A/N: MY COMPUTER IS WORKING AGAIN!!!
Here's a quick overview from the last six months of my life—computer shorts out. Cannot find spare parts. No one helps buy spare parts. Parents continue to be stingy. Computer tower is brought downstairs. Stays there for three months. Brought up stairs. Stays there for a few weeks. Secretly bought installation CD. Takes three days to fix and work. Last two weeks have been editing and churning out new chapters and ficcies. Tries to install Internet connect. Does not work. SteelAgainstIvory proudly declares, "FUCK THIS."
Am now updating Chapter Thirteen for Reap and Sow. The readers deserve it. Without further ado, here is my response to the loyal reviewers—if I sound kind weird, please forgive me. I've had a rough couple of months.
loozje: Oh man… I suck… I feel so bad when I read your review. My computer broke down a week after you sent me your comment. I'M SORRY I TOOK SO LONG!
Bethany C. Mackenzie: Actually, yeah, I did make her a little bit of a ho. LOL. I love you soooooooooo much right now. It's wonderful to know you love the story… I HOPE YOU STILL DO!
Hot Monkey Brain: Seriously. Get together with thequillofdestiny and have a baby. The combined name would be SWEET. You have NO idea how much I missed youuuuuuuu!
Tikal Tyrant: After reading your comment, my self-confidence plummeted to the depths of hell. Man, I suck so hard right now…
thequillofdestiny: Please read Hot Monkey Brain's reply. Same applies for you… except you can't really have your own baby………. But, enough of me making a bigger ass of myself! Oh, I wish I could chat with you for hours! Like, just, I MISSED THIS SOOOOOOOOO MUCH!!!
Shady-chan: Why thank you… um, I finally updated now?????
Mizuki-no-neko: Lol! Why are just too cute. I hope you enjoy the rest of the series. Man, I've FINALLY got my computer back to normal!
CupcakeFairy: -bursts into hysterical tears- OHMEHGWAAAAAAAAAD! I AM SO SORRY!!! I MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSED EVERYTHING SO HAAAAARD!!!!!!!!! Anyways… uh, I am back, if you still wanna read that is???
Warning: Gay stuff. Lots of it. And random bits of … supernatural.
Disclaimer: Me love South Park long time! Me no own though… me sigh.
Summary: Things happen so fast, so pay attention to things including: Pink songs, Kenny's intelligence, Style, Divine intervention, Cartman actually working, a cucumber, and Biblical quotes. I think they might be important. Honestly though, it's the wackest chapter yet!
Remember:
"Blah" – Speech
Blah –Thoughts
Blah – Self Explanatory
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
CHAPTER THIRTEEN— So What If This Funhouse Is Cracking?
Once upon a time in a faraway land, or so we have all been told, there lived a brave knight. In his shiny armor made of gold, he crossed deserts and mountains, fields and tundra, braving the elements—all to save his beautiful maiden who is held captive by an evil dragon. The knight will come, unsheathe his sword and raise his shield, fending off hellish flames from a snarling reptilian mouth, and eventually slay the beast. Then he climbs the steps of a worn and crumbling castle, finding the maiden sleeping in peace. Talking off his weighty helm, Prince Charming's face appears, and he'll bend down, place a kiss on the Princess's lips. She will awake. They will marry. Happily ever after…
…
Until you read the story again.
Then the bastard has to travel all the way back, fight off the monster, wake that ho, and get hitched to the burdensome bitch all over again. And again. And a-frickin'-gain.
Unfortunately, that crap doesn't work for ME!
Right now, I am stuck running around, grabbing fluttering papers from a torn encyclopedia, hysterically muttering under my breath. The only thing I can feel of my uncovered fingers is slush and paper cuts. How come I don't have some stupid easy task like riding a fucking horse?!
"Goddamit! Butters must have found something fucking important—why else would Lil—" I am interrupted in the frantic backyard search as I hear a key unlock heavily from inside the home.
Oh crapola… his parents are back!
I dash in through the swinging screen door of the back and manage to snatch up the mutilated book (thanks to my panicked flight for Butters when I originally found his notes littered in it). The door is starting its squeaky and much too sudden journey toward the wall, and I make a quick dive behind it.
I smash chest-first into the tangerine colored plaster. Breath is lost from my lungs so I don't have to worry about heavy, scared breathing giving me away to the two deadbeats strutting in the door. In fact, I'm a bit dizzy…
As soon as I see Butters' mom slink in, I spin about the door and outside in the nipping air. Mid-day gloom hung overhead appropriately and what was left of the heat of that sweet house disappear from my bones. The front door ominously slammed, jolting me down the porch steps in a hurry.
I ran the entire way back to Kyle's, clutching the shredded excuse of a book to my front in desperate hope.
…
"A fortune teller that says maybe you won't go to hell…" Cartman is mouthing the words to a Pink's strangely soothing new song blaring from the basement of the Jew's home. I blink, standing there like a complete moron as Kyle is punching an excess of keys on his laptop, running a frustrated hand through his unruly fro of fire.
"Oh no no no no no NO!"
"W-What's going on?" I ask over tenor guitar strings echoing around the cluttered excuse of an HQ. Kyle's head whiplashes upwards, jade eyes sparkling with unshed tears.
"My computer crashed… I lost all my information. All the cases. Everything. Gone! Hard drive went up in smoke!" through his gritted teeth he makes a strangled noise as he slams his hands on his desk. Cartman merely turns up the stereo stashed in a web-covered corner some more.
"I'm not scared at all… of the cracks in the crystal ball," he mumbles low. Eric has always been lucky enough to have a perfect baritone and mastery for pop songs. All I got on me is opera.
Huh. Weird thought. Isn't opera higher on the scale of singing…? Eh, never mind.
I jump suddenly as another song blasts on and Kyle shouts out, veins clearly protruding on his forehead. The fatass does the opposite and spins the volume dial up to the point where you can feel the bass smacking into your body. "Goddamit Cartman!" is the what rips out of him in such a fury, his computer clatters on the desk with the sweep of his arms.
"Get over it! It's keeping you from bawling!"
"Fuck you! My laptop just died!"
"Because you have been using it like an actual computer, dumbass! They aren't made for heavy duty work!"
"I fixed it with—"
"People design parts to break after a certain number of years! It's a way to make more money!"
"Gah! You're such a fucking cynic!"
I stop paying much attention to their argument, instead feeling an odd discomfort with the pop star's lyrics drumming across the room… This use to be a funhouse! But now it's full of evil clowns! It's time to start the count down! I'm gonna burn it down, down, down! I'm gonna burn it down!
I shudder, dropping the encyclopedia and it's pages on the now clean mahogany desk. My feet crunch on the random technological parts rolling along the floor. My eyes are focused on Stan, in his coma, twitching just slightly. What could cause that, I wonder, besides some deadly disease?
I pause in front of the cot.
The raven's eyes lids are fluttering in REM sleep in sync with the tempo of this particular song… The other one was just fine… maybe the sound is too much? But if that's true… wouldn't Cartman and Kyle's constant arguing do the same for him?
Or perhaps… it's the actual music. His dead mind is responding to it!
Could that mean we have a shot of waking him up now?!
I gasp and look back at the two arguing, faces red and pointing fingers.
"Hey…" I call out. My voice is lost amidst the chaos. Something inside of me growls. "HEY!" My voice—tenor cords, lucky me—broke the tension. Even the music seemed to split. My tattoo hand points over the shaking body of our friend. Kyle's eyes widen. Cartman stares, the music dying softly. "I think Stan is finally responsive."
"What…? No, no!" the redhead denies, sprinting over and grabbing the screens, reading them astonished, "But—But how, Kenny?!"
"Don't ask me how but I have an idea… turn up the damn music and push play!"
Cartman has the prissiest look I've ever seen as he pushes Stan's bed over toward a more lighted area. Kyle's footsteps could be heard thudding from the door of the cellar. His mom has a screechy voice, demanding us not to be too loud. Ha. Right. Us? Loud? Ya gotta be kidding me!
Um, that was sarcastic.
Kyle has returned, a look one his face that says so much to me in so little time; thoughts of hope and broken hearts and fear and love and worry and… pennies of pennies of millions of dollars of all sorts of thoughts. As he hands me a microphone and I ruffle his hair, turning his visage away from mine. I can't look at him without breaking.
I sigh. Kyle has plugged in the microphone to the sound system. Stan's bed is set at the tip of a pentagram we drew in blue chalk. Blue, in hopes of healing. Blue like his eyes… Forgive me for getting distracted, but I'll need all the help I can get to rescue you.
I stand in the middle. Cartman is behind me and to the left. Kyle has placed himself in the right triangle next to the lard-ass. I fingernails scratch the slate colored plastic covering of the mic. I breathe deeply, contracting my lungs and keeping them like that when breathing out. A feeling of apprehension grips me as I have no idea what I am doing. I can't heal others… well, I never tried to at any rate. Never thought that I could.
Butters gave me this idea though.
"Ya know, Tolkien had a creation myth—angels of God sang the universe into existence. Must have been a beautiful dream of his… I would like to think maybe that's how this all works…" I said, ignoring my voice bouncing around the walls and mixing with a sweet song playing a second time.
"Irony, irony is hating love. Hating love!"
I hum along, "For what it's done to me…"
This brilliant idea is to sing. Yes, sing, bitches. I heard once that song lifts the spirit. Let's hope that phrase rings true.
A tension begins, rising up from inside of me and spilling out. Shit. I really have no idea what I am about to do… The song starts with a bump and repetitive beat. The redhead flicks on the sound to maximum volume. A blush spreads across my face.
I am a complete idiot.
Oh well… Fuck it!
Believe or suffer, I've learned.
Before I realized, I am spitting out the lyrics and grinning, body tapping and swaying in time. An invisible energy is swimming around us. I can feel the floor pulsate pleasingly. Blue chalk flashing behind my lids, bright and electric.
I can't even hear the singer in the background anymore. My eyes are closed, but I can feel the excitement in the air. Its taunt and Stan's body is stressed, seemingly moving along with me. A chorus throws me over the proverbial edge and I lose it. All of me is pouring out, my soul escaping lyrically. I can feel a laugh inside of me bubbling out.
Something is drawing never. The end—or the beginning. Either way. It feels like I've missed this. A part of me… is overjoyed. Ecstatic. Thrilled!
My eyes snap open and I am counting it down…
"9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1… Fun!"
A bright light has enslaved the entire room. I don't even notice I am floating, my hair trailing like golden silk in the ocean. Clothes snapping against me like in a whirlwind. I can feel it. Steady and thrumming with me. Stan's spirit, I mean.
Somehow I see it inside him, blocked by dripping chains—struggling for help. His eyes beckon with me. I nod. My hand snaps out forward. The marking on it is flaring up intensely. Like there is an actual fire licking upwards and out… Fire is cleansing in certain religions.
Ah… I get it…!
"This use to be a funhouse! But now its full of evil clowns! It's time to start the count down! I'm gonna burn it down, down, down!"
Flames erupt—slimy, spiritual chains raising a hellish green, lowering into orange. Stan's spirit jerks upward, grimacing and breaking away. Falling into his body, a shiver travels through him, gray pungent smoke spiraling upwards. Blinding light disappears kindly as I utter my last lines…
I'm gonna burn it down.
I land on the floor in an instant and the sound of a crack rips the area in two. Something like a scratching record occurs and Cartman panics. He dashes over to the stereo while my hand tiredly flops down to my side. I feel heavy and woozy at the same moment. Kyle stumbles past me, casting back a look I don't understand.
Cartman wails pathetically, holding up his beloved Pink CD that is now broken into perfect halves. He shakes it in my face like a mad man and I just step back a bit, letting the cycle of inhaling oxygen and releasing carbon dioxide develop into an even pace, lids falling to half-mast.
"Stan! Stan!" the Hebrew genius is breathing against the face of his friend. Cartman is still yelling at me in curses, but I side step him, cocking my head to the other side in order to watch at the other two occupants in the room. "Hey, c'mon, wake up… wake up…!"
"Kiss him now," I instruct. Kyle gasps, raising his shoulder as he spins back to me. I bob my head as his pale faces flushes worse. Eric has grabbed my shoulder, brows drawn in a vexed way.
"Dude! What are you—?!"
"That's how you wake up the sleeping princess when you save her from the dragon," I answer, voice lower that a murmur. Cartman's expression goes slack as he stares. I throw him a pitying look. His hand drops away and he moves back away, somewhere to a corner and sits down profoundly.
I return to Kyle, who has now focused his eyes solely on Stan's dry lips. His face is a deeper red than even his hair color. With quivering hands, my friend slips his pads across the grazed surface of Stan's face. Kyle exhales, leaning down, letting his eyes shut peacefully. A phrase is mumbled in an old language…
I can hear the cords of something play softly in the background for them… and lips are met in the sweetest music here on earth or above in heaven. Silence.
I am smiling, its small, and it hurts—but it's honest.
Kyle backs up, eyelids fluttering. He waits… face pleading… and a breath, light as you please, brings Stan's chest up, face tilting. A half-sob is released from Kyle as his love graces him with open eyes. Dark and shining, they close and his arm reaches up around the frail neck, pulling down the genius for another taste.
My shoulders slump, and I am staring at the messy cement flooring emptily. I shove my hands in my jean pockets and I leave without a sound. I do not hear words thrown my way from anyone—Kyle's parents, Cartman, the passers by on the streets.
No one…
My feet just keep on moving in the slush. Converse shoes kicking about with no discrimination. I should more than likely get another brand of shoe, I think randomly. These are much too thin for cold weather play.
I have no idea where I am when I finished dilly-dallying until swooshing doors interrupt my mind. Blankly, I comprehend I am at a bookstore. I forgot which one. Probably corporate from the neat racks and sells pitching tables. Big posters and many things not connected to reading are perched on shelves next to the cashiers. Best for impulse buys.
Walking by an indoor coffee shop, I am gazing about idly. Light from the setting sun is streaming in bolts. It falls haphazardly from the glass windows obstructed by blinds and racks and other such items.
Ironically a beam streams in, illuminating the rows for philosophy and religion. I decided, why not? I head for it, lazily searching with my eyes, ignoring the heart stinging inside of me. In stead, I focus on all the objects surrounding me.
There are so many books! So many words… too many… It's hard to grasp… Very hard… English, Spanish, German, Japanese—all with words. Everything—and hitherto not. Right here. In this store. And many others. Everywhere. All over the place!
Ha! Some people think they got it right and publish it. Others are full of questions. Still yet, there are those just wanting to be heard. And then the countless that only wish to speak. I stand in this lonely aisle, gazing 'round and thinking to myself greedily. I never noticed the stretched out hand in my face until a boisterous voice dragged me out.
I blink and look down stupidly. A pudgy young lady is standing there awkwardly. She's short, maybe 5'1 at the most. "'Scuse me," she lilts with an androgynous childlike voice. It reminds me of him as she stares with azure eyes, "But could you please get me that book?"
Her white hand reaches up and points, her leather black jacket lifting a bit to reveal a plain white spaghetti top underneath. "The Harry Potter is Jesus one?" I question, lifting for it. She vehemently shakes her strawberry-blonde head with strange blue highlight at the ends.
"Gah! Screw HP!" she cries out. It makes me laugh and I step back as she rocks on her heels. I notice under her baggy coffee pin-stripe pants she also wears some (incredibly worn and dusty) red converse. "No, the book on symbols in the bible."
I grab it for her and offer it out. She takes the item gingerly, and I see curled under her left arm is the newest Loveless manga. It causes me to smirk. "Are you are yaoi otaku?" I tease. She frowns, blush traveling over her freckled face.
"Don't judge me monkey!" she warns and sets her manga over her big book. I shrug but her curious face makes me pause. I felt like I sorta knew her from somewhere… "How do you know about that anyway?"
"I've read a few," I answer lightly. I won't say they are the only ones I have really read.
"This is the place you come more often?" she asks with all bright smiles and glances about the religion section.
"No… not really. Just stumbled in here today…" I shrug uselessly.
"I see," she delicately said. She pulls down her shirt and swipes at one eye. The resemblance to Butters is startling, and my features twist horribly in my heart's agony, but I push it away from me fast. It still manages to catch her eye. "Are you alright?"
"No," I spilled out without thinking. I don't even know why. "No. I'm not."
"Want a frappiccuno?" she inquired unexpectedly with fervor, almost leaping at me. It caused me to jump. She giggled and held up a tiny card. "Caramel frappiccunos make me feel better all the time. I have just enough for two more ventis!"
"I… uh… sure…?"
It took a bit, (okay, tons of lying) but I basically explained my situation. No clue as to the reason, but I felt so much better. She listened intently and nodded and said a few things appropriately. It helped me more than I can dare say. I sat, chewing on my lip as she slurped up more of her drink (truthfully it was gone, but she kept on at it anyway). Mine was barely touched.
"Now I just… don't understand anything anymore!" I complained and slumped over in the hard plywood chair.
"Hmm…" the strange girl narrowed her almond eyes, obviously debating something.
"What can I do now? I've lost all hope," I continued, moaning into my hands, feeling the air condition waft down my backside. The girl shook her head at me with a quiet frustration.
Finally, as I picked up my beverage the girl spoke.
"I could say many things right now, Kenny. Things on faith, love, determination, on so on and so forth… But I can't because, in the end, I don't think it really matters. Honestly, for a writer, I am no good with words," she laughed easily and placed her empty cup onto the hard table decorating in chessboard style. "All I can say is… so what?"
"So… what?" I parroted dumbly. She stuck out her tongue and nodded.
"So what?" she intoned, "The world is full of all these depending situations. But so what? Do what you have to. What makes you happy." She shrugged and stood suddenly. I blindly moved to her will.
"B-But…!"
"Listen!" she roughly sighed, "If you want your friend back, you have two options. Go find him or wait. Or do neither. Or do both. I dunno! Again! So what? It's up to you."
"I…"
Words weren't coming. Strangely enough… this odd backward logic made sense to me.
"Okay…" I said at last. I sipped up my melted drink. I could feel an impulsive smile on my face.
So what about Lilith? About my hourglass? About God? About Hell? About anything! I don't care for that! I care for Butters. And my main priority is getting him back, safe and sound and in my arms where he belongs!
I have gone to the door and flung it open. I halted abruptly and swung around, searching for that odd young woman but... I blink, as I can't find her. Like… she disappeared! GASP!
Could she have been…?
Then someone taps me on the shoulder.
Shrieking, I rotate on my toes like a ballerina. That's when I see the short little lady pouting at me. "Dude! How the fuck did you do that?! I didn't even see you sneak up!" I point my index digit stupidly at her. She slaps it away without care.
"I dunno. Just happens. I am kinda use to it by now," she almost bragged. I chuckle like an idiot. Then I clasp her hands and squeeze gently, she gives me one back but harder.
"Thanks…" I say it like whispered prayer.
"NP, my friend. No problem… Its what I do." Her response reminds me of a forgiving pastor.
Again I dash off. She waves goodbye the whole time I am running back to my friends…
…
The door to the attic is almost ripped off as I bang through, stumbling down the steps. Cusses at thrown at me from Kyle's mom, I ignore as my feet swing back and kick up my sneakers. I launch myself over the blocky wooden rail, shouting out, "Butters got kidnapped and I need to know why!"
The torn up, rubbery soles smack the ground and I land in a crouch, feeling my legs tingle from the slight jump. Kyle and Stan gasp and their faces shoot up from his cot. Cartman is tinkering around with the broken laptop, but he looks over at me steadily, waiting.
"We have to speak with someone—anyone—who might understand Lilith's motivations," I puff out, raising my spine slowly. Kyle just shrugs and Stan cocks his head to the side, racking his brain. Who would have thought what happened next?
"What about that water demon?"
The three of us turn to that bulky Eric Cartman, pushing around screws on the scratched desk. "What?" he asks a bit heatedly, but genuinely confused. I blink, shaking my head.
"T-That's… actually a really good idea."
…
There was a speedy pit stop—that's what life seems to be for me recently. Pits stops. Go here. Die. Rise over there. Kick ass some place else. Pause for Mickey D's, meet someone, die again. Live real hurriedly before death in another assignment… Sighs.
Well, this pit stop was Jimbo's Warehouse of Marvelous Anti-Evil Supplies! Pick up a weapon or two, stash a few holsters, cock a few riffles, and look hot while doing so (insert flexing here while anime theme music plays).
Cartman sped Stan's poor, abused truck down some deserted traffic streets. Save for a few clunky Honda's honking at us, we made the trip in relative easiness. The hair on the back of my neck was bristling, just waiting for some surprise attack—none pursued. Stan was huffing in the backseat, obviously not use to his own body weight yet.
"I gotcha…" Kyle whispered and hooked his shoulder under the raven's arm. The taller nodded and leaned against his friend, closing his eyes with a sigh… not too long after the fatass swerved the vehicle up on the snow bank of Stark's Pond.
"Everyone out or die," he ordered, jabbing his thumb toward the iced-up water. I laughed in a barking fashion and skee-daddled out of the passenger side as fast as a kid going to a candy store. I was practically skipping past the police tape flapping in the air… Hard to believe two weeks have passed since Pip… I was blinking back salt water, staring faraway.
If I don't know where he died exactly, how can I put flowers down?
"Kenny!" Stan's scratchy voice—a distant memory of sensory flooded my brain—snapped my attention back. I turned and nodded. "The demon's still alive. Hovering somewhere, dunno where though, it's mixing with our emotions."
"Ha! NP, guys, I know a way to get the fugly bastard to pop out," I called over my shoulder, fishing into my pockets.
"NP?" Cartman echoed, glancing at the two huddled together by the edge. Kyle shrugged and Stan shook his head. I stuck out my tongue, ignoring my cotton orange mittens catching on the rough jean fabric as I tugged out a plastic grocery bag. Crying in triumph. It slipped out, swinging wildly as I tried grabbing the bag. Needless to say, it shot out of my reach, rolling around in the fluffy white puffs of snow.
The ice surface shuddered for a moment. Everyone stilled instantly.
Then a cracking could be heard, starting from behind me. My eyes widened. "Hooooo damn…!"
Instantaneously, as soon as I begin sprinting for my life, a figure leaps up from under the hoarfrost, spraying me with chips of splintered ice. Cartman whirls around as I drum roll for the item in the bag and the demon crashes back gracefully down deep into the pond.
"Shit, dude!" Kyle yells as he and Stan scramble back, the empath shrugging up a pistol and spinning the barrel. "What the hell is that thing?!"
"A demon!" I retort cockily. Cartman chuckles darkly, clicking open a small container on his belt. He chose to be armed with an assortment of throwing knives and machetes. Sort of a sick bastard if ya think of the reasons why…
"I meant the fucking thing in the bag!" the genius shrieks as the ground below us wavers. My converse suddenly becomes soaked and I yelp as the ice gives way under my left foot.
I throw myself to the right, rounding my shoulder in order to land safely. I am caught off guard when I feel a steely grip around my cradled torso. Drips of water plink down onto my forehead, where wisps of hair fall across my vision. "Ahh shiiiiit…"
"Cucumber!" a guttural voice, sounding obsessive, declares. "MINE!"
I can feel the restriction around me tauten; not realizing the splashing of artic water is seeping into my jacket at an acerbated rate similar to the creature's breathing. Just when I thought I would have been fish food, a bang! rang out, causing the demon to jerk back—effectively letting me go.
On instinct I take in a deep breath of mountain air—I shouldn't have, because I've been launched into a more solid ground. The force makes my lungs stagger and I see spots of neon colors tango behind my lids.
My name is repeatedly hammered into my ears as Kyle surges forward, Stan left panting, but up-right (ish) on the pond side. Cartman is just gaping in awe the entire time the empathic teen blows on the nuzzle of the gun before putting it back in it's position in it's shoulder holster. Fuck… no wonder he leads us—err, well, most of the time.
"W-Where's the demon?" I question, aware I should be getting up. Kyle glances back. We notice Cartman stalking to the twitching black mass on the floor. The brunet speedily yanks it up and shoves it into the nearest tree. A bulky hand reaches for a pocket—me and Kyle look away, but the wet splat and piercing scream is still heard like a pin dropping in an empty ballroom.
Kyle tugs me up and I hobble over, tossing off my useless jacket. It's wet and freezing and if I don't shed it before exacting info it will only hinder our quest. The shoes though, I'll have to ignore until we are back in the car.
"You're gonna tell us what we want to know about Lilith!" Eric screams, saliva flying in the flat face of the water demon. Taking a good look, it reminds me of the creature from the Black Lagoon. But facial features distinctly more human—Asian almost. The difference is the eyes… huge, pale opal blue framed by the wet, straw colored hair.
"Give up the original mother? NEVER!" the thing screeches. That sadistic bastard would have twisted one of the blades pinning the demon to the pine tree, had I not pushed him aside and waved a cucumber as if a weapon.
"Don't you want your treat?" I tease. Those odd eyes go glassy and gaze longingly at the veggie in a dog-like way.
"Cucumber…? Did you get that idea from—"
"Yup, the kappa," I interrupt Kyle inquiry before it finishes. I point the food directly at the demon. "Now listen bub—"
"I am a female," it hisses suddenly. I choke, face going white. It was just so…so ugly! In the background one could hear Cartman choke on something that could have been a guffaw, Stan merely sways in his stance, leaving Kyle to just tilt his head to the side.
"Really?" the techie asks.
"O-Okay then!" I say, not willing to let that game continue, "Listen up bitchzilla! I don't care about loyalty among demons, humans, angels—whatever! I will give you this damn snack if you just tell me where Lilith resides!"
"B-But… But!" it twitches. I cock an eyebrow. The cucumber is dangling in my garish fingernails. With a snarl the demon lurches forward. "Her house sinks down to death, and her course leads to the shades. All who go to her cannot return and find again the paths of life!"
Cartman scoffs, "It's from Proverbs! 2:18-19."
"What's it mean?" I stare, amazed.
"Haven't a clue… what about you, Genius Jew?" the asshole pointedly nods to said genius.
We look at Kyle, he stammers for a second, "O-Oh, it's a warning. Scholars make connections to Lilith from it… Just telling you not to get involved."
"Wonderful," I snort, glaring back at the demon who starts fidgeting to the food, "You did your bit! Now give us exact directions!" It whimpers, protesting, but when I make to withdraw the cucumber, it starts cussing.
"FINE! FINE!"
"Now tell us where!" I demand. Growling the head lifts, almost as if salvaging pride.
"Lilith fled long ago, awaiting entrance to Sheol… She resides in what is left of the tower of Babel, south in what you humans perceive ancient Israel, Babylon! However…" the creature's tongue, forked and dripping with brackish blood, has flicked out toward me, "Human eyes cannot see it… I can remedy this situation."
"My eyes are mine for the keeping," I respond, throwing the vegetable at her face. Scowling, the demon tries reaching for the food, which has bounced to the ground. It's still pinned to the tree tight. I turn to my friends and nod. "Come on, back to the Holy Land…"
"W-Wait! Y-You can't leave me! You don't even know the way!" the thing's objections are hurled into us, bounding past me like the winds.
"Doesn't matter! I'll find my own way!" I shut my eyes and lean my neck back, talking toward the heavens. I can feel the crunching steps of my friends close in about me as we steadily make our way back to that navy Toyota.
"YOU'RE HUMAN!"
"I'm starting to think opposite…" I murmur. All I hear back is an enraged shriek.
TBC…
A/N: I think this is the perfect place to end for some reason… Review???
Titles for this chapter could have been,
"Of Nothing, Everything, and Something."
"The Chapter that Moves Like A Raptor"
"Inalienable Rights Overrule"
"Back In Orange"