Here's part 2 of "Playing the Game of Revenge"
Wednesday, September 18th 10:00 PM
Kyle pondered, something he did often these days. He checked the street signs. 3 more blocks. Stan and the others were meeting to discuss the chain of murders, including the most recent one of Death. Last week, an article in the newspaper had caught their eye. "Death Dead! The Unimaginable Occurs Yet Again In South Park!" It confirmed one thing: this town was *fucked up*. Kyle shook his head. He shuddered. "Cold night tonight," he muttered. He rounded a corner, trying to ignore the eerie glow cast by the streetlights. He had always been neurotic, paranoid, but now he had a good reason. Suddenly he heard a soft humming in the distance, sort of a whir. He stopped in his tracks and looked around. There was no one in sight. He kept walking. As he neared Stan's street, the noise became louder, and more chilling. Full paranoia fell upon him, his eyes glancing around the abandoned street violently, never keeping his eyes in one place for more than a second. "Hello?" he whispered, too frightened to do the smart thing and run to Stan's house. "Hello?! Who's there?" he said a bit louder, shaking from both cold and fear. The whirring stopped, and he heard someone cough as if clearing their throat. "Hey Kyle, where have you been? I was going out to find you," came Stan's voice from the shadows. "Oh, damn, am I glad to see you. What are you trying to do, scare me to death?!" cried Kyle with relief. The voice from the shadows didn't exactly sound like Stan anymore. "Exactly." A mittened hand reached out from the shadows, and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, lifting him into the air. "What the f*ck are you doing?!" Kyle screamed, hoping it was Stan, or that if it wasn't, at least someone would hear him. "Who are you? What do you want?!" he continued. "Revenge," the voice whispered. "You know what they say: payback's a bitch, but hey, it sure is fun." The voice breathed an evil laugh. Kyle couldn't see a thing in the darkness. "What are you talking about?" Kyle shouted, eyeing the source of the whirring sound with a chill running down his spine. A chainsaw, the only thing he could see in the lamplight, giving it a glimmering effect. "Stan! Kenny! Hell, I'll take *Cartman*! Just someone *help*!!" he shouted. Suddenly he began to think. Just two weeks ago he and Stan had had a meaningful conversation about their friendship. Stan's words returned to him. "I'm just so afraid that I might lose another one of my closest friends..." his voice echoed in his mind. From across the street, a small, squat figure heard distant cries. "What the hell is that?" he said to himself, thinking aloud. Kyle continued in his helpless cries. "I'm sorry, Ike, for all those times I kicked you! I'm sorry, Cartman, you're not fat-well, maybe you are, but what the f*ck, when you think about it, it doesn't really matter!" "Ay!" cried the figure from across the street. Cartman strained his ears to hear more. What was going on? "Silence, you fool!" the voice hissed. "Soon you'll have nobody to cry to save the angels in Heaven..or should I say the devils in Hell." "OK, this is *not cool*! This is defiantly *NOT COOL AT ALL*!!" Kyle screamed frantically, struggling to get away, but the attacker held fast. Cartman knew his friend was in trouble. Not thinking, he ran blindly across the street, screaming in a desperate attempt to get the killer's attention.
"Where are they?" Stan stared out the window, searching for his friends. "They should have been here an hour ago..." He walked to the couch in the living room and sat down. He didn't hear the cries of Kyle and Cartman from down the street.
Cartman ran wildly across the street. The killer didn't seem to take notice.
"You've gotten too close to solving this crime wave, Mr. Brofloski," the killer said as it raised the chainsaw high in the air and brought it down, hard on the desperate Kyle. His body split in half in a mass of blood and gore. The killer laughed evily. Suddenly Cartman stopped in his tracks. The small streetlight cast its glow upon the corpse of Kyle. It was mangled and broken. All Cartman could do was stare. "Kyle," he murmured. The killer swiftly turned in the direction of the small, child-like voice. Cartman was not aware of it advancing on him. He couldn't speak. He couldn't move. He was to shook up from the sight of one of his best friends murdered. The killer stalked Cartman from the shadows for a minute or so, until Cartman turned to run. The killer jumped toward him and grabbed his neck. "Don't move." Cartman shook all over. "If you breathe a word of this to anyone," the killer hissed, "I will be forced to do away with you. Understand?" Cartman nodded frantically. The killer released its grip. "Good." The silhouette of the murderer sank away into the darkness. When Cartman knew he was alone for sure, he turned back to Kyle's body. It was gone. No trace of it remained. No blood. No corpse. No nothing. It was strange to Cartman. But, even so, all he could think about were two things: Kyle was dead. And if Cartman told anyone, he'd end up like Kyle for sure. He had forgotten about going to Stan's house a long time ago, so he began the long walk home.
Thursday, September 19th 7:15 PM
Stan had tried not to cry. All day, since 7:00 AM he had been devastated. In the morning paper, he had read, "Kyle Brofloski, age 8, dismembered in the night. Bloody corpse found in graveyard." His best friend: gone. Nothing was left of him but his memory. The funeral would be on Saturday, he supposed. But he didn't want to think of that now. All he wanted to do was avenge Kyle. In other words, find his killer and... "Oh, Stanley. I just heard the news. Your little friend, Kyle, was killed yesterday," Mrs. Marsh burst into Stan's thoughts. "Don't talk to me, mom," Stan said, biting his lip. "Would you like some ice cream ho-" Stan turned swiftly to her, "YOU could be the killer, mom! You could have killed Kyle and Chef and Mephesto and Mr. Garrison!" "I'll take that as a no..." and she left. Stan pounded his fist on the table next to him. He looked to the telephone. He picked up the receiver and began to dial Kyle's number out of habit. He suddenly realized: Kyle was dead. No more Kyle. Can't call him on the phone, can't talk to him on the street. Can't trade homework answers, can't share secrets. Never again. Stan dropped the receiver back into its cradle. He sighed and his head dropped into his hand. Then he picked up the receiver again. He had to talk to *someone*. He knew his parents would never understand. He couldn't talk to Kenny, because he didn't have a phone, and he'd probably laugh at Stan for mourning over the dead anyway. The only alternative was...Cartman. Sure, he wasn't the best choice, but Cartman was someone to talk to, at least. "H-hello?" Cartman answered the phone. He seemed shooken up from the night before. "Hey, dude. It's Stan..." "Is it true? Is it really true?" "Yeah...how ya holding up?" "Eh...O...OK, I guess." "I still can't believe he's really gone." "I...I'm sorry..." "For what?" "I know he was your best friend and..." thoughts began to run through Cartman's head. He knew that he couldn't tell Stan, but he knew in his heart that he had to. It was like his duty. "Uh, Stan? Can I come over?" "Sure, dude. I actually could use some company...bye. See you in a minute." "Bye."
Cartman uneasily eyed the street from his doorstep. Nobody in sight. He took the step off of the stoop and started for Stan's house. Thoughts were racing. "What will happen to me? Will the murderer find out? How am I going to go about this?" All of his life, Cartman had never been more serious about anything. Also, had never been more frightened and confused. And he was frightened and confused quite often. Suddenly, a chill swept over him. He knew that chill all too well. He broke into a run. Being Cartman, he couldn't run very far, or very fast, without taking a break. He bent over, panting. He looked about for a street sign or something that would direct him, but no. He was about to begin his run again, but suddenly a hand wrapped itself around his neck. "Do you want to die fast, or slow?" said the voice. "Eh...eh...I'd rather neither, but-" Any nearby listening would hear a slight crack, a muffled groan, and then silence. "This is what happens to meddlers," the killer whispered as it swept up Cartman's body and deposited it at Stan's door. It rang the doorbell and disappeared into the darkness.
Tuesday, September 24th (We'd give you the time, but our watch broke :) )
Stan was being driven slowly but inevitably towards madness. Almost all of his friends, and almost all adults he had been close to outside of his family, were gone. He shut himself up in his room, refusing to talk to anyone, looking over the murders one by one, analyzing them, Cartman and Kyle's the most. Something seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it. He began getting brief flashes of Kenny, the sole survivor besides him, getting run over like Barbrady, impaled like Mr. Garrison, shot like Ned, burnt to a crisp like Mephesto and Chef. Stan confirmed it. He was going crazy. But it seemed so real, so crisp in his memory. And he thought of something. Why was Kenny one of the sole survivors? Why did he get these visions of Kenny's death? He never had before..it wasn't insanity, he knew it. "No, he wouldn't.." Then Stan remembered something Kenny had said. "Anyone can have a reason to kill an idiot, it's just a matter of whose life he screws up first." Suddenly, each image came back to him, clearer and more detailed. Kenny was run over, and thedriver of the car was Barbrady. Stan stood straight up. Another flash of memory. Garrison, in an attempt to murder Gifford, had accidentally shot Kenny, and the wounded boy had wound up impaled-.. "On the flagpole!" shouted Stan. Another flash. Ned. The gun had jammed, and went off when it hit the ground, hitting and killing-no! "No!" Stan shouted, not believing it. "It's not physically possible. But screw physics. Motive, motivation, one of the sole survivors, it has to be-" Stan clenched his fists. "How dare he? He took my best friends. He took *his* best friends. Well..now I'm taking him."
Wednesday, September 25th 10:00 (We fixed our watch :) )
Stan clutched the knife with his right hand, his left hand over his eyes, straining to see the figure in the dim lamplight. But it was him, Stan was sure of it. Kenny stood at the other end of the street, clutching a gun by his side, probably the murder weapon for his next murder, Stan supposed. "It was you all along, wasn't it?" Stan muttered. Kenny turned in confusion. "ALL ALONG!" Stan shouted, his voice rising in fervor. "What? Dude, what the hell are you talking about?" asked Kenny in his high-pitched muffle. "Oh, right, all innocence. I know it was you, Kenny, you who killed Cartman, Barbrady, Garrison, Ned, Chef, KYLE!!" Stan said, shouting the last name. Stan raised his knife. "Who's going to die *tonight*, Kenny McCormick? Either me or you. And, damnit, it's not going to be me." "You're crazy, Stan, we'd better-" "I AM *NOT* CRAZY!" Stan screamed. "Enough! It's over! *End of game*!" He leapt at Kenny. Kenny was taken aback, and was tackled with little force. Stan held the struggling form down. He raised the knife high. "Dirty.." he missed, stabbing the knife to the left. It was too dark to see. "Little.." he stabbed again. To the right. "BASTARD!" he screamed, bringing the knife down a third time. But before it could hit it's mark, Stan was pushed back by a burst of force that came from nowhere. Kenny still lay on the alley floor, dazed. "Get him down!" cried a voice, and a short form tackled Stan. A medium-sized form held him down. The tall form grabbed his own knife out of his hand, raising it into the sky, ready to bring it down. "Partners in crime, Kenny?" asked Stan with a cynical laugh. "Kenny had no part in this at *all*, Stan," said the tall figure with a chuckle, bringing the knife to her side. "Though I suppose you could say he was..*inspiration* for it all." The short one laughed. Stan's smile faded. He realized that he had just about killed the only friend he had left. Then he realized that he really wouldn't have to worry about friends much longer... "Kenny," he shouted, "I'm sorry for suspecting you! I-I should have known! Will you forgive me before..." "Aw, isn't this cute?" the tall one said. "So...emotional!" the voice rose with a false sob. The others laughed. "Damnit, Lindsay! You're good!" the short one said. "Thanks, Kim." "Who-who are you?" Stan choked out. "Oh, you don't know us, Stan," the still unnamed figure said, "but we know you quite well." "Kenny!" Stan screamed out in desperation. Kenny was still dazed and could not hear a word anyone was saying. "Oh, look on the bright side: you'll be with your friends!" The unnamed girl said. "No sympathizing with the prisoners, Alyssa," Lindsay reprimanded. "Aw, c'mon. He's Kenny's friend...Kenny makes *good* friends," said Alyssa, a light red touching her cheeks. "Alyssa, Kenny is a cartoon. You cannot flirt with, f*ck, go on a date with, or even interact with a cartoon," Kim pointed out. "Oh yeah?" said Alyssa, "then what do you call what we're doing now?" "Killing a cartoon," said Lindsay with a chuckle, "and let's get it over with it right now." She raised the knife high once again. Suddenly Stan began to have flashbacks of his life. They weren't sad, not at all, but happy and filled with love. The four, Kyle, Stan, Kenny, and Cartman, had been friends since they were babies. For the eight years of their short lives, they had endured so much. So many moments had been shared that Stan had taken for granted. He remembered that hunting trip that the four boys had taken not only a year ago with his uncle Jimbo. He remembered late night talks with Kyle about the day. He remembered the science project that the four had worked on all together, and though that project had been a bit bizarre, they'd still gotten an 'A'. Not long after their parents had gone away to protest 'Terrance and Phillip'. They had played together often those days without parents, and had a good time acting slightly reckless. Then he remembered Cartman's search for his father. Kyle and he had given up three thousand dollars for a DNA test to help in the search. Stan regretted that that was one of the only times they had shown true friendship toward Cartman. Then he remembered, just a few months ago, the boys had spent a full day at the pool. That had to be the best time they had ever spent together. The friendship between them had blossomed that day with full force. "I'm glad we're friends." Cartman's voice echoed in his head, the voice of the ignorant, but lovable Cartman, the Cartman he'd never see again. And Kyle, his best friend out of all of them, he'd have to say. He'd loved him like a brother, and now he was gone. Suddenly Kenny realized what was happening. "STAN!" "It's too late now, boy," Kim shouted, "he's going to die. He tried to kill you, Kenny!" "I don't care! He's my friend! My...only friend...because of you!" "That's it!" Lindsay cried. She plunged the knife into Stan's chest, hard. "NO!" Kenny cried. Lindsay laughed at the satisfaction of the kill. She drew the bloody knife out of Stan. "OK, girls! Let's scram!" "Bye, Kenny!" said Alyssa, with a small smile. "Not now, Alyssa," Kim said, pulling Alyssa away to follow Lindsay into the shadows. Kenny knelt before the corpse. "No..." He looked toward his belt. He drew out a gun that he was using for protection. He turned his head to the sky and shouted, raising his gun into the air, "I swear to you! I will get them!! They will pay!!"
Wednesday, September 25th 10:30 PM
"So, you killed Stan?" asked another teenager, taller and seemingly older than the rest. Kenny sighed. Another one? "Well, sure, yeah. He was going to kill Kenny. So we," Lindsay balled her left hand into a fist and punched it into her right palm. "dismembered him." "Well, I'm not pissed..about that," said the teen, seemingly their leader, looking down at the three. "You pissed, Val?" said Kim, a little too cocky. "Pissed? Pissed isn't the word! I'm totally *infuriated*! You-you killed Stan right in front of him! You *talked* to him! You told him who we were!" Val cried. "So what? He's a little hooded boy!" said Lindsay. "Yeah, and we killed off nearly every adult in South Park there is! Who's he gonna go whining to?" asked Kim. "Now don't go bad-mouthing Kenny," said Alyssa with a small smile. All three turned to her simultaneously. "Shut *up* Alyssa!" Kenny took them off their guard. Drawing the gun, he walked towards the four, weapon raised. "You..MOTHERF*CKERS!" he screamed. "No.." Kim whispered. "You *see*?" said Val, grasping for her pistol. Kenny jumped to Lindsay, for she was the closest one to him. He held his gun up to her head, "Nobody move!" he shouted. Val put her pistol back into her belt. "Kim?" Lindsay said, "you'd help your bestest best friend wouldn't y-" "Shut the f*ck up and get down on the f*cking floor!!" Kenny shouted to Lindsay. "Yes," Lindsay said, "Mr. McCormick." She knelt down on her knees. "Everyone down, or she dies," Kenny hissed. "Get down, get down," Lindsay said to herself. Everyone knelt as Lindsay did. "Now," said Kenny, "I know who killed Stan...it was all of you, but who killed Kyle?." "I guess I'm the guilty party" said Lindsay as she put a hand up in the air. Kenny pressed the gun into her skull. "Damn, that's gonna leave a mark," Lindsay muttered. "The *bullet's* gonna leave a mark if you don't shut up," Kenny said through gritted teeth. "Hoo boy." Lindsay resolved to be silent. "All right. Everyone empty your pockets and put down your weapons," Kenny said firmly. Kim smiled and took out a short length of cord from her pocket and dropped it on the floor. Then she dropped a small pistol. "You may as well tie me up," she said with a cocky smile. "The hands are weapons too." "Cartman," he said, glaring at her. She nodded Alyssa went next. She lifted a blowtorch and several grenades out of a large pouch around her waist. "Let me guess, Mephesto, Chef, and Middle Park?" asked Kenny, looking at the explosives. "Smart boy," Alyssa said. "Always knew you were." "Your turn, Lindsay," said Kenny, the gun digging further into her skull. "You know, that *really* hurts!" she said, wincing. "That's the point. Drop your weapons." "OK, just let me stand up.." Lindsay stood. Kenny was close behind, digging the gun, now, into her waist, a little too short to reach the head. Lindsay dug into her pockets and drew out a small pocket knife, two larger ones, and the knife she used on Stan. Then she reached into her belt and pulled out a pistol, a small laser, and a DD4 Distoval. She bent back down and reached into her sock and pulled out a Cougar Magnum. She stood back up and reached into her belt on the backside. She drew out a lead pipe. "OK," she said, smiling, "all done!" "Oh, I think there's one more thing, Lindsay," said Kenny with a bitter smirk. "*You* know what it is." Lindsay sighed. "The chainsaw is in the back." "OK, *Val*, your turn." Val reached into her belt and pulled out a single pistol. "Protection," she muttered. "That had better be all of them, girls, or you get it...All right. I have something very important to say." Kenny paused. "Something seemed familiar from the beginning. And now I know. You were trying to avenge me, weren't you?" he gave a bitter half-laugh. "You-you...I know that you meant well...but look what you've caused here! Before...before Stan died, he had thought that I had killed all of these people. He had gone crazy because Kyle had died. You turned him against me. You turned everything upside down. You murdered everyone that I was close to, except my mom and dad. You-you," Kenny began to cry, but he tried to hold it back, "you ruined my life! Everything I ever lived for is gone!! If I weren't immortal, I-I'd kill myself and be with my friends! But no. You see, God made me an immortal for a good reason. What it is, I have no idea, but that's not the point. The point is, you don't try to change God's will. And another thing,by trying...by trying to avenge me, you destroyed me. You destroyed it all! Now I have to live all eternity with this on my shoulders. All because of YOU!!" he aimed the gun at Val. She just stared at him, not saying a word. "And YOU!!" he turned to Lindsay. She didn't move. "ALL OF YOU!!" he turned wildly about aiming at all of the girls in the room. He paused and broke down. He kneeled on the floor and sobbed. He looked up a minute, "What if *I* killed you all? It'd be like what you did to me..." he paused."But I'm not like that. I don't kill or destroy to get revenge. I'm going to let you live knowing that you destroyed me trying to help...I'll let you live knowing what scum you are. I'll-I'll be going now..." he snatched up his gun and stood. He took one last look at the girls, wiped his eye, and headed out of the room.
The next day the four girls left South Park, nothing to mark their passing. The town had never noticed them to begin with. They returned to their simple lives, but those who once knew them said they seemed different. They seemed bitter..they seemed scarred, like they carried a heavy weight in their hearts.
The murders ceased, and the killer never *was* found. Only Kenny and the girls knew why. Valerie removed the 'Kenny's Revenge' page from her 'Rights For Kenny' website. She had seen Kenny's revenge, and she had taken part. She knew it only caused pain. Kim and Lindsay were closer friends than ever, aware that they might lose each other. Alyssa no longer saw Kenny as a crush. She saw him as a soul in pain. And all four, living with their guilt, became much closer. It was a long time before they could watch South Park again. When they could finally bring themselves to see how Kenny was faring, they had a bit of a surprise. Kenny was no longer in South Park. A few days after Kenny had confronted Stan, Kyle, and Cartman's killers, he had left South Park. He couldn't stay there a day longer. He moved on to a new town under a new name. His deaths were as ignored as before. The only one who treated them differently was Kenny himself. He looked upon his deaths as a release. What had once moved four girls to unknowingly destroy almost everything he loved and lived for was now a chance to see those murdered again.
THE END
Lindsay: Ok, that's it. And Alyssa, Snow? These characters aren't based on you, and are simply named after you for comedic effect. Alyssa, the crush thing was Kim's idea...ALL KIM'S IDEA!! I said, "It's going to piss her off."
Kim: And I said "So?"
Lindsay: Well, we hope you enjoyed it. If you liked it, tell us. If you fuckin hated it, don't tell us.
Kim: Bye now!
Until next time, goodbye to all you wacky people out there in PC land!
~Lindsay :)