I don't really like this chapter very much. I felt I rushed it. So sorry if it didn't turn out well.
Chapter 11: Heal
"No Eric, I'm not doing it!" Butters cried, as he was in Cartman's garage.
"Come on Butters, I need you!"
"Well, you can do it yourself. You did a horrible thing that last time I was in your band. I said no." He started walking away.
"Butters!"
The blond-haired kid stopped.
"I need you on the drums!"
"I'm not doing it!" He ran off.
"Fine, I'll get somebody else!"
Butters kept running and running. He ran for a while, when he heard sobbing. He quietly walked, trying to find out where it was coming from. And then he found Kyle. He ran over. "Kyle!"
The Jew was sitting, with his knees up. He then stopped crying when he heard the voice.
"Kyle, what happened?" Butters asked as he came over. "Is everything ok?"
Kyle continued crying even more. He had never cried so much before.
"Kyle?"
"It's...St...Stan." He pointed to the nine year who lay on the ground, dead.
Butters looked over with shock, and walked over to him. "Is...is he ok?"
Kyle sniffed. "No."
Butters turned around. "What do you mean no?"
"I...I mean...somebody killed him." He just couldn't tell anyone it was him who had killed his best friend. But really, it wasn't his fault. It was Bug Feet's fault. So he was partly telling the truth.
Butters gasped, and started crying. "Oh no!" He ran over to Kyle and gave him a hug, as he cried all over him. Kyle continued crying, too. But then he felt this wasn't gonna help.
Kyle finally pushed him off. "What happened?" Butters asked. "Who killed him? And how did it happen?"
Kyle really didn't know how to explain it. How could he tell Butters that it was all his imagination, yet real? "I just can't tell you! I want Stan back! Why Stan, why!" He ran over to his dead best friend, and started hugging him.
"Gee, this must be harder for you then it is for me."
"He's my best friend. I can't believe it."
"You sound an awful like Stan himself."
The Jew continued crying, as Butters curiously looked down at the sword. "How did this get here?" He picked it up.
Kyle stopped his sobbing, and looked back at Butters. "Uh..."
Butters then gasped as he saw the blood on the end of the sword. He looked back at Kyle, then the sword again. Then he finally looked at Stan, and noticed his wound.
Kyle then knew that Butters caught him red handed.
"Kyle..." he dropped the sword, and started stepping back.
"Butters, it's not..."
"You...why..." He ran off.
"Butters!"
Butters kept running and running, when he finally ran into Cartman. "Butters, what is wrong with you?!" he asked the kid, who started crying. "Butters, what's wrong?"
"It's...It's Stan! And Kyle!"
Cartman gasped. "What about them?"
"Stan's dead!"
"What?!"
"It's true! And Kyle...He's the one who killed him!"
"Kyle killed Stan! You're lying!"
"No, it's true! He stabbed him in the gut."
"Why would he do that?!"
"I don't know!" He started sobbing on Cartman, who just stood there, shocked.
"It's...it's ok, Butters." He hugged the blond-haired boy.
"No, it's not ok! Kyle's a murderer!"
"Oh no."
"What?" He curiously looked up at his fat friend.
"If he's a murderer, and he killed Stan...then maybe...he just might kill one of us!"
Butters pulled himself away from Cartman. "No! He can't kill us! What are we suppose to do?!"
"I'll tell you what we're suppose to do. We have to kill him ourselves."
Butters was shocked. "Wh...what?"
"Butters, it's the only way."
"What? We can't do that! H..he's our friend!"
"Butters, if he becomes a murderer, and decides to kill us, he is NOT our friend."
"Well...well I guess so. But...it just doesn't seem right. I don't want to become like him by murdering him."
"Butters, it's for a good purpose."
"Oh...ok."
"Good. Come with me." He grabbed Butters' hand, and ran off.
Kyle was dragging Stan to the church. There was only one way to save his friend, even if it didn't work. He kept dragging and dragging him.
"Hello, my child," Jesus said. "What seems to be going on?"
Kyle dropped his best friend in front of Him. "Stan has died. Can you heal him?"
"How did he die, Kyle?"
He didn't say anything, and Jesus knew that he did something wrong. "Don't like, Kyle."
"I...I killed him. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I thought it was all pretend. I wasn't thinking! I listened to a stranger! I shouldn't have! I'm sorry!" He started crying. "But please, heal him. If you heal him, you can punish me. Punish me all you want."
"Now, now, Kyle. Everyone makes mistakes."
"What?" he looked up at Him curiously.
"I said everyone makes mistakes. You made a mistake. And plus, you didn't mean to. But even if you did, I would forgive you."
"You would?"
"Of course."
Kyle stopped his crying, and smiled.
"I will heal your best friend."
"Thank you so much."
Jesus put his hands over Stan. "Heal, Stan, my child, heal."
There was silence, and Kyle gasped when he saw that Stan wasn't pale anymore. His wound was gone, and he started breathing. "Stan!" He leaned down to him. "Stan?"
Stan opened his eyes. "K..Kyle?"
"Oh Stan, you're alright!" He hugged his best friend.
"Kyle, how did I come back to life?"
"Jesus did." He looked back. "Jesus?"
"He's gone."
"He did heal you, though. Stan, I am so sorry. I didn't..."
"It's ok, Kyle. You're my best friend. And I'm sorry."
