Author's Note: After some consideration, I decided not to break this chapter into two parts. It's the climax of the story and I didn't feel like delaying you guys from getting it. Been working on this fic too long to stall it any longer. Anyway, this chapter has some adult stuff in it that will definitely offend your sensibilities, as it should. Also, there is a big fight scene, something I know not many people will be into outside of action-starved and testosterone-laden guys.
Originally, I wanted the big fight scene for this chapter to be a four-way fight but I came across two insurmountable obstacles. One was how was I going to bring everything to getting so that it fit. Second was how to choreograph it. Both fell in pretty quickly and very early on but that is where the Mysterion subplot was started. Now some of the fruits of my labors are beginning to ripen and I'm more than willing to share them with you.
So take a few minutes to mentally prepare yourself and when you're ready, enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.
Warning: language, violence, adult themes, death
Let's Have a Three-way
Like a lost soul, Sunny wandered down the street, her eyes darting over to where Charlie's house stood. The girl bit her lip, wondering if she should go over and see if the only person who could get her into contact with a real-life sociopath was home and if she knew how to find him.
She was nervous, more submissive than the more outgoing Charlie so it usually took great effort for her to walk up to the front door and knock. Or ring the doorbell, whichever it was that she was mindful of at the moment.
She didn't want or mean to be a pest but she was desperate. Why was this so hard for her? Conjuring a demon, enchanting a hoodoo doll, and summoning a Hollywood slasher should be nothing compared to asking Bain to do this one little thing for her. Maybe it was her natural shyness or the fact there was something more real about going to a real life person than something that could have come from her own imagination.
Still, she had a feeling that Charlie wouldn't welcome yet another visit from her. The way her voice had dulled with each and every visit she made seemed to be a good indicator of this though Sunny couldn't be too sure.
She came to a stop, Charlie's house across the street, directly in front of her. Should she or shouldn't she? That was the question that weighed on her mind.
"Looking for someone?"
She squeaked, jumping at the unexpected voice that had come from right…behind…her…
She spun around, expecting to see either someone from school looking at her weirdly or maybe some kind of potential rapist who was planning on chaining her in his basement and having his way with her until she broke free and smashed his brains out with an aluminum baseball bat. Then she found she had to look slightly down as the person who was behind her wasn't as tall as she was expecting.
She almost had another heart attack when she realized it was Bain who was right behind her, looking at her with idle curiosity.
"I hear you've been looking for me," Bain stated briskly, almost in a business-like manner. "Here I am. No need to keep stalking my significant other."
Why was it that she could somehow find the courage to speak to Charlie who normally wouldn't give her the time of day yet anything she could say turned to ask in front of Bain? Wait, she knew, it was plain ass fear. Simple as that.
"Well?" Bain demanded impatiently, becoming annoyed with her silence. "You were quite chatty with Charlotte but I haven't heard a word out of you. Speak now or I will forever prevent you from speaking again."
He was so eloquent with his threats, wasn't he, she wondered. With annoyance reflecting from his eyes, she figured that now would be a good time to try and explain herself before he went through with whatever he was planning on doing to her.
"I-I-I-I-" she found herself stuttering. Crap, was she that afraid of him?
"Spit it out," Bain deadpanned.
"Help!" she managed to get out. "I need help. Your help. Please."
"Help with what?" Bain asked pleasantly. "I'm a very busy person and I haven't got all day."
She fell to her knees and grabbed fistfuls of his coat, looking up at him with tears beading up in the corners of her eyes. "Please! Kill Rod! I beg you! Kill him for me!"
A blink of his eyes. That was it. While most people would have pushed her away or backed away themselves, wondering if she lost her mind, he stood there and didn't give any emotional reaction a normal person would.
"Is that it?" he finally asked.
Now it was her turn to blink only it was in confusion. She hadn't expected him to say that. Maybe a "yes," maybe a "hell no, get away from me," but definitely not a "is that it."
Safe to say, she was grasping at straws at this point.
"It's going to take more than begging to convince me to kill your ex," Bain drawled as he placed the tip of his finger on her forehead and pushed her head back slightly. "Falling to your knees and begging with all your heart, tears threatening to spill is not going make me feel sorry enough for to do this of my own free will. You're going to have to try better than that."
Why was it that she now felt so lost? This was her last chance to make Rod pay for what he had done to her and now not only was it slipping from her fingers, it was deserting her without consideration of the pain that she has been going through. Her nightmare was becoming complete; her innocence had been taken from her and she was not only powerless to avenge it, she was abandoned by everything…
"Wake up!" Bain snapped at her. "Do you always look lost? It's more than mildly annoying. Stop looking like I killed your dog or cat or whatever. I never said I wouldn't do it you mindless kitchen drone."
She was alone in this world, cast aside and…wait, what?
"But…didn't you say…?" Her confusion was evident but Bain merely rolled his eyes at her as if he was dealing with someone who was intellectually far beneath him.
"I only said that your attempts to con me into doing it weren't going to work, I never said that I wasn't going to put an axe blade in his skull," Bain scoffed as he pushed her away.
"So you'll do it…?" she trailed off hopefully.
"Not for the reasons you're hoping," Bain sniffed, looking away from her as he readjusted his trenchcoat. "But if you'd like to find out, then I'm assuming you know where I live, yes?"
She nodded. Charlie had given her the address a while back and she had kept it.
"Show up at five this evening," Bain commanded. "There's something I'd like to show you…"
Damien sat on the guest bed, staring blandly at his babysitter who had only just now ordered him to stay in this room and not come out until she got back. While he knew she had the authority to tell him what to do, he wasn't about to let her think he would take it sitting down.
"What about if I require sustenance?" he asked innocently. "What if you're out too long and I get hungry? As my legal guardian on the surface, you must tend to my needs or risk being arrested for child abuse."
"I'd like to see you use that argument in court," Charlie replied. "You look the same age as I do; unless you can turn back the clock and look nine again, I don't think you're going to have much luck with your case."
"For your information, I have access to millennia's worth of lawyers and politicians," Damien said flippantly. "They'll find something, especially if I give them incentive to do so."
"But they're all in Hell, the only place you can't go to until this year is up," Charlie corrected. Gripping the talisman that she wore around her neck, she made her indomitable will known and Damien had to bow in the face of it. "If you get hungry, Stella will take care of you but I better not hear anything about you messing with her. Capisce?"
"Of course," Damien grounded out, his red eyes glaring at his sitter's backside as she left. He remained on his bed, waiting until he felt the power of that talisman wane slightly, a sign that Charlie had put some physical distance between them.
However, he knew better than to try and test his boundaries. As his father had explained to him, he was not to leave South Park and as long as he was in this town, he had to obey the wearer of the talisman. It made making other mortal's lives unbearable that much harder to do.
Well, he had a few cards up his sleeve and perhaps now was a good time to use one. If all went well, Charlie wouldn't be able to trace it back to him.
"O Azazel," he summoned, his voice almost cooing.
In the corner of the Whites' guestroom, a small black mist formed, a baaing sound telling the Antichrist that his servant had arrived. "Yes, my lord?"
"It's been too warm in this mountain town," Damien commented as he picked some lint off his shoulder. "How about you help cool it down some and bring the nearest thunderstorm over here? That might cool some hotheads around here."
"Um…I don't know if that's in my contract…" the servant began to say, trying to excuse himself.
"I may be unable to punish you now," Damien spoke up, interrupting his servant, "but in due time I will and such disobedience now will be punished then. Tenfold."
"I'll d-d-do my b-b-baaa-est!" the servant stuttered, baaing in the middle of his sentence.
"You'll do more than your best, you'll get me my storm," Damien stated, shooting a one-eyed glare at the black mist.
"O-of course!" the servant exclaimed, slipping away into the ethers.
Ah, now that was a piece of home he hadn't had in some time. As he allowed himself to relax, Damien let a demonic grin split his face wide open. Now this little spat between his sitter and this mortal would be more…
…even.
They were late. Nothing got on Bain's nerves more than when someone was late, especially when he had been the one to set the time.
What was so hard about showing up at five o'clock? Had he not spoken English? Was his request just too demanding? Were either of them just too good for him to show up when he had asked them to?
The doorbell had just barely rung when he violently opened the front door, glaring at his two guests like they were less than a piece of gum stuck to his boot. Tardiness disgusted him.
"What's with the look?" Charlie asked, looking at him pointedly and obviously not getting what had him peeved. He ignored what she said for a second, his glare fixing on the Sunny girl who shrunk behind Charlotte as she rightly should. His gaze went over them slightly for a second, noticing something but just as quickly returned to Charlotte.
"Were you curing cancer?" he asked pleasantly instead.
"No?" Charlie answered, trying to figure out where he was going with this. Cute.
"Then I do not understand just what could have kept you from showing at five in the evening, today, on the very day that I told you to show up," he snapped.
"You're pissed that I'm late just by a couple minutes?" Charlie demanded. "How about you learn some patience? I had her following behind me," she jerked her thumb at the girl behind her, "and I thought you had already taken care of that."
"I asked you both here," Bain stated. "Next time, maybe I should tell you what time to leave so that you can show up on time? Do I have to hold your hands or something?"
"Hey, who's wasting time now?" Charlie interrupted.
Bain glared at the girl but moved aside to let both of them in. Women, you can't trust them to get from point A to point B without a map, compass, or a GPS and not get themselves lost. He continued to glower at the time as they passed him, Sunny shying away from him like she should.
"So what is it you want to tell me?" Charlie asked.
Slamming the door, he took the lead and led the two to his living room. "As I said earlier, it's for both of you. I have my reasons for why but they are for me to know. Now take a seat, you're both going to need it."
He took his place in his favorite chair, his anger subsiding as he leveled a more composed expression at them, waiting for them to heed his command. He noted that Sunny was quick to obey but that Charlotte, as usual, defied him. He raised an eyebrow at her, as if saying "well?" Finally, after a tense stare off, she decided to play along and took her seat on the couch.
Now that he had his audience where he wanted them, he eyed them both for a second, taking in their looks from Charlotte's impatient curiosity to Sunny's more worried tenseness. He liked Sunny's expression more; it made him feel powerful.
Charlotte looked like she was about to demand that he get on with it and he took it as his sign to start, cutting her off before she could say a word. "I've brought you both here today because you both have some sort of relationship with one Robert Woods."
"I don't have anything with that douchebag," Charlotte interrupted, glaring at him.
"Of course you do," Bain corrected her. "You have an incredibly negative relationship with him, one marked with one-sided affection, cruelty, and violence. Pinkie over here is in the same boat with one-sided affection, cruelty, and…well, that's where your similarities end."
"And your point?"
"Don't rush me, I'm on a roll," Bain said. Clearing his throat, he got back into his previous frame of mind. "Despite all this, I bet that neither of you really know who you've been dealing with for the past few months. Mr. Woods, as it turns out, has a lot of skeletons in his closet. I would know, I trekked back to his point of origin and dug up all the dirt I could possibly find. What I found wasn't pretty."
He knew he had Sunny in the palm of his hand from the way she was unconsciously leaning towards, getting involved with his monologue. Charlotte, however, wasn't as impressed.
"So what? He has some shit he doesn't want other people to know about," she said. "We all are like that so what's your fucking point? I don't have time to deal with your games, Bain."
Eh, not where he wanted her but it was close. Time to do what he loved most.
Put Charlotte in her place.
He pulled out a vanilla folder that he had planted between the cushion and armrest of his chair. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the folder whirling onto the coffee table between the three of them.
"Take a look at the first photo in there," he instructed. "Tell me if you don't find it familiar."
Looking at him suspiciously, Charlotte nevertheless snatched the folder up and opened it.
"Bain? Is this…?" she began to ask but Bain decided not to keep her in suspense.
"No, that is not Devin Brasch," he answered her barely spoken question. "Looks similar to her, doesn't it? Similar position, similar surroundings, and no clothes whatsoever? That, dear Charlotte, is one Mary Kay Vernon. She'd be a sophomore in college by now if she hadn't been found like that the day after her senior prom."
Charlotte looked back to him, not getting what the dead girl in the photo she was looking at had to do with Rod. Sunny, having scooted closer to the more outgoing girl to get a better look at the picture, looked a bit too fascinated with the image, one of her hands held up but wavering between whether or not to take hold of the photo or return to her lap.
"Didn't you know?" Bain asked. "Her date to her high school prom was none other than Rod Woods. And yes, it's the same Rod Woods that we all know and hate."
That definitely got her attention. "Wait. Are you telling me…?" Oh yes, she was picking up quickly, finally using those skills she picked up from her precious Sherlock.
"Oh yes, that's exactly what I'm telling you," he confirmed, his lips curved in a malevolent smile. "A few weeks ago, Rod takes Devin Brasch out on a date to the Homecoming Dance and the next morning we find her dead. Mary Kay Vernon goes out on a date with Rod to her senior prom and is found dead the next morning. Coincidence? Maybe but on the next couple pages, it sums up the state of her body.
"Bruising, markings on her wrists and ankles, trauma and tearing found in her vaginal canal. Oh, and let's not forget about the bruising found on her neck that had a pattern similar to those of large hands wrapping around it. Crushed larynx and cause of death strangulation. She was restrained and had a rough time during sexual intercourse, during which she was strangled.
"But that's not the best part. There was trace evidence found on her body that led back to Robert being a 'possible' suspect. According to the original notes, a few drops of semen were collected. A few hairs that did not belong to the victim were also found."
"You're talking about forensics now," Charlotte interrupted. "Semen, hairs, that should have locked him up a long time ago."
"Funny story," Bain said. "Apparently, those drops of semen vanished before they could be tested. At least, that's what the most recent reports say despite the fact they were last seen being transferred to a lab to be tested. The hairs were inconclusive as they had been damaged though according to the results they could not exclude Robert here."
"Missing? Damaged?" Charlotte repeated. "The way you're putting it, the police were inept in collecting the evidence."
"It wouldn't be the first time," Bain shrugged. "However, it was also about the time that there was some movement going on in a certain corporate headquarters, the same one that employ both of Robert's parents. High price lawyers started getting involved and the police were spooked. One day, Robert's marked off the list of possible suspects for no apparent reason and the case goes cold a couple months later."
"A cover up? Why?" Charlotte demanded. "Why would some company want to get involved in something like this? It makes no sense."
"It might soon enough," Bain countered. "Skip over a few pages and you'll find another photograph. The story behind it happens to be stranger than this one."
Charlotte looked up at him, giving him a dubious look. "You're suggesting to me that some big time corporation got on its hands and knees to help a kid who belongs to two of their employees out of the goodness of their hearts?"
"Not at all, corporations, contrary to what Mitt Romney says, are not people and thus have no souls," Bain replied. "Now go on and flip on over to that next photograph."
Finally, she was listening to him and skipping ahead. He saw her incredulous expression and he didn't blame her. That had been his reaction when he had first seen it.
"Is that leather?" Sunny asked. Oh, he had forgotten about her. He felt there was something odd about that. He'd have to keep an eye on her; no sense having another homegrown killer in this town.
"Why yes it is," he confirmed. "I believe it's called a bodice. Who you're looking at right now is a woman known mainly by her trade name: Trixie. Mistress Trixie. She was a professional dominatrix who was rumored to be willing to do anything and everything, whether it involved bodily fluids, bestiality, necrophilia, or pedophilia. If it exists, she probably did it."
"Okay and she's dead," Charlotte said, obvious disgust in her voice. "What does she have to do with Rod?"
"Where do you think the pedophilia comes in?" Bain countered.
"Oh. OH. Oh God, I think I'm going to be sick!" Charlie exclaimed, dry heaving. Even Sunny was turning a little green at the gills.
"Try not to get any on the furniture, I think one of them was reupholstered recently," Bain said, sitting up straighter to keep an eye on Charlotte.
"Naturally I'm about to vomit up my guts and you're worried about the furniture," Charlie spat at him. "Let me guess, the carpet was shampooed too?"
"Oh, you can throw up on the carpet," Bain told her, "I won't be the one cleaning it up."
Groaning, she said, "Just try and edit some of the worst stuff out. Explain what a dead hooker has to do with this."
"You'd be surprised how hard it was to find anything out about her," Bain began explaining, sitting back in his chair. "Outside of her place of business, I couldn't find anything on her. At least, that was the case until a little tip led me back to her day job. You see, while dominatrix…ing was her passion, it didn't pay on all the bills so she needed something else to supplement her income. She worked as a secretary for one Mr. Solms who instead of actually using her as a secretary, employed her as a babysitter."
"And who is Mr. Solms?" Charlie asked.
"Rod's father. He shared her with his wife who decided to retain her maiden name when they married," Bain told them. "But we're getting ahead of ourselves. Rod's parents, while great at their jobs, were absentminded when it came to caring for their son. Deciding to handle their own secretarial duties themselves, they assigned Mistress Trixie as their son's babysitter. Outside of having to make an occasional appearance at the workplace, Trixie got to stay out on the streets, applying her more passionate trade. Reports I managed to gather mentioned that at some point she had a young boy following her around. A boy, who I might add, looked older than he really did and every once in a while was seen wearing her hat."
"So Rod was raised by a dominatrix?" Sunny asked quietly. Bain glanced over to her, internally cursing himself for forgetting that she was also in the room with them. If she didn't speak, he found himself focusing all his attention on Charlotte and ignoring her. Damn it, he was playing for an audience of two, not one!
"Indeed," he answered. "A dominatrix who, as I found out, had a very affluent clientele."
"That doesn't make any sense," Charlie frowned at him. "You're saying that she needed two jobs to get by but had some rich people going to her for some sick sex shit? Something's not adding up right."
"I know what you mean," Bain rolled his eyes though it was more in contempt for the deceased than for the living. "A little more digging, however, answered that. She may have been charging a cheap fee for her dominating services but she was also demanding some favors from her well-collected clients as well. If she had legal troubles, these rich men would have to pay her lawyers or find some way to get rid of the evidence. In the midst of passions, she could get any one of them to agree to her demands and with a recording, force them to abide by the agreements.
"In essence, she was getting all the benefits of being affluent without actually being affluent. Her clients consisted of married men in high positions and if their sessions with her were to get out, they'd be ruined or charged with some crimes. Remember, not everything she did was legal. She had them by the balls and they knew it. She had them under her thumb and used her prowess to prevent them from even coming to the conclusion that they should seek the aid of a hitman or a specialist in removing…inconveniences. She had become a goddess, indestructible and master of their domain. Psychological learned helplessness if you will."
"So what went wrong?" Sunny asked quietly.
"She showed up dead one day and suddenly all their problems were solved," Bain said casually. "Because she had so many customers in high places, they for once had a common goal: to prevent any of what she had on them from becoming public knowledge. Ultimately, the case grew cold and now it rests in a police archive, waiting for the cold case division to reach it. With some…help, I was able to track down someone involved in the cover-up and that's when I learned of Rod's involvement. It seemed like he got tired of always being submissive and turned the tables on her one night. She led him into a life of debauchery and paid for it by becoming his first victim."
"What's this all leading up to?" Charlie asked, wanting to get to the heart of the matter it seemed.
"When the Vernon murder occurred, a few of Mistress Trixie's former clients decided to get together, feeling that they owed him one. Not all of them mind you but one of them happened to be a big time CEO of a major corporation that just happened to be the very one that employed his parents.
"There was a catch, though. As soon as things quieted down, he would have to leave town. His parents would be the stickler: both were incredibly good at their jobs so it became less of a matter of keeping them around so much as not letting their competitors get a hold of them. The solution: transfer them to another branch and hope they wouldn't embarrass them more than they already had."
"So they were transferred to Colorado but Rod is still up to his old tricks," Charlotte concluded.
"I would assume," Bain agreed. "Before they left, as if his own parents were ashamed of him, that had him go to court and have his name changed. Originally, he was Robert Solms and now it's Robert Woods, changing from his father's last name to his mother's. I think the two were intending something else but Robert decided to fuck them over and keep at least one of their names. Not long after, his mother left her maiden name and took on her husband's." Now he turned his full attention towards Sunny, fully intending on satisfying his curiosity on a certain topic. "One way to confirm if he's still plying his old trade is going to involve our pink friend over here. Sunny, you said your name was? True or false. You've gone all the way with Rod here."
The girl squeaked as Bain focused his attention solely on her, ignoring the look Charlotte was giving him.
"Well? We don't have all day," he drawled. "Yes or no."
Sunny's face flushed red in embarrassment but much to Bain's satisfaction, she nodded yes. Okay, step one done. Now for two.
"How did that go?" he asked. "Did he engage in any BDSM while you were with him? Handcuffs? Whips? Something else that might prove painful?"
"Whoa! Whoa! Where do you think you're going with this?" Charlie demanded, interrupting the interrogation.
"Confirming my suspicions," Bain stated coolly. "Well, woman? What did he do?"
"Don't answer that!" Charlie snapped at Sunny. "He's being a dick right now."
"Answer the question," Bain ordered, ignoring Charlotte. He gazed straight into her eyes, demanding that she answer and stop wasting his time.
"Bain, do you want me to hurt you?" Charlie snapped at him. He refrained from looking at her, knowing that she was indeed promising him some sort of pain for pulling this latest stunt. All in good time, he promised her silently. Once this girl gave him the answer to what he was investigating, the more efficient he could solve this little puzzle that was Rod Solms/Woods.
"H-he," Sunny sobbed, "he handcuffed me to his bed."
"Go on," he encouraged, leaning forward.
"Stop! You're only satisfying some sick fantasy of his!" Charlie yelled at the girl.
"Talking about a trauma is more beneficial to a person than holding it in," Bain shot back at her. "I'd think you of all people would know that." Turning back to Sunny, he demanded, "Well?"
"Listen to me, he's being a bastard," Charlie said to the trembling girl. "You don't have to tell him anything."
"No. I…I want to," Sunny said quietly, looking down at her lap. "I just…I don't want to say it out loud."
"Then whisper it in my ear," he told her, a triumphant smirk on his face. "Nobody else has to know if you don't want it."
"Okay," Sunny swallowed, standing up shakily and making her way over to him. She placed her hands around an ear, cupping it as she leaned in and in a quiet voice began whispering to him.
The following has been edited out due to being too graphic for anyone sane or of sound mind. To get the full story, e-mail Bain Cynis at homicidalmaniac (at sign) gmail . com in which your request will be promptly ignored.
"And you say I'm sick," Bain said casually towards Charlotte. It was a reflex, really, as even he was a bit disturbed from hearing about what went on behind Rod's closed doors. And this girl was still alive after all that? And hadn't lost her mind? She was stronger than he thought. No wonder she had been hoping to sic him on the bastard.
"What did she say?" Charlie demanded of him. "You look weirded out. Is it that bad?"
He looked at the meeker girl, debating on whether telling Charlie what she had just told him and ultimately deciding against. It was best for Charlotte to retain some measure of innocence.
"Let's just say that it clears some things up," he said delicately, unable to resist shuddering at the images that were corrupting his mind. He seriously did not need to know about any ways a candle could be used for other than providing light. "He's sicker than I originally thought…"
"That's great to know," Charlie grimaced.
"Neglected by his parents, sexually abused by a stranger, and now sexually assaulting any female that crosses his path," Bain mused. "A victim becomes a victimizer; nice way to keep that cycle of violence and abuse going, wouldn't you say?"
"Trying to be philosophical, huh?" Charlie grunted. "The only thing that's philosophical here is my fist that's going to be making friends with that rapist's face."
Bain blinked before recalling what he had heard the previous night. Instead of coming out with it, he decided to play innocent, toy with his favorite person to annoy. "Oh? Are you planning on meeting up with him soon? Don't tell me you're thinking of downgrading to him. That would make me have to hurt someone."
"In your dreams. I'm going to beat Rod up tonight," she declared. "He tried to get the upperhand on me last night. Thought he could intimidate me with a knife but thanks to you, it was easy as pie taking him down."
"I've yet to hear you say you finished him," he said idly.
"Unlike some people around here, I think twice before I decide to kill anybody," Charlie stated, glaring at him defiantly.
"I don't recall you thinking twice about Jacky-boy," he pointed out.
"I had third and fourth thoughts before I decided to stop him from threating me and the rest of my family," she stated. "You think it was easy for me to do that?"
"Whatever makes you sleep easier at night," he shrugged, glancing back at the forgotten Sunny who was watching them, lost and not understanding what they were talking about.
"Fuck you, asshole," she snarled, towering over him. "I don't need to take any of this from you! I'm out of here."
"You're still going to go beat him up?" he asked her.
"Duh!" she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
Now he got out of his chair but instead of following her, he headed towards a window, the blinds closed and concealing the view outside. "Care to tell me how you're going to do that with this out?" he asked as grasped the pullstring and yanked it down, pulling the blinds up and revealing dark clouds overhead.
He smirked as Charlotte visibly tensed up. Oh yes, he could always count on that phobia of hers; storms terrified her like nothing else and this would put her at a major disadvantage if she went one-on-one with Rod.
"The weatherman didn't say anything about rain," Sunny murmured to herself. Bain had the sense of mind not to snort at the girl in contempt.
"Having second thoughts?" he half asked, half suggested.
"No!" she blurted out, though it was obvious she was putting every effort into not knocking her knees together.
"How noble of you," he cooed as he stalked towards her leisurely. "Even in the face of such great odds, you refuse to back down. That's something I love about you my dear. That is also why I cannot allow you to be on time for your 'date.'"
A well-timed crack of thunder distracted the girl, allowing Bain to slip in behind her and slide his arm around her throat, capturing her in a sleeper hold. As she struggled, Bain calmly shushed her. "Relax, let consciousness slip away. Don't resist Charlotte; it's for your own good." Under normal circumstances, Charlotte would have been able to break free but this was not normal circumstances and he was able to subdue the firecracker of a girl, lowering her carefully to the floor as unconsciousness took her.
He released the hold, no joy or gratification showing on his face. In fact, he didn't feel any kind of elations for such a victory. No, he felt empty, null if you will. Well, perhaps he could fix that by making somebody else suffer…
He snapped his head around, leveling a threating glare at Sunny who was held in captivation. "You are not to let her out of this house, understand?" he growled at her. At her frightened nod, he gestured with his head for her to come over to him. "Help me get her on the couch. Move it."
It wasn't difficult as much of Charlotte's weight was essentially dead weight and they had her lying on the soft cushions, dead to the word as it were. The only sign that she was indeed still alive was her breathing, her chest rising up and down with each inhalation and exhalation.
"Remember," he said to the other girl. "Keep an eye on her and don't let her out. I'll be keeping her appointment this evening whether she wants me to or not."
Without another word, he headed for the basement. He had some tools he needed to pick up…
The chilly wind, the dark clouds that blanketed the sky, the tension in the air that was but a sign that screamed that something was about to happen…
All were a clear signal to South Park's dark guardian that some deep shit was about to go down.
He had been delayed too long, held captive by deranged airport security agents and forced to hitchhike his way back to the city that he had sworn to protect. Anything could have happened by now.
If something had happened, then it wouldn't be Mysterion's finest moment. He had the power, the knowledge to prevent whatever travesty that was building up but unfortunately he did not have the evidence to go to the higher authorities and prevent it. His adversary had already snatched it up and fled back. Now he had to get it back if he wanted to save some lives.
He knew where Bain's house was and while he believed the asshole wouldn't be stupid enough to leave that precious evidence there, he had to start somewhere. Of course that would also require that Bain was taking his sweet time and not rushing to snatch justice with his own hands.
He snuck in through Bain's window but found the sociopath's bedroom was void of said sociopath. He also found that it was void of the evidence he was searching for after ransacking it. He hadn't underestimated his opponent but it hadn't hurt to check the place just in case. From there he wisped into the rest of the house, straining his ears for any little sound that there was any movement. Dying was not on the top of his list here and if he did die, it would be another day wasted.
He could not have that.
Sneaking down the stairs, he saw a flash of pink that made him freeze in his tracks. Was somebody else here too? Cautiously, he tiptoed down the rest of the stairs and peeked into the living room. So he hadn't imagined the pink; there was a girl, Sunny Grain he believed, sitting in Bain's living room and there was…Charlie!
Lottery Ticket was just lying there on that couch, not moving, and he felt a sense of dread welling up inside of him. Had Bain finally done it? Had he finally killed her after all this time? He fled from the darkness, marching up to Sunny and the lifeless Charlie, a dark glare warning anyone not to mess with him.
Sunny snapped her head around, squeaking as she saw him and curled up into a chair, shying away from him in fear. He was getting much better at this now that just a glare could intimidate a suspect.
"What happened here?" he demanded, his gravelly voice harsh. "What happened to her?"
Sunny opened and closed her mouth, unable to say anything to the masked vigilante but Mysterion was not in the mood for it. He slammed a hand on either side of the girl and loomed over her, his masked eyes boring holes into her head.
"I'm not going to ask again. What. Happened," he growled out.
"H-h-he knocked her out," Sunny stuttered over her words. Damn, she was so afraid she looked like she was about to wet her panties. Would serve Bain right if she did stain his furniture.
He glanced over at Charlie, not moving from his position as he eyed her body critically. Wait, was her chest…? Oh thank God. She was still breathing. That meant Bain hadn't fulfilled his threats to her.
"Where is he?" he demanded, turning back to Sunny.
"He left," she told him, eyes wide with fear. "He said that he was going to take her place."
"Take her place doing what?"
"Going after Rod. Charlie said she was going to fight him but he knocked her out and left."
Mysterion paused. So Rod was still alive? Then perhaps it wasn't too late.
"Where did he go?" he pressed urgently. "Where are they meeting?"
"I don't know!" Sunny sobbed.
"Did he say anything?" he tried, trying to figure out anything that Bain might have slipped when he left. There had to be some clue; there just had to be!
"Charlie might know…" Sunny whispered.
Of course! Pushing away from the girl, he made his way over to Charlie, pausing when he noticed an opened folder on the coffee table. There was his evidence! And it was out in the open! But what had Bain wanted to accomplish here? He was so far behind yet he needed to do some major catching up.
With a gloved hand, he shook Charlie, trying to coax her out of her slumber as quickly as he could. There was no time to be gentle here.
"Charlie. Charlie!" he said harshly, hovering over her as if by getting closer to her and saying her name loudly, it would wake her up.
Imagine his surprise when a palm slammed into his cheek and forced him away from her. He nearly landed on the coffee table but his honed reflexes enabled him to angle for the space between the table and the couch. Above him, Charlie coughed, a hand tenderly touching her neck.
"What happened?" she rasped, looking around in confusion at her surroundings.
He was back on his feet in an instant and placing his hands on her shoulders. "Where's Bain going?" he demanded, slightly shaking her to get her attention. "Where were you going to fight Rod?"
Charlie blinked at him, not understanding what he was talking about until it dawned on her. "That fucking asshole!" she snarled as she shoved Mysterion away, getting up and heading for the door. "Wait until I get my hands on—"
A loud crack of thunder rumbled and Charlie was crouched on the floor, her body warring on whether to fight or run. It then hit him; so that was why Bain had knocked her out. Perhaps he did have some feelings for people other than himself. Nevertheless, now was not the time to ponder about epiphanies. He needed to stop a murder and fast.
"Charlie! Where are they?" he demanded as he took hold of her shoulder again. "Think girl! Where are they?"
Charlie whimpered slightly but slowly angled her head up to the masked hero. "Construction site," she gasped out. "Nine."
Immediately, Mysterion snapped his head over towards the TV and beneath it, the box for Time Warner Cable. There on the front of it, the current time.
8:58.
Damn it, it was almost time! He looked over to the coffee table then over to the front door. Which should he choose?
A split second later, he was out the door, running as fast as he could. No time to go to the police; he had to stop Bain!
Rod sneered at the sight. Ugly ass looking place. Why hadn't anybody finished building whatever this was supposed to be? It was a fucking eyesore; hadn't changed a bit since he first saw it when he moved here.
Okay, he was ready, more than ready for this. Did he have everything? Skin-tight leather pants? Check. Black tank top? Check? Fingerless gloves? Check? Leather jacket? Check. Was his hat on properly? He reached up and adjusted his peaked hat, making sure that it was on his head securely. Double check.
Alright, he was ready to take this bitch. No more do-overs. This time she was not going to get away from him.
Boldly, he passed through the open gate, eyes darting from side to side as he tried to find the girl that was his prey for the night. Now where could she be? Had she lost her nerve or was this going to be a game of hide and seek? Just a fun game except at the end when he raped the shit out of her? That might be more fun than beating the brains out of the bitch.
While normally he could have the patience of a saint, he wasn't particularly feeling very patient tonight. He was violating his parents' orders to stay at the house and if they called and he didn't answer, well there would be hell to pay.
He wasn't in the mood to go through with that.
"Charlie!" he yelled out. He waited, expecting an echo or something but remembered that he wasn't in a cave or in front of a canyon. If there was an echo, it'd be so quiet he wouldn't hear it. Growling, he yelled out Charlie's name again, scanning the place for any sign of her.
A boom of thunder overhead reminded him that a torrent of rain could fall down at any moment. He didn't feel like getting wet either; the leather jacket would shield him no doubt but he was still unsure how well water and leather got along.
"I'm afraid Charlotte won't be able to attend tonight. She's found herself a bit incapacitated this night so I took it upon myself to take her place."
Who was that? That wasn't Charlie's voice!
"Over here, pretty boy."
Why did that voice sound much closer? He looked in the direction he believed the voice came from and imagine his surprise when he found the shrimp Charlie called a boyfriend. With that black trenchcoat of his, he had blended in with the darkness of the night. Not only that, he was keeping away from any of the lights that had been turned on around this place.
But damn, he had balls, didn't he? Rod remembered last night how this shrimp tried to run him down. Maybe he could pay him back for that tonight, show that shrimp just why you didn't mess with him. Maybe this wasn't going to be a bad night after all.
"Just the person I wanted to see," he smirked, cracking his knuckles. "I owe you for last night. It was a real bitch move trying to run me over."
"You seem in high spirits," Bain commented, stalking towards him like a lion or tiger would. Rod had no idea why he would compare such big and deadly animals to this guy but damn, this guy could leave a bit of an impression. He had to give him that. But it would mean nothing, especially when Rod pounded him six feet under. Hey, if he couldn't get Charlie tonight, he might do this asshole instead, as a message if you could look at it that way.
Bain was starting to circle around him, his eyes not leaving him for an instant. Rod followed him, turning his head and later his body little by little to keep up with the shrimp's orbit. "High spirits? I guess you could say that," he said. "I get to beat up on you instead of Charlie. Since you're a guy, I won't hold back."
"You hold back when hitting a girl?" Bain raised an eyebrow. "How gentlemanly of you. You give them a chance I wouldn't."
"Maybe that's because I'm normal," Rod shot at him.
"You? Normal? Don't make me laugh," Bain scoffed. "How normal is it to be babysat by a dominatrix? To be sexually abuse by one? I've been curious about that, actually."
Rod froze, eyes widening. How…how did he know about that? How did he find out!
"Unlike some people around here, I like to research my prey before I go in for the kill," Bain answered him without being asked. He came to a stop and turned fully to face him. "I know so much about you. The little things that you'd like to keep secret, hidden away from the world so that no one would suspect just how fucked up you are. You're tormented by what happened to you, aren't you? That's why you do what you do with all those girls."
"Shut up," he growled, glaring murderously at the smaller teen.
"You need to feel power and in control at all times because control was what was taken from you by that dom, wasn't it?" Bain continued mercilessly. "Yet no matter how hard you try, you can never get back that sense that you are in charge of your own life. You go through girl after girl, chaining them down and doing whatever you desire to them and they have no choice but to endure it, just like you had to."
"Shut. Up."
"You've built yourself, sculpted a body that would serve as bait to lure an endless stream of whores to you. You learned the games of seduction and appealed to their lust and hormones and more often than not, you succeed. Beneath it all, you're still that powerless, little boy aren't you? Crying out for your mother and father to save you even as you're being erotically tortured by the very person they entrusted your care to. You've been betrayed an awful lot."
"Shut up!"
"Is that why you killed those girls? Even after your mistress is gone and you have no reason to be afraid, you continue the games that she played with you with other people. So what caused you to cross the line? Was it because they continued to fight back? That they had the willpower to do what you couldn't do? And when they fought back, they threatened to take away that control that you so desire to possess? Did it scare you? Or did you become angry at yourself that they could do what you were too weak to do?"
"Shut the fuck up!"
"What is it, Little Rod?"
Rod screamed in absolute fury as he launched himself straight at Bain.
He was going to rip this little shit apart!
Bain took a calm breath, Winslow held tightly in his hand. Sleight-of-hand had been a technique he had picked up over the years, only really getting serious about it when Charlotte had moved to town. It always paid to have some kind of ace up your sleeve, especially with that girl.
With Rod charging at him, it was only a matter of flicking his wrist and out comes Winslow. An instant later, Rod is a few feet behind him and coming to a stop. Bain eyed Winslow's blade clinically, noting there was not a trace of blood on it. Huh, he missed…
He turned his body only enough so that he could face Rod yet still be able to take off should the occasion call for it. Rod was still before him, slightly hunched as if he was clutching at something. Slowly, the larger teen faced him, his eyes wide in disbelief. As the blond turned, Bain spotted just what he had cut.
There was a long slit in Rod's jacket, a tear that was quite obvious and in no way could it be hidden.
"You ruined my jacket," Rod stated incredulously. Then his handsome face began wrinkling in anger. "You fucked up my fucking jacket! You bastard!"
Really? That's what he was upset about?
"It could be worse," he retorted. "It could have been skin instead."
Not hearing him, Rod was running at him again. Not unexpected but really, was this all this guy knew how to do? Reaching to a side, he snagged a dangling cable that rose up to the unfinished portion of the building and yanked on it. In the next second he was flying upwards, escaping Rod though it felt like his arm was almost yanked out of its socket. Hadn't expected that even though it had seemed like a good idea when he had set it up.
Oh, he had set this place up with some props that he felt would be a shame to waste. With advanced notice of when this little duel was to begin, he had had plenty of time to bring some notable items here. His ascent came to a stop and he extended a foot out to place on a large girder.
Below, he heard Rod yell up at him, "Get your ass back down here and fight me like a man you coward!"
Getting both feet down on a solid surface, he released the cable he had been holding and looked back down at Rod. "If you want to fight, how about you come up here?"
"Why the hell would I do that?" Rod shouted back at him.
Smirking, Bain moved out of Rod's sight for a moment. He returned momentarily, wheeling some back with him, something that ought to…provoke Rod into coming after him.
"Wait, is that my…" Rod trailed off.
"A gift, from me to you," he taunted as he pushed Rod's damaged motorcycle out from the unfinished third story and down to the earth below. Rod's wail of anguish was music to the sociopath's ears though the sudden crunch of metal cut it off. Still, it made him sad that he hadn't set up any recording equipment. The screams he was going to hear this night were going to be worth remembering.
He took a moment to pause, wondering how Christophe had managed to steal it in the first place and why he would leave it back at the warehouse where just anybody could take it. Oh well, the bike had remained at the warehouse even after all the time that had passed though it had taken him some time to figure out who the rightful owner had been.
"I'm gonna fucking kill you!" Rod roared at him, the larger teen beginning to scurry about, trying to find an entrance into the unfinished building.
"Not before I kill you first," he said to himself, withdrawing into the recesses of the construction site.
Not even completed and even Rod could tell that the place was starting to fall apart. How long had it been since anybody had been here? The place should be condemned for being a health hazard or something!
The crappy elevator didn't work so he had to take the stairs which he didn't put much faith into. Still, he managed to get to the higher floors though he had to guess which one the shrimp was hiding on. The second floor wasn't it and when he thought about it, the fourth seemed too high. The third would have to do unless this building was fucked up from the beginning.
Barging out of the stairwell, he scanned over the wide yet cluttered area of the floor, not seeing anything that remotely looked human. The little shit was hiding from him, huh?
"Where are you?" he bellowed, looking from side to side for any sign of his target.
Silence was his answer. Little bastard. He spotted a nail gun laying on the floor and snatched it up. A weapon seemed like a good idea at the moment, especially since it looked like the shrimp was trying to play psycho killer. Well, guess he had to show him just who around here was the real psycho.
A cold wind blew through the large openings in the unfinished walls, only one of which was close to being completed. It was getting chilly in here. Why'd he have to take off his jacket…oh wait, that shrimp had ruined it. Just for that, he was going to destroy his fucking face.
Something on the far side of the floor clattered and he spun towards the sound, raising the nail gun up and firing. Well, he would have shot something if anything had come out of it. Then he noticed the cable that fell from the nail gun's handle and he groaned at the realization that the damn thing wasn't plugged in. He threw it away, glaring around for any sign of the shrimp, his hands clenching and unclenching in anger.
A shadow fell over him and once again he spun around…but didn't see anyone around. Jesus Christ, he was starting to become paranoid. Something in his head, though, told him to look up and whether it was instinct or paranoia, Rod decided to humor it and looked up.
His jaw fell open, slacked from the ridiculous sight.
"You're still alive. It seems like I came in just in time," a masked and hooded teen said in a deep, gravelly voice. Rod had no idea who this was or why they even thought what they were wearing was fashionable because no matter how you looked at it, underwear was supposed to be worn under your clothes or spandex, not outside of it.
The hooded fashion disaster dropped down from their high perch, landing only a few feet away from Rod who, he still noted, was taller than this newcomer and… Why was there a question mark on his head? That was just…stupid.
"Come with me, Woods," the masked figure ordered. "It's not safe here."
Rod snorted. Oh, so whoever this was wanted to play hero, huh? Wait…
"Stupid outfit, shrimp," he sneered. "I'll give you props; trying to lull me with a stupid outfit so that you can stab me in the back is not a bad idea. Too bad I'm smarter than I look."
"I am not Bain," the masked figure threw back though there was a tinge of anger in that reply. "I'm here to help you Rod. You have no idea how much danger you are in."
"Trying to stay in character? Props, man, you'd be a good actor someday," Rod retorted. "I'd doubt they'd hire you after I get through with you!"
He swung his fist at the masked shrimp, the shrimp ducking and tackling him with his shoulder. He stumbled back and grabbed the shrimp by his shoulders and picked him up with ease. With a push of his arms, he threw the shrimp practically halfway across the floor but was disappointed when the shrimp landed on his hands and feet.
Like a fucking cat.
The masked shrimp glared up at him for a moment before his eyes widened and he shouted, "Behind you!"
"Like I'm falling for that—" Rod scoffed as he took a step towards him, barely missing something that whumped into the floor right where he had been standing.
Spinning around, he saw that mere inches had been all that separated him from the axe blade that was embedded into the floor. Jerking it out, there was the shrimp himself staring passively back at him as he held the axe with what looked like a practiced ease.
Wait, if the shrimp was right here then who was in the bad outfit behind him?
"Ignore the residential vigilante behind you," Bain said. "Unlike you and me, he has a high sense of morality and burning thirst for justice."
"So he's a Batman wannabe?" Rod asked, stepping away from the shrimp to put as much space between them as possible. "Now it makes sense."
"So we both agree on something," Bain smirked. "Too bad that's only temporary."
Mysterion acted quickly as he threw himself at Rod's broad back. Once again using his shoulder, he rammed into the larger teen, forcing him to stumble forward and straight into Bain who was attempting his own rush, his axe blade prepared to be swung at any moment. Bain's swing was aborted as Rod was physically too close for the axe blade to cleave into him and with the added momentum, Rod was falling over Bain.
Mysterion had hoped that perhaps he could abort whatever Bain had had in store for Rod but now it looked like he was more than a little late. Now he had to neutralize two psychopaths before they could hurt one another. The only way to do that was for him to hurt them until they couldn't possibly move.
How he hated violence.
Bain was shoving Rod off of him and the vigilante took the opportunity to stomp down on the axe handle preventing the shorter of the three from picking it up. Balling a gloved fist, he decked the sociopath as he turned to glare up at him. Oh, that felt good…
He blocked a sudden blow coming from Rod who had apparently decided that everyone was against him and that the only way out was to beat them into submission. He could see the muscles in Rod's bare arm tense and flex as a second fist came at him. He ducked but was then double-teamed by Bain as a booted foot nailed him in the gut.
Now that his foot was off the axe handle, Bain grabbed the weapon and swung it towards Rod who caught it in interception. With a jerk, Rod pulled the axe out of Bain's grasp and flung it away from them, the axe vanishing from sight as it clattered on the floor. Meanwhile, Bain rolled backwards onto his back, legs folded against his stomach which then shot out to slam into Rod's stomach.
Mysterion watched with a little envy how Rod didn't stumble back or grab at his gut in pain though he did grab Bain's ankles. Spinning on his heels, Rod began swinging Bain like a windmill propeller, releasing him and sending Bain flying away to slam into a bunch of bags of powdered concrete.
Reentering into the macabre battle, Mysterion leap high into the air, clenching his hands together with fingers intertwined to level a jackhammer right onto Rod's head. Rod bent over but stole Mysterion's advantage, grabbing him as he starting into a run, carrying the vigilante over into a metal girder.
Mysterion saw stars for a moment as his head rattled against the metal post but he was not completely out of it as he was aware that Rod was throwing another fist at him. He jerked his head to a side, wincing in sympathy as Rod's fist hit the unyielding girder with a dull ring.
Rod pulled away, clutching at his bleeding hand and yelling a muffled, "Fuck!"
Grabbing the sides of the girder, Mysterion pulled his legs up in an eerie reminiscent of Bain, shooting both of his feet out to nail Rod in the face. As Rod toppled backwards, he tripped and fell onto his back. Panting slightly, Mysterion looked over to where he had last seen Bain and swore when the small form was missing. Where was he now?
An arm snaked from behind the girder he was still against and captured his throat. Reacting quickly, Mysterion caught the large hunting knife that was coming in to make friends with his chest.
"Why do you always have to interfere?" Bain growled out from behind the girder.
Mysterion said nothing in reply as the large knife inched its way closer and closer to his body. Okay, how would you go about disarming a knife from this position? Bain's arm around his neck wasn't doing him any good as it was slightly blocking his airway, making it a bit hard to breath. Meanwhile, the knife was coming closer and closer by the second and he was starting to lose strength due to the lack of air.
There were heavy footsteps ahead of him and he glanced away from the knife for a second to see that Rod was back on his feet and directing his anger towards him. If this was how this guy was going to thank him for trying to save his life, he might as well let Bain have him. Still, his sense of right and wrong urged him to continue fighting, even if this guy was a colossal dick.
Also noticing Rod's approach, Bain whipped his knife away just as Rod landed one in the vigilante's gut. Mysterion felt the air whoosh out of his lungs, his eyes bulging from the blow. Clenching his teeth, he acted fast, slapping both of his hands on either side of Rod's head and pulling it closer to him so that he could headbutt the asshole.
Sharp pain in his skull but he pushed it aside easily, something you could do after fucking up on the job one too many times (and living), to focus more on the matter at hand. As Rod held his head, Mysterion jumped onto him, legs wrapping around the larger blond's torso, one hand gripping the front of the black tank top, and the other hand repeatedly bashing itself into Rod's face.
After a fifth or sixth hit, he put his hands on Rod's shoulders and released his leg-hold on Rod's torso. Pushing himself up, like a freaking gymnast he balanced himself above the hulk beneath him, his body ramrod straight. Then he let gravity take over, letting his body lean past his center of gravity but angled a foot in just a way that he kicked his heel into the small of Rod's back. With that same foot, he pushed off and put a few feet between them, spinning around so that he could face the other.
On a knee, Rod held a hand to his back, grimacing as he glared back at Mysterion. Out of the blond's eyesight, Bain approached, the large knife in hand and, as Mysterion feared, ready to plunge into Rod's body. No one was dying today, not on his watch, he swore and he was diving back into the fray.
Using Rod's hunched form as a stepping stone and knocking that stupid hat off the blond's head, he launched himself straight into Bain, grasping Bain's knife hand as he grappled with the teen. Shoving Bain back into a pile of bagged concrete, Bain rolled them around so that he was pushing the knife down towards the hero.
"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" Bain snarled down at him.
"And let you psychos have all the fun?" Mysterion replied grimly. "Not a chance." Grabbing Bain by his shoulder, he rolled them over again and reversed the direction Bain's knife was going in. "Give it up Bain. I'm not going to let you kill anyone."
Another rollover and reversal of the knife. "That's what you think," Bain growled back.
Then Bain was pulled back and away from Mysterion and the hero blinked stupidly at the sudden absence. Above him, Rod held a kicking and squirming Bain by his upper arms. Leaning back, the muscled teen threw Bain straight up into an above head girder, Bain impacting it with his chest before falling back to the third story and landing on his back.
Grasping the front of Bain's shirt, Rod pulled him back up, cocking an arm back that would undoubtedly unleash a devastating punch.
"Hold it right there evil doers!"
Rod and Bain stopped, Bain dangling from Rod's hold and Rod frozen in place. Even Mysterion found himself blinking at that. There were only three people here that he was aware of and it hadn't been him who had said anything. He'd even gave a shrug to the other two who looked over at him, wondering why he would say something so corny.
"Hey! Up here!"
As if guided to the source of this new voice, the three of them looked up and simultaneously felt their jaws slacken.
Looking down at the three, a gaudily dressed figure posed dramatically. It was like looking at a train wreck; it was horrible to see but you just couldn't look away…
Whoever it was, they were dressed in tight leather with stitch marks patterned asymmetrically. Tuffs of what looked like purple fur that seemed to be glued in random places made the figure look more demented that awe- or fear-inspiring. The person's head was uncovered with the exception of two cloth cat ears that looked like they were made from scrap cloth and patched together. At least the domino mask looked decent but you kinda had trouble seeing it with the person's long brown hair and the pink highlights interwoven into the locks and—
Oh no. She didn't. This wasn't who he was thinking…no, no, this was not happening. He thought he had already dealt with her! She was suppose to be home, not out here where the maniacs roamed!
"Who the hell are you?" both Bain and Rod asked at the same time, unaware that the other was speaking or saying the same thing.
"I'm glad you asked that," the now-obvious female gloated, her ego inflating. "I am—"
"Michele Pfeiffer?" Rod asked hopefully.
The female looked affronted at that. "No, not Goddamn Michele Pfeiffer!" she screeched, stopping shortly to regain her composer.
"Aww…" Rod whined.
"No, I am the creature that stalks the wickedness in men. Caretaker of the meek and oppressed. Evil shudders and whimpers before the terror of my claws. No alleyway is unprotected so long as I prowl them. I dine on the scumbags of society and FancyFeast™. I bathe in the blood and drool of my fallen victims and rub against the legs of the innocent, demanding a gratifying pet. I protect the innocent, strike fear in the hearts of criminals, and stand up for the girls who just want their Spiderman kiss."
"GET ON WITH IT!" a multitude of voices from all over South Park bellowed.
"Sorry," the girl said meekly before regaining her previous confidence. "Who am I? I. Am. Catwoman!"
"Lame," Rod said.
"Plagiarism," Bain followed up.
"DC Comics," Mysterion added.
"God fucking damn it!" the self-proclaimed "Catwoman" yelled. Pausing for a second, she said, "Shouldn't that be copyright infringement and not plagiarism?"
"No, you're an outright copy of Michele Pfeiffer from Batman Returns minus the fur," Bain deadpanned. "You just committed what tens of college students and professors commit every year. Try again before you get charged with a misdemeanor and sued."
"Okay…uh…Black Cat!" the renamed "Black Cat" announced.
"Boring," Rod yawned.
"Copyright Infringement," Bain followed up.
"Marvel Comics," Mysterion added.
"Mary Jane?"
"Weed," Rod said.
"Copyright infringement," Bain followed up.
"Marvel Comics," Mysterion added. "FYI, she's not superhero."
"Why don't you come up with something that's original?" Bain suggested. "Take your time. We'll wait. Wow us."
"Fine!" the ambiguously named heroine shouted.
"What are the odds she'll come up with something good?" Rod asked the other two people there with Y chromosomes.
"One in fifty," Mysterion answered. "The names she has given us are completely subpar and have no imagination."
"That coming from the Batman knockoff?" Bain challenged.
"You should try coming up with a name for an alter ego," Mysterion shot back. "It'd be better than being named after a South American wrestler with tubes in the back of his head."
"He's got you there shrimp," Rod smirked.
Bain paused for a moment than grimaced. "Well forgive me for having a father who wanted me to be a professional football player."
"Where you have failed him so epically," Mysterion replied.
"Hey! It's not easy having a father with high expectations!" Rod protested.
"How dare you give this Neanderthal reject and I common cause!" Bain accused.
"Yeah!" Rod agreed then stopped. "Wait."
"Ay! Stop treating me like I'm some joke!" the superheroine interrupted. "I just came up with a purr-fect name!"
"Great, she's doing cat puns," Rod grumbled.
"I. Am. Kitty…uh…Girl!" the now named Kitty Girl proclaimed.
All together now…
"Super lame," the three guys deadpanned.
"Perhaps you ought to stick with Catwoman and risked Tim Burton suing your ass," Bain added. "What, did you think for three seconds and give up?"
"I put a lot of thought into that name!" Kitty Girl protested.
Looks like she didn't have many to work with, Mysterion supposed. Wincing, he berated himself. He should not be knocking on innocent bystanders no matter how deluded they were.
Passing by the construction site, Cartman was pouting to himself as he hoarded an opened bag of Cheezy Poofs to himself, dismayed by the fact that he hadn't much screentime recently. It wasn't fair! Why did he get to be neglected while everybody else got their own subplots and character development and—huh? Was someone talking over there?
Coming to a stop, he backed up and peered over at the site where he thought he had heard voices.
His eyes widened and he dropped his precious bag.
Oh my God. There was the villainous Mysterion! And wait…were those…? It was that new kid Rod and that short asshole Bain! Jesus Christ, they were making an unholy alliance, an Axis of Evil if you will. And up there, there was someone else…who the hell was it and why was he reminded of Michele Pfeiffer?
Never mind, he needed to get home! This looked like a job for…
The Coon!
This…this was not going at all like she had planned it. Here she was, ready and pumped to lend a hand to the hero she adored when it looked like he needed a hand. And there with him, not one but two bad guys. Two against one were not very good odds.
But…why was he and the bad guys making fun of her to her face? It maddened her and she swore that she was going to show them not to underestimate her. Sure, she had a stumble with her name but damn it, she was totally serious right now. She could figure out a name later; for now she would be Kitty…Girl but she would make both of those bad guys down there regret taking her lightly.
Reaching back she yanked on a cable that was attached to her back and called out, "Is my wire-fighting crew ready back there?"
"Crew? I'm the only one down here you asshole!" Mari shouted back.
"Right," Roxi…Kitty Girl stated, getting into the game. Then declaring out to the baddies before her, "Beware servants of evil and cower before my might!"
She leapt off her perch, readying her legs for a one-two kick action. She felt the cable behind her tighten and pull back, slowing her descent enough so that she could take aim. Muscles braced and then her legs lashed out, kicking them out in what would undoubtedly be devastating blows that would fell both of her enemies.
Devastating blows that didn't reach either of the criminals as she didn't quite reach them, a good couple feet existing between them and her feet. The two scumbags stared at her, giving her odd looks as if wondering what she was trying to do. Really, why weren't they cooperating with her? She needed to make a good impression on Mysterion!
"Uh, good you guys move closer by three feet?" she asked them. "You're standing too far away."
She narrowed her eyes as the tall blond one whose jaw dropped open…hey, he kinda looked like Rod. Wow, and he was buff too. And the guy he was holding looked like that creepy Bain guy from school and he was looking at her with…disgust? Hatred? She couldn't really tell.
The Bain lookalike suddenly rammed the heel of his palm into the side of the Rod lookalike's face and kicked one of his feet right into the guy's gonads. She winced in sympathy as the Rod lookalike squeaked in pain. The Rod lookalike's grip on the Bain lookalike slipped and the smaller of the criminal's took the opportunity given to him to grab the taller, bent over criminal's head and bash it against his knee.
Shoving the Rod lookalike away, the lookalike coming to a stop at a surprised Mysterion's feet, the Bain lookalike launched himself into the air and tackled her. Roxi—Kitty Girl wasn't sure if there was a cry of surprise that came from far away and sounded a bit like Mari—her wire-fighting team or if it was from herself.
The Bain lookalike shoved himself off of her and snatched the cable that had allowed her to do her totally awesome fighting technique, and pulled down on it. Using the excess cable he had received from the pull, he used it to wrap around her neck and pull her up onto her feet, the tip of a large knife slightly pressing itself into the underbelly of her chin.
She found herself stiffening as the Bain lookalike hissed into her ear, "You have balls doing this, bitch. How come every time a guy dresses up like a Batman knockoff, some girl gets it into her head that she can not only do the same thing but do it better?"
She would have struggled, really, but there was that knife that was so close to her head…and she didn't know if her jugular artery went into her lower jaw or not. Hold up for a second, why was this Bain lookalike also talking like Bain from school? Just because he looked like him didn't mean that he…was…him…oh Christ this wasn't a lookalike, was it?
"I should gut you like a fucking fish," the real Bain growled at her as he began backing up and taking her with him. "You're out of your league."
This was…great, wasn't it? She wasn't taking on a criminal but a supervillain. She just needed to turn this around now, didn't she? The cable around her neck started going taut, probably because her wire-fighting team had recovered but now was not a good time for that.
Snarling, Bain removed the knife from under her chin and used it to slice the cable above her head and that was the opening she needed to stomp down on his foot and push away from him. Spinning around, she let out a feline hiss and swiped at him, her fingers curved as if they were claws.
Was it a bad time to realize that she had nothing sharp at the ends of her fingers? Yeah, this costume was…well, it was still being made. She made a mental note to herself to find some kind of sharp, metal instrument that was small and could be placed on a fingertip.
Bain snorted at her, snatching her extended arm by the wrist and pulling it away, striking her with the butt of his knife right in the side of her face. Pain seemed to explode in her head as Bain had not held anything back. She hadn't considered the possibility that she would have been hit at any time but as it seemed to be, she was learning just how hard it was to be a heroic vigilante.
The hard way naturally.
Excuse the pun.
A foot slammed into her stomach and as she was unprepared for it, it did some damage to her. As she felt like she was coughing up a lung, she crouched on the floor, holding her stomach in agony, waiting for the next blow to come which it never did. She looked up from where she was and watched in awe as Mysterion grappled with Bain, fighting for the deadly weapon that he held.
She winced as Bain elbowed Mysterion in the head and pushed him away, turning away from the hero and snatching the forgotten cable once again, along with her. With a mighty shove, he pushed her harshly and only at the last second, she realized that she was heading for the edge of the third floor.
The edge which did not have a wall but a gaping maw that would be leading to a mighty big fall and certain pain.
She tried to slow down, really she did, but when it seemed like she was about to go plunging out into certain death, she managed to spin on her heel and grab the cable which Bain still held, jerking to a halt to which she was leaning out into the stormy outside, her feet pressed dangerously against a revealed metal girder. It was a dangerous balancing act here and the one person keeping her from falling into the abyss was the very person most likely to be voted to have no mercy.
Bain, however, was not looking at her but at Mysterion who was now regarding him warily. She couldn't see Bain's face as he was faced away but from the way Mysterion was glaring at the guy, it must have been something that only a crazed supervillain would have.
"She has nothing to do with this," Mysterion stated. "She's in over her head."
"But that didn't stop her from interrupting us, did it?" Bain countered, loosening his grip on the cable slightly, turning Kitty Girl's state of being frightened for her life to scared shitless. "She should be made to realize the error of her arrogance, wouldn't you agree?"
"You won't," Mysterion stated.
"I would," Bain replied, an answer that really sent shivers up Kitty Girl's spine.
"Don't hurt her, just let her go," Mysterion tried to argue.
Bain's head tilted slightly and was it her or did he make an "ooh" sound? You know, the kind of "ooh" that meant "you didn't just say that".
"Not to rip off Christophe Nolan but very poor choice of words," Bain said.
Behind her, there was a flash of lightning and the next thing she knew, gravity had taken hold of her.
The lightning bolt flashing through the sky outside could not have come at a better time to underscore the depravity within the sociopath. Mysterion, however, was not dwelling on it as he sprinted past Bain, arm outstretched to catch the rapidly disappearing cable with its precious load still holding onto it for dear life.
He managed to grab the frayed end but it was too late for him to stop as now he too was going over the edge. It was quick thinking that allowed him to grab onto the edge with his free hand but now he and the badly named Kitty Girl were in a new peril.
He did his best to tighten his unsure grip on the cable while looking up towards his other hand and noticing in dismay that he was slipping. His gloved hand was not proving to have any traction with the metal girder he was holding on to and it was only a matter of time until they were both falling.
Looking down at Kitty Girl, he spotted an open window that the girl could possibly get into, providing there was no glass in the way. He highly doubted there would be any as the rest of the building was incomplete. Unfortunately, the window was not directly below him but was a few feet to his right. He was going to have to swing her over to it.
He had to save her because unlike him, she didn't have any extra lives stored up anywhere.
"Listen to me!" he called down to her. Making sure he had her attention, he continued, "You see that opening over there? I'm going to swing you over to it and you're going to climb into it. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," she croaked out, looking as every bit afraid as she should be.
Slowly, he began to swing the arm that held the cable, straining with the action of doing so as he was practically hanging on to the girder above by his fingertips. He gritted his teeth as he exerted more and more strength, get her closer and closer to the window with each swing until she managed to get a foot into the opening.
"I got it!" she cried out to him.
Good. Now he couldn't feel guilty…
And now air was buffeting all around him as his grip failed him and he fell towards the rapidly approaching ground below. He released the cable from his other hand, not wanting to unintentionally drag the girl out of the glassless window. He could hear her cry out his name but he ignored it in favor of bracing himself for impact in three…
Two…
One—
Ow. Ow. Ow ow ow ow OW OW OW OW OW BITCH!
Apparently there wasn't just earth beneath him. A water pipe was now impaled through his body and the world was slowly fading away…
A few moments later, Kitty Girl rushed out of the under construction building, frantically looking for the place where her hero had landed.
Drops of water were beginning to fall from the sky but that wouldn't deter her from finding the man that had just saved her life and not even Mari could get her to stop after the other girl had discovered her running around like a maniac.
And then, as if her eyes were drawn there, she found him. She felt her heart drop as she saw him lying on the ground but what really was the cincher here was that ugly water pipe sticking out of his chest. He…he hadn't landed on it…had he?
She was at his side in an instant, keeping her eyes from lingering on the bloody pipe and training them on Mysterion's peaceful face. It was almost surreal in a way. He didn't look so harsh or dark anymore. It was like he had made peace with this life and had let it go when the time…had…came…
Tears welled up in her eyes but she refused to let them flow. Instead, she took the domino mask off, disregarding Kitty Girl so that now there was only Roxi. She…she could remove his mask now and find out once and for all just who it was that was beneath the mask…
She couldn't do it. She just couldn't. It wouldn't be right, not like this.
Leaning over him, his head now in her lap, she looked at his lips curiously and slowly began to descend towards them. This wasn't the kind of kiss she had been looking for but…the time just felt right, you know?
It was almost like he was still alive how those lips seem to part as hers grew closer and closer to them until…
There was an odd choking sound coming from Mysterion's throat and the next thing Roxi knew, a spurt of blood shot out from those angelic lips and right into her face. She flung her head back and away from Mysterion's shocked and appalled at the latest denial in her quest for her Spiderman kiss.
"Goddamn it!"
The rain was starting to come down now. After what had seemed like hours of waiting for it to come, it had finally came which was not greeted happily by the pair that was slowly making its way to a certain construction site.
Every fiber of Charlie's being was screaming at her to find some kind of niche or hole in the ground to curl up in and wait out the storm but for perhaps the first time in her life, she was resisting that siren call.
Not one of her better ideas, mind you, but she had something to do out here.
The thunder and lightning, though, were really good at what it did best, which was scare the shit out of her. Fighting against the fear that reared up with each roar of thunder or streak of lightning was a monumental struggle with each boom and flash that she either saw or heard. It was a struggle that became more and more demanding with each one and even she knew that she was running out of the will necessary to go out in this shit.
Was it ego that was prompting her to come out here? Was it the fact that her word actually meant something and when she said she was going to be somewhere, she was going to be somewhere? Or was it just her being incredibly stupid that she didn't know when to call it quits?
It was questions that were better left to smarter minds than hers but in the meantime, she was venturing out into this little piece of hell, using Sunny as a quasi-crutch to do so. Neither had a car at their disposal and Bain was enough of a dick to make it hard for her to take his. That left walking as the only other option. An option that would take them into downtown South Park. In the middle of the fucking storm of the century.
Oy.
They were practically at the fence line of the site when Charlie found her knees giving out. Fear had finally struck at her mobility but she refused to kneel, using Sunny to keep her upright while the other girl struggled against her weight.
As she had done for practically the whole ordeal, she adjusted the suck-ass ear plugs she wore, slightly peeved that they weren't keeping out all the sound. Who knew Bain kept a bowl of them in his room? You learned something new every day.
"Are we there?" Sunny managed to gasp out though hers was more from physical exhaustion than it was from psychological strain.
"Yeah," Charlie grunted. "We're here."
Damn, she sure chose an ominous looking place to have a showdown. Now where the hell were those assholes in there?
A scream jolted the two girls and Charlie thought to herself that that scream was a bit feminine. Who the hell was here and why were they invited when all she got was a choke hold?
"Come on," she ordered Sunny. "We're going in."
Bain watched with sharp eyes as Rod pushed himself up onto his knees, the shorter teen taking small, casual steps towards the other. He toyed with Winslow, never taking his eyes off Rod for a second as he pondered how things had gotten to this point.
"You know," he began speaking, "I had originally wanted to lure you up here so that perhaps I could fake your own suicide. It was simple getting you up here, wasn't it? Destroying that Harley of yours insured you would come up here but once you arrived, we had to have a party crasher. Now you have all sorts of signs of there being an assault."
He sighed, more than a little ticked off that McCormick had to ruin such a brilliantly conceived planned. There would be police coming here to investigate a body and they would find the signs of a fight being there. It would call into question there being a suicide. He learned from his crimes, thank you very much. Even though there was no effort made with the murder of their previous principal, he knew that there would have been less suspicion if it had appeared Estrada had hung himself in his office, leaving a note behind that he himself was responsible for the freezing of the school.
Sadly, he hadn't thought to do that at the time, what with him being pissed off and hungry for a little revenge. He had hoped to ply what he had learned and what he had come up with here but no, he had to be denied again.
"Oh well," he shrugged. "Everything's fucked up now; let's go the whole nine yards."
The whole nine yards could have meant anything at this point but for this set of circumstances, it involved stabbing Winslow straight into some part of Rod. Now there would be signs of a knife being used in the assault.
Philosophy aside, Winslow did indeed stab Rod and the place Rod was stabbed was in his back.
Rod cried out but twisted his waist enough that he threw a punch right into Bain's gut. Grunting as he moved back from Rod, Winslow still in Rod's back, he found he had his hands full when it turned out that knifing the bastard actually galvanized him into an almost berserker state.
Bain decided to take advantage of his shorter, more lithe form and dodge all the punches Rod was swinging at him, slightly fearing that one of those punches might do more than knock his block off. The way the blond's face was contorted with anger, it would be best to let him wear himself out before going in for the kill…
That had been the plan but before it could last ten seconds, it too was ruined like his previous one. Rod caught the end of his trenchcoat the pulled back on it and Bain found Rod's fist barreling down on him with no possibility for escape this time.
He closed his eyes in anticipation and was not disappointed with what felt like a freight train ramming the right side of his cheek. His head flopped around when it became apparent that Rod's punch wasn't strong enough to decapitate him but perhaps that would have been a blessing.
Rod scooped his body with a muscled arm and forced him into a vertically standing girder. Maneuvering the arm so now that it was holding him up against the metal beam, Rod rammed another punch into his gut and then another, not giving him the time to try and regain the air that left his body.
A third blow and then a fourth to his face and Bain was seeing stars as the back of his head slammed against the girder he was pressed against. The next thing he was aware of, he was flying through the air before coming to a jarring halt on the floor, sliding a bit until he stopped just before the edge of the third story. Any further and it would have been his turn to fall out to the unwelcoming earth below.
There were stomps that seemed louder than the thunder and rain outside and then the vertically challenged sociopath felt something wrapping around his neck and squeezing. He choked, cracking open his eyes to see Rod hovering over him, the behemoth's hands strangling him without mercy.
Bain tried to kick his legs but it was a pathetic display of resistance as the best he could go for were Rod's legs and those were as thick as tree trunks, most likely strong as one too. Rod was focused on the task at hand and Bain was slightly disappointed that there wasn't any banter coming from the physically stronger teen. He coughed, finding it harder and harder to get the necessary oxygen he needed to live.
Blast it all, nothing had gone right tonight. And to think, this was how it was going to end. He would have preferred the apples to this. Funny, he was starting to black out for a second at a time and every time he did, he could see those red monstrosities bearing down on him. Crushing him so, so slowly…
There was a crack, one that sounded nothing like lightning, and suddenly Rod's grip on his neck had loosened dramatically along with a piece of wood bouncing off Bain's head. Precious air returned to his lungs and he sucked it all in greedily. Meanwhile, Rod was holding himself up by an arm, his hand pressed down on the floor to keep him from falling over.
Slowly, Bain made out movement as Rod slowly turned his head towards something behind him and Bain found he had to scoot his head over a bit, nudging the same piece of wood that had bounced off him a second ago. There behind Rod's mammoth back was that Sunny girl who was holding the broken off end of a two-by-four and watching Rod nervously as the teen stood up from his crouched position.
As the blond advanced on that pink blurb, Bain pushed himself up slightly as he gasped and panted, a hand touching his neck gingerly. A flash of lightning lit their surroundings up a bit and Bain's eyes immediately honed in on Winslow, the light glinting off its blade even though it was still sticking out of Rod's back.
"You're so annoying you little fuck," Rod hissed at the pink-haired girl. He grabbed the girl's broken two-by-four and tore it out of her hands, bringing his other hand back and then lashing it out, bitchslapping the girl silly. "I should have wasted your ass when I fucked you."
Bain took his chance. He shot up and threw himself onto Rod's back, grabbing Winslow's handle and yanking it out. Rod let out a cry of surprise but before he could try and grab him again, Bain let himself fall off the giant bastard, landing into a crouch.
Reversing his hold on Winslow, he threw his arm out between Rod's legs and stabbed upwards, Winslow slicing straight up into Rod's groin. Rod's scream was not loud as it was more high in pitch, a prolonged squeal of agony as Bain twisted Winslow, further destroying the one area of Rod's body that the blond adored so much.
With a last burst of effort, Bain grabbed the back of Rod's tank top and pulled back with all the might he had left in him. Disabled by the devastating wound in his groin, Rod fell backwards easily, Bain ducking between and under his legs. Unfortunately for Rod, there wasn't any floor for him to land on as he fell out of the unfinished building, gravity taking hold of him and plummeting him down to the ground below.
There was a loud crash and then silence, the only sound being those of the thunder and the rain pitter-pattering on everything not sheltered.
Slowly, Bain peeked over the edge, spotting Rod easily as the teen had landed on top of his totaled motorcycle and he was wasn't moving. He wasn't sure but it looked to him that Rod's head was at an unnatural angle with his body but he'd have to get a closer look for confirmation.
He was soon reminded that he wasn't quite alone as the sound of harsh breathing caught his attention, which he turned towards the Sunny girl who was staring at him like he was something she had never seen before. She had one of her hands pressed to a cheek, one that was more than likely going to swell into a large bruise. Not that she would be alone; he'd have a matching one.
"What are you doing here?" he rasped out, reminded of his throttling from earlier. He pressed his hand against his throat, rubbing it to try and relieve some of the trauma inflicted on it.
"Charlie," the Sunny girl said. "She…she wanted to come."
Immediately scanning the area, he spotted Charlotte near the stairwell, clutching onto the doorframe as if it was her only lifeline.
That fucking idiot.
Growling (and wincing from the shot of pain that followed) Bain got back onto his feet and marched over to the future winner of the Darwin Award, shrugging off his trenchcoat as he moved. Reaching Charlotte, he whipped the coat around her head, blocking the sight of the storm from without and placing his hands over her ears.
He found himself groaning involuntarily as one arm and then the other attached themselves to him, Charlotte's covered head resting itself on his shoulder. He might want to get himself checked out; he might have a bruised rib or something.
Glancing down at the girl who had stupidly disobeyed him, he rolled his eyes as he suppressed the urge to put her out of her misery. It'd be simple too; she was in no state of mind to resist him.
The things he did for this twit…his twit.
Aware that Sunny was approaching them, he looked up at her, demanding to know what else she wanted, this is if there was anything else she could want.
"What?" he snapped, his voice incredibly hoarse.
To his bewilderment, the girl looked at him shyly, her arms hiding themselves behind her back while one of her feet scuffled the floor.
"Can…can I have your autograph?" the Sunny girl asked hopefully. "I-I've…I've never got to…see a slasher in action…in p-person before…"
If there was a God up there, it would be a good time to strike him down. Now.
It was almost strange the way Rod just laid upon that heap of twisted metal, Sunny found.
It was obvious, now that she was up close, to see that his neck was broken but that wasn't what hailed her attention. It was the blood that leaked from his mouth, from the gash on his head, from the open wound in his crotch and from the arm in which a broken bone could be seen spearing through the skin.
And then there was the motorcycle. It seemed like it had only been a few days ago that he had been riding on, driving it out of the girl's fortress of solitude with her hanging onto him from behind.
And now here laid the valiant "knight" on top his "stead," broken and defeated while the "dragon" remained alive and at large. She could remember the day she had first met him but never in his mind could she have ever imagined that this was where it would lead.
But he wasn't a valiant knight. He wasn't even valiant or a knight. She knew better now and that looks were more than just deceiving; they could be flat-out lies. Rod…had been a perfect example of that for her.
Maybe she was struck with an epiphany then or maybe she had realized something she always knew. Whatever it was, she was looking away from the conquered monster and towards the impassive "dragon" that took the form of Bain Cynis who didn't even spare her a glance. With a small smile, she followed after him and Charlie as they trekked out into the storm.
She had always been more a "dragon" fan anyway.
Shielded from the acidic barrier that was surely placed as an obstacle to fend him off, the true hero of South Park arrived on the scene, clawed fingers ready and willing to cut open any rapist or murderer that got in their way.
"Fear not! It is the Coon! Here to save the day and make the villains pay!" The Coon announced, the Coon Umbrella held in one hand to protect him from the falling drops of acid. "Say, that's not bad…I ought to get that copyrighted as my catchphrase."
Legal ramifications aside, it was time for The Coon to shine and once again show the folks of this town that he was its true savior…
Uh, was that a dead body over there? It kinda looked like that Rod asshole from school. As he knelt down to get a better look at it, tires came to a screeching halt nearby as a cop car with flashing lights came onto the scene.
The next thing The Coon knew, his allies in law enforcement were aiming their guns at him.
"Freeze Bruce Vilanch! Step away from the body and put your hands up!"
Realizing what this looked like, The Coon scowled. Very clever, he silently told his unknown nemesis though he had a feeling it was Mysterion or Kyle who was behind this. Framing him for murder so that he would be isolated and hunted by the very people he was trying to protect.
"I did not do this!" he shouted to his misguided allies. "I am on your side!"
"Save it for the judge, Vilanch," one of the cops yelled back. "Hopefully he won't think you're insane because of that ridiculous rat costume you're wearing."
Motherfucker.
Damien was pouting as he stared grimly out into the stormy night. He was alone now, having dismissed Azazel after his demonic servant had informed him of tonight's proceedings.
So his babysitter's mortal coil was unshuffled and the handsome rapist of South Park was on his way down to his father's kingdom. Not how he had hoped things would have turned out.
Then again…this might be for the better. Despite the events of this evening, nothing had changed. His own plans were still advancing and no one was even aware of them. So long as he kept his mouth shut about having this storm come in unexpectedly, Charlie would be none the wiser to his attempted assassination.
However, he would have to keep an eye on her little boy toy. Though he doubted the damned mortal could do anything to him, it didn't hurt to make sure that a potential kink didn't cause everything to fall apart.
Next time, Charlie. Next time.
