Author's Note: A little reference to ShadowMajin's Dragon Quest Z was inserted in here more out of the fact that I couldn't resist doing it. Outside of SM, anyone care to guess what it is? Those who figure it out get a chapter dedication next chapter and those with a submitted OC will have their character get at least a spoken sentence.
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.
Warning: language
Kyle Takes Care of Business
Damn he had needed that. The clarity that had returned to him, the reminder of what had brought him to this point, it had served to undo whatever the hell that pale ass bastard had done to him. If he could get that new kid cornered, he was going to beat the absolute shit out of him then show him just what the hell happens when you cross Rod Woods.
Feeling refreshed, Rod had come to school that day with sharp eyes, picking out new prey in which to feast on. He easily spotted those he had already taken and done. A couple piqued his interest but he decided to save them for another time. No, he was on the prowl and he wanted something that would challenge him now, or someone in this case.
As if someone up above was intervening, Rod eyed a couple prospects who happened to be passing one another in the hallway before him. Ah, now he remembered; two prizes he had set his sights on long ago but had yet to snatch up.
Wendy Testaburger and Charlie White. Two vixens who had knowingly or unknowingly stayed beyond reach. Until now. Now he was really going to make an effort. No more mister nice guy. He had played their games but now it was time to change it up and make them play his.
First, he needed information. While he could be impulsive, he knew that there were times you needed to enter a fight with some knowledge on your side. Case in point, Wendy he knew was in a committed relationship with that jerk-off Stan Marsh. Spending a couple months in South Park had given him the chance to find out that beneath that asshole surface, Marsh was just a fucking, tree-hugging pussy. Dumb also. Words would be his greatest weapon to getting around him.
Charlie would be trickier. He had a track record with her, one in which he had been turned down, threatened, and abused. And that was not including that psycho shrimp that followed her around in some pathetic attempt at stalking. Sure there were those rumors about him but Rod rarely put any stock in rumors that were that extreme. Nonetheless, to get Charlie would require more force than words. Words were useless with her which suited him just fine.
It was a bitch using words to get your way into someone's pants. You had to use the right ones or else you were the one screwed and not in the good way either. Sometimes a little smack on the cheek or a choke hold could get you further than any words could.
From what he could see, the two girls that were the objects of his lust seemed different. Wendy looked sad about something even as she was dragged by that friend of hers, Roxi he thought. That was different; she usually looked calm and ready to take on the world, a small smile on her face a form of her determination.
Charlie, meanwhile, looked like she was going through that time of the month. All you guys out there know what he meant. He narrowed his eyes when he saw that asshole new kid walking after her though he looked pissed enough to reenact High School Slaughterfest in 3D. Oh if only he could get him alone in an alley… Anyway, Charlie looked pissed off but that had never stopped Rod before.
As a precaution, he waited a couple minutes when Charlie passed out of sight, searching for her other shadow…who did not show up as Rod expected him to. Strange. Was he out sick? If so, that was at least one defense he didn't have to deal with in getting to her. Best to keep an eye out; who knew if that psycho knew he was watching and was in turn watching him?
He turned back to Wendy, thoughts running through his head. She really did look like she needed to talk with someone. He smirked, his eyes twinkling; that someone would have to be him. He would find out her insecurity and then press it.
With a comfortable swagger, he headed off to where he had seen Wendy go, catching up with her when he saw that Roxi chick talking excitedly with that other chick Wendy had introduced him to back in August. Mary, was it? He didn't think that was it but it sounded close enough to him.
Seeing that Roxi did not have a hand on any part of Wendy, like an arm or a shoulder, he swooped in unnoticed, his hands gripping the girl gently by her shoulders and pulling her along with him. He said," Yoink!" out loud as he did so, causing Roxi to stop saying whatever stupid thing she was talking about and to look at the spot where Wendy had once been.
"Hey…" she said as she realized that her friend had been swiped. "Hey! Give her back you…where'd they go?"
Rod was smirking as he steered Wendy down another hallway, releasing her and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Wendy was blinking up at him, a bit slow on what just happened. It didn't take her long, maybe a few seconds, but she figured out what was going on and she gave him a thankful smile.
"Thanks," she said. "It was starting to get a little bit unbearable back there."
"Sure thing," he said, planning on how to speak to her next.
"I love Roxi but she can be a bit…too enthusiastic when it comes to something that she thinks is important," Wendy said. "Once she gets on a roll, she's kinda hard to handle, you know?"
"I'll take your word for that," he said as he looked straight ahead. "Something tells me that wasn't the only thing going on. I saw you walk by earlier and you looked…I don't know, sad?" Even the pause was calculated, all in an attempt to make himself sincere. Boy did she eat it up, like he knew she would.
"I've been under the weather," she said, looking away from him. "I…I'm beginning to think you may have been right. You know, what you said to me the last time we talked."
Of course he remembered. "Your boyfriend's still cheating? Find out who?"
"I don't know if he's cheating and normally I wouldn't care if I saw him chatting with some other girl," Wendy admitted, "but I've seen him throw up on the same girl three times already."
Okay, now he was lost. "What does that have to do with anything?" he asked.
"It's how he shows he likes someone," Wendy explained, not really paying attention to what she was saying. Rod had to suppress another smirk, this time one that was more predatory.
Hmm, so there was another girl that Marsh was interested in. Looks like he would have to follow the ass around until he threw up on that girl again then make a move on her. Oh, he had Marsh's number now. Wendy really should be watching what she was saying. It might give the wrong person an idea or two.
"So he's found someone else that he likes," he said. "Does he…er, throw up on you?"
"Not anymore!" Wendy grumbled, becoming irritated. He could tell that it wasn't him that she was irritated with but Stan. Yes, fan those angry flames. That was going to be the ticket here.
"So then he's moved on," he stated, leaving no room for anything else. "He's looking for a new girl, probably had gone through a few until he found this one, what's her name again?"
"Kyra," Wendy grounded out. "Kyra McCloud."
Looks like he didn't have to go looking for the girl anymore. He had her name; it was only a matter of time until he had her.
"Then he must really like this one," he said, pretending not to notice how angry Wendy was starting to become. "You've seen him throw up on her at least three times. Something tells me there might be more. Like maybe when they're alone and no one else is around. At his house maybe. In his car. The bathroom if he can sneak her into one."
With each suggestion, Wendy's face reddened. Oh she was getting pissed. Just a little bit more to push her over the edge.
"I don't know how long this has been going on but if it has been going on for a while, they might have gone…" he trailed off here then said in a hushed whisper that only Wendy could hear, "…all the way…"
There were growls but she wasn't quite there. Maybe it was time to cool her off a bit before pushing her all the way off the cliff. Make this worse. That way, that pussy jock was going to squirm.
"Usually when this thing happens, the girl doesn't break up," he said. "Instead, she gets even and the way that they usually do it is by sleeping with someone else."
The redness of Wendy's face receded but this was part of the plan.
"What? Cheat! I couldn't!" Wendy protested. "Just because Stan is…no, that's out of the question! I won't go to his level!"
"So then what else can you do?" Rod asked. "Breaking up isn't really going to send a message, you know."
"Rod, shut the fuck up," Wendy hissed at him. Uh oh, her anger was turning towards him now. Gotta be delicate here.
"You know what, think about it," he said to her. "You know where I live, right? Come by if you want to talk. Just talk. I think we can really come up with something that will show this fucker not to mess with you."
"Yeah. That sounds good," Wendy began to seethe, her anger turning back to where Rod wanted it. Oh yeah, he was good.
"You know how to find me," he said, patting her shoulder. With that, he left her to wallow in her fury that would more than likely bring her to him. In fact, he was counting on it.
Well, one down, now to figure out how to get Charlie. With that Damien kid shadowing her in place of the shrimp, he was going to have to figure out how to get her to ditch him or vice versa.
As he turned into another hallway, wandering aimlessly until the first warning bell rang, he was joined by Brianna. Or at least that's how he would tell you. The reality was that she was standing by her locker with that lost expression on her face, the same she had on after she left yesterday. He had wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her along as he strolled around the school. She was very passive, not really his type but on occasion it was nice to have someone do what you wanted without question.
"Thank you, Brianna," he said, facing straight ahead like he was seeing into the future instead of a bland hallway. "You have no idea how much you helped me last night."
Brianna said nothing in answer. It concerned him a bit but only for a bit. Eh, if she wasn't talking, that was her problem, not his. He had no idea what was going through her head but she was a bookworm; if anyone could figure out what was going inside her own head it, was her.
Such easy answers to complicated questions.
Giving her a playful shake, he added, "It's good to know that you're there for me. I don't know what I'd be doing if you hadn't helped. Glad to know you're here."
Again, Brianna didn't say anything and again Rod didn't care.
This was a rare moment.
Kyle wondered what the odds were that he had found Gary without that girl he was always seen with. Not that there was anything wrong with that but it was almost like the two were attached at the hip. There were some rumors that they were seeing one another but from what the Jew could tell, there was nothing.
They were just friends. Really, really good friends. Like he was with Stan. Yeah. Stan.
Yet here he was with someone who definitely wasn't Stan and was the furthest thing from him. However, Gary also seemed to be the kind of person that Kyle would have risked his friendship with Stan if you looked back at earlier events.
That all brought him to this point in time. He was lost. Metaphorically speaking, he was lost and he had no idea what he should be doing. By now he would have unloaded on Gary but he was holding back for the sole reason that Gary looked exhausted. The guy was still smiling but he looked like he was about to keel over.
Thinking back, Kyle remembered how Gary seemed to be holding up everyone, lending a shoulder to any soul in need and asking nothing for himself. It made Kyle a bit self-conscious to be in the presence of someone so self-sacrificing, especially when his own track record wasn't as clear. No, it was murky, murky like swamp water or Stark's Pond in the middle of spring.
Yet here he was with the intention of asking for more from Gary…and he knew that Gary would continue to give.
It made him feel so guilty that he couldn't give anything back.
"You look tense Kyle," Gary said, breaking the silence between the two. "Something on your mind?"
"A lot," Kyle confessed. "But right now it doesn't seem very important anymore."
"Why's that?" Gary asked curiously.
"You look worn to the bone," the redhead told him. "I can't help but feel like I'm doing nothing but taking and taking and here you are giving and giving. I'd like to give something back for all you've done for me but I don't know how I could even begin to repay you."
"You don't have to repay me," Gary said. "I never asked for you to do so. When I started talking with you, I did it with no intention of getting anything out of it, you know?"
"That doesn't do anything to make me feel better," Kyle sighed as he looked away from the blond. "I…I broke up with Damien, recently."
"Oh…I'm sorry to hear that," Gary said consolingly. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Do you want me to?" Kyle replied, looking at the Mormon from the corner of his eye.
That soft smile, the same that could convince even the stoic Craig Tucker into spilling his guts, was his reply. "I'm grateful that you're concerned about me but really, I can handle this," Gary said. "My friend, Kyra, finally told the guy she loves how she feels about him. You don't know how much I had to nag her to get her to that point. She's happy now and that makes me happy."
"But don't you ever want to get something back?" Kyle asked.
"I admit, there are times I do," Gary admitted. "I'm like you Kyle, I'm only human. We all can't be paragons of virtue twenty-four/seven. But I'm going to do the best I can and that's all God can ever ask of me."
"Good to know that even you have your faults," Kyle said wryly.
"I never claimed to not have any," Gary retorted good-naturedly. "Now, back on topic, what happened?"
"If you're sure…" Kyle hazarded.
"Of course I'm sure," Gary said. "If you're so concerned about me, tell you what. Get me an ice cream after school and we can call it even once you tell me your story. Okay?"
"You could ask for anything you want and what you ask for is ice cream?" Kyle asked dryly.
"It's my guilty pleasure," Gary shrugged, giving the Jew a lop-sided smile. "So…?" he prompted.
"Damien…he wanted too much from me," Kyle sighed, the dam breaking. He would not be able to hold back the flood now… "He…he wanted me to stop talking with you. I said no. He told me either I stop or I give up Stan as my best friend."
"You didn't…" Gary whispered, eyes widening. "But…why would you give up your friendship with Stan? You've been friends for years!"
"I didn't give up Stan, Gary," Kyle said quietly.
The blond looked at him, confused. "But you're speaking with me… Wait, is this where…?"
"I told Damien if he made me choose, then I wouldn't be the only one losing someone," Kyle said with a grim smile. "I turned the tables on him and he was the one in the hot seat."
"What did he choose? From his choices?" Gary asked. Even though he didn't know what they were, the blond had assumed that Damien had been given a choice himself.
"If he made me pick, I would break up with him," Kyle told him.
"If you didn't pick…" Gary said, catching on to what the other choice was, "…then why did you still…? Isn't that kinda breaking your deal, whatever it was?"
"I didn't break it because the other choice that Damien had was a temporary separation," Kyle said. "If he made me choose, it would have been permanent, no matter what claims he had on me."
"I see, you twisted it so that Damien had a lose-lose deal," Gary realized.
"Shows him not to underestimate me," Kyle said. "Right now, that's not my problem. The thing is, even though Damien kidnapped me, held me against me will until Stockholm Syndrome happened, interfered with my social life, and was possessive to the extreme…I don't think that I can leave things like this." He raised a hand to cover his mouth and he stared ahead contemplatively.
"Sounds like an unhealthy relationship," Gary commented. "Something's holding you back, like you said. What is it?"
"I think I still like him," Kyle mumbled, his hand muffling his voice. "It scares me. Logically, I should kick him to the curb and go about my way but I don't want to. It's so fucked up no matter how much I try to rationalize it. I want to leave him but I don't want to let him go."
"Emotions aren't subject to logic or reason," Gary told him gently, rubbing Kyle's back soothingly. "What you need to do is get some closure if you really want to leave him. If you don't, and I won't tell you what you should do, then try and see if you can't work out what is the root problem. On some level, you trust him. Not once did you tell me he hurt you, physically at least. I have my own reservations but I'll keep those to myself."
"I'd like to hear them," Kyle grumbled, looking at the Mormon hopefully.
"No can do," Gary laughed. "If you want to work something out, then do so. If not, find someone else if it helps."
"You can do it all, can't you?" Kyle smiled wearily. "Sports, friendship, relationship advice. Is there nothing you cannot do?"
"Drink coffee," Gary shrugged. "Against my religion."
"Among other things," Kyle teased. "Guess I'll try to track Damien down, I suppose. Best to try and get this over with quickly."
"Try not to overanalyze!" Gary called after him. "You might miss something important!"
Charlie knew this feeling. It was the kind you got when someone was watching you too closely yet you didn't know who. Usually, Charlie knew who the pair of eyes that kept vigil on her were but with the sudden absence of that maniac, she was now clueless as the next person.
Or maybe not. Few people ever watched her like she was slide under a microscope. Bain was number one but that was because he was Bain and a jerk with homicidal tendencies. Number two was typically Christophe but he wasn't in her class right now so he was immediately off the list. Number three was a new addition, Damien, but from the way he was scowling, there was no way it was him.
By process of elimination, she would have to pick number four and guess who that was. It took only a glance to confirm it but that was all she needed to do to figure out it was that asshole Rod. Why he was paying so much attention to her now during one of Gunn's boring ass lectures was anyone's guess but she didn't like it.
There was something different in Rod's eyes, something that made her spine tingle a bit with the memory of her long dead brother. Now that she thought about it, Jack had the same look in his eye that Rod had currently. To any deity out there that might be listening, please don't let her have another Jack on her hands. One was more than enough and she didn't feel like living paranoid again.
It was this phantom paranoia that she was experiencing that was keeping her drooping eyelids from closing and sending her to dreamland. She did not want to go through this again so if anybody out there was listening, stop this shit before it went too far.
Naturally, someone out there enjoyed seeing her suffer and so Rod's gaze continued to haunt her. Damn it, why was time moving so slow now of all days? She swore, she had seen the second hand of the classroom clock tick backwards, that was how slow this class was dragging on.
She peeked another glance and still saw that Rod was still staring at her. How he had not been called out by Gunn, she did not know—wait, was he fucking licking his lips? It was like he was planning on eating her or something.
Cannibalism was where she drew the line. No one was taking a bite out of her if she had anything to say about it!
Glancing back up at the clock, she slightly pouted at the confirmation that time was indeed moving slower than usual. She shot another glance at Gunn…who was at the board with a marker pressed up against it, ready to write something, and yet was snoring quite loudly. Wow, he was so boring that he put himself to sleep while still standing up.
The quiet that still enveloped the classroom was easily explained away by the fact that no one wanted to risk waking Gunn up.
Or at least anyone sane didn't want to wake Gunn up. Beside her, she heard the sudden telltale sign of someone inflating a balloon. She could tell that whoever was doing it was taking his time as each blow of air was long and lazy.
Looking to her side, she gave Damien an incredulous stare while the Antichrist continued to fill his black-colored balloon without a care in the world. Other people were starting to look over at him, wondering what the hell was going on or at least what the hell Damien thought he was doing. Once at sufficient size, Damien pulled the balloon away from his lips, flashing Charlie a mischievous grin as he pressed one of his fingernails against the balloon.
Fingernails, which she would remind you, that were more like claws and just as sharp.
"Kennedy was a fraud!" Gunn blurted out as the loud explosion of air exiting the popped balloon woke him up. "I—wait, eh, what just happened?"
There were a repressed wave of groans and Charlie glared subtly as Damien who was smirking at the distress of the other students. Damn it, he was taking this "being the Antichrist" business too far.
"Where was I?" Gunn grumbled as he peered blearily at the dry erase board that he was still standing at. "Who the hell is Milton? I don't remember…oh." The old man shot a glare at the rest of the class. "You did not just hear me say that."
Nope, everyone was deaf was the consensus.
"I thought so," Gunn growled. "Now, someone tell me where I left off. I've…gotten off track."
Thankfully, as if heaven sent, the bell rang, ending the old man's reign of terror if only for this group of teenagers. While Gunn glared balefully at the intercom, the students were packing up and getting out of there, Charlie among them.
She didn't have to look behind her to know that Damien was following her because what else could he do? He was bound to her, stuck in such a way he couldn't escape. She wasn't completely fine with it because that meant he was always following her around which reminded her about what occurred the last time she had someone doing that.
It wasn't a pleasurable experience then and it wasn't one now. She felt restricted and if there was something she hated, it was being restricted. She liked her freedom, a bit more than most people maybe, but to undermine tha—
"Charlie, may I speak with Damien?" Kyle asked, interrupting her train of thought. She was barely out of the classroom and there the Jew was, waiting for them. She felt rather than saw Damien stiffen behind her but why he did that, she had an idea or two.
Shrugging, she said, "Sure." Looking over at Damien whose eyes were trained solely on Kyle's, she said, "Come to next period when you're done."
"Of course," Damien said mindlessly. Seemed like his attention was more on Kyle than it was on her but she didn't really care. At least now she could get about five minutes of alone time or maybe she could check on what Christophe was up to. It'd been a while since she had last spoken with him.
As she left the two to do whatever it is they were going to do, she mentally added to check up on Rhiannon while she was at it. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't seen her for a couple days. Since Bain was M.I.A., she was sure that nothing of that nature had happened with the rainbow-colored girl.
Now where to start before the bell rung…
She suddenly felt herself being jerked to a side and right into a janitor's closet, the door slamming shut with an ominous thud. She could feel the hands on her arms maneuver to her wrists but at that point she was beginning to struggle.
She had an idea as to who it was and as soon as she knocked his block off, she was going to let the prick have it.
"Stop struggling, it's getting annoying."
Okay, that threw out the previous idea she had. Looks like it was someone else and that someone was that asshole Rod. How had she not seen this one coming?
She was shoved into a shelf and she grimaced as she felt something pressing against her spine in a not-good way. Rod, meanwhile, was pressing his body against hers, pinning her back into the uneven shelves behind her.
"You're a hard one to get a hold of," Rod said, his eyes shining from the dim lighting of the closet. "You always have a freak somewhere close to you; makes it hard to get you alone."
"I think there's a reason for that," she growled, glaring at the bastard. She brought her knee up and when she felt Rod's grip slacken, tore a hand away and used it to slug him right in the middle of his pretty boy face. Rod fell back into the shelves on the other side of the closet, cleaning supplies falling off and landing on him, some of the chemicals bursting out of their containers as they reached the floor.
"Goddamn it, why do you people always go for the nads?" Rod hissed as he clutched himself.
"Because it works," Charlie spat at him. "What do you want, dick?"
"Just you," Rod hummed, having the gall to look her up and down with a pained eye. "How's about a quickie?"
"You are by far the most disgusting person I have ever met," she snarled, kicking a foot into his chin, sending him back onto his ass. "I've lived around the world and I have never met anyone as low as you."
"What about those shrimps?" Rod cracked. "What do you fucking see in them, huh?"
"More than I'll ever see in you," Charlie retorted. She made to get out of that closet just so she could as far from Rod as she could.
Rod, however, seemed to be able to recover quickly as he got up and shoved her into the door, her chest against the wooden barrier. Once again, Rod used his body to pin her against this new surface and Charlie was grounding her teeth together, thinking of all the ways to make this bastard pay.
"You really ought to stop fighting," Rod purred into her ear. "I know you like it rough. Just let me do my thing and I'll make it enjoyable for you. How about that?"
Her answer was to slam her head backwards in a reverse headbutt and this time she felt something give way. Rod pulled away and was clutching at his nose, blood spilling from it. Ooh, she might have broken it. Served him right, the asshole.
"Still playing hard to get?" Rod growled nasally at her. "This is becoming annoying you—"
She didn't let him go further. She was tired of hearing his fucking voice and so she shut him up with the one thing she was good at. Violence. A well placed kick in his chest and he was stumbling back into the back of the janitor's closet, running into mops and buckets and bringing it all down with him as he fell. She sneered at him and shoved the door open, making good of her escape.
Damn it, now she was in an even worse mood. If Gunn hadn't put her in a bad mood already from his poor ass teaching skills, Rod with his perversion had just made it worse. She was going to have to do more than just kick this one around. If Rod was anything like Bain, then he wasn't going to leave her alone until he got what he wanted. She knew what he wanted but she wasn't going to let him have it.
It was mostly because she had principles but she also didn't want Bain to find out and try to kill her. Again.
Christ, why'd she have to get involved with all the fucked up people anyway?
Kyle had led the Antichrist to his locker where he hoped that the presence of something familiar might embolden him for this latest task. The fact that this was Damien who hadn't taken his eyes off him for a second was more than unnerving.
Unnerving because it was kinda creepy but also because it sent chills up his spine. Not the kind of chills that meant he was afraid; more like the kind that came went you felt good.
"This is unprecedented," Damien spoke first, hands inserted firmly into his pockets. "I always thought when a couple broke up, they tried to avoid one another."
"You've been avoiding me?" Kyle asked wryly.
"Not at all," Damien dismissed with a snort. "Why would I? I'm the one who's chasing after you, pet."
Was it a bad thing that Kyle allowed him to call him that and not correct him? Even with his analytical mind, he couldn't puzzle out the answer but this didn't seem to be the time to do that. He would have to let it go for now and try to get what he was trying to do over with.
"Right," he said. "You can guess why I want to talk with you—"
"No, I can't," Damien interrupted, his lips curling into an impish grin. "Please, tell me why."
"Now you're playing dumb," Kyle retorted. "You know what I want to talk about. I want to talk about our break up." Kyle noticed Damien's left eye twitch but he knew that he needed to press on. "By all rights, I should toss you to the curb and try to get on with my life. Everything about our relationship—"
"Unhealthy, right?" Damien interrupted him again. "How so?"
"Hmm, let me give that some thought," Kyle deadpanned. "What do you think? You forced me into it then when we were together you tried to rule every aspect of it. Now that I think about it, you're only a couple steps away from being one of those domestic abusers, you know, wifebeaters, whatever you want to call them. And don't tell me, you're not going to follow the same pattern and become one, right? I know what the pattern is; you're following the same pattern."
"A pattern that would only apply to me if I was human," Damien replied. "You know very well that I'm anything but."
"But you are evil incarnate," the Jew pointed out. "What assurances could you give me that you wouldn't? Do you really think I'm stupid enough to allow myself to be placed in such a situation and not see what's coming?"
"Smart people like you fall for it every day," Damien said. "I know; I've spoken with a lot of them. I've also tortured them but that's just in my job description."
"Damien, I'm never going to give you another chance if you think you can get away with telling me what to do and who to be friends with," Kyle stated, deciding it was time to play hard ball. "Right now, I could say fuck it and walk away and then you'll be shit out of luck."
"You can't though, can you?" Damien asked, giving him a knowing look. There wasn't the same intensity in that look, the same intensity that made it look like he could peer straight into your soul and know everything about you. Yet it unnerved the Jew a bit as Damien reached out with a hand and cupped his cheek. "You're scared, you want to run away from me, don't you pet? I understand more than you know but you know that I can't give you up Kyle. I know that you enjoy it, the feeling of having someone dominate your life, taking care of all your little needs and satisfying your wants. It's how you lived before and you can adapt to it easily whether you're aware of it or not."
"Are you making a reference to my mother?" Kyle demanded though he felt himself lean into the warmth of Damien's hand. Was he that well trained that he couldn't refuse an affectionate gesture from this guy?
"Of course," Damien answered. "I rather appreciate her, actually. I have no one I could call my mother though my father is woman enough to be one. She reminds me sometimes of, well, me."
"What? Controlling, strict, and self-righteous?" Kyle stated blandly.
"Eh, if the hat fits," Damien shrugged.
"I don't want my mother," Kyle said and he tore himself away from Damien's hand, an ache blossoming in his chest after doing that. He suppressed it just enough so that he wouldn't have to deal with it in the next five minutes. "I want someone who will respect me."
"I do," Damien said, taking his hand back and putting it back into his pocket.
Kyle frowned at him but continued. "I want someone who can give me space when I need it."
"I can do that," Damien shrugged.
"Are you going to speak up to any and all points I make?" Kyle demanded.
"Why not?" Damien challenged. "I'm just proving that I can be what you say you want."
"You mean you're going to change yourself for me?" Kyle asked skeptically.
"I didn't say that, I said that I can be what you want," Damien snorted.
"So which is it?" Kyle pressed. "I don't quite understand what you're telling me."
"What I'm saying, Kyle, is that the things you want, I already am," Damien stated as he took a step towards the Jew, shortening the distance between them by at least half. His hands remained in his pockets, though, but that didn't stop Kyle from shivering a bit. "I don't have to change a bit. Neither do you. All you have to do is just 'go with the flow' as you mortals say. Is it such a sin that I want to take care of you?"
"I c-can take care of myself!" Kyle stated, ignoring the stutter.
"Oh, I know you can," Damien replied and was it just him or was that hellspawn purring? An arm extended out and a hand planted itself on the locker behind the Jew. Damien leaned towards him slightly, his red eyes almost glittering. "How else could you survive in a chaotic town such as this one? I picked you for a reason. Many reasons in fact. I like that fire within you; it reminds me of home sometimes. You won't bow down to anyone without a fight and I like that."
Kyle swallowed as his back pressed up against the lockers behind him and Damien's other hand placed itself beside him, trapping him between two demonic arms. He looked away from Damien, searching to see if he could find any potential help in case he needed. He could see a couple people walk slowly by but there was something about it that he couldn't place his finger on.
A forked tongue licked his cheek and he shuddered, memories of other times popping into his head momentarily. He wrestled with them and put them down quickly enough but the damage had been done. He could feel his resolve crumble beneath the easy-going onslaught.
He glanced down at his watch in the hopes of maybe using the school bell as an advantage. Then he did a double-take as he read the time. Two minutes? Only two minutes had passed? That couldn't be right! He looked back over at the slow moving people and took a good look at them. To his utter surprise, he could see them walking like they were in slow-mo, moving but not going anywhere.
"Don't worry, I sent a prayer earlier so that we could have all the time we needed to talk," Damien whispered in his ear, knowing that the Jew had figured out what was going on. "My powers may be inaccessible to me now but an occasional prayer to my father will be answered. You know, he's taken a liking to you as well. Maybe that's why he granted my prayer this time but know we still don't have a lot of time, my pet. I know how you love resolution so try and bring some to this moment."
Kyle pressed his hands against Damien's shoulders and pushed him away a bit if only to get some breathing room. "I want to take it slow," he stated. "Before, I had no choice but to jump into this thing with you. Now I want to do what everybody else does."
"And what is that?" Damien asked, moving in closer again, and resting his head against the Jew's shoulder.
"You know…start off as friends," Kyle said, squirming uncomfortably.
"But we were friends, Kyle," Damien said, taking in a deep breath. It was kinda hard to figure out if he was smelling him or not, something that Kyle didn't want to dwell on at the moment. "Don't you remember? We met online."
"You were deceptive. You didn't have a picture for your icon or anything," Kyle stated.
"I didn't have a flattering picture of myself and I didn't want to stoop as low as those degenerate old men who prey on gullible little girls," Damien replied.
"You couldn't have used your webcam and computer to make a screenshot?"
"Don't have a webcam."
"And you couldn't have used something Satanic?"
"That would be stereotyping. Just because I'm the Antichrist, does that mean that I have to advertise that fact all the time? No, it gets boring and unoriginal at some point. Do you want me to be a stereotype, Kyle?"
"No, it's just…"
Damien pulled away abruptly but he didn't go far. One arm wrapped around the Jew's shoulders while his other hand cupped the back of the Jew's head. The next thing Kyle knew, his ear was being pressed against Damien's chest and he could hear the heartbeat within.
"Do you feel that Kyle?" Damien asked softly. "Can you hear it?"
"Yes," Kyle swallowed.
"Do you know what it means?" Damien continued, not raising his voice a decibel. "Can you tell how fast it's moving? Surprised?"
Kyle nodded his head, his eyes widening a little at a time with each sentence Damien completed. Was he alluding to something? Kyle had a feeling he did, a feeling that was pointing out the obvious to him.
"Do you understand me now, my pet?" Damien asked as he took Kyle's head with both of his hands and tilted upwards until green eyes met red. "No matter how hard you push me away, how far you run from me, how much you try to deny me, I will always follow after you to the farthest recesses of this world and claim you again, no matter how long it takes."
"That sounds so wrong and yet so…sweet," Kyle whispered. "Why can't I…?"
"Because you've had a taste of the devil," Damien chided teasingly, tapping the tip of his nose. "Once you have a taste, you will never have enough. Besides, I know you better than any of these mortals do. I've reached further into you than anybody else has. Beneath all the righteousness, the fury, the morality that you hold yourself to, underneath it all you want someone to dominate you because that's all you really feel safe with.
"Allow me to give you that, my pet. Just give me the word; tell me you'll have me back. Ignore what mortal society says, what that logical brain orders you to do, and trust that gut instinct of yours for once. Who knows, you might like where it takes you."
"Can't…can't I think about this?" Kyle asked, almost in a whimper. "You're…you're confusing me!"
"You're the only one causing yourself to be confused," Damien told him yet nevertheless pulled away from him, giving him some space. As he began to say something else, another sound cut him off.
"HHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAA—"
Both of the boys looked from one another to see Cartman only a few feet away from them, pointing a cubby finger towards them and yet moving so achingly slow. Oh yeah, Kyle remembered, that prayer Damien had mentioned earlier.
"—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—"
"Honestly, I do not know how you are able to put up with him," Damien commented as he glared subtly at Cartman. "You must have the patience of a saint."
"I don't," Kyle stated bluntly.
"—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFAAAAAAAAAA—"
"You know, this sounds so surreal," Kyle said. "I'm hearing Cartman insult me in slow motion. That's new."
"A shame my powers are so limited," Damien sighed mournfully. "At least I do have something that does almost redeem your species," he added as he began digging into his backpack.
"Oh? What's that?" Kyle asked curiously.
"—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"
"This!" Damien proclaimed triumphantly. In his hand, he held a sharpie marker like it was the Holy Grail. "The only thing that can best this in a contest of pure awesome is the Unholy Grail."
"What's that? Never heard of it," Kyle said.
"Eh, it's a cup so mysterious that no one's ever heard of it," Damien shrugged. "I don't know all the details but that doesn't matter. What matters is that here is a prime time to get back at your nemesis." He held the marker out to the Jew in offering.
"—AAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGG—"
"You're corrupting me, I just know," Kyle said as he took the marker and over to where Cartman still was. Uncapping it, he drew a little penis on Cartman's cheek, the head of the penis conspicuously close to Cartman's mouth.
"Not bad," Damien chuckled. "Now watch a pro." He took the marker back from Kyle and used it to write on Cartman's forehead.
Kyle frowned as Damien pulled away, staring at the letters Damien had written. "I don't get it," he said at last. "I don't even think some of those are letters."
"Imagine them on a reflective surface," Damien chuckled. "Remember, where I'm from, everything is backwards."
"Backwards, huh?" Kyle muttered as he took Damien's piece of advice into consideration. Then it hit him and he burst out in laughter. "Oh, you didn't!" Kyle crowed as he slapped a knee.
"I did," Damien smirked.
"—GGGGGGGGGSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!"
On Cartman's forehead in reverse were the words: I LIKE COCK.
"Anything else you'd like to do?" Damien asked humbly, holding the marker out again. "I believe we still have a good ten minutes before the prayer wears off and we're back in normal time."
"You bet your skinny ass I do!" Kyle said, snatching the marker back and descending back on the fat boy who was still oblivious to just what was being done to him.
Unbeknownst to Kyle, Damien was smirking at the redhead, eyes nearly gleaming as he set about luring his pet back to his side. Right where he belonged.
Mari looked up from the notepad and gave a blank stare to the eagerly waiting Roxi.
"Well?" Roxi urged. "What do you think?"
Mari glanced back down at the notepad then back up to Roxi. "I'm thinking that you're not only taking this too far, you're about to need some professional help from the local insane asylum. Roxi, what is going through your head?"
"Hey, don't knock it before you try it," Roxi defended, crossing her arms over her chest.
"You don't have to go that far," Mari stated. "You know, all you have to do is go straight to Kenny and ask him."
"How many times do I have to tell you that Kenny can't be Mysterion," Roxi scoffed. "It's like saying Clark Kent is Superman."
"Clark Kent is Superman," Mari said slowly.
"Whatever," Roxi rolled her eyes. "I haven't seen Kenny anywhere so I can't ask him like you keep saying I should, which I don't think will accomplish anything by the way."
Mari blinked. Kenny wasn't here today. Huh, when was the last time she had seen that blond pervert walking around school anyway? She hadn't seen him yesterday but she had gone days without seeing Kenny around before and yet knew he was in school. Why was it she had the feeling that he hadn't been in school yesterday? Or the day before that?
"So?" Roxi pressed. "Don't you think it looks cool?"
"It looks retarded," Mari said bluntly. "Do you really want to look like Michelle Pfeiffer in a gaudy cat outfit?"
"Yes, yes I do," Roxi answered without shame.
"I think Tim Burton is going to sue somebody," Mari said dryly.
"How else am I going to get Mysterion's attention, and better yet have him respect me?" Roxi demanded.
"You could, I don't know, follow what he told you to do and stay home when it's late at night?" Mari hazard.
"What? And ruin the plot?" Roxi demanded.
"You do know we're not the central plot, right?" Mari asked.
"We might be if there's a sequel," Roxi shot right back. "What better way to ensure a return in the next one than to start developing a potential plot line at the very end of this installment? It's genius, I tell you."
"Genius is another form of insanity," Mari said. "This is insane. Give it up before somebody who's not me gets hurt."
"But I want to be Mysterion's sex kitten," Roxi whined. "Please, you gotta help me!"
"No," Mari said. "It's too much work and no pay."
"But aren't we friends?" Roxi protested.
"Only when you aren't speaking with me."
"That's rude, Mari. Totally rude," Roxi pouted.
"I try."
"I can't even tell if there's any inflections in your words," Roxi complained. "The sub-standard author is being too lazy to give me any kind of hint!"
"What are you talking about?" Mari demanded, wondering what the hell the other girl was talking about.
"Just a passing thought, don't worry about it," Roxi dismissed. "But back to what's really important. I have most of the stuff I need to make this outfit. I need your help to sew it together to make it look cool."
"Why don't you ask Wendy to help? She'd be better than I would and besides, I don't know how to sew shit," Mari said.
"Wendy must be on her period because I tried asking her earlier and she blew me off!" Roxi complained.
"Blew you off?" Mari repeated.
"I know! She's too good of a person to do that," Roxi agreed with Mari's assessment.
"It probably has to do with her boyfriend. Best to stay out of it," Mari shrugged.
"That's what I thought!" Roxi exclaimed. "We're totally on the same wavelength so c'mon and help me out a little. I'll pay you!"
In retrospect, as Mari would eventually learn, she shouldn't have asked, "How much?"