The final chapter. I kinda rushed to get this one up here, so I didn't proofread it at all. If you see any glaring mistakes that MUST be corrected (only if the must be) don't hesitate to tell me in your review.
I hope you all enjoyed the ride! I liked writing this one, but now I'm off to bigger and better things; I may even get a book published! Yay!
Disclaimer: I don't own South Park. But, if I finish it soon, I might own my own book! Woot woot!
ENJOY!
2013
Chapter 8
Kenny rapped his fingers across the table in frustration, his face stone and emotionless. They had made a costly error, there was no getting around it. He scanned the room and cursed himself again as he counted only three Rebels left, including himself. These were horrible odds.
And what of Butters and Jimmy? Already dead or being tortured for information? Kenny just couldn't think about it, his mind racing faster and faster with no hope in sight. What was he doing here? What possibly possessed him into thinking he could actually lead a Rebel force with any amount of success?
The tired boy just had to admit it. He had started this whole thing because he was angry. Angry at Kyle, Stan, and Cartman for betraying him. He told them! He warned them not to go to war! When they brushed him off, he merely backed away, defeated. Kenny slammed his fist into the table with all the might of his rage. He should have tried harder!
Wendy and Bebe were startled by his outward act of aggression, but they both settled down afterwards. They couldn't imagine the kind of hurt that was wracking him even now. That kind of betrayal from long lost friends was simply unbearable. The only one who could possibly relate was Wendy, and even she wasn't as close to Stan as Kenny was.
"Stan," Kenny mumbled under his breath, an epiphany striking him like lightning. "We still have Stan!" He jolted to his feet causing the other members to look up at him, startled. "You see? They won't kill Butters or Jimmy because they know they're bargaining chips. And no matter what Kyle said, he's not going to give Stan up so easily. They'll want him back."
"I'll go talk to him," Wendy offered. "Maybe we can coax some information out of him. Some sort of weakness in the Arbiter's forces?"
"I'll go," Kenny ordered, already starting for the door. "I've been meaning to have a chat with my old friend anyway."
Stan was sitting in a make shift cell, irons bars surrounding him; a plate of food on a dish at his feet. The word 'dog' echoed in his brain for an eternity as he stared to the ground in utter brokenness. He didn't even look up when he heard the door across the room open up.
"It's been a while," Kenny called softly from afar. He took up a chair of his own and got as close to the cage as possible. Stan wouldn't try to make a move on his life, that much was certain. "So…" he started, struggling with the words. "How 'bout that weather?"
Stan remained motionless, not even chuckling at the ill attempt at humor. Kenny cleared his throat and brushed some non-existent dirt from his sleeve, as if looking for the right words to say. He decided being blunt was the easiest and quickest way to get what he wanted.
"Never thought I'd see the day," the blonde haired teen mused to himself as he gazed in on the shadow that used to be Stan. "Look, dude. I know you're hurt. And by the looks of it, you're just about ready to give up."
"What was it for?" Stan asked suddenly, his voice cracking. "All those people I've killed. All the days I've wasted by his side. What was it for? To be his dog? To be his tool! Is this what love amounts to when all is said and done?"
"Stan," Kenny mumbled, feeling the pain aureate from Stan's limp form. "Love is may be what's to blame here. But not love itself. It isn't because you loved Kyle… it's because you loved him too much. You turned a blind eye to what he was becoming. Deceived. We were all deceived."
For a second, Stan flinched. But by the time Kenny looked up again, he had reverted back to his motionless state.
"I want to fight this," Kenny admitted, cutting to the chase. "I want to make sure no one gets hurt anymore. I want to see this country… I want to see South Park back to the way it was. And you can help us, Stan. You can help us win."
"So you just want to use me too?" Stan mumbled, his voice dripping with contempt.
Kenny laid his head against the iron bars with an agitated groan. This was getting him no where. No matter what he said, he wouldn't be able to get through to him. Stan might as well have been dead already.
He got to his feet and sighed, heading for the doorway. Before he closed the door, he turned over his shoulder for one last look. "We're going to get them back Stan. If we have to trade you, then so be it. But we are going to get Butters and Jimmy back."
XXXXX
"I can tell you have things in order here, Mr. Broflovski," Cooper congratulated cheerfully as he dawned his robe and cape. Adjusting his glasses one more time he held out his hand to shake. "Keep up the good work. If you do, I'll see you in my office very soon. I guarantee it."
"It was a joy to have you here as long as we did, Chancellor," Kyle lied through his teeth. "Please accompany us again in the near future."
"Just a few things before I go," Cooper continued, sitting himself down into the black car that had just pulled up for him. "Remember Mr. Broflovski that you have two hostages and they only have one. Make them count, by whatever means necessary. And secondly, I would like you to intercept that transmission our two guests sent out to Mikhail. If we could pinpoint his current location, it would take a great deal of stress off my back."
"Of course, sir," Kyle replied, trying his hardest to keep the venom from his voice. The car door was slammed shut and the vehicle chugged away into the distance.
"Sir," one Arbiter started, saluting. "Would you like me to get working on finding Mikhail's current whereabouts?"
"You will do no such thing," Kyle ordered flatly.
"B-but, why, sir?"
Kyle stared off into the distance, half expecting to see Cooper's car flying back towards them over the horizon. But it never did. The read headed leader shook his head slowly. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "Just don't do it, alright!"
"I see Cooper has left his perch!" a voice shouted over a megaphone somewhere in the distance. Kyle scanned his eyes across the area, but couldn't see who the culprit was. But his voice was familiar. It was Kenny, no doubt. "We've come to negotiate, Kyle."
"So soon?" Kyle shot back. "So desperate to get your lackeys back are you? You're far too eager for them." Kyle snapped his fingers and went walking back inside. Their front gate had yet to be repaired from the assault the previous night.
Kenny watched from his safe location, his breathing already becoming labored with adrenaline. Kyle returned to the light, dragging something behind him. Kenny's eyes grew wide as he recognized the close and the frantic voice.
"Here's one of them," Kyle taunted, lifting Jimmy up with one hand and dropping him harshly back down onto the cold floor. "Come and get him if you want."
"N-no!" Jimmy shouted at the top of his lungs. "It's a t-t-t… it's a t-t-trap!"
Faster than the eye could see, Kyle drew his gun the holster at his waist and fired a single bullet mercilessly right through Jimmy's head. The boy fell from his knees like a rag doll, spilling crimson into the snow.
Kenny nearly jumped from his hiding spot, but refrained himself. Instead he pounded his fist angrily into his leg, as if it would make time reverse itself if he hit hard enough.
Kyle remained still, his arm still outstretched with the gun. "There," he called. "Now we're even. One hostage each."
The gun began to tremble as Kyle's hand clenched it even harder. An unprecedented rage built up and swelled like a hurricane through his body. Suddenly, waving the gun in the air like a wild man, Kyle screamed at the top of his lungs. "DON'T FUCK WITH ME!!"
Kenny was already running. Kyle had completely gone off the deep end. There was no reasoning with him anymore. The only thing he could possibly understand now was violence and power. And if that was the only way to convince him of his horridness… if violence was the only way to save his god forsaken town… then Kenny was ready to give it all.
He was going to end this with a bang.
XXXXX
"We're leaving now," Kenny informed his captive. Stan didn't return the favor. He stayed silent, expressionless, zombie like. "Bebe. Wendy. Are you both sure you're willing to do this? I wouldn't blame either of you if you decided to back out now."
"Actually," Bebe started, raising her hand. "I've changed my mind. I'm sorry Kenny, but unlike the rest of you, I still have a family. My mom and dad need me. I joined this cause because I want to live in freedom…" She withdrew into herself, a confused twist of pride and hurt. "But even from the beginning, I never wanted it at the cost of my life. I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Kenny smiled at her. "That's alright, Bebe. Really it is, I can understand perfectly. Besides… someone has to stay alive and write our side of the story." Bebe nodded at his acceptance and grinned back, relieved.
"I'm still in, Kenny," Wendy assured, bravely. "I know what we have to do. And I'm willing to do it."
Kenny turned back to the cell door and glanced through the bars at his hostage. With slow deliberate hands, he unlocked the cage and opened it just a crack. With that, he turned and left the room with the others.
XXXXX
Snow fell delicately from the grey clouds overhead. It was already evening, but you wouldn't be able to tell, the skies covered with darkness. The doors to the Arbiter's base had yet to be rebuilt, and they were wide open, ready for the taking.
Kyle knew this of course. He doubled the patrol that guarded the entrance, but still he didn't even try to go to sleep. He knew there would be an attack; how could there not be after that morning's display? But, never the less, he would be ready.
However, the seemingly omnipotent Overseer had overlooked how desperate the rebels had become, and underestimated just how far they would go to save their town.
Soon, sirens were blaring and lights through the halls were flashing a dark red. Kyle's eyes grew wide. That color was only used when a Rebel assault had already infiltrated the fortress. How could they be inside already? He bolted from his seat and grabbed the sword he had used to kill Bradley and stormed out of his office. If you wanted to get something done, you had to do it yourself.
Kenny and Wendy had crawled through a window instead of using the front gate. Working their way back around, they ambushed the vanguard at the entrance from behind with everything they had: pistols, rifles, hand grenades, and even swords and knives. Even though there were only two of them, they had the element of surprise and easily won the small battle.
As soon as the sirens started ringing, Kenny and Wendy were off. Their plan was to keep everybody off guard by keeping in motion and praying to whatever gods were still on their side that Kyle hadn't discovered the bombs Bebe had planted the day before….
Plowing through Arbiters left and right, they made their way to the fortress' holding barracks. Their priority was to save Butters. But even as they broke through the door, they both gasped to see that he was already missing… the two soldiers that were watching over him knocked cold and sprawled on the floor.
"Okay, okay," Kenny breathed quickly, not wasting any time. "We just have to trust that he's okay on his own. Just skip to the next phase."
"Gradually pick off everyone in the base," Wendy confirmed, cocking her pistol. "Think we have enough ammo?"
"Doesn't matter," Kenny huffed. "We gotta do it anyway. Else it's Plan B…"
"I'm starting to think Plan B is looking more and more inevitable," Wendy sighed, hearing the rushed footfalls of soldiers hurrying to their location.
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."
The rebel partners fought their way through a small, unprepared battalion. The Arbiters had no idea where they were, and were frantically calling in reports of attacks where attacks weren't even happening. The entire fortress was in disarray, unable to track down where the Rebels were at any point in time.
Breathless, Wendy turned a corner and shrieked in pain. Kenny's eyes grew wide and crimson splattered against the front of his shirt. His hand trembling, he wiped off the liquid from his chest and stared horrified at the still warm blood dripping from his fingertips. He looked up, too stunned to even move and say a glint of silver protrude through Wendy's torso.
Wendy was tossed to one side and fell against the wall, motionless. Kyle smirked evilly at her and flicked his sword, staining the floor with a shower of blood. "That's one," he sighed, running a hand through his bangs. "Just wish I could have skewered you both at once. Now that would have been impressive."
"Kyle, this has to stop," Kenny shouted, finally regaining control over his body. Kyle looked up with a start, his eyes flashing green just once, his mouth agape as if seeing a long lost friend. But just as quickly, it was gone, smothered by another sinister smirk.
"Oh, something's going to stop tonight," he assured, drawing closer. "And since you're unarmed, I'm going to stop you sooner than I thought." Kyle lifted his arm, and with a laugh, brought the sword down mightily on top of Kenny.
Sparks flew in all directions and metal struck metal and Kyle staggered backwards in astonishment. His eyes were wide in a grotesque mixture of surprise and fear.
Stan slowly straightened himself out, growing to his full height and towered over the quivering Arbiter. His blue eyes were deep and dark, as endless as the sea. His flicked the raven black shocks of hair from his face and frowned at Kyle with such intensity that even Kenny was taken aback. A shimmering rapier was poised at his side and his knuckles were white as he clutched the hilt.
"Stan," Kyle growled, regaining his composure. "What's the meaning of this? How could you-"
"Shut up!" Stan barked, and Kyle instantly grew silent, his emerald eyes glistening. "This is the end, Kyle," Stan said matter-of-factly. "I'm sorry it had to be this way, but it really is all my fault."
"Stan…" Kenny murmured weakly, trying to comfort his friend.
"No, Kenny," he interrupted, his voice calm and collected. "It is my fault. But I'm going to fix everything. Right here. Right now."
"And just how do you intend to do that?" Kyle hissed, hunching over like a cornered animal. "I've always been the better sword fighter than you. You lost each time we sparred together."
"No," Stan corrected. "I was the top fencer in our entire legion. I purposely threw our sparring matches so that you would think you were better. I was always too afraid to hurt you. This whole time… I've been nothing but an enabler. I could have stopped all of this from happening a long time ago. But you were right, Kenny. Because I loved Kyle too much, I let him get away with things I never would have let him get away with otherwise. But I understand now… what I have to do."
"Stan, wait," Kenny tried again, but the other silenced him with his hand.
"I freed Butters from his cage, just like you freed me," he informed, never taking his eyes off of Kyle. "He should be at the armory by now. Go back down this hall and take two rights and then a left, and you'll be there. But be quick, the Arbiters are massing at the front gate. They'll be on your feet the entire way."
Kenny nodded and turned to leave, but Stan called his name one last time. "I know what I have to do," the black haired boy said. "Do you?"
"Yeah," Kenny said. "It's called Plan B."
Kenny raced down the hall and made it to the armory. He leaned over to catch his breath, and when he lifted his head back up, he saw Butters saluting confidently, bombs and missiles scattered about his feet. "I hope you don't mind," he smiled. "But I already started getting ready. We just have to hook everything up."
"You're okay with this, Butters?" Kenny asked, worried.
"I always wanted to be a hero," the other blonde grinned warmly.
Kyle and Stan were fighting with all their might, their steel clashing and ringing through the halls of the fortress. With each step they attacked or blocked, their movements faster than the normal eye could see.
They traveled through halls and rooms alike, lunging and parrying with every once of strength they had in their bodies. Somehow they managed to make it to the front entrance and they backed into the snow, their breaths fogging around them as they grunted and growled.
Both were so evenly matched that neither ever had the upper hand. Stan was level headed and masterful, but Kyle was fueled by the fires of his rage and never once backed down. Stan lunged and sliced through Kyle's elbow who returned the favor with one deft punch into his comrade's face.
Stan tripped backwards, his feet sliding in the ankle deep snow. He lost his balance and flailed his arms, trying to keep on his feet. Kyle wasted no time….
The red head leaned forward and planted his hot lips upon Stan's. The two of them blushed, Stan's eyes closing in ecstasy. Slowly, the sword in his hand slipped forgotten from his grasp and he reached up to Kyle, bringing him in closer. Time ceased as the two of them embraced, their kiss lasting an eternity.
Snow turned red and blue eyes blanched. Stan's fingers clutched at Kyle's back in agony and he tore away from their kiss with a clenched jaw. His legs losing their strength, Stan fell to the ground, his lungs filling with blood as he stared down at the sword embedded into his chest.
"You say I broke your heart?" Kyle asked menacingly. "I think it's about time we made it literal." He leaned over and gradually ripped the blade from Stan's body. Unable to look him in the eye, Kyle turned around and at the same time his walkie-talkie crackled into life.
"We have the two remaining Rebels in our sights, sir," a voice said over the intercom. "We have them surrounded by the armory."
"You're all in the same place?" Kyle growled through his teeth. "Idiots."
"Kyle?"
Kyle went rigid and dropped the walkie-talkie into the snow at the sound of Stan's voice. Instantly his body began to quake and he turned to face his friend, his eyes wide and his pupils constricted leaving great green orbs to shiver in the dim light.
Stan was on his knees, blood blossoming through his shirt and dribbling from the corners of his mouth. He was obviously in an enormous amount of pain, but he was still smiling. Kyle's mind was shattered at the sight of him and the dam finally broke. Tears streamed uncontrollably down his face and gasped in heavy sobs.
"We'll see each other soon, right?" Stan asked, his voice barely a whisper. Kyle nodded, his face contorting as he wept, unable to move. "Promise?" Stan's voice cracked as he too began to cry, his tears rose red with blood.
Kyle couldn't speak, his voice failed him. But he managed to mouth his response. "I promise…."
"Kyle," Stan called one last time, his eyes growing dim. "I love you." Stan breathed out one last time and sunk down face first into the snow.
"Alright you two," one Arbiter said in a guttural voice, aiming his gun at Kenny and Butters. The armory was filled with explosives, each one connected to each other with wires… all the wires connected to one man. "You're coming with us!"
Kenny closed his eye serenely and pulled Butters close to him. "Over my dead body," he cursed, and clicked the button suspended in his hand.
The entire Arbiter fortress erupted into flame, the armory blowing up in a catastrophic explosion. The bombs that lined the walls of the building exploded as well in a chain reaction, leveling the entire area in a single blast. The inferno spread like fires from hell and engulfed everything in its path.
Kyle was blown from his feet, his base demolished in a fire ball. The boom from the explosion shook the foundations of South Park and smoke rose high into the midnight air.
All was silent but for the consuming flames.
Kyle rose to his knees and crawled through the snow, his body rattled and his soul pained. He looked up to see nothing but rubble in the wake of the Rebel's final attack. But the only thing he could think of were his lips and how they were still tingling from Stan's kiss.
A while later, flashes of images sped past Kyle, holding hoses and buckets of water, but he didn't see them. Slow footsteps approached him and stood by his side, an aura of regret and hate wafting from its presence.
"When I heard of the valiant efforts of my comrades here, I just had to come and aid them. But I never would have anticipated their passion and selflessness. To think an entire town could be wiped from the world in a single night… all the cause of greed and pride."
Mikhail set his cold eyes on the trembling shadow of a man that knelt at his feet.
"Kyle Broflovski," he greeted angrily, his voice heavy with a Russian accent. "I constantly remind me subordinates to always take prisoners… never lives. But I believe in your case, I'm willing to make an exception."
Mikhail angled his gun and fired, the icy bullet flying cleanly through Kyle's heart and out the other side. But Kyle did not flinch; he shuttered not from pain, but out of deep and utter despair.
"I killed them all," he whispered, barely able to form the words of his revelation. "I killed him…."
"You realize your treachery," Mikhail mumbled, holding his head high against the chilling wind. "Unfortunately, you realize it far too late." He took slow, deliberate steps away to help in putting out the fire, leaving Kyle to his ill gotten solitude.
Kyle's emerald eyes glazed over. He stared blindly into the darkness, his mouth open with his final breaths. "Stan?" he called out softly, his voice the very embodiment of shame. Slowly he fell forward, the frozen snow draining drops of crimson life force from his body.
XXXXX
Some say this was the turning point of the Rebellion; citizens crying "Remember South Park" at the top of their lungs, parading the streets in arms.
Some say that without the events that occurred in that small back water town, Cooper would never have been over thrown.
Some say that if a message had been sent out like Cooper commanded, Mikhail would have been ambushed before he even reached South Park, and the Rebellion would have ended there. But Kyle refused to send the message out.
The Battle, unfortunately, was lost to history; Bebe being the only one who recorded any of the occurrences. She told of the bravery of her fellow Rebels, Jimmy, Bradley, Butters, Wendy, and of course, their faithful leader, Kenny.
Stan and Kyle's names were never written; their deeds never recorded, as if they had never even existed in the first place. But I think that's the way they would have wanted it.
Regardless of what was or wasn't written, there was one undeniable fact. That fateful night, above the phoenix fire of South Park, for the first time in years, the clouds parted… and the stars could be seen in all their glory.
The End