First off, I am so sorry I took so long to write this. I got sick for two weeks on and off and couldn't get anything done. Then there was the make-up work. Then I just started a job and track, which takes up all of my after-school and weekend time. Then I got the flu and it just would not leave and I had a bad reaction to the medicine. I tried to use vacation, but the holidays got in the way, too. Sorry on two levels: the excuses and the wait.
I wanted to do this in a one-shot, but as I wrote it out, it seemed so much better as a two-shot. Unfortunately, that shortens the first part down quite a bit, as it was meant as an introduction. It's not extraordinarily long, but I do hope it was amusing.
I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint anyone. The story really isn't based on Amityville Horror, I just needed a scary motivation. I saw it and it really got to me out, especially the bathroom scene, which is why I wrote this story. I had this one scene in my mind that I thought would be hilarious, and so I had to create a story to incorporate it, hence the story. You'll see it when you read it.
Summary: It was supposed to be just another sleepover…
Note to readers: Just so everyone knows, the boys are juniors in high school and can't drive yet, which is why they walk home (though Stan will get his license in a few months) and it's a Friday.
And yes, some of it may seem a little overdramatic, but when you're scared, you can get really paranoid.
Disclaimer: I don't own South Park. I don't own Mario Kart and I don't own NASCAR racing. I don't own Amityville Horror either, which I'm pretty grateful for, it was scary!
Paranoia Part Two
"AHHHHHHHH!"
"Kyle! Kyle, it's okay," Stan rushed over to his frantic friend and hugged him.
"No, Stan, its not okay! We're home alone in a blizzard worse then any blizzard before! The fatass is here, so we're gonna starve-"
"Ay!"
"-and why do we have to be careful? Why, Stan, why? Is there a killer on the loose? Why!"
Stan took the raving Kyle by his shoulder and shook him.
"God dammit, Jew. I knew we shouldn't have let you come."
Kenny elbowed Cartman in the ribs hard, effectively shutting him up and earning a very pissed-off glare.
Stan nodded his thanks over his shoulder to Kenny before turning back to his paranoid friend. "Kyle, you're letting your imagination get to you. Why don't you lay down and get some sleep? By tomorrow my mom and dad will be home and we can go build a snowman or something. It will be okay."
Kyle, as incoherent as he was, let Stan lead him upstairs to his bedroom. Stan motioned for Kyle to lay down as he took his wooden computer-desk chair and placed it beside the edge of his bed.
Kyle stared up at the blank ceiling for over ten minutes, praying for sleep to overcome him. He restlessly rolled over to face a sleeping Stan, who had laid his head on the bed. Kyle gently removed Stan's hat, which was about to fall off his head. Under his hat was the dark, thin hair that Stan had grown out to the point where you could see it from under the hat. But Stan barely ever removed his hat, even less then he did when they were kids. Kyle absentmindedly stroked Stan's soft black hair, watching the snow fall lightly onto the window.
Stan jolted awake as he felt his hair being ripped from his head. He looked around wildly, finding Kyle grasping onto Stan's hat for dear life and clutching his knees to his chest, pressed up against the corner where the wall and his bed met.
"Dude, what happened?" Stan asked slightly irritated and very confused.
Kyle managed to point a shaky finger towards the window, his eyes wide with fear.
Stan got up and walked over to the window. He couldn't see out of it, but as he approached the window, he saw long, deep scratches and droplets of blood embedded into the window.
"Holy shit…" Stan backed away from the window slowly, "Holy…Kyle, did you see…?"
Kyle nodded fearfully. Stan walked quickly to his friend and embraced him, half in fear and half in comfort.
"Your…your hat…" Kyle managed to say after a few awkward moments of silence, abruptly shoving it at his friend.
Stan blinked in confusion. He touched his head and found his hair was free from its usual woolen confines.
He snatched the hat and stared at it, but didn't put it back on. "Thanks."
Kyle nodded. Noticing Stan wasn't putting on the hat, he hesitantly reached out and touched the black hair. Very few people saw Stan without his hat. Not his parents. Not his friends. Not Shelly when she beat him up, though that didn't happen often anymore. Not Wendy, she had claimed Stan was always hiding something from her, like his hair, before she dumped him for Clyde two years ago. Not even Kyle. But Kyle had seen it the most. This made the fourth time since they left the South Park Elementary School.
And this, this felt right.
Ignoring the growing blush, Stan stood up and held out a hand to Kyle. "We should tell Kenny and Cartman about-" Stan stopped short, not sure how to approach the terrifying advancements and just quickly darted his glance to the window.
Kyle took his hand and got up, attempting to lead his friend downstairs in order to regain some control over the situation. For a second, both boys stood next to the bed, holding hands, unsure of anything.
Kyle released Stan's hand and whispered a thank you before exiting the room and calling out for Kenny and the 'fatass'.
"So you're trying to tell me that there were scratches with blood in them in your window?"
"Yes."
"Like actual scratches in the window?"
"…yes."
"With blood in it?"
"(Goddamit, Cartman! What part don't you understand?)"
"Geez, Kenny. You don't have to go and spazz out on me or anything. I was just asking a few questions."
Kenny tightened his fists and muttered a string of incoherent curses while falling onto the couch in the living room.
"I totally agree," Kyle told Kenny as Stan rolled his eyes.
The boys sat in a circle for quite some time playing card games and entertaining themselves with mindless drabbles. For ten minutes, Kyle had been looking uncomfortable. Stan, noticing his best friend's discomfort asked what was wrong.
Kyle leaned over and whispered into his ear, his warm breath tickling Stan's ear. "I have to go to the bathroom."
"So go," Stan advised, not concerned about the volume of his voice and a little confused at why Kyle was so distressed.
"I can't."
"Why not?"
Kyle took a deep breath and finally whispered, "…I'm scared."
"Aw, poor wittle Kyle. He's scared. Please help him oh strong protector Stan," Cartman teased insensitively.
Kyle looked at the floor in shame. Stan just glared at his companions and grabbed Kyle's arm, leading him to the closest bathroom.
"But what if the killer tries to get me while the door is closed?"
Stan sighed again. "You'll be fine."
Kyle's eyes pleaded with him. The fear shone through, but he nodded. "If you say so…"
Stan sighed in defeat. "Oh, alright. Fine, but this doesn't get out to anyone. Got it?"
"You think I would want the fatass to know? Stan, I hold you in much higher respects then that!"
Stan smiled at Kyle and walked into the small, tiled bathroom with Kyle and faced the door as he closed it.
"Thanks, Stan."
"It's no problem."
"No, but seriously, you are the superbestest friend ever."
Stan smiled at Kyle words, still facing the door.
"It's okay, Kyle…I'm scared, too."
When Kyle and Stan returned to the family room, Cartman and Kenny were in an intense game of 'Go Fish.' Kenny picked up the last card and happily smiled, "I got my wish!"
"I hate you, Kenny."
Kyle laughed, making their presence known, "Sore loser."
Before Cartman could make a crude response, there was a soft knocking at the door.
Everyone's eyes widened as they stared at the door.
"Guys, um…hide under tables and stuff. Quick!" Stan whispered, unsure how to handle the situation.
The knocking became more persistent as each boy divided under a piece of furniture and laid there, shaking.
The person at the door let out a frustrated growl and stopped knocking.
Kyle let out the breath he'd been holding. "That was-"
"Was what?" Stan asked.
Kyle's eyes were wide with fear and Stan looked in the direction he was staring at- the window. A dark figure was lurking about, going to the windows and trying to see inside.
"Cartman, Kenny," Stan whispered to them from across the room, taking charge he continued, "We are gonna make a dash for the stairs and go into my room. We'll close all the curtains on the way and not let our presence be known. Got it?"
Kenny nodded from under the couch while Cartman barely moved his head to comply with the orders.
"1…2…3…go!"
They all made a mad dash for the stairs that led to Stan's room. None of them remembered to close the curtains, as they were too consumed by fear.
For the next few hours, the boys sat in silence in Stan's room. No one could fall asleep and no one would talk. They listened to the wind blowing the trees and the branches scratching the roof and windows for the next few hours until dawn arose.
When the light was finally adequate, the boys ventured back downstairs, less wary of the threatening horrors of the night.
Cartman opened the door. "Oh my God, guys. There's a dead, bloody crow on your porch! It must be an omen…like God is trying to tell us something. Yes, that's it! Stan, he's marked you down if you don't stop hanging out with the Jew. Can't you see it?"
Kyle's eyes blazed with anger. But Kyle wasn't the one that tried to attack Cartman this time, it was Stan, who was held back by Kyle.
Kenny walked passed his two friends and tapped Cartman on the shoulder in order to gain his attention. When he did, Kenny's arm shot out and punched Cartman square in the face, knocking him cold.
"Can we please leave him outside?" Kyle begged.
"And have the cops on us for murder? I think I'll put him in the garage."
Kyle and Kenny nodded, though Kyle was a little disappointed at the loss of revenge.
"Maybe next blizzard?" Kyle asked hopefully.
The other two shrugged as they dragged their overweight friend into a very cold garage.
THE END…but for those of you who want a little more of an explanation…
"Ugh…" Cartman blinked several times to get his vision clear. His head ached and everything was blurry.
"We were starting to wonder if you'd ever wake up," a blurry orange figure greeted him.
"More like hoped you wouldn't ever wake up," the blued-headed figure said, staring accusingly at the green-headed figure, but he just looked the other way.
Cartman groaned, his vision sharpened slightly and he recognized the figures almost immediately.
"…guys?"
The three boys just looked at their friend with raised eyebrows.
"Pull yourself together, dude!" the figure Cartman realized to be Stan said.
Cartman sat up. His hands met cold, sandy cement from the garage floor as he tried to push himself in the upright position.
"Seriouslah, guys, the garage?"
"Well, we really couldn't carry you much farther." Kyle responded offhandedly.
"Ay!"
"We thought you'd be conscious in a minute or two…not a couple of hours later," Stan said,
"Whatevah, you guys. I'ma going home."
"Good."
"Goddamnit, Jew. If you don't shut your mouth right now, I'll…I'll…"
"You'll what?" Kyle asked from his seat on the wooden bench Stan made in woodshop last year.
"I hate you guys."
"It's mutual," Kyle retorted smartly.
"Okay, okay, you got it out of your system! Now can we please just get on with it?" Stan interrupted.
"I guess…" Kyle gave in.
Cartman just turned his head the other way and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Okay, so here's the deal. Kenny, would you like to tell Cartman what happened, since you figured it out?"
"(Yes, thank you, Stan. Now, here's what happened: We went to Stan's house. Parent's were all out and an unexpected blizzard comes. I mean, seriously, it's a blizzard, how can you not predicted it! I could do a better job than those so-called weathermen do-)"
"Kenny, the story!" Stan commanded.
"(Right! So, what happened was that the snow caused a power line to go out and so we didn't have any power…still don't actually. When Kyle got hysterical-)"
"I was not hysterical!"
"(As I was saying, when Kyle got hysterical, Stan brought him upstairs, where he saw bloody scratch marks in the window. Those were caused by a confused crow looking for shelter. It froze in the snow after it lost too much blood, and we discovered him on Stan's porch before I punched you. After some, um, events occurred, there was a knock at the door. It was Shelly. She was sent by our parents to see if we were okay. The storm had died down and she was able to drive the several blocks to Stan's house. After we didn't answer the door, she tried to get in through the windows, tapping and doing whatever she could. She was the figure we saw. Eventually, she got too cold and left. Our parents came here around dawn, which was a few hours after Shelly left. They are in the house now. They told us to stay with you in case you woke up instead of playing video games, which I can say is a lot more fun.)"
"I was winning that race, too," Kyle grumbled.
"Well, guys, I can believe the story, but Kyle winning the race, that's impossible."
"Hey!"
"Here they go again…" Stan muttered to Kenny as he shook his head and walked out of the garage and into his home.
THE END…again
So, what do you think? Good, bad? Any criticism or responses are greatly appreciated. I'm sorry it took so long, but thank you so much for your support in this story.