Author's Note: Long ass chapter ahead. To be honest, I could have posted it sooner but I just decided to keep writing and before I know it, I'm 7,000+ words along. So, instead of waiting until Wednesday, I'm posting today. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.
Warning: language, slight violence
My Best Friend
Something was different today, Bain could feel it.
It all started when his mother shooed him out of the house so that he could go to school. Instead of meeting Charlie, he found a car waiting in front of his house with that Gary kid who was waving at him. Without the protection Charlie usually casted on him, he noticed how much bigger Gary was from how he towered over him to how broad his shoulders were, hinting at him either being a muscular hulk or an obese stricken guy.
For some reason, he was leaning more towards the former.
He tightened the black trenchcoat that he had managed to prevail on wearing that day over his mother's objection around his body, as if it would protect him from some unseen danger.
"Great morning, isn't it?" Gary greeted him as he opened the passenger side door for him. He looked around uncertainly before being coaxed in by that charming smile the blond had. Where was Charlie anyway? Was she going to meet him at the school?
"I heard that you're just hanging out in school," Gary mentioned as he drove them. "You don't have to do any work, just sit around and make friends, right? You already passed a test that's going to let you skip to the next year."
He nodded cautiously. That's what he had been told thus far by his mother, his father not really saying much because he didn't see the man very often. He didn't remember much about the guy, and that included from the time he left the hospital. If he had to describe his father, he'd have to say he was some kind of ghost.
"How about you come to my classes today?" Gary suggested in their one sided conversation. "Just mix things up. Plus, I hear that people have been picking on you. I figure, if they don't know where you are ahead of time, they won't be able to pull something big on you."
He…he had a point. Bain wasn't having any luck poking a hole in the argument so he figured, well, why not?
"What about Charlie?" he asked, the first thing he had contributed on his own to the conversation.
"Oh. Well, we'll just tell her what's up when we see her," Gary said happily.
In that case, he supposed that was okay…
Having expected Charlie to be waiting for him in front of the school, he was mildly surprised not to see her in sight. He wasn't really keen with time but shouldn't she be here by now? Before he could think hard about it, he found Gary taking his hand and leading him into the school, the blond shielding him from the sight of Token and Clyde who seemed surprised at his change in guard.
He could feel eyes on him, all of them wondering what was going on, why wasn't he with Charlie and what was Gary doing holding his hand? He began to feel extremely anxious in the unexpected breach in his routine and he gripped Gary's hand tighter as if that hand was the one lifeline that was keeping him afloat.
Reaching Gary's first class, he found himself stopping with the blond as there was someone ahead of them, paused in the doorway. A girl with deep red hair and blue eyes that seemed to almost blend in with the whites of her eyes was glaring at them. He felt a throb in his head but as sudden as it had come, it was gone. Huh, what had that been about?
"Morning DJ!" Gary greeted the girl, seemingly oblivious to the hostility the girl was radiating.
Those blue eyes twitched, as if moving away from Bain to focus more on Gary. "What are you doing with him?" the girl demanded. Hmm, something about the venom in that voice…it was so familiar… Where had he heard it before?
"I'm showing him around," Gary answered.
"You know he's just faking it," DJ stated.
"Faking amnesia?" Gary asked skeptically. "I don't think so. Sure people have in the past but this is the real deal."
"You are such an idiot," DJ stated before going into the classroom, not deigning to give them another glance.
"Just ignore her," Gary's voice spoke. "DJ is…she's a very introverted person. Don't take her seriously."
Whatever he said…
Leading him into the room where he could feel the intensity of DJ's stare, Gary led him to a desk that he explained was the one he usually sat at but for today he could sit in it. He was starting to get the hang of this assigned seating arraignment that all the classes seemed to have. Violating the arraignment seemed to be a big deal around here, which was soon reinforced as that kid in the green hat (he was Kyle, wasn't he?) showed up and frowned at Gary.
"What are you doing in my seat?" the guy asked.
"Hey Kyle! I didn't think you would mind it if I sat here today," Gary answered. "I'm showing Bain around today."
"Dude, why are you hanging around with that kid?" Kyle demanded disapprovingly.
"Because he needs a friend," Gary answered easily. "He needs more than just Charlie. Since none of you guys are going to do it, I will, and let me say that I don't want any of you guys trying to pull something on him."
"Do you think he would do the same thing if you were in his shoes?" Kyle asked, his voice sharp. "You can't tell me you've forgotten what he was like."
"Why does that matter?" Gary countered easily. "That's who he was then; this is who he is now. Only people with low self-esteem and tiny balls would pick on a kid with amnesia."
Kyle seemed outraged yet he didn't say anything, as if something about Gary's words had struck something in him. "Whatever," he grumbled, stalking away to another seat.
Watching this, Bain turned his attention back to Gary and said, "Uh…Gary?"
"Yes?" Gary looked back at him, that ever present friendly smile on his face.
"What you said back there…who I was then," he asked slowly, unsure. "What do you…what do you know about me? Before I forgot everything?"
Was it just him or did Gary's smile get a little sad? "To be honest, I didn't know anything about you before your accident. Only what I heard."
"What…what did you hear?" he asked, almost desperate. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't really been told about his past. No one ever mentioned it, talked about it, and he hadn't really asked about it either. Maybe it was time that he did.
"Not much," Gary said apologetically. "I just heard that you weren't a real friendly person."
Nothing and then, "Is that it?"
"I'm sorry," Gary said, scratching the back of his head. "We were doing our own things and never talked with one another."
"I see," he said quietly.
"Why don't you just tell him he's an evil, psychopathic, sexist asshole already?" a voice cut in, causing Bain to turn his head in the direction of DJ who was glowering at him.
"What?" he asked, blinking dumbly.
"You know what you are," DJ stated to his face. "Stop with the act and drop it. You hate everyone and have already killed someone. You and Charlie duked it out because you hate each other. You should have drowned in Stark's Pond and saved everyone the trouble, asshole."
"DJ!" Gary snapped at the girl, no longer looking friendly. In fact, the look he was giving the girl got DJ to shut up pretty quickly, as if she hadn't been expecting such a thing either. After a moment of silence, Gary finally said quietly, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."
Bain was silent as he took it all in. Half of the stuff she said didn't make sense; what did she mean by sexist? And he fought with Charlie? He couldn't hate her, could he? She was so nice to him so why would he? But most of all, there was one thing that he couldn't figure out.
"Are you okay?" Gary asked, slightly shaking his shoulder in worry. He looked at the blond and blinked.
"What's an asshole?"
Gary stared at him, as if trying to figure out how best to answer him but was thus far unsuccessful. How could you tell someone what an asshole was, especially with the meaning that DJ meant? And…what was an asshole anyway?
Bain waited for Gary to answer expectantly but the blond couldn't come up with a satisfactory answer before the bell rang for first period to begin. However, before the teacher could begin her lesson plan, she was cancelled out by the beeping of the intercom, the morning announcements starting a couple hours early.
It soon became apparent as to why the announcements were early…
Is this thing on? Oh really? It ain't mah fault this school's wiring is shitty! Ahem…
Bain found himself frowning for some reason; wasn't that voice that Cartman guy's?
Students of South Park High, I have a very important announcement for yous. The main office has found a pair of balls and would like for Bain Cynis to pick them up. Bain Cynis, please come pick up your balls at the main office. You seem to be missing your pair.
Bain could hardly hear the end of that as the class was raucous with laughter. Some students were clutching their sides, others their desks, while a couple were on the floor, laughing it up. He didn't know why but he had the feeling that he should feel embarrassed or at least humiliated.
Wait, how did he know humiliate and what did it mean?
Also, I want to declare that today is 'Pick on Assholes with Different Colored Eyes' Day! If you see anyone with different colored eyes and they are an asshole, make their life a living hell people! It's the latest fad!
Why was everybody looking at him with those looks?
Oh! And one last thing. Be sure to spit on any Jews you happen to see. It's what those Jesus-killing fags deserve! Thank you.
"Goddamn it Cartman!" Kyle roared from his seat, glaring at the ceiling where the intercom.
Second period wasn't over by the time Bain had enough. As laughter trailed after him, Gary calling after him in concern, he fled to the first sanctuary he could find. That sanctuary was the boy's bathroom but before he entered, he had to make sure that it was the boy's bathroom and not the girls'.
It was bad out there; as soon as Cartman's announcement was over, the torment had begun. It had started small; just a few names and insults but it grew out of control from there. For some reason, the teacher wasn't doing anything and if he looked at her, he could have sworn that she too was enjoying it. Because he wasn't in the usual classroom, the students couldn't pull out anything they had prepared in advance but they were good at improvising.
First came the dryboard erasers then the class trashcan being upended and dumped all over him. Gary tried to stop it, tried to make it ease up but he couldn't cover all angers as spitballs were soon employed.
He was out of there with Gary when the bell rang but it was like walking off the pan and into the fire. Before he knew it, he was pulled away from Gary's side and becoming acquainted with the inside of a locker. He was panicking within, trying to tear his way out of it all the while people were laughing and jeering at him from the other side. It got quiet for a moment before the door was torn open and he was being hauled out of it by none other than Charlie.
Whatever gratitude he had welling up in him soon died at the foul look Charlie was giving him. She shoved him in the direction of Gary and told him to enjoy his new boyfriend. He couldn't understand why she was so mad. The fact that she seemed to be joining in with the others hurt far worse than he had expected.
And the jokes and taunts that were thrown at him next, oh they were just filled to the brim with homophobic insults. The abuse followed both of them as Gary led him into his second period but Cartman was there waiting for him.
It had gotten to a climax when he was hit with an apple. The apple had bounced off him and landed on the desk where it steadied but he found he couldn't take his eyes off of it. The red peel glistened in the artificial light and the only thing that was running through his mind beign surrounded by the color red and being slowly crushed by it. His breath had quickened and he screamed out loud before fleeing the classroom and heading for a place that he could hide.
Ultimately, it led him up to this point, him in the boys' bathroom leaning over a sink, his head hovering over porcelain bowl as he caught his breath and calmed down. He didn't want to come out because he knew deep in his hear that things were going to get worse. He was lucky that no one had dumped any food or liquids on him yet but his trenchcoat did have some chalk residue, though where they came from he had no idea.
Water ran from the faucet and he cupped his hands under the spray, splashing his face to destroy the tearmarks on his cheeks. He didn't want to give any of them out there more ammo to use against him. However, the tears weren't from all the abuse he was suffering; it was more from the headache that he could feel throbbing behind his eyes. The headache was fairly recent, showing up just after he escaped from second period.
It felt like something was in his head, clawing against something, trying to break out…
He heard someone enter the bathroom and he peeked up from his hands to look in the mirror. He found the reflection of that Stan guy smirking at him and he groaned audibly. They couldn't give him some time to himself, could they?
"Cartman wasn't kidding," Stan said, arms crossed over his chest. "I guess Cartman's Pick on Assholes with Different Colored Eyes Day is a success."
He said nothing to Stan, focusing more on his headache than anything.
He could hear the other teen's footsteps as he approached him. "Aw, do you have a boo boo?" Stan teased. "You know, it don't matter how hard you scrub, you're never going to get rid of your face, freak."
Something snapped; he couldn't tell you what it was but what happened next came in a blur yet at the same time so clear that he could recount each movement he made. He spun around on his heel, swinging a fist that landed right in Stan's throat. As the larger teen chocked and grabbed at his neck, his blue eyes bulging, Bain was grabbing Stan's head and pulling him towards him, smashing the jock's head right into the middle and creating a spider web of cracks in it.
Pull Stan back from the mirror, he spun the boy around and shoved him backwards into the side of a stall, Stan sliding down against it until he sat on his ass. By now, Bain's vision was nothing but red and he was marching at the teen, grabbing Stan's head again and bashing it against the stall wall repeatedly.
The moment something wet struck his face, he stopped, letting go of Stan and backing away slowly. He placed his hand against his face and pulled it away, noting the small red droplets that stuck to his fingers. Looking back at Stan, he stared in horror at the blood that was seeping out of a gash on his forehead, the teen sitting dazed and uncomprehending of what was going on.
Had…had he done that? For a moment, he had felt different, as if he was somebody else. He saw the broken mirror and he turned his head to look at it, observing his fractured reflection. For a moment, it looked like there was a completely different person glaring back at him and that was the catalyst for him to spin on his heel and flee out of the bathroom.
He shoved open the door and ran down the hallway, ignoring how Cartman lay in front of the restroom, the door having slammed him in the face and pushed him backwards. He needed to get out of here, especially as that headache had begun to intensify. He could hear voices behind him yelling things but he couldn't make them out.
Before he knew it, he was slamming open a door and running out of the school into the snowy landscape beyond. But he didn't stop, he continued to run and run and even as he grew tired, he ran some more. Where was he going? He didn't know and he didn't care. He just needed to get as far away as he could or he felt he was going to do something else, something bad…
The shrill shriek of a carhorn broke him out of his trance and he realized he was in the middle of the road in downtown South Park? How had he gotten this far? He didn't know but he didn't stand in the middle of the road either, getting onto the sidewalk while a car passed him with its irate driver flicking him off.
He gasped for air, leaning his body against a building and began to wonder what he should do now. He knew he was going back to that school, no way, no how. But it was still early in the day and he knew Sierra was still at the house. He couldn't go back there and he didn't want to go to Charlie's either so then where…?
Hadn't that DJ girl said something? Stark's Pond? Yeah, she mentioned that he should have drowned there. Maybe if he went there, he could find some answers…
He had trekked through the town but finally he had found the place where he had deduced this had all started at. He shivered and wrapped his trenchcoat tightly around his body as he stood at the shore of the icy pond. The ends of his legs were wet with slush and the chill permeated to the bone.
So this was Stark's Pond, Bain wondered. This was the place that DJ girl had alluded to? He knew it was Stark's Pond because there was a sign just over there that said so but he had been expecting something else. Now that he thought about it, he didn't know what he had been expecting.
Here he was and yet nothing. Nothing was coming to mind, nothing to jog the memory that he was searching desperately for. It was here he received his amnesia and now that he was back here, shouldn't that mean he would start remembering?
He grunted and put a hand to his throbbing head; that headache had stayed with him ever since he had escaped from school and by now he was beginning to get a little annoyed by it. Why wouldn't it go away? Why hadn't he any control over his life? No matter what he tried to grasp, it always crumbled in his hands, increasing his frustration and despair.
Edging closer to the solidified water…what did solidify mean anyway? Well, anyway, he was close enough to the edge of the pond that he could still stay on dry land while testing his footing on the ice. It looked solid enough so he thought that maybe he could get something else by changing his physical perception of the place.
No sooner had he started putting a little weight down on the ice did he stumble back from how thin it actually was. Water sloshed out from the hole he had inadvertently made and he had backed away as quickly as he could. In his head, something was telling him not to get any closer; the ice wouldn't hold up his weight and he could fall under.
For some reason, it made him feel a little out of breath.
As he stood there, breathing heavily, wondering what he was suppose to do now, he was struck with a crippling pain in his head as his headache's intensity rose to a crescendo. He clutched at his head and when that didn't do anything, he cried out in a harsh, throaty yell.
He staggered a few steps to his right, pressing his hands harder and harder against his skull, eyes clenched tightly. Had they been open, it would have been debatable whether he would have noticed the trickle of blood leaking from his nose, dripping down to stain the pure white snow.
Grunting, he threw himself into a fluffy snow drift, sinking easily and burying his head into it. Hopefully the cold of the snow could alleviate the pressure that was pounding within his skull. However, he was able to notice that he had sunk a bit too deep into the drift. Removing one hand from his aching head, he pressed it down into the snow, hoping to push himself slightly up. His hand, instead, dove further into the snow where it came into contact with something a bit more unyielding.
Cracking open an eye in confusion, he blindly searched the object with his fingertips and grasped what he figured was some kind of oblong object. Leaning backwards, he managed to partial removing himself from the drift enough so that he could pull out his arm and discover what he had found in the hope of distracting himself from the headache.
He froze up as he found that he held a large knife in his hand.
As soon as his eyes landed on the glinting blade, his fingers that had once held the blade's handle tightened, aligning in way that was eerily natural, as if they had held this knife before.
And then, unbidden, his head throbbed and he bowed it, eyes clenched shut once more but instead of seeing black, something else came up.
He was walking away from a large building, South Park Elementary to be precise. It would be his last year in the godforsaken building, his intellect having been stifled in that redneck churning abomination.
To be corralled with all the mental deficits, it was an affront to his ego. Once sixth grade was finished, it would be to South Park Junior High for the seventh and eighth grades but he was none too thrill about that prospect either.
Just two more years he'd be stuck with these sheep.
But more to the present, he knew he was being followed; his stalkers weren't being very secretive about their movements. Sure he could continue on home but there was no way he was going to lead those three horses' asses to where he slept. No, he would have to deal with them and more than that, ensure they wouldn't try to pull a stunt like this again.
In fact, in his sleeve he had a little number that would do just the trick.
The way he was going wasn't his usual route back home; no he was reading towards the commercial district of the town, i.e. downtown. As he reached the border between the residential and commercial districts, he cut into an alley that served as a makeshift border between them. With a wooden fence to his right and a dumpster to his left, he settled himself against the dumpster and faced the entrance to the alley, arms crossed over his chest.
He schooled his facial features into a scowl and waited for his followers to appear, which they did all too soon. Hmm, Craig Tucker, Clyde Donovan, and Token Black, why wasn't he surprised. Already he was eyeing the trio, measuring what their worth would be to his made-on-the-spot plan and how they could best benefit him.
In way, these three showing up couldn't have worked better if he had planned it from the beginning. Craig Tucker with his focus on having life 'nice and boring' would be a more credible and valuable pawn for him to use.
"Done running away?" Clyde Donovan spoke first, surprisingly enough to him since he was expecting either Craig or Token to have the first word.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were waiting for us," Token smirked at him.
Snorting, he replied his a velvety yet scratchy voice, "Actually, I don't like the thought of any of you knowing where I sleep at night."
"You calling us homos?" Clyde frowned at him.
"No, fags. You're certainly inconsiderate as one," he replied smoothly.
Meanwhile, Craig, the most stoic one of the three, had yet to say anything. If anything, those dark eyes were studying him, trying to find some reason for his confidence. He knew that of the trio, Craig was the most mature in both body and mind as he had entered puberty earlier than any of the males in school. Whether he displayed it or not, Craig was smart and he didn't pick a fight any time he felt like it either.
A foe worthy of respect in his mind but still nothing but a mere pissant.
He said nothing and only smirked back at the trio, waiting for one to make the first move. It was vital for one of them to do it, it didn't matter which one. His role was to be reactive, not proactive.
Come on, you stupid sons of bitches, do something!
It was Clyde who ventured close and the glare he was spotting was an obvious sign that he had pressed the right button. Considered to be the second fattest boy in school, though unlike a certain someone Clyde was just big boned, he showed some force when he grabbed him by the lapels of his trenchcoat and pulled him towards him.
"Listen you asswipe," the brunet began to speak but was interrupted as he wrapped an arm around those husky shoulders and brought Clyde even closer to his petite form. With his other hand, he slid out his secret weapon and stabbed it into Clyde's stomach.
"Dude, what's he doing?" Token asked. "That looks so gay!" Heh, he wouldn't be saying that if he knew what was really going on…
Clyde had froze up against him, his grip on his coat slackening. With his smirk widening ever so slightly, he maliciously twisted his hidden object then shoved Clyde away from him. The boy fell back from him but was caught by Craig who had reacted quickly. He could read the confusion in those dark eyes, as if wondering how on Earth someone as small as him was batting someone like Clyde around so easily.
"Dude, what the hell?" Craig demanded. "What kind of pansy are you getting knocked around by this creep?"
"I'd be less worried about his masculinity and more about his gaping wound," he said idly, fiddling with the now-revealed knife in his hand that was stained with blood. It was kind of comical in a way as it looked like the knife was too big for him.
"Holy shit!" Token swore as he saw the knife and took a step back.
Frowning, Craig looked down at Clyde but for the life of him couldn't find anything wrong with his paling friend. As if the idea had struck him, he tore open Clyde's red jacket where now a spreading red spot could be seen staining Clyde's shirt.
"Jesus…" Craig breathed, his eyes wide open in shock.
"You might want to get him some help," he told the two boys as he picked up a discarded newspaper and began to wipe the blood off his knife. "Oh, and if you go telling anyone just how he got that," he continued, his eyes half-lidded yet sharp as they observed the light gleaming off his knife, "then I hope you're ready to learn what it'll be like to be an orphan."
By now, Craig was holding Clyde while Token was kneeling next to the wounded boy and trying to apply pressure to the wound so as to stem the bleeding. The black kid glared up at him and demanded, "What the fuck is that suppose to mean?"
"It means you tell that I stabbed Donovan here then I'll slaughter your parents," he said casually. "And before you start saying BS, think about this. If I'm able to stab someone my own age once, all it takes is to stab a few more times before a stabbing becomes a murder. And don't think I won't."
"Son of a bitch," Craig growled at him but it seemed like his point had gone across. The boy in blue was working to balance Clyde against him so that he could carry him to someone who could get him help.
"No argument there," he replied as he threw the newspaper into the dumpster and strolled away, his knife uncovered and opened to the sight of any prying eye, "but this is one son of a bitch who's not going to be taking any of your shit."
He was practically grinning as he left, exiting from the opposite end of the alley and heading back into the residential district of town. In hindsight, he'd call himself an amateur for throwing that newspaper away instead of taking it with him to be destroyed as well as parading his weapon of assault out in the open instead of hiding it back into his coat. But at this time, he was in the midst of a high, a feeling that he couldn't remember ever having.
And damn was it addicting…
He examined the large metal clad knife, his fingers stroking the metal of the handle lovingly. There was so much promise that this knife held. It was the first thing that ever gave him a semblance of power and even though there was a good chance that his threat would fall on deaf ears, he found that he didn't regret stabbing that bastard back there like a pig.
This knife…oh, this knife would be the closest thing he would ever have as a friend, he realized as the kids at school would assume the truth, not knowing that their rumors weren't false but true. And if this knife was to be his only friend, then wouldn't his best friend have to have a name? Yes, it would, and right in that moment a name did pop up in his mind.
Yes, he would name it…
"Winslow."
Bain's eyes snapped open but no longer was there a hint of vulnerability nor a speck of innocence in them. No, his eyes were hardened, cruel even and anger, oh sweet anger was welling up in his body, traveling through his veins like a drug that he hadn't taken in a long time.
Yes, yes, there was a reason why he was hated so. And here in his hand, his fingers curled around the handle as if they grasped the hand of an old friend. For a time, he was utter helpless, left to those bastards' mercy and what did they do…?
Well, no more mister nice guy. They'd pay; they would all pay for their transgressions. Did they really think they would be getting away with this? Oh no, revenge would be a dish served cold and it would scar their memories for years to come, no decades!
Funny, that one girl DJ believed that this was all an act. Well, the act would start now and Shakespeare would cry tears of blood at the tragedy that was to unfold. He…he…
He blinked as all the untamable anger washed away. What…what had happened? For a moment there, it felt like he knew everything, everything from his past that he so desperately craved. But it looked as if it was all gone…all gone except for that one memory, the one that occurred in an alley where three of his present day tormenters had tried to corner him.
It was just one memory but even now he clung to it, not understanding the emotions behind it just yet. He clung to it as firmly as he clung to Winslow and for once felt possessive over it. He didn't want to share this memory with anyone but it shouldn't be too hard to keep it a secret, right?
If no one knew, they wouldn't question him about it. That logic was pretty straightforward, wasn't it? It seemed like there were so many possibilities, like he could see the world so clearly now as his mind seemed to absorb everything from his surroundings and file the information away in a highly compartmentalized system of storage. It was almost like he was thinking differently!
He felt clarity at long last as well as a hunger to find out more and with Winslow at his side, he felt an uncharacteristic surge of confidence that nothing would stand in his way.
It wasn't often that Charlie felt guilty but after hearing how Bain had run out of school was such a thing that put the foreign feeling into her. She couldn't help but feel that she had helped to make Bain run but she had felt so pissed that morning!
He hadn't been home when she came to pick him up and when she got to school, she found out that he was clinging onto the Mormon kid. Spending first period with a bunch of people asking her about where her "husband" was had further irritated her.
And despite being ticked off, she could now rationalize that when she had pulled him out from that locker, telling him to enjoy Gary like she had wasn't the best thing she could have done. Before she had gotten out of earshot, she had just starting hearing the murmurs of homophobia but instead of stopping and turning back, she continued forward confident that Bain would learn his lesson.
What that lesson was, even she couldn't tell you what it was.
So when she heard about Bain, she ignored the bit about Stan and how he needed to go to the nurse. Something had happened but for some reason, Stan wasn't talking about it, as if he was embarrassed about it. Well, whatever, she'd go track Bain down later, she told herself. She needed to be in a calm state of mind when she did.
It didn't occur to her that she had no idea of where to start looking for him until after she showed up at the Cynis household and found that he hadn't appeared.
Kyra was in the zone.
With her headset attached, her Xbox 360 fired up, and various snacks and liquids set up around her, she was good to go to kick some virtual ass. She jabbed at the A button, snipering another enemy off the map and smirking as she could hear the player she had just killed swear.
It was moments like these she lived for.
She didn't really speak into her headset as she liked the bit of anonymity she had. She player name was well-known in the gaming community and because she didn't speak, no one knew whether she was a girl or a guy which suited her just fine. Being sworn at and being called anything from bastard to bitch to smartass motherfucker and one time a moral less hermaphrodite was a guilty pleasure of hers.
She was moving her character to a new place to pwn some noobs, easily lobbing a sticky grenade onto an enemy player and blowing them to smithereens. She controller vibrated as she was struck by some gunfire but she had her character taking evasive maneuvers while picking up a rocket launcher and bombarding the general area of her attacker, killing a few other players who happened to be in the vicinity.
Goddamn it! Where the hell is that son of a bitch hiding! a familiar whiny voice yelled from her headset and she smirked. I'm gonna find that motherfucker and—ay! Who the hell fucking killed me? You again? Goddamn it!
Wasn't she lucky to get in on a free-for-all battle and have Cartman here to pick on? He may have been a titan out there but on Halo, he was her bitch and she enjoyed assraping him each and every time.
I think he's hiding in here, came Stan's voice but instead of feeling shy or insecure, Kyra was feeling aggressive and she lied in wait until her newest victim popped in. Aww! He got me! Token or Brandon, anybody! Fuckin' avenge me! Damn it, Butters, I know you're somewhere around here!
Hey Stan! Well speak of the devil, there was Butter's character…and now there was Butter's character getting sniped. Aw hamburgers…
Goddamn it! she heard Stan swear. Kyle, are you here? Where the hell are you dick?
Probably talking to some Canadian whore or something, Cartman guessed. Ey! Killed fucking again? God fucking damn it!
The game came to an end and Kyra smirked at her name in the first place spot once again. Ah, that felt good. She picked up a bottle soda and chugged half of it down, wiping away some residue and signing on for another game. Putting her controller down for a moment, she stretched her arms above her head, moaning when she felt some pops in her arms and shoulders. Ah, that felt better…
As the next game began, she was already picking up some weapons and searching for a sniper rifle. With her sharp eyes, she caught movement and hid her character just long enough to see if another player was coming close. Counting down from three to herself, she came out of hiding, firing like it was the end of the world and killed the other player.
She frowned when her character suddenly collapsed and the current score of the game appeared on the screen. Okay, who the hell killed her? As the game beeped, signally that she was about to respawned, she grabbed a handful of chips and stuffed them in her mouth, wiping her hand off with a hand towel before tightening her grip on the controller and getting down to business.
As player after player fell to her rampage, she could feel the tension in her body slowly ebb away. She had woken up that morning with the intention of going up to Bain and possibly offer a hand of friendship or something. That plan, of course, went out the window the moment Bain was driven out of the school and she had to hear the voices of many of the guys boasting about it. However, what irked her the most was the reaction she had gotten from Kim about it during lunch.
She was really beginning to feel as if she should start distancing herself from the blond. Kim was really getting into the Bain torture and when she wasn't doing that or talking with Bebe, she could see her trying to talk with Kyle. Practically everyone knew about her crush on Kyle except for perhaps Kyle. For being one of the smartest kids in school, Kyle was sure oblivious to Kim's affections.
And of course, she would have to endure Kim sulking the rest of the day as her attempt to flirt with Kyle went nowhere once again. Kyra would say there would be karma going on there but she wasn't into the eastern religions.
Boom! Wow, pretty explosion. The players flying out of the fiery cloud were an added bonus to that as well as the chorus of shouts from the killed players.
Goddamn it, she just loved pwning noobs!
With the click of his mouse, Kyle sent his latest message to hellspawn666. Sure, he could be playing Halo Reach with the rest of the guys but he was more interested in chatting with his internet friend than pwning some noobs.
With the ding! he eagerly read the latest message from hellspawn666. He had been telling her about the recent events at school and what was going on with the Bain situation. He had confided in her that he was unsure of whether or not he should still be a part of the thing as his conscience had begun to rear its head.
He did not want to express any of these doubts to the other guys, especially Cartman who would either call him a Negative Nancy or rip on him for being a Jewish killjoy. Both of those were not a desired outcome he wanted to face.
Reading demonspawn666's response, he thought about what to say next. It wasn't like she was berating him or anything. Mostly it was just a bunch of huhs and really. It was as if hellspawn666 was apathetic to this whole thing. Sure she usually didn't seem affected by some of the stuff he had told her and when he told her about some really, really bad stuff, it seemed like it took her forever to respond.
Finally, deciding to fuck it and asking to know what was up with her, he typed: Dude, you don't really seem to be mad about this. What's up? Reading over it and making a few changes, he sent the message and waited for the reply. The minutes seemed to drag on until, finally, he heard the ding!
What do you expect me to say? I've never been in a situation where I've picked on someone with amnesia. Do you want me to say that you're pathetic for doing that? Tell you that it's not cool? To be honest, I don't really care that you're bullying a guy with amnesia.
He stared at the response flabbergasted. What the hell? Before he could compose a reply, there was another ding!
I don't mean to sound like an ass. I can see you've been giving this a lot of thought and I don't want to put you down. This is just something that doesn't really get to me. At all. I don't know why either. But, you know, maybe we can talk about something else, okay?
Okay, that kinda placated him a bit but he was still unsettled by demonspawn666's previous reply. But c'mon, how could you not be disgusted by it? If the douchebags who called themselves social commentators got wind of this, they'd be crucifying and demonizing the town. It happened once when the town made a city ordinance declaring that all Harley riders were fags.
This is just something that's bugging me. Sorry. I mean, I see some of the guys at school doing it and they don't seem to give two shits about it, like there was nothing wrong about it. But it is wrong. The guy doesn't remember shit so he won't understand why people are picking on him. he wrote. Reading over it and making a few corrections, he sent the message and waited.
I can see that this is really bothering you. Tell you what, why don't we meet up somewhere and talk face to face?
If that wasn't a cause for alarm then at least it made Kyle tense up. Meet up? Face to face? They had only met online a few months ago and while he felt secure enough to share some things with hellspawn666, he wasn't sure that meeting her was going to help any. If anything, knowing him, he'd meet up with some pedophile who would kidnap him and rape him, giving him AIDS and make Cartman the happiest Anti-Semitic on the planet.
I'm not sure… he wrote.
You're thinking I'm some kind of child molester or something, right? Don't worry, I'm not anything like that. I'm not even that old. Tell you what, tell me the city you live in and if it's close enough, I'll drive there and meet you somewhere public, like a coffee shop or something.
Kyle bit his lip. He wanted to refuse but at the same time he wanted to accept. Hesitantly, he typed South Park, Colorado and sent it.
Not a minute later, hellspawn666 replied.
I know where that is. I've been there before but had to move away. I can be there in a jiffy if my dad will let me go. I'm positive he will.
In some way, he relaxed at that.
Ever been to Tweek Coffee House? I can meet you there at 11 a.m. on Saturday.
It's perfect. But to be sure you know who I am, I'm going to be holding an arm. Don't get spooked by it, okay?
Figuring that it was just a manikin arm hellspawn666 was talking about, he agreed, feeling a bit lightheaded.
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.