A/N: Yayyyyy it's Kyle's birthdayyyyyyyy
Okay. Nuff cheers.
Hope no one got Kyle jeans for today 'cause he won't be needing themmmm : D
If there's one thing that you learn when you grow up in South Park, it's that you need to expect the unexpected. So much crazy shit happens around here that we've become the living representation of Darwinism. Idiots who don't learn to run get crushed or eaten or abducted by aliens while the rest of us come out of the situation and life resumes per normal.
I've always been told that I'm one of the ones who's always ready, that I'm like the cat of this town. I can easily slip out of trouble if need be and find a way to solve it if it all comes down to me. It's something that I've always held with some degree of modest pride; being the last one standing and all that. I'm one of the smallest guys in my senior class, so you'd expect me to be one of the first ones down, but such is not the case.
I look over as I pass a building that's half-collapsed from that bomb planted in it yesterday. It wasn't too horrible, only six or seven casualties. Hell, that may be a record for this town.
My cell phone starts blaring and I sigh, rolling my eyes as I recognize it as my house's ringtone. I pull it out of my pocket and slide it open, briskly slamming it up to my ear. "Yea?"
"Kyle Broflovski, where are you?"
I sigh irritably, "I'm on a walk, Ma."
"I made you this dinner and you just decide to take a walk? Get home right now young man!"
"Not interested, Ma."
"Kyle, your grandparents are here to see you for your birthday. The very least you can do is show up for your own dinner!"
I take a deep breath and shake my head. "It'll be awhile, I'm clear downtown," I say, looking around at the buildings surrounding me.
"You better hurry up and get home," she orders before the other line clicks. I slide my phone shut and roll my eyes again, placing it back into my pocket angrily. I'm fucking eighteen as of today and she still treats me like I'm six or something. I turn roughly on my heel, starting to tromp back off in the direction of my house.
I hear a clanging and a soft mewl and turn again, finding a silhouette of a young cat against the sidewalk under a burnt-out street lamp. It looks up at me, its eyes flashing in the dark and lets out a soft meow. I look back and forth for an owner, moving towards it as I spot no one. I kneel down a few feet from it and outstretch my hand. It flinches slightly before bringing its nose up to my fingertips and sniffing lightly. It brushes me with its whiskers before rubbing its cheek over my hand. I scoot forward and gently grab underneath it, lifting it up into my arms. I pull it against my chest and it stares up at me, its eyes glinting almost evilly in the moonlight. I get to my feet, feeling around its neck for a collar. My nail collides with a dangling piece of metal and I smirk.
"Runaway, huh? Your mom trying to make you be all sociable, too?"
It just sniffs at my jacket, occasionally nipping at the fabric with light bites. I can hear it purring lightly as I run my fingers through the soft, thick fur on its neck and back. Suddenly, it jerks its head up and stares across the street.
"What?" I ask it, my face dropping almost immediately at my own stupidity. The feline bounds out of my grasp and trots across the desolate street. I blink, starting to turn to continue back to my house before my consciousness kicks into gear per usual. That's somebody's cat, it needs to go home.
I hate my morals sometimes.
I quickly pursue the cat down into an alleyway between one of our generic clothing stores and the Tweeks' coffeehouse. "Cat, get back here," I order it. Surprise, surprise, it doesn't follow my command. I hear a thump behind the large green dumpster and sigh, walking over towards it. "Ya know, I'm tryin' to help, the least you could d-" I stop as I come to the other side and find myself staring down at a man with a black ski mask covering his face. He smiles through the mouth hole and I gulp lightly. "S-Sorry, I'm uh...looking for a cat..." I stumble with my explanation before turning to try to keep going after the furry mischief maker.
My arm is roughly pulled and I look to see him on his feet, locking my arm in a death grip. "Leaving already?" he asks. I stare at his grotesquely large form and narrow my eyes.
"Yes, let go," I say, trying to wrench my arm out of his grip.
"But...we're not even having fun yet," he pouts mockingly. "You don't wanna go before the fun, do you, Ginger?"
I blink at him a few times. "What do you want?"
His pout twists into a snarling, sadistic smile. "Why," he drops his voice, "we just wanna have some fun with you."
"We?" I blink. We stare at each other in heavy silence for what seems to be an eternal moment.
My other arm is suddenly snared and I break off my eye lock with the first man to turn and find another one tightly securing my left arm. My eyes widen and I try to thrash out of their hold. They keep tight and pull me forward, putting me against the bricks of the coffeehouse. I swallow heavily, my eyes darting between the two of them nervously. The first man grins, looking over behind me.
"Come get this arm," he states. Another dark-clad figure comes up and presses my arm down as the larger one moves away behind me. The two holding me pull me up and quickly twist me around. Before I can catch my ground and run off, I find myself pinned to the wall again. I shake my head lightly and raise my eyes to the first one and scowl.
He cocks his head and grins, "Something wrong?"
"What the fuck are you doing?" I ask lowly, feeling my anger steadily bubbling.
He chuckles darkly and my stomach lurches. He leans in towards me and grabs the collar of my jacket with both hands, forcefully the layers apart like they were made of paper. My heart beats faster and I squirm around, kicking my feet out.
"Stop!" I shout. He growls, slapping me across the face and grabbing my chin, yanking me forward.
"You don't speak, you understand?" He growls, breathing heavily in my face. In the moonlight, I can make out dark eyes behind the mask. The nauseatingly familiar aroma of cheap cologne and cheesy poofs invades my nostrils and my face drops.
"Cartman?" I shriek. His eyes widen before he grasps my hair and slams my head back into the wall. My lashes flutter several times before I look to see him tearing off his mask, revealing his chubby face.
"Pretty good for a Jew, Kahl," he drawls out.
"What the hell are you trying to pull this time?" I shout, my senses still tumbling around in my skull. I watch as he raises his fist and brings it back into my cheek, sending my head back against the bricks again. I groan, tasting that all-too-familiar copper along my tongue. "You fucking...s-stalking me or s-something?" I stammer, watching as two versions of him cross before my eyes.
He stares at me for a minute before chuckling darkly once more. "Hold him," he says simply. The two holding my arms press my limbs harder against the bricks and I feel my bones aching under the pressure. The one on the right slaps his hand over my mouth and pushes my head against the wall. I cry out and try to wriggle away from their grasp. My eyes dart between the two of them on my side as I try to make out their forms. I can't fucking see anything but black masks and lean builds, these two could be fucking anyone for all I know.
Cartman steps up right in front of me and leans down towards my face, smiling evilly. "I said to be quiet, Kahl."
I narrow my eyes and scream at him from under this fucker's hand, kicking my feet out in a fury. He slams his fist into my stomach and I gasp for air all that I can before he grabs my hair and pulls my head upright again. I stare at him through tear-laced eyes and make out his amused expression with rage percolating in my stomach. He leans down, our noses touching with his warm breath rebounding off my face. He closes his eyes, his grin twisting up more sadistically and I try to pull away again, not able to do much more than slide around against the wall.
"You gonna do this, Fatboy or are we gonna just hold him all day?" the person on my right asks impatiently. I try to distinguish a voice, but it was too distorted past the speedy thudding of my heart to really narrow it down to anyone.
"Shut up," Cartman murmurs, backing up slightly and staring at my face. I shake lightly and he laughs. "Scared Kahhlll?" he drawls out.
I shut my eyes and shake my head, growling from beyond the palm over my lips. I arch my chest up off the wall and try to pry myself out of their arms. Cartman puts his hand over my chest and pushes me back down. I feel a hand on my leg and shoot my eyes down, finding the mystery freak on my right side holding onto my thigh tightly. Cartman tightens his grip on my chin and forces me to look up at him. I blink rapidly at his smug face and he smirks sideways. I feel him move from my chest and reach down to grab my pant line.
I shriek and try to move away as he tears apart the button and forces the zipper down. He punches my face again and I feel a stray tear worm its way out of my eye and trail down my face. My hearts beating too loudly and my mind is racing far too quickly for me to comprehend the three of them laughing around me as the fatass tries to work my jeans down. I continue screaming for help, trying to rip my arms away and punch these fuckers in the jaw. I slam my eyes shut and turn my head to the side, taking heavy, rapid breaths through my nose as I feel my pants down around my thighs. I feel his chunky fingers trailing around my body and screech shakily again, tears free-falling off my face. I can feel his breath on my face as he leans in towards me. Something wet trails up my cheek and I nearly vomit in disgust.
"Good Jew," he murmurs into my ear. I merely jerk violently, worn out and too paralyzed in fear to get my body to fight back.
"Hurry up, Cartman," one of them hisses. "Someone might hear him."
"Calm down," he replies nonchalantly. "One, no one in this town gives a shit. Two, it's Kahl. Kahl's a Jew. No one wants to help the Jews."
Even that comment won't let me move to punch his flabby face in; the feeling of his fingertips tracing up my stomach and around my boxers' waistband has me completely frozen. I continue to try backing up further against the wall as he reaches down just under my underwear and gulp, my entire body trembling in overwhelming fear and hatred.
"WHAT THE FUCK?" I hear as Cartman's fingers tear away from my skin. I shoot my eyes open and look over to see a dark, cloaked figure standing a few feet from me, a long, skinny object clutched in his right hand. I look down and see Cartman sprawled out on the ground in a flabby heap, totally out for the count by the looks of it. I look back up at the figure across from me.
"Let go of him," he says in a deep, raspy voice. I swear to God, my heart lifts in nothing short of pure glee when I hear this.
"Or what?" one of the masked assholes asks, tightening his grip on my arm and over my mouth.
The cloaked man doesn't say anything. He calmly takes a step forward and raises the object in his hand. He slams it into the side of my holder's head and sends him down onto the ground in a crumpled heap. I stare, trembling with the realization that I'm being saved by a lunatic.
The hooded maniac grabs my arm and wrenches me from the other assailant's grip before grasping me around the waist and hefting me over his shoulder. He turns and starts running off with me and I grab onto his cape, trying to push myself up slightly. I lift my head, watching the vision of the last attacker kneeling down beside Cartman and their buddy in a panicked frenzy. I look over my shoulder, finding nothing more than a hood cloaked in heavy purple fabric.
"H-hey..." I stammer. "Put...put me down..."
"Hang on," he replies simply, grabbing my waist tighter and starting to bound out into the street. I hang limply from over his shoulder, his bone digging into my abdomen and making me groan softly. I watch the lights flashing past me on the sidewalk and try to catch up with my still racing heart. My mind drifts to this guy carrying me and I don't know how to feel about him.
He got me away from Cartman...but why the fuck did he? And why is he pretty much kidnapping me at this point? God, what if he just wanted to rape me himself? These thoughts just make me nauseous, so I opt for hanging my head down and taking some shuddery breaths.
He turns a corner and takes me into another alleyway. If there's more thugs here I swear I'm going to scream. He starts slowly sliding me off his shoulder, ending up loosing his grip and sending me plummeting onto the concrete. I groan as I bring my hand up to my head and he awkwardly clears his throat.
"They uh...make it seem a lot easier in the movies," he says. I look up at him from the ground and blink slowly, squinting in the darkness. All I can make out is a cloak and something twisting protruding from his head. I smack my lips a bit and get to my feet, pulling my jeans up and securing them around my waist again.
"Uh...th-thanks, I guess," I say slowly, brushing some hair away from my eyes.
"No problem," he says.
"Do I uh...know you?" I ask, shaking my head a bit.
"We've met in the past."
I blink a few times before recognizing his tone. "Ohh, you were that...hero...guy," I state stupidly.
"No, I AM that hero guy," he replies dryly.
"Yeah. Mystery Man...or...uh, Minion...or Masturbator..." I scratch my head in thought.
"Mysterion," he snaps.
I recoil back a bit and gulp, "Uh, sorry. It's been awhile," I wince.
"Yeah, I haven't been patrolling as much," he shrugs under his cape.
"Obviously, this town's been going to hell and back constantly," I say.
"There's a shock," he chuckles. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, thanks to you, I guess," I shrug.
He nods a few times, "Good. I don't want you hurt, Kyle."
"Oh. Well um...I'm not," I blink. This guy is weirding me out... "How did you...know I was in trouble?"
"I just know these things," he replies curtly. "I'm a hero. It's my job to know what's going on. You were the only thing moving around and then you stopped."
"How eloquent," I raise my brow.
"Well I'm not exactly Haiku Man, now am I? Or would you rather meet Super Sonnet?"
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," I hold my hands up defensively. "I'm just not quite used to being saved by people in tights."
"Well, maybe you should get used to it," he says gruffly before hopping up and grabbing the fire escape above him. He climbs up to the roof and looks down on me, his cloak swaying gently in the Colorado air. "You seem to get into trouble quite often, Kyle."
"So you'll probably be seeing more of me around," he chuckles roughly. "Catch you later," he salutes before bounding away on the rooftop. I watch for a moment before bringing my head back down and blinking. What the FUCK just happened?
I shake my head and move out of the alleyway, onto the sidewalk. I look back and forth, finding that he took me in the direction of my house and sighing in relief. At least this guy has half a brain and got me away from Cartman and his fucking cronies. I shove my hands into my pockets and start walking back towards what I know will be a frantic mother bitching about dinner going cold.
I think I have a good excuse on my hands though.
I hear a meow and look behind me to see that damn cat perched on the sidewalk, its tale flickering beside it. "You," I growl, turning and heading towards it. I stand in front of it and look down on it. "You got me into a lot of trouble, Cat. I hope you're fucking proud of yourself." It stares back up at me before yawning and standing, rubbing against my legs and purring.
I roll my eyes. Suck up.
I reach down and scoop it up in my arms once more, bringing it over underneath a working street light. I look down and cock my head at it. It's a grey-striped cat with light blue eyes. I grab the metal tag on its collar and stare at it, narrowing my eyes confusedly at the inscription.
Happy Birthday, Kyle
I drop to my knees in shock, clutching onto the cat still. It looks up at me, purring away as I blink confusedly. I look up towards the rooftops, scanning around for any sight of that freak in the tights. The cat meows softly and bats at my face and I bite my lip.
This is South Park. You learn to expect the unexpected.
I think this is pushing the bar.
A/N: Happy Birthday Kyle! I saved you from the raaapppeeee~
DON'T EXPECT IT AGAIN.
SO. This totally started out as just a oneshot, but I think Ima turn this into a full blown story.
What do you think? : D
Kyle working through, trying to find out who Mysterion is and getting into all kinds of situations that land him into rap-troubling compromises?
What do yoouuuuu think? :)
Thanks for R&Ringggg~