Everything seemed to settle down after that. Kyle sucked it up the best he could, mumbling things to himself as he picked up things and put the back down. He wondered around the upper level of their hideout, refusing to move from the secure room. Stan had left him for the time being, reluctantly, but only to help Cartman wrap all of the bodies - including the already maggot-infested corpses that got their butts handed to them (one in a very literal sense, thanks to Cartman) - before they started stinking up the place. It was a gnarly job, and when they first started doing it Stan always threw up before, during, and after they got rid of the bodies, so Kenny and Cartman used to do the 'dirty' work, Kyle helping in at times. This time Stan had to suck it up, not wanting to leave their (mostly self-proclaimed) leader alone to do it on his own.
With a little reluctance still, Stan knotted the rope around the blanket that encased Karen McCormick. She was a sweet girl; with gentle heart and really pretty face (before this happened at least).
They could all tell Ike has a little bit of a thing for her and Kyle was a little uneasy about it at first. Kenny talked him down to a calm so he actually would leave the two alone. And look at what happened? A small scoff left Stan. He should have known better to leave two thirteen year olds alone. He patted the blanket coffin and hefted it up, ignoring the disgusting smell and blood that would cling to his skin for days, let alone the guilt that would stick in his mind forever. Goddamn survivor's guilt.
He moved to place the corpse in the closet where Cartman had already placed Ike, just to keep them there until they could dispose of them properly. The other bodies were tossed outside and rolled far down the hill as not to attract other 'zombies' and shit, forgotten for the moment. The closet door swung shut so both boys were forced to make eye contact.
"Go up stairs and take care of your faggot boyfriend, clean the goddamn blood off of him." He ordered Stan, leaning against the wall. "You'd think the kid was smart enough to do it himself." Cartman mumbled afterwards.
"Couldn't you try and be a little nicer?" Stan questioned with a sigh, his hand running through his greasy hair. A snort left the fat boy as he cocked an eyebrow.
"Wait, wait, wait." Cartman stated, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step closer to Stan. "You think Kahl would feel comfort from me if I was being nicer to him?" he asked, his face an inch from the other boy as if to making the point bolder. Stan shrugged slightly and shook his head slowly.
"Whatever, dude. I'm just going to help him out. Try and find Kenny, will you?" Stan stated, asking the last part rather hesitantly. The brunette let out a small yawn and rolled his eyes.
"I'm on watch duty, dildo, so if he comes back I'll find him, won't I?" Erick sneered. Stan took a long look at the big boned boy before walking up the stair to tend to his mentally unstable friend. He lightly touch Kyle's shoulder when he got up the stairs and to the couch at last.
"Stan, I need to practice my aim…" Kyle drawls out slowly, from his position on the couch. His head rested on the back where his hair tumbled onto the cloth as if it were a flame and the way the awkward lighting of the attic hit it made it seem even more on fire. He just kind of sat there, limp, until he brought his head up to look at his super best friend. " I mean, Cartman has those leadership skills, Kenny's got good aim, and you have the instincts… I just have regular shooting skills."
"Dude, you've slaughtered plenty of zombies. Don't worry about your skill."
"No, I mean… the things I do now don't really effect the group. I'm like an extra in this horror movie. And you know the extras are always the first to go…" Kyle attempted to explain, giving a small, hesitant laugh. Stan frowned at first, but then an amused grin to splatter onto his face.
"Without you we wouldn't have any electricity though." He pointed out, dropping down onto the couch next to the red head. A groan left Kyle as he sent a helpless look at the raven haired male.
"I'm going to study medicine." Kyle blurted out. "I might be able to come up with a cure… I will be able to save people… I will be able to help people like Ike and Karen." He added. A sad smile laced Stan's lips as he ruffled Kyle's hair gently.
"Doctor Kyle Broflovski, it has a nice ring to it." Stan mused playfully. He earned a small smile from Kyle but it failed to reach his deep green eyes, which didn't seem to hold any light the way his lying smile seemed to do. "So, Dr. Broflovski… I believe its time to get washed up for bed." Stan continued, standing up and extending a hand out to his best friend. Kyle took hold of the hand tightly, yanking himself off the couch with a soft grunt. His hands pawed at his cheeks as if to erase the tear stains that clung to his skin. He'd become stronger and smarter for Ike and, hell, it was a few weeks ago Ike suggested the older brother took a interest in medicine just in case. God, he wished he listened to the kid more.
On an invisible cue, Kyle and Stan turned back to back and Stan hooked his arms under the hem of his shirt, wriggling it upwards as he did a little dance to get out of it. Kyle stayed down, head slightly head as he looked down. "Say, Stan?"
Stan glanced back with only his eyes, which proved only a futile effort to look at Kyle as his shirt met his eyes and he pulled it over his head, tossing it aside carelessly. It was covered with blood anyway. "Hm?" Stan asked as his arms dropped back down to his side and he turned half-way around, looking at Kyle's red hair on the back of his head.
"Is it okay if I sleep with you tonight?" Stan blinked at the back of his head, eyebrows knitting together in worry for his best friend. Kyle turned his head slightly and then stopped, eyes still on the floor, as if he was going to look at Stan and then stopped midway. "I… just don't want to lose anyone else." Stan gave a meek smile and lifted his hand, touching Kyle's shoulder lightly.
"Dude, you won't lose me. 'Cause we stick through 'til the end." Kyle knew that Stan wasn't just saying that just to say that. They'd be through a lot of shit before - hell, they'd almost been to Hell before. Practically had been. Or at least, Kenny had been a few times… and Kyle even built that giant ladder for whatever goddamn reason to get to Heaven. Or when Stan and him fought and Stan just wouldn't give up chasing that fucking dragon through that forest that he never did catch while Kyle because guitar fagged himself out. They'd even been through sex addiction therapy, killing Britney Spears through the Harvest, and a fucking war that Kyle's mom started with Canada, in which they sent Satan himself back to hell - once again, thank you Kenny McCormick.
Kyle smiled at Stan, leaning forward slightly. He fell against Stan's chest, wrapping his arms around him. He nuzzled his chest slightly, keeping him upright as Stan almost fell backwards, staring down at Kyle with his arms up a moment like he didn't know what to do. He laughed softly, smiling weakly. "Gross, dude, you're getting blood on me…" he laughed and hugged him back quickly, then pushed him off, pointing towards the dresser in the corner of the room that held a few sets of everyone's clothes. "Now get dressed for bed, stupid." Kyle laughed, almost blushing slightly, giving him a little, "Yeah."
Turning back, Kyle and Stan finished stripped themselves, grabbing their clothes from the dresser to change into. They both took their clothes and threw them into the pile that sat in the corner of the room. Kyle, hands on his hips, stuck his tongue out at the pile with one of the biggest grimaces Stan had ever seen on his best friend's face. Stan knew that expression too, it was that one of pure disgust for whatever was before him and was most often only held for Wendy Testaburger or when Eric Cartman walked into the room. Stan hadn't seen it in a long time either, seeing as they were pretty much stuck with Cartman all the goddamn time thanks to the 'zombies' and Wendy hadn't even appeared since the end of school, however long ago that was now. They only kept track of the days now by numbers since the first day, and even then, they sometimes forgot the day, because some days rolled together like they were nothing, even though each day was something else to watch your back for.
Interrupting Stan's thought, Kyle sneered and looked at him. "We need to do a laundry run, dude. This is disgusting. It's starting to smell worse than anything I've ever smelled… and I've smelled a lotta shit, man. You know I'm speaking literally here." Stan grimaced at the memory of Mr. Hanky flooding South Park with everything the sewer of the little Podunk town had to offer… which was a lot at the time, considering they were flooded over with Hollywood independents and Chef's Salty Chocolate Balls.
"Yeah… maybe we can do a laundry run tomorrow or something. We can loot some clothes from the mall too, maybe, and pick up some more food, since we didn't get a whole lot on the run we made today, ya know?" Kyle nodded slightly to Stan's words, turning back to the clothes that sat in a heap in the stinking corner of the attic.
"Yeah, let's do that." He sighed softly after a moment and turned around, starting off towards the couch again. He nodded Stan over and Stan rushed to the other end of the couch, peeling off the cushions. It was a pull-out couch anyway; easy to put back together and didn't take up a whole lot of room. The two boys heaved it out and set down some sheets on top of it that they got from the closet downstairs, throwing on two pillows - one for each of them. Normally, it was just Stan's bed, and Kyle slept on the bunk bed with whoever wasn't on watch shift that was on the wall across from the couch and dressed.
Like everything was on cue once again, the motor of the stairs churned again and both boys turned, at complete alert, Stan's hand shifting back to the dressed to grab his pistol just in case. Stan made his way to the top of the staircase pointing the pistol downwards, only to find himself pointing at a Cartman who had his hands raised in mock-defeat, gun across his back and a big scowl across his face.
"Put your goddamn gun down, ya faggot, it's just me," Cartman growled as he made his way up the stairs more, the room clear behind him. Stan sighed and Kyle peeked over the edge of the stairs from the side as the raven-haired boy shoved his pistol through his belt loop. "Jesus…" Cartman mumbled as he got to the top of the stairs, where he crossed his arms over his chest. "Okay, bitches, here's how it's gonna go. I'm taking the first watch shift and then one of you ass-bangers can take on duty, since Ken was supposed to do it next, but that little girl's not here right now, the pansy." He shrugged loosely, turning back around to start back down the stairs. "Decide who's goin' next, and I'm going back to the watch post," he said as he made his way down the stairs, tapping at the keypad on the wall so the stairs once again churned into life and began to shut. Before it shut completely, he saluted them, saying, "See ya later, ladies."
Stan looked back at Kyle and smiled, opening his mouth and pointing to himself before Kyle could even offer to take shift after Cartman let off. "I'll go." He put his hand back on Kyle's shoulder and turned them around, pushing Kyle towards the bed. "You need more rest. You've been through a lot today, right?" Kyle almost blushed - did Stan just call him weak? But Kyle didn't talk him out on it - he didn't want to fight with his super best friend at all. Kyle watched as Stan made his way to the other side of the bed and sat down on the edge, fixing his pillow as Kyle crawled under the covers. He curled up on his side, facing Stan. Sitting still, Stan looked back at him with a soft smile before reaching over to turn out the light with a soft clap of his hands. In the dark, Kyle smiled back at him and laid his head down, lulling slowly into a sleep as he slept across his super best friend, whose warmth he could feel from across the sheets.
The couch was big, but not too much. When Stan turned back over in his sleep, he basically laid his arm down on Kyle's chest, palm flat against where his pulse thrummed. Kyle wasn't exactly having the best time going to sleep. He rolled onto his side, facing Stan, and Stan's hand slipped off his chest. The raven-haired male murmured in his sleep and Kyle smiled softly at him.
I wonder how he can sleep so calmly… Kyle closed his eyes, hoping to achieve the same deep sleep that Stan looked like he was having. Doesn't it bother you at all, Stan? Kyle sighed softly, burying his arms under his head and under his pillow, curling up slightly. Maybe he could just cry himself to sleep or something… too bad he couldn't get his hands on some sleeping pills or something…
Though, Stan's dream wasn't as sweet as Kyle believed them to be.
Well, at first it was pretty nice. They were all there, Kenny, Cartman, Kyle, and himself. All crammed into Stan's room. Kyle and Stan occupied the bed as Cartman and Kenny sat on the floor at the end of the bed, each boy tapping furiously at the XBox 360 controllers. Kenny's tongue was sticking out of his mouth as he leaned closer to the screen, eyes squinting as if to get a better view. Suddenly, Kyle punches Cartman in the back of the head.
"You fuckin' cheater!" He growled out at Cartman, the controller clutched in one hand, the other still balled into a fist. Cartman hissed out a curse word, hand gripping some of the hair on the back of his head as he glared backward at the redhead, his character getting blown to bits by Kenny who threw his arms in the air and let out a loud whoop.
"Shut the ass-sucker, jus' cause you can't aim for shit doesn't mean I am fuckin' cheating! You're the one that just cheated and let the po' boy win." Cartman sneered before smirking. "Well, at least its better then letting a Jew win." He drawled, shrugging his shoulder. Kenny snickered softly, his blue eyes flickering to Stan for a nanosecond before turning back to the fighting 'couple'. The raven haired boy was about to jump in but then the TV started making a fizzing noise. Each one of the boys stared at the screen. "What the fuck?" One of them asked, though no one was entirely sure of who said it. The TV started shuffling channels through salt-and-pepper static, hissing noises emanating from the speakers. Stan's jaw dropped. The TV suddenly clicked to a random channel and what looked like the news shifted onto the screen though Stan didn't have cable in his room.
"What the hell?!"
The TV shook side to side and his Xbox clattered to the floor and Stan felt himself shaking. Scratch that - the whole place was shaking. Kyle dropped the controller onto the bed and almost fell off the bed sideways, his hat falling off his hat and onto the floor, where it rattled side to side like the boys and their controllers were doing. The TV hissed at them again and Stan's lamp fell onto the floor where it smashed, pieces flying past Kenny and Cartman as they shook about the room. Stan clutched at the bed, eyes wide with fear.
Then all was calm and Stan's TV crackled back into life, their game proclaiming Kenny as the winner like nothing ever happened, the Xbox 360 laying on its side instead of its typical upright position next to the screen. Kyle sat up on the bed slowly, glancing at Stan with wide eyes.
"Wohoo!" Kenny shouted, hands flying into the air again at his victory, seeming almost unphased by what just happened. The other three stared at him, confused. Kenny just grinned at the TV. He never dropped his own controller.
"Holy shit," Kyle let out in a breath he didn't know he was holding. He glanced back at Stan, who could only ask "What the hell was that?"
"Earthquake?" Cartman asked, peering over the foot of the bed, tipping up slightly to look at the smashed lamp on the floor. He sneered at it.
"There hasn't been any seismic activity reported since fucking ever, you dumbass," Kyle growled at him, still clutching at the sheets of Stan's bed, white knuckled.
A loud clatter came from the room next to the bedroom along with a horrible noise. Everybody froze, ice running through their veins.
"Stan, yer parents are like horny rabbits man. I swear every time we come over here they're boning each other…" Kenny mused, his voice slightly muffled by a bandana he tied around his face earlier as a joke. Something laced the blondes voice that Stan couldn't really catch. When he heard his mother let out a shriek he stood up from the bed and darted out of the room, Kyle following at his heels, wide eyed.
"Mom?!" Stan called out, dashing down the hall.
The door flung open and he was met with something that made him squeak. The clothes on Mrs. Marsh were bloodied and dangling off of her while his father sunk his hands into the gapping wound on her stomach, fishing out the gallbladder and pulling it out, swallowing it basically whole before he whipped his head around to see Stan and Kyle, blood dripping from his chin, his eyes rolled back to show only white.
"Dad?" Stan crocked out, the man jumped out and screeched at Stan, blood spraying onto the carpet. Kyle let out a strangled noise. Stan jumped to the side, barely getting out of the way in time. Kyle ducked behind the door, just as afraid. Stan looked up as Randy turned to look at him to the nightstand, where he knew his dad kept a small hand gun. He took a dash for the night stand and Randy slowly turned to face his son.
It felt like the goddamn Matrix; everything in slow motion as Stan pulled opened the drawer and aimed the Colt .45 ACP at his father, tumbling to the ground and rolling, barely eluding his father. He kicked at the older male, causing the older to hit the bed and let out a grunt through the bloody mouth. Randy coughed out blood and some of his mother's stomach as he jerked rigidly upright, and Stan swore he heard his spine snap apart when he did. He dad gave a low growl and pounced on him as Stan pushed the barrel towards his father's face, the gun being the only thing that kept his blood-thirsty father off of his own face like he was on his wife's stomach. Next thing he knew, wood was connecting to his father's head, brains splattering not only on the carpet and furniture, but Stan's face and clothing as well. He crawled out from under his father's now limp body and turned over, emptying his stomach multiple times onto the carpet next to his parent's bed. He swallowed thickly and wipes his mouth, brain matter making a squelching sound as he wipes it from his lips. He can hear Kenny's heavy panting and he turned to see Marsh blood staining his skin and clothing too. With the bandana tied around his mouth he couldn't tell if Kenny's expression was one of horror like Kyle and Cartman's, who just peered in through the doorway.
Stan scrambled off the floor, his eyes glued to his fathers head where the bat had hit. A small gurgling noise left him, like a dog whining at its master.
No one speaks. Everything is silently until there is a gasp that sounds like someone blowing bubbles in water. All heads turned towards Stanley's mother who was now sitting up on the floor.
"Mom!?" Stan yelped, wet tears coating his cheeks when he realizes its not really her. Kenny swears, swiping the gun from the scarred boy and aiming it at the mother. But she's already gone, the curtains blowing and stained with blood. Kenny cursed again and dashed to the window, shooting a bullet at her. Everyone followed the oddly calm Kenny. But Kenny turned around as they reached him, slumping back against the bloody curtain, where it seemed that part of Mrs. Marsh's liver stuck.
"We have to call the cops and warn people." Kyle stated, shaking as he glances from Kenny to Kyle.
"No, we have to get our families and get the fuck out of here." Kenny stated coldly and everyone knew it was all they really could do, especially as they watched the blood dribbled down Kenny's cheek and onto the carpet below him.
Splatter, splatter went the blood.
Stan jolted upright and clutched his chest. His vision was blurry. Sometimes he wished he was never able to sleep. They only brought back fucked up memories. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and climbed out of the bed, checking to make sure he had his handy-dandy pistol with him. Looking back at Kyle he pulled the blanket up around him, murmuring a soft 'sweet dreams' as the stairs hummed once again into life, none other than Eric Cartman climbing to the top of the stairs.
Stan blinked and smiled widely. He could hardly see Cartman, but he knew it was him from his silhouette that was hallowed out against the light that echoed up from downstairs. "Hey, dude," he said in a whisper, being careful about not waking Kyle. He smiled and clapped Cartman on the shoulder as he moved past him after grabbing his M14 off the wall and began his way down the stairs. He turned and mumbled to himself each number as he punched them into the keypad on the wall so the stairs would swivel back up. As he watched them, he raised a single eyebrow, seeing Cartman still standing there blankly at the top of the stairs. The stairs shut up and he shook his head - Cartman was probably just tired.
As Stan searched the house he couldn't help but think how quiet it was without Kenny; the kid was an insomniac, so he was usually up except for two, maybe three hours out of the whole day - sometimes only that amount of time in a few days time. When he was asleep he was asleep, though, nothing could wake him up until he decided to roll his skinny little arse out of bed. They had tried everything to wake the blonde up once because he had overslept when it was his shift - Kenny usually had second shift, right after Cartman. After about an hour of trying, they gave up and Kyle shooed them out of the room, claiming that he needed to change. About two minutes after Stan and Cartman had left the room there was a loud thud and a shriek of surprise. Both males rushed back into the room to find Kyle tackled to the floor by Kenny who was laughing like an idiot above the redhead, pinning him to the floor and stating something about he should know better then to give a strip tease to the horniest boy in south park.
Stan let out a little laugh at the idea. Kenny certainly was the horniest boy in South Park. He was like some kind of sex god or something, or so he had assumed from all the rumors he heard that had once escalated their way down the grape vine of high school until they got to him. In the dim light, he smiled, hands reaching out to grip at a ladder that led up to a little cubby hole that was a balcony, which overlooked the entire north and west sides of the hideout. He sat his gun down and leaned over the balcony, peering around in the dim light of night, a fair amount of light bleeding from the moon and onto the hill, mostly hitting the tops of trees.
He really loved being up here - it was so peaceful. He sighed softly and then took in a deep breath, loving the taste of the night air (that air that didn't smell like zombie or blood-covered clothing that was balled up in a corner). His eyes scanned the trees and he pushed himself up on the corner of the balcony so he was half-straddling the railing, one leg folded under him and the other hanging down next to his gun. He heard a owl hoot in the distance and he switched his sights back to the west side, spotting a small figure shift in the darkness, completely open in view to him. Instantly, his gun was in his hands. He aimed, but the figure was already gone.
He lowered his gun, slightly confused. Funny… that shadow was in too much open space to disappear that quickly. It couldn't have been a zombie - zombies are much too slow. Mentally, Stan thanked rigor mortus. Besides, zombies mostly traveled in packs, so they could all gang up on people and feed all together once they took 'em down, like a pack of wolves after a single deer. That's just how they operated. And Stan was sure he only saw one, and nothing else appeared, so, maybe it was… a ninja.
Yeah, a ninja… fucking ninjas. They always got him in Ninja Gaiden before he could get them. And, man, that game was hard as fuck…
Stan made sure to keep his gun in his arms though as he continued his watch patrol of the area.
Kyle, on the other hand, cuddled closer into the pull out couch. A soft sigh left him; he had been jarred awake when Stan got up. The boy believed it could've been and probably was to take a leak. So he pressed his face into the semi-lumpy pillow as he tried to force his hazy mind back into a sleep. He almost accomplished it too, until he felt weight on the bed. His breath hitched in his throat for a second before smirking lightly. Stan had returned to him. He felt fingers ghost over his cheek, as something wet ran over grazed his ear.
"Ngh… stop Stan... I don't want to do this right now," Kyle grumbled, not bothering to open his eyes. He turned over and batted at Stan's hand. But Stan thought otherwise. His hands tugged at his pants and Kyle growled a little moan in the dark as Stan clutched at his crotch. Kyle sat up slightly with the help of one elbow, pushing Stan's hands away from him. "Stan, I said not now." Kyle turned again, shoving his face into the pillow. "Jesus, if you wanted to do this so bad, we should have just done it earlier…" he mumbled into the pillow.
But Stan was relentless.
His tongue flicked over the back of Kyle's neck and Kyle shivered as something ran down his neck and onto the sheets next to him. Kyle groaned. "Dude, gross…" he shivered again and Stan's hands ghosted over his sides, making Kyle tingle. But he didn't want this. He just wanted to sleep. God, he wouldn't mind normally, but this was just ridiculous - Stan knew when to stop, and he said stop. "Okay, seriously, Stan! Stop it!"
God, he just wished Stan would go away now!
Click.
Wait, what…?
Bang. Splatter.