don't like it."
-x-0-x-
The week passed with almost no suspicious activity. There was the occasional crackhead, a few muggings, but overall, the entire county was completely silent. A second week passed, and a third, until finally July rolled around. And then, still, it was silent as a grave.
The entire month that passed was spent mostly doing research. For Kyle this was ten-fold, because not only did he prefer spending his day with his nose in a book anyway but also because he worked at the library. Park County Library had an impressive collection of ancient lore and books on historical theory, and he spent much of his down time at work in the back, skimming every book he could for any mention or slight hint at what they were dealing with.
But the month wasn't all bad. After his first date with Lola, he'd earned himself a second, third, fourth and fifth dates, and then he just stopped counting. His days were filled with research, League activities, and Lola. On the day of the Summer Solstice, they'd had the "going steady" conversation and had decided that they were, in fact, going steady as a couple.
That meaning that Kyle finally had a girlfriend again.
And she was absolutely fascinating. Aside from being beautiful, active, popular and smart, she was great to talk to. They spent hours upon hours chatting away over dinner, coffee, deserts, walks, whenever they had time together. Whenever Kyle wasn't doing League work, at the Library, or spending time with the guys, it was a sure bet he'd be found with Lola.
The first week of July was fantastic. Kyle and Lola shared their first kiss (or rather, makeout session) behind the Library one day when she'd come over to see him while he was at work and the pair were both dealing with some frustration, which dissipated pretty easily with all the kissing and grabbing they did. He'd been heading out for a break when she caught him on the front steps, rushed up to him and hugged him tightly.
"You okay?" he asked her gingerly, patting her back.
"Yeah just... ugh. Stress at the shop, my mom's been sorta nutty since my dad is having his mid-life crisis. Just wanted to see you and vent," she said and let out a heavy sight.
"Oh well okay, let's head around back and talk. Then you can vent and we won't get funny stares." He took her hand and the pair strode around to the back of the library beside the large oak, where he liked to go and read, and sat down. "So, go ahead and vent."
Lola sighed again. "Well my dad is in the middle of a mid-life crisis. He keeps going out to these stupid strip clubs and now he wants to buy a Ferrari."
"Oh wow."
"Sometimes I wonder how all the adults in this town can be so... stupid, you know?"
He laughed. "Yeah believe me, I know." They lapsed into comfortable silence for a good minute before Lola spoke up again.
"Thanks."
"For what?"
"For you know... listening and stuff. And being here when I feel like going crazy."
For some strange reason Kyle felt the pit of his stomach twist. "Well I'm not going anywhere, so if you ever need me to vent or whatever-"
She cut him off, capturing his lips in a kiss. The surprise of it caught him off guard, but after several seconds the shock wore away and he closed his eyes to lean deeper into the kiss. It was simple and sweet, bearing both the thanks she wanted to tell him and her gratitude at his presence... and something else Kyle couldn't place but didn't care. She tasted like strawberries and sunlight. They broke apart for maybe a second for air and he reclaimed lost ground again, then pulled her into his lap.
She gripped his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her waist.
And then his phone went off.
The broke apart again. "Fuck, that's my alarm," he breathed. She giggled.
"You should get back to work. Text me when you get off, maybe we can go for ice cream or something."
"Yeah that sounds good." She got to her feet and allowed him to stand, and the pair made their way back around to the front of the building once again, where they parted ways.
-x-0-x-
They repeated the kissing four more times, in the front seat of his car, behind the Flower Shop, in the park, and against the driver's side door of her car. All in all, it was a good week.
But when the morning 7th rolled around, that changed in a fast way. It was Saturday, and since Kyle had the day off, he intended to sleep in before he had to start working on research again. Those plans were dashed when his phone went off. It rang once loudly and beeped to signal he'd gotten a text. He grabbed it groggily and flicked off the lock on the screen.
Good morning! Hope u have a good day! See u after work - Lola
He smiled and set the phone down again. He loved getting her messages in the morning, even if it meant he woke a little earlier than he wanted. His fingers had barely let go of the phone when it rang loudly and beeped again. With an eyebrow raised he picked it back up, unlocked the screen and stared at the message.
DOWNTOWN NOW, IN PROGRESS BLACK - Iron Maiden
Without a second thought he leaped out of bed, sprinted to his closet, and dressed as fast as he could. He could hear Ike doing the same in the next room over. They emerged from their rooms at the same time and crept down the stairs. Their parents were both still dead asleep. As they left through the front door and closed it quietly behind them, Kyle caught sight of someone sprinting up the sidewalk.
Kenny approached, living only two doors down from Kyle and next door to Stan, who was right behind him. "Dude what the fuck?" Kenny asked as they came to a stop in front of Kyle and Ike.
"I dunno, let's go," Kyle said, jerked open the driver's side door, unlocked the rest of the doors, and slid into the car. The other three followed suit and piled into the Buick. They pulled out into the street, Kyle driving a little faster than was probably necessary, speeding towards main street and out towards the base. He caught sight of Token's black SUV in his rear-view window, and discovered he was right behind Wendy's little white Toyota. The three cars pulled up and into the garage. Out of Token's car stepped Token, Christophe and Cartman, while Wendy and Clyde jumped out of her car. The group sprinted into the base, up to the barracks to grab their gear, and back down again into the meeting room, where Iron Maiden was already waiting.
"What's going on?" Kenny asked as they entered.
Ike sprinted across the room to the monitoring station, to which Timmy pointed. "Timmy Timmeh Timmeh."
"Dude he's right, she's acting just like Heidi," Ike muttered. "Guys I think this is gonna be a repeat, we need to gear up and respond."
"What's going on?" Kenny repeated a little more forcefully.
"I think we're about to have another murder-suicide, same actions. Henrietta Biggle is wandering the streets downtown, babbling insanely to herself and swinging around a knife."
The room went silent for a heartbeat. "Mother fucker," Kenny growled. "Alright gang, suit up. We're putting a stop to this right fucking now."
Leaving dead or alive... it's kind of scary to think about it. I once told Stan and Kenny that I could feel the air changing.
I think I might have been wrong though. I think the air already changed, and I noticed it too late.
I think whatever is going to happen... we might be too late to stop all of it.
I guess I just hope that we can stop the worst of it. I guess that makes this the beginning of the End.