Author's Note: For the first time in my life I got over 100 reviews, and for that I thank you!!!!!!!

Here's chapter 10- enjoy!

And, of course, sorry for spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my native language.

Four Days

Saturday Evening: The Eternal Marks

He has always been the most perverted one of their group, as well as the poorest one. Watching Stan and Kyle… he couldn't say he didn't enjoy it, but it felt somewhat wrong. Aside from the fact that two of his best friends were making out on the bed, it seemed to him, from the crack he and Cartman opened, that Stan was forcing himself on Kyle. To him, it felt like Stan was making Kyle love him, and poor Kyle seemed clueless, lost, even. At some point or another, he even seemed scared. It came as a surprise to the both of them when Kyle pushed Stan away from him, and then out of the room.

When Kenny used the skills he purchased over the years and unlocked the door with a pin, the room was empty. Kyle probably climbed down from the window and ran away. Stan was on his knees, sobbing, and Cartman was leaning on the wall, not sure what to do.

Kenny rubbed his forehead, thinking. "He probably didn't go far, with his fever and all…" he said. "We should go look for him."

"How?" Cartman asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. Stan's crying was still heard in the background. "I'm not going outside in this weather!"

"Speaking of which," Kenny started again, "He barely had clothes on himself. We should hurry and look for him!"

"And I repeat," Cartman said. "How?"

"With your car, dumbass!" Cartman was taken aback by this.

"Ey! I'm not going out with my car to look for the Jew!" he argued.

"You want him to freeze to death then?!" Cartman opened his mouth to say something in return, his face flushed, but he closed it and looked away, saying nothing. "Good," Kenny said. He never really liked to take control of things- it usually were Stan and Kyle, but now Stan was a wreck, and Kyle was… somewhere, and something had to be done. "Stan," the blond said, crouching. Stan wiped his eyes and sniffed, looking into Kenny's eyes through his glossy ones. "Listen," Kenny said, holding Stan's shoulders gently. "Pull yourself together, Stan. We're going out there to look for him. He probably is still close."

Stan nodded quickly, emitting one last sob. He stood up and wiped his eyes one last time. "Let's go," he said with a quivering voice.

Cartman huffed in the corner of the room. "Damn Jew, always getting himself into trouble…" Kenny and Stan glared at him before walking out.

oOo

It was getting dark, and every shadow of every thing became bigger. The darkness loomed over the running figure, threatening.

Kyle ran as fast as he could, which wasn't that fast, considering the fact that he was still sick. He was gasping for air after only minutes of running, and his feet were numb, which was expected since he had no shoes on. The wind was cold, and it bit at his pale skin and ruffled his red hair.

He fell, the snow making his body wet and freezing. He stayed on the ground, breathing hard. He tried to get up again with all his might, but could not do it. Frustrated, he clutched some snow, gritting his teeth. "Damn it…" he muttered, feeling tears choking his throat.

"Say, isn't that-" Kyle turned his head to look at two ladies standing across the street, staring at him. "-The Broflovskis' son?"

Kyle's eyes went wide.

Broflovski...You're a Jew?!

With strength he didn't know he had left, he screamed and got up, running like the wind towards an unknown place.

They were after him, all of them, staring and whispering, plotting to bring him down. He looked down at his arm, and noticed that the swastikas were now in a shade of pale blue. His screams came louder as he kept on running, as if he hoped to run away from the marks on his body although knowing he would not be able to do it.

As his breathing came harder, and as his feet became number, he saw the faces of the men, who hit him on every tree, in every window, lurking in every alley, waiting for a chance to attack.

Eventually, he surrendered to the cold and numbness and fell down. Through his suddenly blurred vision he noticed that he was still in the limits of the town. No one but himself was outside, seeing how cold it was, and the darkness took over the sky completely. It was just like… that time, on Thursday.

He could feel his brain hurting, and what little food he had in his stomach making its way up. He felt weak and exhausted, all human strength deprived from him and what left are the emotions and thoughts, running wild in his heart and mind.

His best friend was inlove with him, he could tell that much, just not why. He was dirty, he was marked, he was… a Jew, worthless, a young man that people all over the world are wishing to hunt down and kill. He gritted his teeth against the cold and the tears springing to his tired eyes. He wanted to run away from everything, run far far away to a place that nobody but himself will know of.

Kyle craved for Stan's love and kisses, he craved for his protecting arms, but if he were to get involved with him, then he would be in danger. For if they would find him again, they would see in his eyes what he'd done earlier today, and they would smirk and hit him for it. Stan would not find him this time, though, He would wake up on his own, naked, and crawl all the way back to Stan's house, weeping and pleading for help. But Stan wouldn't want him this time: he would look at his crouching figure from above, his lips would curve into an evil smile, and he would reject him. No one would want a hated person like him.

Kyle's eyes tiredly gazed at the now blue swastikas on his body and his tears flowed. This is the eternal evidence that he'd been marked.

He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, he wanted and craved for Stan's love, but on the other hand, he was afraid to receive it. He was afraid that if he will, he would find himself alone and bleeding, rejected from the world.

How did he become like this? He was always happy and full of energy, and look at him now… afraid and paranoid, lying on the cold ground and waiting for… something. Death, maybe? Did he want to die?

Maybe he did; that way, everyone would be happy. Stan wouldn't have to bear with him, his mother would finally be pleased, and all would be… just… great.

He was wailing now, hiding his face in the snow, letting it soak his clothes and skin. He was shaking, both from the crying and the cold.

"Look! Over there!" He turned his head tiredly in the direction of the vaguely familiar voice, and his eyes went wide. Three men were coming his way, and he felt like he knew them. Can it be that-

"It's the Jew!" another one said, and Kyle panicked. He tried to get up, but his entire body felt numb. He was crying and screaming at the same time, thrashing about wildly.

"He's trying to get away!" someone screamed, and he heard six pairs of legs running his way. He screamed louder and shut his eyes, trying to focus his energy in getting up, without much success.

"Grab him!" Kyle kicked and punched, not seeing and not caring where. As long as he hit someone, it was good.

"Ouch! He kicked me!" Success.

"Come one, grab his legs!" someone was pinning him down. Failure.

"I don't think he recognizes us…"

"It doesn't matter! Come on, help us here!"

"You're not getting away this time," someone hissed, straining his voice. Kyle felt pleased with himself that he gave them a hard time; this time he won't let them get him…

"Get away from me! I didn't do anything!" he yelled as someone grabbed his arms violently.

"Goddamnit, he's strong!" they struggled to keep him down, he knew it. In that case, he still had a chance… but he was getting weaker.

"Stupid Jew!" their hold on him tightened, and he felt himself weakening, losing… surrendering.

"Please, no!" he yelled, sobbing. "I've had enough! It's not my fault! He did all the work, I didn't want him to kiss me!"

"What?"

"Fag…"

"I was born like this!" he tried again. "Blame my mother! Don't hurt me, please!"

"I think he's delirious…"

"Well, it sure isn't helping us! Stop standing there and come and help us!!"

"I have an idea…" was he imagining the scheming in his voice?

"No! Don't!"

Someone kicked him in the stomach, and he coughed violently. He felt the weight being removed from his legs.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

"Isn't this what you wanted?!"

"Yes, but not like this!"

"In which way then?!"

"Hold him down, first! He's getting weaker!"

"Holding him down might work if he will move from the wall, but he isn't!"

"Come and help us!"

"But I-"

"No buts! You want it as much as we do, if not more! Enough with the excuses!"

"I didn't see you had problems with holding him before…"

Silence followed, and Kyle did not know what to think, when suddenly the weight that was removed before returned with extra weight on his back. He screamed at the top on his lungs, but his struggles became futile.

"Quick, before someone sees us!" he was being lifted from the cold ground, yet even though the snow was no longer a problem, he felt so very colder. His tears came faster and his screams and sobs louder. "Help! Somebody! Please, they're going to kill me!" he yelled, and before he got to see if someone heard his pleas for help, he was thrown against something, and all sounds from the outside were blocked.

"I think someone saw us! Go, go!"

"Thank Goodness it's over…"

"Over? What are you talking about? Look at him, it's just starting!"

Kyle felt paralyzed all over and he could hear his heart beating in his ears. His sobs quieted down so only fearful squeaks, along with the occasional whimper, were heard from him. His vision was still blurred and unfocused, and he was freezing and hot at the same time. His breathing was quick, he felt like throwing up, and everything was spinning, colors were mixing…

"Hey, I think he's fainting!"

Mixing and swirling to bright shades which became darker by the second, until all was black. He felt like he was slowly falling, but he never hit the ground.


To Be Continued…