Ok...I know I sort of took a lot longer to update this one than the last couple of chapters, but I wasn't really getting any reviews and I was gonna pull it out but then I got 2! Yippie! Hey, that's good enough for me! So thanks to kittykyle and Coffeey for reveiwing! I heart you guys! Ok, so this one is kind of violent, not really, but a little bit. So on with the chapter!

Disclaimer: No...I still don't own South Park.

Chapter four:

Kyle was back at his own house now, crying his eyes out in his room. He didn't really know what to think about what had just happened at Tweek's house. What he had done...

"Maybe I really am crazy," he thought. "But I can't be crazy! I'm perfectly sane! There's nothing wrong with me!" he thought about this for a little while longer.

"If I just don't let him get out again, then maybe I can save everybody," he said outloud to himself. "Yeah, that's it. I just won't let him get out again!" Right after he said this, Kyle heard insane laughter in his mind. He wrapped his arms around his head.

"Shut up!" he screamed.

"You can't keep me in here forever, Kyle," the voice that sounded just like him said. "I'll never be gone...not until every single one of them is gone. And after that, I'll still be here, waiting for someone else to come along and piss you off!"

"I hate you!" Kyle screamed, still holding onto his head.

"Kyle?" a voice sounded from outside his room. Kyle let go of his head and looked at his door.

"Y-yeah?" he called back.

"Mom just called and said she won't be back tonight 'cause of some meeting thing in Denver!" it was Ike. "She said she's staying at a hotel, and dad won't be back either 'cause of that gay ass business trip thing!"

"Okay, Ike!" Kyle said.

"Hey, Kyle?" Ike started up again from outside of Kyle's bedroom door.

"What, Ike?" Kyle yelled.

"Why were you screaming?"

Kyle didn't move for a moment. He just wished that Ike would shut up and go away. He didn't know what to say to him right now. He was about to wish that he didn't have a brother, but he stopped. He knew that he couldn't think that or else...or else...

"It's too late, Kyle!" that voice sounded in his head again. "You already thought it! This isn't the first time, either!" Anti-Kyle laughed the most evil laugh Kyle had heard from him yet.

"God damn it!" Kyle yelled. He stood up from his bed. "DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HIM YOU SICK SON OF A BITCH!"

"...Wh-what?" Ike said from the hallway.

"Shit..." Kyle said. "Umm, nothing Ike! Just go make some of those pizza bite thingies for dinner and I'll be right down!"

"...Okay..." Kyle heard footsteps going through the hallway and down the stairs.

Kyle laid face down on his bed with his face pressed hard against his pillow.

"Fuck! God fucking damn it!" Kyle screamed into the pillow. Suddenly, he felt dizzy. He looked up from his pillow and his bedroom was spinning. Before he knew it, sleep took over his body.

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The next morning, everything seemed normal. In fact, Kyle wondered if he had just dreamed the whole thing about going insane and killing Tweek. He got up from his bed, not bothering to make it because he wasn't under the covers anyway, and headed off to the shower.

As Kyle looked in the bathroom mirror, he noticed he still had all of his clothes on from yesterday, even his hat. He yawned and took his hat off, letting his wild red curls fly everywhere. Kyle scratched his head and examined his face in the mirror. He looked like shit. There were bags under his eyes and they were bloodshot from crying all night. "I must've just been crying because of that sick dream..." Kyle thought. He turned away from the mirror to turn the shower on and undressed. The minute he stepped into the hot water, he felt a little bit better. There was just something about taking a shower in the morning that made him feel really good.

Kyle got out of the shower and dried off. He put the towel around his waste and started examining his face in the mirror again. He looked a little bit better after his shower. He was more awake. For a split second, Kyle thought he saw a strange light in his eyes. He moved his face closer to the mirror to see what it was. He was to the point now that his nose was almost touching the mirror.

"BOO!" his reflection screamed at him. Kyle was terrified. He jumped back and ended up slipping on the tiles because his feet were still wet.

"Fuck!" Kyle yelled, rubbing the back of his head. "Ouch! God damn it! That fucking hurt! What the hell was that?"

Kyle slowly got up from the floor and looked back at the mirror. He didn't see anything strange. Just him.

"Hmm..." he said. "Must've just been my imagination, I guess..."

Kyle got dressed and went downstairs where Ike was watching the news and eating cereal in the living room.

"Hey, Ike," Kyle said. "Anything interesting on T.V.?"

"Shhh!" Ike said without turning his attention from the television.

Kyle got a bowl from the cupboard and filled it with Cheerios, and went to the fridge for some milk. However, there was none in there. He looked over at Ike sitting on the couch, who had a bowl filled almost to the top with milk and hardly any cereal, and a huge glass filled to the top with milk.

"God damn it, Ike!" Kyle said. "Why do you always have to have that much milk in the morning? Now I have to eat my cereal dry and--"

"Would you stop your bitching for two seconds?" the nine-year-old yelled. "I'm watching the news!"

Kyle mumbled a few profanities and took his bowl of cereal and no milk to the living room. He sat down next to Ike on the couch and started eating the very dry Cheerios one by one. Kyle decided not to get angry at his adopted brother, and instead turned his attention to the television. The news anchor was apparently talking about Tiffy, the tennis playing hamster.

"--and that cute little furball just keeps on playing his little heart out! In other, more serious news, a resident of South Park was found dead this morning in his home. Fourteen-year-old Tweek Tweak died last night from what police are guessing was a drug overdose. The young man--"

Kyle had just choked on his dry Cheerios. He was coughing so horribly that Ike actually turned away from the T.V. to look at him.

"Wh-what!" Kyle yelled inbetween coughs. "SHIT! NO! This can't be happening!"

"What are you talking about?" Ike asked.

Kyle coughed a little bit more, and then looked at his brother who was sitting right next to him.

"Ike," he said once his choking fit had ceased. "Y-you wouldn't tell anyone if I did something...something really bad, r-right?"

"...What did you do?" Ike asked. He didn't want to beat around the bush. He wanted to get right to it.

"I mean, we are brothers and everything, right?" Kyle said, ignoring Ike's question.

"Kyle, what did you do?"

"A-and, you know that if you ever did something but it really wasn't your fault at all that I would never even think about turning you in and--"

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO!" Ike yelled.

"Ike, I-I...I think I might be insane..." Kyle started. "I-I did something really...not good..."

Ike just looked at him.

"But it wasn't really me!" Kyle continued. "It was this other part of me that's totally evil! He's evil, Ike! He won't stop until they're all dead!"

"Until who's all dead?" Ike asked.

"Everyone! Anyone who's ever pissed me off, evenjusta little! Craig, Token, Stan, even you, Ike!"

"Kyle...tell me what you did."

"I-I-I...I k-... I killed Tweek!"

Ikecontinued tostare unblinkinglyat Kyle for what seemed like forever.

"Y-you killed somebody?" he finally said.

"It wasn't really me, Ike! You've gotta believe me!"

Kyle tried to hug Ike, but Ike backed away.

"Ike! You know I'd never kill anybody! Please! If you don't believe me, then who will?"

Ike slowly got up and put his unfinished cereal on the coffee table.

"Ike, y-you won't t-tell anybody, right?" Kyle asked, now crying.

Ike just stared down at Kyle. Then he walked out of the living room and up the stairs to his room, not saying anything. Kyle wasn't worried, though. Ike didn't have a phone in his room.

"Now we have to kill him," Kyle heard in his head. "You don't go around telling people that you're a murderer, you fucking asshole!"

"Why are you calling me an asshole?" Kyle said outloud. "And I'm not the one who killed him! You are!"

"We have to kill him!" Anti-Kyle repeated, now outside of Kyle's body as well.

"No! You're not going to touch my fucking brother, you sick fuck!"

Kyle felt the feeling in his body start to leave, just like at Tweek's house.

"NO! NO YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" Kyle yelled. "DON'T DO THIS!"

Kyle looked at the stairs, and noticed that Ike had come back down and was sitting at the foot of stairs staring at Kyle.

"IKE!" Kyle cried. "Ike, you have to run! Run, Ike!"

"No, Ike! Just stay there, I have to tell you a secret," Anti-Kyle said.

Now Ike was completely confused. He didn't know what to do.

"Just run, Ike! Don't fucking listen to him--me! I'm crazy, Ike! I'm crazy, now run!" Kyle screamed. It was the last thing he was able to say before his dark side took over completely.

Ike shot up from the bottom step and started running to the door. Anti-Kyle saw this and raced after him.

"Run, Ike!" was all that Kyle thought as this maniac ran after his little brother. Unfortunately for Ike, Kyle was much taller than him and had much longer legs, meaning that he could also run a lot faster.

Before Ike could reach the door, Anti-Kyle had caught him. He held on to the struggling boy. Ike kicked him in the shin, actually making him bleed.

"Now that hurts me, Ike," Anti-Kyle said calmly. "You don't want to hurt your brother, do you?"

"You're not my brother!" Ike yelled. He struggled even more, but Anti-Kyle had him in a sort of bear hug. Ike couldn't move his arms, and Anti-Kyle had lifted him into the air so that his feet couldn't touch the ground. "Let me go, you son of a bitch!"

"Harsh words, Ike," Anti-Kyle said. "That really hurts my feelings," he smiled.

"Let me go!" Ike screamed.

"No, I don't think I will," Anti-Kyle spun Ike around so that he was facing him. He didn't look anything like Kyle anymore. His hat had fallen off, and Kyle never let anyone see his awful curly, red hair. His eyes were completely different. They had this evil glint in them. And that smile...that smile was the most evil thing Ike had ever seen. This was not his brother.

"You're not Kyle!" Ike screamed. "Let me go! Leave Kyle alone! I hate you!" Ike struggled to free himself from this...this...thing's grasp. He kicked his legs as hard as he could, and finally connected one of his feet with Anti-Kyle's groin.

"FUCK!" Anti-Kyle screamed. He dropped Ike. The little boy landed hard on the ground, but he got up quickly. He looked over and saw a pen on the coffee table. Ike ran to it and grabbed it.

Anti-Kyle was on his knees with his eyes closed. Ike tried to make a run for the door with the pen still in his hand, but Anti-Kyle grabbed his ankle and he fell to the ground again.

"Now that really hurt me, Ike!" Anti-Kyle said. "And I know that you want to apologize, so why don't you do that right now, and I won't make this as painful for you!" he got up, still holding on tight to Ike's ankle, and started to drag him to the kitchen. Ike screamed and kicked, but Anti-Kyle ignored him. He didn't notice the pen in the boy's hand.

"Let's see here..." Anti-Kyle said once they were in the kitchen. "What can I use to dispose of little Ikey here?" he was still smiling that evil smile. He dragged Ike a little further into the room and opened up a drawer. "Oooh! Why, Ike, would you take a look at all of these sharp knives? There are quite a few of them! Which one do you like the most?" he laughed at the look of terror on Ike's face.

"God damn it! Let me go!" Ike said for what seemed like the hundreth time. He started kicking his free leg around, but Anti-Kyle didn't seem to care. He continued looking through the drawer full of knives.

"I think I like this one," he said, looking in the drawer with his finger on his chin like he was thinking really hard. He was about to reach in when Ike took action.

Ike used all the strength that he had in his stomach to sit up while Anti-Kyle still held his leg in the air. He clutched the pen in his hand so hard that his knuckles were turning white. Ike yelled and lunged forward. The pen stuck straight into Anti-Kyle's thigh. This surprised him so much that he actually let go of Ike's ankle and the boy ran for it. He finally reached the door and ran outside, screaming.

Anti-Kyle looked away from the door that was still opened, and down at his thigh. He finally realized what had happened, and touched the wound gingerly.

"OUCH! FUCK! Look what your little brother did!" he yelled.

"You deserved it, you sick fuck!" Kyle said inside of his head. "You were trying to kill him! See what happens when you mess with people, you asshole! Now get the fuck out of my brain and leave my brother alone!"

"No, that's okay," Anti-Kyle said. He slowly started to pull the pen out of his thigh. Blood began gushing out even faster than it already was, and it made a sickening squishing noise as it came out. Anti-Kyle smiled and looked at the blood covered pen in his hands. There was blood all over the pen, all over his leg, and now all over his hand. He lifted his hand to his mouth, licked it, and smiled.

"Haha! I never thought that little fucker actually had it in him!" he said, now thinking that the situation was funny. There was blood all around his mouth. "Well, I'll get him worse, you watch."

"No you won't!" Kyle yelled inside his head again. "I'll stop you! You just wait! I'll fucking stop you!"

Kyle fought as hard as he could to gain control of his body back, but Anti-Kyle didn't seem to have to fight back at all.

"Don't you get it, Kyle?" he said. "I'm stronger than you now! I control you now! Not the other way around! You see how it feels? See how it feels to not have control of anything? I'm Kyle now. You're nothing!" and with that Anti-Kyle threw the pen on the ground and took the huge knife he had been looking at out of the drawer. He started to follow the direction Ike had gone, but with a limp.

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By this time, Ike was almost to Stan's house. He could hardly breathe and his lungs felt like they might explode, but he kept on running. He finally made it to Stan's, and didn't even bother knocking. There were no cars in the driveway and Stan's window was open with music blasting out of it, so Ike knew that he was there.

Ike ran up the stairs to Stan's room and practically busted the door down. Stan just looked at him from his computer desk in shock. He turned his stereo down when he realized that Ike was trying to talk.

"S-Stan!" Ike cried. "Kyle's crazy! H-he tried to-to k-kill me!"

"Ike, what are you talking about?" Stan said, not quite believing him.

"Kyle! He tried to kill m-me! But it wasn't really Kyle! It was like he was possessed or something! Please, Stan! You've gotta help me!" Ike fell to his knees with his face in his hands and started crying. He recoiled, though, when he noticed the blood on his hands that was now on his face. Stan noticed this, too.

"I-Ike?" Stan said. "Who's blood is that?"

Ike looked into Stan's eyes. He looked like he was going to cry, too.

"It's Kyle's," Ike said more clearly. "But I had to do it! He was going to kill me! I stabbed him in the leg with a pen and ran here! Kyle killed that kid on the news! Who was it...umm...god damn it! Who the hell was it? TWEEK! KYLE KILLED TWEEK!" Ike screamed.

"Kyle...k-killed...Tweek? He killed him? Ike, are you sure? You have to be absolutely sure!" Stan was shaking now. He ran to Ike, who was still on the floor, and put an arm around him. Ike sobbed into Stan's shoulder.

"Stan, he tried to kill me too!" Ike cried, but it was muffled as his face was still pressed against Stan's shoulder. "H-he said that th-the other side of him wouldn't stop until we're all d-dead! All of us! E-even you, S-Stan!"

"Kyle wants to kill me?" Stan asked, still holding the boy in his arms.

"No! N-not Kyle! The o-other one! He's not Kyle! He t-took over K-Kyle! It's his evil s-side! Kyle is i-insane!"

"Oh my god...Ike...Ike is he following you? Will he follow you here?"

"I-I dunno! I don't think he knows where I am! He was t-too surprised th-that I stabbed him to n-notice me running away!"

Stan let go of Ike and went across his room to his bedroom window. He looked down the street and saw him. Kyle was walking towards Stan's house with a strange limp, clutching his left thigh with one hand, a huge knife in the other. He didn't have his hat on and Stan couldn't remember the last time he had seen him without his hat. There was blood all over the boy. It was soaking through his pantleg, on his hands, his jacket, and even his face. He looked up and noticed Stan staring at him. His scowl instantly changed into an evil grin.

Author's note:

Omigosh! My first cliffey...sort of! lol. Sooo...Again, if you are confused about ANYTHING, just ask me and I will explain it. I HATE it when people are confused and they refuse to ask questions! For some reason, that just pisses me off. Ok, I'm done with my rant. Again, this is my first fanfic, so I guess if you wanna flame, feel free. Constructive critisizem is appreciated:-D