Chapter 2

Stan opened his eyes only to find himself tied up in some junkie's basement. The smells of pot, piss, and alcohol were overwhelming, and it took everything Stan had to keep his oversensitive stomach from retching. Well, at least he tried.

"BLEAUGH! Ahh, sick." He turned his head away from the little puddle of vile and got comfortable against the soft surface he'd been leaning on until his stomach had decided to betray him.

"Ge' offa me…you jus' puked, thz gross dude..." A sleep induced slur made the voice a little difficult to understand at first, but what kind of friend would forget what their super best friend's voice sounded like?

"Kyle?" He sat up and looked into the half lidded eyes of his lifelong friend.

"Who else, now get offa me, yer breath reeks, dude!"

Stan obliged, he could tell that Kyle was pissed and he didn't want to make things worse. "You know where we are?"

Kyle sighed, as if explaining their situation would be tiring and troublesome. "Remember that gang of sixth graders that bullied us in elementary school?"

"I thought they went off to college?"

"Yeah, so did I."

"Y-You awake now, Stan?" Butters piped. He was furthest from Stan, followed by Cartman who was wedged between Butters and Kyle, the three were equally displeased.

"Oh FINALLY. I can talk to someone other than the fag and the Jew. Oh wait, I just mentioned Kyle twice..."

"Shut up Fatass! No one wants to talk to you, anyway."

"Guys, guys. This isn't the time for that. We need to find a way to get out of here." Always the levelheaded leader, Stan wiggled around a bit, trying to free himself of his binds so he could help the others. Predominately Kyle, he didn't care for the others nearly as much. "Shit, this stuff's coarse. It's hurting my arms."

"That was the point, stupid 11th grader." The grating, nasally voice of…of…shit, what was his name? The group, for the life of them, couldn't remember the name of that big-nosed, self-centered oaf that had scared them out of their wits daily as kids. Let's call him…Big-Nose. Simple enough. The group, only four strong, walked down the stairs, emitting enough smug to create a cloud of it above the house.

"What do you want? You haven't seen us in over a year, we have nothing to do with you." Kyle reasoned. Stan could practically feel the heat of annoyance emitting from his friend's body and sighed.

"Maybe they just want more porno pics of your mom, Stan." Cartman commented, seeming completely unaffected by his current situation.

"You think we want pictures of that ancient floozy? Fuckin' hell, we ain't that desperate."

"But you admit you're still desperate."

"Cartman, would you shut the hell up!? You're only going to make things worse!"

"Shut up hippy! I'll do what I want!"

"You really think we'd go through the trouble of knocking you out and dragging you all the way out here just to point and laugh?!"

The four exchanged a look, "Uh, y-yeah. Kinda." Butters answered timidly.

Big-Nose barked a laugh. "Let me fill you 11th graders, we're getting paid 5,000 bucks a piece to kill you guys." Big-nose and his three buddies pulled guns out from behind their backs, that seemed to appear out of nowhere, and aimed one at each of their captive's heads.

"Are you fucking insane!?" Stan shouted at their captors. They'd been in situations like this before, but this time there didn't appear to be a reason for what was going on. Not that that was anything new either. "We haven't even done anything! You're gonna get thrown in prison! You're old enough now." The whole damn situation felt like Déjà vu. How many times has this happened?

"What I'm more interested is where this guy got 20 grand just to spend on losers like you." Cartman commented, still completely unfazed.

"I don't have to tell you that. Anyway, as for killing you: this is South Park, moron. Do you really think anyone's gonna notice if four kids, who have gone missing more times than anyone can count, suddenly disappear again?'

The four of them looked at who would forever, to them at least, be known as 'the sixth-graders' with horror and faint realization. They were going to die. Not like Kenny, but legitimately die.

"Jeh-Jesus Christ!" Butters exclaimed, eyes bulging in fear.

"Well damn, we're pretty fucking screwed, aren't we?" Cartman's voice shook a little and his eyes started bugging. "looks like you finally get to go to hell, dumb Jew."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, CARTMAN!"

"'Unhand me! This is a crime against all of Kraageldon!'" Botere translated for her mistress. She was on her knees, looking up into the glowing eyes of her captor, a dark spell keeping her bound to her three companions.

"Silence, Middle Child." The cloaked figure delivered a powerful blow with his staff to the side of the young girl's head, knocking her over, but not unconscious. "You will learn your place."

"How dare you hit a Middle Child! And a female no less!" Straaten was furious with not only his captor's behavior and lack of respect, but that he was careless enough to get caught by such a dishonorable group. "What do you want from us? Who are you? Unmask yourselves, you pitiful cowards!" Straaten and Autome, repositioned themselves so they were sitting in front of the fuming Royal in order to protect her from any possible curses. "What do you want with her?"

The tallest, and undoubtedly the strongest of the group, cackled. "That should be obvious, we have been hired to kill you four, and we were promised great rewards for doing so." The small, smoky grey orb that was embedded into the foreheads of each of the figures, the only thing that could be seen on their shadowed faces save for their glowing yellow eyes, glowed a sickly brownish-green color before swirling into a moldy yellow.

"Your highness!" Straaten looked back at the woman he was supposed to protect, silently begging for her help. But he needn't do so; she was already working on saving all four of their lives. Her eyes glowed a deep blue, shrouding their beautiful, green irises. The light was coming out of her body in fits and spurts; the blue appeared almost black it was so dark.

"Useless." A dart of electricity fired from each of the four.

A bright flash of white light blinded the opposing magicians.

Then....nothing.

Only four figures remained in the room.

"Did we get them, Groote-Nusen?" One of the fatter assistants asked hesitantly.

"Of course not, you imbecile! We've lost them!" The main man pulled back his hood and his face was no longer shadowed. Groote-Nusen glared at the spot the four had been in. He crouched down so he was closer the floor. There was a little lingering flicker of what looked like black flame where the Royal had sat, as well as a splotch of fresh, warm blood.

Groote-Nusen grinned, his rather large proboscus scrunching up. His hands started glowing a pale blue and he grabbed the flame, pulling it open until it was big enough for the four of them to fit through. "But that doesn't mean we can't follow them."

"Any efforts you make...will be useless..." The four triggers were squeezed, but only one shot hit a warm body.

"STA—" A dome of bluish-black light flashed. If you'd blinked you would've missed it, which is what three of the four boys did.

"Did you see that!? Did you see!?"

"See what?"

"Dammit, they were right here! And then this..FLASH! And now they're gone!"

"Um are you sure you..." The three boys looked at where the bodies should've been. "Woah, they're gone..."

"You idiots! And yes I'm s—" Big-Nose didn't get to finish what he'd been about to say, because they, too, disappeared in a flash of light.

"—AN!" Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Butters were....I would say sitting but there was no real floor in the room, if it was a room they were in, granted they were in anything at all. All of it was very confusing. It was an expanse of what looked like infinite pink clouds dusted with blood red shadows, and the surface they were sitting on was textureless, but clearly flat.

Kyle, now suddenly free from his binds, as were the others, was kneeling next to Stan in a heartbeat.

"I'm alright, Kyle. It's not too bad."

"Stan, how can you say that? Have you even looked at yourself?" Kyle's 'annoyed mother' tone wasn't exploding with fear for his friends life, nor was he screaming at the top of his lungs like a frightened school girl. But he was still quite concerned for Stan's overall well being, which is totally reasonable. There was a dark, wet sopt on Stan's hoodie and it was growing bigger by the second.

"Yeah, looks like it stings like a bitch." Cartman poked the wound in Stan's left shoulder.

"AGH! Cartman, you fat fuck, what the hell!?" Stan had taken a shot in the shoulder in effort to protect Kyle from getting a bullet through the head. Seeing as how they teleported to another dimension, or perhaps a space between dimensions, they weren't quite sure, his efforts seemed to have gone to waste.

"I was—" A flash of light similar to the one they'd arrived in appeared before them. And four figures, practically a mirror image of themselves, looked the four boys straight in their eyes. Straaten locked eyes with Stan, The Royal with Kyle, Autome with Cartman, and Botere with Butters.

"Your highness, where have you brought us?" Straaten asked his lady as he stared into the eerily similar body that was sitting but 10 feet from himself, clutching where the magician's attack had hit him.

The redheaded Royal sighed and stood up. "I have brought all of us...to where we could meet our 'other selves.'"

Author's Note

Ok, I know some things are confusing. And I know some references went over some people's heads, especially if you aren't like THE BIGGEST FAN IN THE WORLD AND HAVEN'T LIKE MEMORIZED EVERY EPISODE LIKE I HAVE!!!

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Which is totally ok, by the way.

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Anyway. Things are getting explained right now, but it's gonna get epic :3 this is gonna be one of my longest stories, I can tell you that right now.

Thanks for reading!

-PD