Different World

A/N: Many thanks to my sister (Society's Cavity) for coming up with the idea of the koi pond filled with blood. I'm not twisted enough to have thought of that on my own. Oh, sorry about the rating change, I swear it wasn't my fault! Well, maybe just a little. Anyways, please review, you have no idea how happy I am reading what you think.

Kyle followed Damien down to a part of South Park he didn't even know existed. Maybe it had been normal looking before, but Damien had obviously seen to that. Where most residents of South Park had trees, bushes, and flowers in their yards, Damien had rotted animal corpses, a pond which had blood instead of water and was filled solely with dead fish, plus a choir of should-be dead men that sang about whatever went past them. Damien noticed Kyle's gaping mouth as he stared at Damien's yard to which Damien snickered.

"Dad keeps them around to sing advice about his relationships," Damien commented casually to Kyle about the singing corpses. Kyle's jaw dropped open more, but it wasn't the dancing dead that had done it. Damien had mentioned his father – surely he wasn't living here in South Park with Damien?

Kyle tried to swallow down his nervousness – which was really just some spit in his mouth – as Damien led him to the front door. All reasoning why heading back to Damien's place seemed like a good idea had long left his mind. When Damien pulled open the door Kyle's mouth must've fallen to the floor from shock.

"This is my house," Damien said slowly, as if daring Kyle to make fun of it. It had to be said: Damien's house was the fruitiest place he'd ever been in. The house theme seemed to be... pink. Lots and lots of... pink.

"'Ey guy, relax! Who's your little friend?" Damien's eyes were burning fire at the sight of his father's current boyfriend he'd gone back to – Saddam Hussein. Kyle actually seemed incapable of breathing at the sight that greeted him – amongst the pink walls and flowers stood Satan and Saddam Hussein holding onto each other. Kyle really was turning into Stan... he had to clasp a hand to his mouth to avoid throwing up on a nice potted plant that was sitting in the corner.

Not that he hadn't seen either of the two before, back during the times of the war he'd witnessed as Satan killed Saddam, but holy crap, they were a couple now? "Hey Dad," Damien greeted coldly, not acknowledging the old Iraq dictator despite that he was standing right in front of him. Could the position Kyle found himself in be more awkward?

"Inegh..." the sophistication Kyle showed off made Damien's attention snap back to Kyle and why he was here. With a scowl at his father's taste in men, Damien dragged Kyle up to a room that didn't fit with the rest of the house, but more resembled the front yard. Black walls that were slashed with something that horribly resembled blood, and the only light in the room came from dim candles. Kyle decided to not take a careful look around the room, there were probably things he didn't want to see.

"Right, talking is useless, I thought I'd give you something to cheer you up," Damien said in a much lighter tone than when he was downstairs, though it still held some of the regular tenseness. Returning back to the appreciative feeling, Kyle offered a grin that surprisingly was returned. He didn't pause to think that what would cheer someone like Damien up probably wouldn't make himself happy.

Sure enough, Damien picked up a case from the floor which he opened and was filled with different kinds of knives. As if matching Kyle to his soul mate, he kept eyeing Kyle and then back to the blades, and finally selected one that made Kyle shift uneasily. "You'll like it, but don't go too deep," Damien offered with a snicker as he handed it to the reproachful looking boy.

"It's dangerous," Kyle stammered slowly as he turned it over in his hand nervously.

"Mmm, think what you want, but hold onto it incase you change your mind," Damien took the knife from his hand to slide it safely into Kyle's pocket where no one would notice it, because Kyle was probably stupid enough on his own to just walk around with it visibly in his hand. Although, if Officer Barbrady did see him, there wasn't really much to worry about. That police offer wasn't good for anything.... While Kyle was thinking this, Damien showed Kyle out without another word.

"Bye – uh – and thanks?" Kyle still seemed unsure and distracted, and he hardly noticed as Stan ran up to him as he walked back out Damien's front door, thankfully not noticing what Satan and Saddam were doing as he left.

"KYLE!" Finally Kyle noticed as Stan started yelling in his ear, "are you listening at all? What did he want?" Stan didn't even refer to Damien by his name, his Christian parents had probably taught him it was evil or something to speak it.

"He was just helping," Kyle said, not telling the full truth, but still not flat-out lying. Stan frowned and, as he always caught on quickly, his eyes shot to Kyle's pocket. Kyle didn't dress very baggy, nor did he dress tight, but there was still a faint crease where the blade was. Stan didn't hesitate before snatching it out of Kyle's pocket, looking more pissed off than Kyle had ever seen him.

"Wow, some kind of help Kyle!" As a reflex Kyle grabbed it back, flushing deeply. Not like he really wanted it, but Stan didn't need to over-react so much. "Were you actually going to use this to try to solve your problems?"

"No, I wasn't," Kyle stared at the disbelieving look on Stan's face to which he snorted. "You really should trust your friends." It was quite clear that Stan didn't trust Kyle, but Kyle acted as if he didn't notice this fact as he pocketed the knife once again. Stan would've preferred to keep it just to be safe, but Kyle wasn't one to mess with.

"Whatever, dude... do you want to spend the night at my house?"

"What about Christophe?"

"He doesn't spend the night," Stan said, pointing out the obvious. Stan's parents knew nothing about him and the Mole, but if he spent the night it could accidentally slip. Kyle realized this the second after he asked, but another thought nagged at his mind as Stan continued. "So how about it?"

"You're worried I'm going to use Damien's knife, aren't you?" Kyle asked suspiciously, really wishing occasionally someone would believe what he said. He tensed slightly at Stan's uncomfortable look, "I'll just head home, catch you later, Stan."

"Don't do anything dumb...." Stan muttered as Kyle headed back to his house. Kyle knew it was well past the time he should've gotten home, but he didn't care as he opened the door to his normal-looking house. His thoughts were still fixed on Damien's home and he was very grateful for the first time that his house wasn't pink.

As he headed up to his room, angry at everything, Kyle pulled the knife out of his pocket again. He turned it over repeatedly in his hand, contemplating what his next actions would be.