Right when things started to get better!
Without electricity for a whole day, everything in their freezer was lost and a day of work as well, because a mobile company couldn't function without it. Now that they seemed to have been able to repair it, Bebe thought that maybe everything could go back to normal but she as being too optimistic.
The prisoners from the South Park jail had taken the most of the blackout and the confusion it brought. Sergeant Yates had assured the mayor and the citizens that he had it all under control, but they seemed to find a way to fool his secutiry system. The news even affirmed that the rioters had received help from outside the police station. Anyway, now the sergeant was dying at the hospital and the streets were filled with criminals. While Mayor McDaniels did all possible to get help, a help that never seemed to come, criminals of all kinds, from simple traffic offenders to murderers, roamed South Park, terrorizing it citizens. A curfew was declared and people were advised not to go outside unless it was really necessary and they counted with weapons to defend themselves.
But one had to eat. And not all people could afford to have a gun at home.
When Bebe had to stop the car because there were three men in the middle of the road, she knew she was screwed.
"Hey, baby. Come out here and gimme a kiss." An ugly face contemplated her practically glued to the window.
Bebe tried to lock the doors but it was too late: the man had already opened it. Assisted by another taller man, Bebe was dragged out of the car by the hair.
"NO! NO! LET ME GO! LEAVE ME ALONE!" she screamed.
"Aaah, there, there, kitty, relax. I promise you're going to enjoy this." there was another one, with oriental-looking features, licking his lips lewdly.
Bebe kicked, punched, did all she could to break free, but those men were evidently stronger than her. Did nobody hear her screams?
"Kitty sure loves to fight."
"Well, if she wants to play it rough, we will play it rough."
The tallest man was trying to unbutton her shirt; since he was too eager, he ended up ripping it. Bebe, with her arms held, tried to defend herself in all ways she could: screaming, biting—in a desperate attempt to escape. But the attacker's hands were now on her breasts.
"Leave the girl alone!"
The four of them, victim and attackers, froze. There was someone standing on the roof of the car, a big human shadow. The light from the streetlights revealed two big, piercing eyes a dark eyemask, a grey jacket with a white shirt and gray plus size pants. A long cape waved with the wind and under it, what looked like a furry tail. There was something on the person's head: two animal ears.
"...Who the hell are you?!" the Oriental one yelled.
"You think you're so manly, forcing defenseless women." the mysterious man said.
"Beat it, asshole!"
"Yeah, freak, go away before we rip your guts out!"
"Oh, really? Maye I could rip your guts out with this..."
The person jumped from the car, pouncing on the nearest rapist and violently scratched his face. There was practically no light there, but with the movements of his hands, it was revealed why the attacker was screaming in pain: he had something attached to the tip of his fingers, like hooks or wire, which served as claws.
"Shit!" the tallest individual exclaimed. He pushed Bebe aside and ran to assist his partner.
The disguised invader was evidently expecting that. With a jump, he got up from the floor and received him with a powerful kick to the testicles. When the man was writhing in agony, he grabbed him to punch him four times in the stomach. He then let him fall to the pavement and dealt with the only one standing, the Chinese-looking. He seemed to realize he was no match for that brute, so he was about to run away, but he was grabbed from an arm and this was twisted until a gruesome crack was heard, followed by an intense pain. The masked man made himself heard through the screams of pain.
"Tell everyone you know that the Coon is watching this town and he takes no bullshit."
When he was released, he man fell to the floor, where he contorted in pain for a moment before getting up as well as he could, Bebe kicking him, and running away.
"This is not over, you son of a bitch! I never forget a face!"
Shit, that was her favorite shirt...Covering her bust with her hands, she turned to look at her savior.
"Goodness, if it wasn't for you, I would have..."
But she found herself in the sole company of the wounded criminals—the masked person was nowhere to be seen.
"It is in times of need when heroes rise. Reports claim that a masked vigilante, who refers to himself as The Coon, is patrolling the streets of South Park, punching the life out of criminals. Here we have an anonymous video of him dealing with a bank robber this afternoon. Thanks to him, none of the five hostages have suffered any harm. With the crisis police is suffering, citizens applaud the courage of this person, who makes them feel more secure. Many ask themselves who is this mysterious savior and if he will run for Mayor, since Mrs Daniels has proven to do shit."
"Well, it is so nice that someone had what it takes to defend the town!" Sheila commented.
Ike didn't look away from his plate: he had already seen the news on Twitter. As for Kyle, his eyes were on the television and he was barely chewing. He barely ate anything. He soon left the table and ran to his room to grab his phone and call Stan.
"Dude, did you see the news?"
"You mean The Coon? Yeah!"
[Hey, guys, wasn't that...] Token wrote.
[Somebody call Cartman and tell him to meet at U-Store-It.] Craig added.
[Wendy? You there?] Scott wrote.
[Okay, I'll do it.]
It was not the best quality, but one could perfectly see a person with a fancy suit, a tail and a long red cape punching a woman who had a knife in her hand until she dropped the weapon. The old man who was lying on the floor had a hand placed on his heart, extremely relieved of that strange but opportune apparition.
Craig locked the screen and put the phone back to the back pocket of his pants. He stared at Cartman but he didn't say anything. He was standing there, seeming innocent and clueless, but they knew him for long, they knew it was just a bluff.
"What the hell you think you are doing, Cartman?" Kyle asked.
"I really don't know what you're talking about, guys. That's not me." Cartman replied, his hands behind his back.
"You are. I'd recognize that enormous ass anywhere."
"Hey, watch what you say about my ass!"
"Didn't you say that wasn't your ass?" Token crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow.
["If I must dig into your brain..."], Timmy was raising his hand when Cartman stopped him.
"Alright, alright. Okay, it was me. I...am the Coon."
His big reveal didn't get the reception he supposed it would get.
"Of course we know, Cartman. You used to play superheroes when you were a kid." Stan replied.
"Don't you think you're too old for those games, dude?" Craig said.
"You could have gotten killed!" Tweek exclaimed.
"I know but I'm not afraid." Cartman firmly stated. All his fake innocence was gone, replacing it with determination. "There's a lot of shit going on here, guys. And we can't just look the other way. You talk about the old times, when we used to play. Remember what the game was? Coon and Friends?"
"...I remember. We were all superheroes and had missions and stuff..." Clyde nodded.
"Look at yourselves, guys. You have real superpowers now. You could bring peace and order to this city again if you wanted to." Cartman continued.
"Not so fast, Eric. We can't still quite control our powers." Scott intervened.
"A-Also, saving people in real life's not a ga-game. If they kill you, they kill you for good." Jimmy added.
"So, you're just going to play around with your powers while there's people around here getting killed and assaulted?" Cartman slowly nodded, his lips pursed. "Wow, that's...a very selfish perspective, guys. I didn't expect it from you."
"We're not being selfish. We're just being rational." Kyle asserted. "There's so much going on here. If we screw up, innocent people will pay the consequences and us too. I don't want my family to find out I've been killed in the streets because I was pretending I was an X-Man."
"Alright, alright. I get it. You're just too good for the peasants in this town. Good." He turned around, facing the door.
"That's not what I-"
"No, no, no. I got it. Okay. Keep using your powers to feel cool and shit. If I had them, I'd use them to protect my home—since I have none, I'll have to use what I have. It's alright. Not that I need them to kick ass."
Cartman declared that meeting over, walking away. His friends remained there, looking at one another, not sure of what to say.
"I...actually think he's right..." Clyde shyly declared. "I mean, we're doing nothing with your abilities, when there's lots of scum outside..."
"I'm pretty sure Butters' behind this." Token added. "That guy must be crazy and he's doing all this...Remember what he was? Chaos, yeah. Doctor Chaos or something. Perhaps he's lost his mind too and is playing as the villain. Even if he isn't, we are the only ones who can face him."
"I don't think I want to face anybody. Saving people's not my thing..." Tweek muttered, dealing with his nerves undoing his messy bun to make it again—leaving most of his hair out, as usual.
"If Cartman wants to play superheroes, let him. Sooner or later, he'll get his fat ass kicked and he'll see this is not a game." Kyle said.
"Yeah, I mean, this town's not gone to hell yet. I've seen much more shit after baseball championships." Craig assured.
Kenny, out of the circle, just listened, never voicing his opinion on the matter. Not that someone asked him, anyway.
Had somebody asked him, he would have said that, for once, he agreed with Cartman. South Park did need help. That town was rotten already but with these new riots, going out to the street had become a risky decision. Even if Cartman was a jerk, he had to be thankful about that extra help. While he unloaded all that adrenaline on people's faces, Mysterion would have time to dig into the source of this chaos.
Because another truth had been said that afternoon: Butters had to be behind all of that.
And if Butters was implied, Dougie O'Connell had to know something about it.
He didn't fool him even for a moment. He had been in touch with Butters after his disappearance. He was as sure about it as he was about his own existence. So that night, when he broke into the school, he wasn't surprised.
It was evident that he didn't go there to bring back old memories. He went straight to the old shop class. Mysterion followed him.
"Is somebody there?! Hello?!"
"I think there's no one here..."
"Crap...What do we do now?"
Mysterion frowned. He knew those voices...
Voices which were interrupted by Dougie's voice.
"Well, well, since you seem to enjoy death that much, how about I help you meet it right now?"
And then, a loud, screeching sound. Mysterion recognized it perfectly, because it was a tool that had caused his death several times. A saw.
"Are you joking?! Let us out!"
"Damn!"
Someone had made several changes, turning the class into some kind of twisted execution chamber. There were four people hanging from the ceiling, connected to a mechanism that made them get closer and closer towards the blade. They tried to roll, but they were not able to move—they were strongly tied. They tried and tried, but it was useless. The pulley was taking them ruthlessly towards the saw. The only thing they could do was give up.
"Well, this is the end..." Pete sighed.
"It was a pleasure meeting you guys." Henrietta said.
"See you in hell." Firkle groaned.
The blades were starting to trim the tip of Henrietta's long hair when it suddenly stopped.
A shadow appeared before them.
"Don't move now." a raspy voice spoke.
They were unhanged and placed carefully on the floor, where their leashes were cut. There, now safe, the Goths gasped and trembled. It had been so close that Mysterion let them recover their breath.
"Where is he?"
The Goths looked at him. It was then when Mysterion realized that there were just three of them in front of him. Where was the youngest?
The question was answered soon: he was behind him, with a knife in hand, that he stabbed in the space between his shoulders. Then in his kidney. And once more, hitting the spine.
Mysterion's knees bent and Pete stepped forward. He also had a knife. Removing his hood, he used it to cut his neck. He either had a lot of strength or practice, because he didn't need much time to make Mysterion's body fall on his stomach while his head remained on his hands.
Michael and Henrietta stood up, without a sign of dismay now, and surrounded the corpse.
"Okay, it's done."
"This should be enough. If it works on vampires, it should work on him."
"You think we can keep his head?"
"Yeah, why not? We can make a precious cup with his skull."
Pete was about to hand Henrietta the head when Mysterion's eyes opened so suddenly that she couldn't help gasping. He was looking directly at her.
"Oh, shit!" Firkle exclaimed.
The body was not suffering some kind of post-mortem spasm: it was grabbing his ankle and thenpulled with enough strength to make him fall to the ground. Pete and Henrietta tried to deal with it, but the body stood up with a jump and punched them in the face. Michael tried to stab him with a knife which seemed to have appeared out of nowhere (it was funny but mildly inconvenient how their dark clothes fused them with the darkness of the room), but Mysterion's body kicked it out of his reach and then kicked him in the jaw. Once all of them four were on the floor, he kneeled in front of his head and held it. The Goths witnessed how he placed it gently on his cut neck. They couldn't see it from that perspective but the bones seemed to glue together again, the veins found their way to reconnect and drive blood back, the cut disappeared. What they did see was that Mysterion tilted his head to one side and the other, put his hood back on and then turned around to look at them.
"I am not a vampire." he growled.
He grabbed Michael's long braid, causing him pain.
"You killed me once. Why are you back to your old ways? Trying to bring Cthulhu back?"
"This has nothing to do with Him, let him go!" Pete stood up.
"Then what's the meaning of this? Speak!"
"Don't speak! Let him kill me!" Michael begged his friends, keeping a straight face.
"Did he order you to do this?"
"Don't say a fucking thing!"
"Shut up! Is it Professor Chaos and General Disarray? Huh? Were they?"
None of them spoke but they didn't need to. That was what Mysterion supposed. He let go of Michael's hair.
"Why? Did they blackmail you?"
"No." Henrietta finally confessed. "We did this freely."
"General Disarray found us one night, not too long ago." Pete added. "He told us there was a big thing cooking. Chaos. Like something South Park had never seen before. He suggested us to collaborate. He knew we are fed up with this conformist town and convinced us to join his army or whatever. People who just want to see South Park burn. We set this together. We were supposed to kill you, so the town would lose its hero."
"Where did he go?" Mysterion threatened them.
"He's gone. You're not going to catch him. Even if we didn't get to kill you, we made you lose some precious time."
There was a hint of malice in Henrietta's face when uttering those words. Mysterion didn't respond to them. He turned around and ran out from the class through a window.