Chapter 1: Welcome to the Battle Royale
"Dammit!" A black-haired boy named Stan pointed the handgun ahead of him and fired multiple times. "Kenny, give me some fucking backup!"
The blonde in the sweatpants sighed and stood up off of the blue couch in Stan's living room to grab the matching plastic PlayStation Move handgun. He pointed the gun at the TV screen and fired twice, killing the zombie on the screen with ease. "You suck at House of the Dead," he laughed.
Stan ground his teeth and sent a glare at Kenny. "I don't suck; it's just really hard without a second player."
"Right…!" Kenny rolled his eyes to the ceiling. He ran one teasing finger along Stan's bare torso from his collarbone to the top of his blue jeans. "How about this? If you can kill the next wave of zombies by yourself, you can top later."
Stan's eyebrows rose. "Really?" Kenny never gave him that chance, not in the four years they'd been fuck-buddies.
"Really." The blonde licked Stan's cheek playfully.
Stan smirked and turned back to the TV screen, ready for the next wave of virtual zombies. Just as the doors of the mansion opened up for the zombies to come pouring out and he began shooting mercilessly at them, a redheaded boy in an orange jacket and blue jeans, Kyle slammed the front door open. Stan hit the pause button on the side of the plastic gun and looked over at his best friend when Kenny did. The redhead's shoulders were heaving as if he'd run all the way across town. Both shirtless boys in the living room couldn't help but wonder what had been so important that their friend ran over to tell them.
"Guys," Kyle took a breath, "we need to get out of here! Now!"
"Why?" Stan dropped the plastic gun on the couch behind him and walked over to his best friend, noticing the cold winter air as soon as he did. "Dude, shut the door!"
Kyle slammed the door shut behind him. "Both of you get dressed, we have to leave! If we don't go now, the others who are evacuating will leave us behind!"
"Evacuating?" Stan raised one eyebrow. "Why are we being evacuated?"
"Haven't you guys watched TV at all today?"
"No." Kenny pointed at the TV screen. "We woke up and started playing video games. We're going over to Stan's parents' later though, so we'll watch–"
"No you won't be because they're dead!" Kyle yelled. When his friends gave him a doubtful look, he scooped up the TV remote from the floor and turned the TV to the news channel. "Look!"
"…too late. …If you're just now joining us, you are among the unfortunate. Three hours ago, one of our spies from Washington returned with the news that the town Eric Cartman has chosen to be the first in his horrific BR Act is South Park."
Kenny and Stan's eyes widened. Cartman had announced a week ago about the new Battle Royale Act, which would require that one town a year would be fenced off for a week and the residents would be forced to kill each other until only one was left. He also said that he would announce the town participating in the first Battle Royale the morning after they began, giving no one the chance to leave the town before the Battle Royale could begin.
"The South Park council gathered in the town hall not long ago to discuss their options, but government militants discovered that the town had a spy and killed everyone in the council…I have just received word that evacuation processes have been stopped, leaving over half of the town's population trapped within town limits. In less than half an hour, government helicopters will be flying in to fence off the town and cut all electricity. If you think you can still get out, try, but–"
Kyle clicked the TV off. "Shit. Come on," he looked over at where his friends - Stan in a white t-shirt, and Kenny in a white tank top - were searching frantically through the coat closet, "we have to try and get out."
Stan nodded and slipped into his brown jacket. "No arguments here."
"Or from me." Kenny shrugged his two sizes too big parka on and pulled the hood up.
Kyle nodded and followed his friends back outside, both seeming shocked at the sight of the black Hummer in the driveway. "Stole it from the town hall after I heard what happened there. Figured we might need it." He jumped into the driver's side.
"Why were you panting when you came into the house then?" Stan asked as he climbed into the passenger's seat and Kenny climbed into the back.
"Having the government on your ass can be fucking nerve-wracking!"
"I definitely agree with that!" Kenny laughed.
Kyle pressed the gas pedal to the floor and began racing towards the south end of town. "We don't have anything yet, but we can stop in the next town for food and gas, or whatever else we need. Fuck!" He hit the brake hard, sending it nearly to the floorboard and bringing the Hummer to a screeching halt. He glared through the windshield at the blonde boy in the light blue pea-coat and tight blue jeans shaking in the middle of the road. "Godammit Butters!" He hit the window button and stuck his head out of the window. "Move your ass!"
"K-Kyle!" Butters ran over to the rolled down window. "Are you guys tryin' to get outta here?"
"C-Can I tag along?"
Kyle nodded and unlocked the door. "Hurry and get in, we need to make another stop before we can leave."
"Where?" Stan asked as Butters climbed into the backseat with Kenny, and Kyle hit the gas.
"Ike is over at George's house for a study session." He made a quick, sharp turn down another street and softly tapped on the brake to stop in front of a small house. He held down the horn until Ike and a Goth teenager ran out.
Both teens climbed into the back door Kenny was sitting next to and then jumped over the seat into the open trunk. As soon as the door slammed shut, Kyle did a quick U-turn and sped off in the direction he was heading.
"Kyle," Ike said as he gripped onto the bench seat in front of him for dear life, "where are we going?"
"No idea yet. We just need to get out of South Park first, that's all that matters. We can figure out where to go afterwards." Kyle's eyebrow knit together angrily. What time was it? The helicopters had to be getting close. Dammit, why wouldn't the goddamn Hummer go over one-hundred?
Straight ahead of them, a group of soldiers lined a barbed wire, electric fence with M-80s in their hands and a line of corpses in front of them. They held up the guns as the Hummer approached.
"Kyle, stop!" Stan yelled as he gripped onto the door, his eyes wide with fear.
"No! I'll plow right through it!" Kyle ground his teeth together and tried to push the Hummer faster. "I refuse to be part of this bullshit Cartman's forcing upon us!"
"Dude, they have guns!"
"Stop the fucking car!" Kenny screamed. He couldn't have cared less if he died, he'd just wake up the next morning, but he didn't want to watch and remember his friends getting shot to death. "We're all gonna die if you don't! Think of your brother back here!"
That must've gotten through to Kyle because he cursed and slammed on the brakes. The Hummer stopped only inches away from the line of corpses in front of the militants holding the M-80s. He cut the engine and jumped out of the Hummer with the others when the militants lowered their guns.
"Oh hamburgers," Butters muttered as he stepped out of the Hummer ready to run at any moment.
"Hey," one of the militants yelled, "get to the community center! All of you! Now!"
Kyle grabbed onto his little brother's hand and sent a glare at the militants before turning away with an angry sigh. From where he was standing with his little brother and friends, he could clearly see the community center only a few blocks away from them. He cursed loudly and began leading the small group towards the yellow-orange building. I was too late. We're trapped here now.
"Fuck!" He screamed out of nowhere. Everyone around him jumped at the sound, causing the group to stop.
Stan reached out for his best friend. "Kyle, what is it?"
"We're stuck going along with this sick fucking game Cartman is forcing upon us because he wants us to die!" Kyle turned and faced all of his friends. "I wasn't quick enough and now we're trapped!"
Ike pulled on his older brother's hand and smiled slightly. "We may be stuck here but at least we can protect each other. It's not like we're alone."
Kyle blinked and then looked from Ike back to his friends. He nodded. His brother was right, they might be trapped but they weren't alone. The group could protect each other and they would. They wouldn't die here, they couldn't.
The community center wasn't as full as it would've been had people not evacuated when they did. Most of the people left and in the community center were those unfortunate enough to not make it out in time, a few were those who had been more than willing to stay and play along with The Battle Royale Act.
Among those unfortunate enough not to escape were Craig Tucker, Tweek Tweak, Token Black, Clyde Donovan, Bebe Stevens, Jimmy, and Timmy. They were all gathered in a shaking group near the back of the community center near a large wooden stage set up for some unknown reason.
Craig was holding onto Tweek trying to comfort him by telling him pretty lies of how everything was going to be okay and how they would get out together. Clyde and Bebe were both crying and being silently held by their friend Token. Jimmy and Timmy were nervously trying to get everyone in the group to stay calm by telling some bad jokes though they could clearly tell it wasn't working.
Among the select group of people who had wanted to stay behind were Wendy Testaburger and Rebecca Cotswalds. Both had been curious about the outcome of such a game and decided it would be best to just go along with it instead of trying to run away or be afraid.
Wendy was standing near Rebecca with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at the people cowering in fear over what was about to occur. Why even bother to worry so much about your inevitable fate? All that was going to happen over the course of the week was assisting death. Was that really so bad?
"They're all pathetic," the brunette standing beside Wendy, Rebecca said in her usual shaking voice. There was something different about that voice today though, something almost animalistic. Whatever it was made Wendy feel a quick round of nerves when the girl spoke. "Cowering and crying about something so…so interesting. It should be fun to experience the emotions and psyche of a killer." She glanced at Wendy. "Would you agree?"
Wendy shrugged. "I'm not sure I would put it so lightly, but I don't believe there's anything to be afraid of."
Both girls looked over at the front of the community center when the metal doors were opened by the two militants outside to allow another group of people entrance. Kyle Broflovski led the group in and most of them looked like most of the people around the community center: scared. Most of the group though looked as confident as always, as if they weren't afraid of what was to come. The girls smirked at the same time at this observation. Well, well, some good competition.
At the back of the group, Butters jumped slightly when the metal doors slammed shut behind him. He just kept walking though, not wanting to seem like a pussy during something that will eventually cost him his life. There was one thing he did notice about everyone around him as he continued walking with his friends towards the stage; everyone was either crying or had a murderous look in their eyes as if already weeding out the weakest. He knew he had no chance against those people.
Before the group could get much further, a line of militants in green fatigues ran out onto the stage holding M-80s. All sound ceased in that second, even crying and fearful ranting. Everyone, even those willing to stay behind, had a bad feeling about what was to come.
That feeling was intensified when a decorated and scarred General walked out onto the stage with a microphone in hand. "Hello South Park, Colorado, you know why you're here thanks to that spy your town sent to Washington. Which cuts a lot of my explanation, so I supposed it is a good thing he was sent. Basically, you have been chosen by the President for a test-run of the Battle Royale Act. Before I get to the boring part - the rules - there is a quick list we must go over."
He pulled a small remote out of his pocket and clicked a button down. On the blank wall behind him, a projection of the town's citizen list, including pictures and names, appeared. "The list of the already dead." The shadow of a smirk appeared on his face when he noticed every single person had a look of horror on their faces.
"Bradley Biggle," an X appeared over his picture, "Henrietta Biggle," an X appeared over her picture, "Gerald Broflovski," a red X appeared over his picture, "Sheila Broflovski," an X appeared over her picture, (at hearing their parents' names called, Kyle and Ike both drew in sharp breaths and stiffened), "Mark Cotswalds," an X appeared over his picture then, (Rebecca barely reacted to her brother or her parents' names being called).
More and more names were called, and with each a different reaction from a different person. The list of the dead included the parents of nearly everyone in community center, people who were part of the council, along with people who had been evacuated secretly: Ruby Tucker, (Craig nearly had a meltdown when he heard his sister's name), Rebecca Red, Bridon Guermo, the rest of the Goth group, (Dylan and Evan), and literally everyone else that had tried to get out. At the end of it, there was only half of the town left, none over the age of twenty-four.
"Now," the General continued, "I'm sure you're all wondering why people who were evacuated are on this list. Well that has to do with the micro-chips in your bloodstream." He fully smiled when confusion appeared. "Under the President's orders, we placed micro-chips in South Park's drinking water a month ago when the Act was first past and your town was secretly chosen. Since then, the micro-chips have registered who you are in our databases. They also have wireless tracking capabilities, telling us if you've breached the perimeter."
He pointed back at the list dominated with the dead. "Everyone you tried to evacuate was killed by us! Destroyed from the inside, out! There is no escape. Now South Park, welcome to the Battle Royale!"