Divinity
Act II: Breaking Point
The night had been so hot. There was so much noise and it was all so loud and piercing. The living room window was open, letting in the cold mountain air that danced within and atop Stan's exposed torso. Slowly returning to consciousness, the boy found himself stretched out on the couch, his hat in his right hand, and his left hand draped over his forehead. It was finally daylight, the actual time unclear, though it felt close to noon. Wendy might have been upstairs, but everything was moving so slowly. "Wendy?" Stan called out, sitting up and letting the cold wind blow his flattened black hair around the back of his head. "Wendy?" His voice seemed to echo within his home.
"I'm right here, Stan," Wendy's youthful voice answered. "Wake up, Stan."
Now awake, Stan opened his swollen, weary eyes to find himself in the rock enclosure. Looking forward, the boy saw Tweek standing before him, eyes wide open, relatively motionless until his right eye twitched shut for a second, his shirt torn and buttoned incorrectly, and his usually unkempt hair flattened and clinging to his head. Jerking his jaw downward towards the right, Tweek's head twitched.
"Tweek?" Stan asked, his eyes still adjusting to the light of morning.
Clearing his throat nervously, the anxious little boy smiled. "Hey, Stan," he said in his normal screechy, choked up voice. He had been told ahead of time about what had happened to his friends.
"He found us this morning," Wendy explained, handing her boyfriend an orange. "And he brought food."
"Thanks, man," Stan replied, graciously accepting the citrus from Wendy. "Thank you, Wendy. Do you want me to split this?"
"There's enough for everyone to have a whole one," Tweek declared, clearing his throat at the end of the sentence to avoid seeming condescending. "Try…'Scuse me. Try drinking some of the juice first." The timid child glanced around the room before settling on Wendy.
"Hey, guys," Kyle greeted his friends, entering the cavern with a makeshift sling supporting his broken arm that consisted of a long, straight stick wrapped tightly onto his mid-arm by a worn shirt and supported by the remains of a fabric bag strapped around his neck.
"Oh, god, Kyle, your feet are bleeding," the raven-haired boy exclaimed, looking at the subtle trail of blood behind his best friend. "What happened?"
"I think they're just overly worn," the redhead answered. "I took off my shoes so Kenny could borrow them. What about you? How you feeling?"
"Better, now," Stan answered, sucking on the juice from the fruit. "Thanks, Tweek. How's everyone else?"
"They're holding up," Kyle answered, glancing outside at Butters and Bebe trying to build a sand castle while Kenny sat by the sea, his bare feet cooling in the water. Butters was wearing Kyle's shoes, no doubt at Kenny's request. "We're gonna try to start a fire around noon. Maybe it'll last all night this time."
"And leave a smoke signal to any nearby boats," Wendy added, taking a seat beside her boyfriend.
"How 'bout you?" Stan asked, looking sternly at Kyle.
"I'm fine," the Jewish boy quickly replied. "I'm just…I don't know, out of it. You're looking better, though."
"Don't bullshit me, man," Stan chuckled, looking back at the graying shape that was once his arm. "I know they're gonna have to cut it off… I just feel so useless like this. I can't help you guys, someone has to stay with me."
"Don't beat yourself up, Stan," Wendy argued. "You're not exactly in the lap of luxury like this. Besides, we'll find a way to save your arm."
His throat starting to swell, the raven-haired boy flashed a quick, sorrowful smile onto his face. "I just need to get free," he declared, his voice reduced to something just above a whisper. "I don't want this anymore."
Staring at the rock that now seemed one with the arm, Kyle felt himself start to break up. There was something wrong, but this felt like the right choice. "We don't have the tools right now," he finally said, coming across as almost desensitized towards the severity of the matter. "Once we do…I think I might know how to do it."
"What?" Wendy demanded, truly shocked.
Tweek's heart began to beat faster as his stomach turned ill. His ticks were flaring up and coming faster with each passing second. This was too much. "Holy shit!" the blond boy exclaimed, his cracking voice echoing slightly within the rocks. Butters glanced at the group, somewhat able to distinguish faces in the shadows.
"We don't have a choice," Stan defended. "If people don't come and find us, this thing could kill me. It has to be done soon."
Turning away from the waves for a moment, Kenny watched Craig stand in place, appearing to be flipping off the ground. There was a slight, cool wind for a moment, and it brought the hooded little boy back to the sea.
"Hey, Kenny," Cartman said in a calm voice, taking a seat next to his friend. "You're thinking about Karen?"
"…Yeah," Kenny finally confessed, his hood muffling his words. "I haven't gone this long without talking to her since she was born. And she has no idea where I am now…You're worried about your mom?"
"Hell yeah," the overweight boy sadly admitted. "I promised I'd call her before we got there…If we don't make it back…I'm gonna die with her thinking I hate her." Cartman began to clear his throat and conceal his tears, only to feel someone take his hand away.
"She knows you wouldn't hate her," Kenny comforted his friend, his voice gentle. "Don't doubt that. I know being away from her is tearing you up."
"It's stupid," Cartman answered. "I mean, I miss her…really bad. I just…it's like I can't concentrate on anything. I'm so fucking pissed off most of the time now…You know what? Screw it. It's…" Eric abruptly got up and started walking away. "It's stupid."
"Cartman!" Kenny called out. Eric didn't look back or stop. Weak and helpless, the hooded blond boy just watched, his soul weighed down with sorrow, failure, and guilt. I'm sorry, he confessed. Looking out towards the oceanic horizon, trying to avoid glances at the sun, Kenny saw an image of a little girl slowly dancing atop the water. Shocked, he stood up, fully grounded in reality. The child was, without doubt or question, Karen: She was here. Overcome by his feelings, the blond boy smiled, seeing himself reunited with his wonderful baby sister, and slowly walked into the water. Step by step, his body became submerged deeper and deeper into the cool ocean's waves, never truly getting closer to his sister. Karen, he called out, knowing she could hear him without words. Suddenly, an unseen force took hold of him and pulled him back, knocking the hooded child underwater. The same force pulling him back onto his feet, Kenny lost sight of the girl, no longer wishing to go forward.
"What the hell are you doing?" Bebe demanded as she dragged the blond boy onto the beach. "You were up to your neck, your clothes are soaked, there's no way you could've swam with that coat on…"
"I thought I saw her," Kenny explained, his voice weak and humbled. "I was so close…I didn't mean to hurt anyone."
"Take off everything," the blond girl instructed. "You're gonna get hypothermia and be dead by tonight, Kenny. We've got a fire going, so sit down by there. We'll try to get your clothes dry as soon as possible."
"I'm sorry," Kenny gave in, growing depressed and ashamed.
"No, Kenny, it's not your fault, it's just…" Bebe replied. "Have you had anything to eat or drink today? You're probably dehydrated."
"I can't remember," the hooded boy confessed, unbuttoning his coat. "I don't need to eat alot, Bebe."
"You're half starved, Kenny," the girl argued. "You need food and water more than any of us…Even Cartman." The two began to laugh, causing Kenny to double over and squeal without control, just like when he was a baby. Managing to settle herself down, Bebe looked at her friend. "You have a beautiful laugh. You know that?" Kenny finally took his hood down and removed his coat, revealing his pure, playfully unkempt blond hair, soft cheeks, large, doe-like eyes, compassionate aura, and glorious smile. All things considered, he was angelic. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you without your hood on before."
"Really?" Kenny asked, his voice calm and gentle. Bebe nodded. Watching from a distance, Butters saw the two and smiled before continuing on his castle.
"It's just too weird," Craig explained to Tweek. "I don't even know how we got here." Unable to settle himself, Tweek twitched, blinked repeatedly, and ruffled his nose as his friend spoke: It was all habit and no mentality or consent. "Now…every time I try to touch it, I start thinking of his hideous things. It scared me when it first started, but now I'm starting to like it. I feel horrible for days after it, but…what do you do with all that?"
"I'm not sure," Tweek screeched, avoiding eye contact at all costs. "Maybe…talk to your priest, er…something." I have to get out of here…my medication's running out. Oh, god, I don't know what's gonna come out if I come off it.
"I don't know," Craig answered, staring at the ground. "I hate it. I hate what's down there. I just…I can't stop." Tweek put his arm around his friend, resting his hand on Craig's left shoulder.
"It has to be you, Kyle," Stan declared, his voice gentle. "You're the only one I want to see me like this. I'm sorry for that, though."
"I know you are," Kyle accepted, grinding a small knife against a rock lodged in place near the cave wall. The boy's outward composure had been breaking down from what was inside of him: The disbelief towards the whole situation made his forehead subtly wrinkle, the fear for his family, especially Ike, caused his heart to pound frequently, guilt and apprehension for what he would have to do kept him from sleeping and left his eyes bloodshot and surrounded by dark bags, and the feeling of helplessness and anxiety sickened his stomach and prevented him from eating what he needed, leaving him thin and slightly gray. "It's not your fault, dude. Shit happens."
"Speaking of which," the raven-haired boy replied. "How's your arm doing?"
"It hurts, but I'll be alright," the redhead answered. Hearing rocks rumbling together, Kyle turned around.
"Hey, Kyle," Wendy said, climbing down into the gulch along with Butters. "Bebe and Kenny need your help with something."
"Oh…okay," the Jewish young man answered before turning back to Stan. "You'll be okay, man. It'll be over before you know it." Pausing for a moment, the redheaded little boy smiled at his friend; that smile that only Kyle Broflovski could make.
"I know," Stan smiled back, his voice just above an intimate whisper. With that, Kyle walked towards the rise, where Butters jumped onto the ledge and climbed up and Wendy crouched down to allow the wounded child to step up on her back. From there, Butters took Kyle's right hand and helped pull him up onto ground level. The two shared a quiet conversation as they walked towards their friends on the beach, unaware that Stan was watching them.
"Stan…" Wendy nervously began. "I'm sorry to put you through this, but…I had the dream again last night."
"Which one?" Stan asked, his concern sincere. For an instant, a flash of subtle but sharp pain flared through his crushed arm, causing him to wince for a second without his girlfriend noticing.
"The one where we leave here," the raven-haired little girl answered, struggling to maintain eye contact. "When we're back home…and I'm all by myself at night. Then, I start eating…and eating and eating. Like an animal…but I just have this…appetite. In the end, I'm so fat and bloated I can't hardly move, but it feels right. Then you walk in, and you're the same as me. And we have this appetite…and then we…and it's like something out of a horror movie. But we're hungry for it. All our vices. I hate myself."
"…I hate me too," the blue-eyed boy agreed, his voice close to cracking.
We've been here almost three weeks now, Kyle explained to himself. No one's coming to save us. Haven't seen one animal this entire time. At least that means nothing's out there to come after us. Our food source is starting to run low. I can't shake the feeling that something's wrong. I'm gonna have to operate on Stan soon. Bebe told me something I can't understand or forget. It gets so cold here at night. But it's so hot every day. I don't think my arm is healing. The pain's gone, but it's still…ugly. None of our scars are fading here. Kenny's been way too close to the water. Bebe watches him, but there's something wrong with him. Wendy and Stan are getting quiet, just like Cartman. Tweek and Craig are getting emaciated. Butters is scared all the time now. At this point, I can't remember what my house looked like. I see Ike sometimes. I know he's now there, but it gives me comfort to hold him. The winds here just aren't the same: It's like they're whispering. I'm so tired. There's no moon or stars tonight.
"They say that nature is Satan's church," Craig declared, hugging his knees against his chest.
"Then what's this place?" Bebe replied, her spine chilled. "I can't sense a heaven from here. Do you feel anything?"
"I haven't felt anything since we got here," the black-haired boy answered plainly. "This is hell…It's just hell. If there is a hell, we're living in it. We've been here too long, Bebe…We're breaking."
"I think we've already broken," the young woman replied. "We're corpses walking and eating: We are sin." Bowing his head in shame, Craig pointed his middle finger against his head and raised his thumb to form a gun-shape. "Where would we go?" Bebe questioned the boy's suicidal gesture. "This is hell…where would we go?"
"I think we'd just cease of exist," Craig sorrowfully answered. "We've got no souls… Nothing immortal inside of us. All we have is misery, and our vices." Silence filled the air around the two.
"What's that mean for everyone around us?" the blond girl replied, growing nervous. Craig looked away. "We can't ever leave…can we?"
"…No," the black-haired boy sighed, his heart shattered. "Never. This is the only place where things like us can be."
"…Is there a God?" Bebe asked the winds, her emotions fading slowly. The answer was clear inside of the monster within. "We have to be there when they cut Stan."