The Warehouse (South Park)

Chapter 1

The graveyard hadn't been used in what seemed to be decades; gravestones wore moss as if it was a fashion statement, flowers left at graves  were practically dust and what was once a nicely cobbled path was now a mess of cracked stone and jagged corners. If you weren't careful where you walked, you'd easily trip and fall, smashing the bones in your nose with a sickening crack as it connected with the wet concrete.

Looking past the graveyard revealed a fence. It encased a hill, one which wasn't too steep but had a fine height to it. The fence was topped with barbed wire and towered above any one passing by, making the building kept behind hidden to anyone who didn't already know of its existence. Vines and ivy encircled an intricate design of a rusted, metal gate. It lacked a lock, but the greenery seemed to prove as sustainable for keeping people out.

However, it wouldn't keep out the teens wishing for a thrill on this very night.

Huddled together in a circle made up of four, the boys began to get impatient. It was a chilly, Halloween night and the flimsy costumes worn by the teens did not prove sustainable against the harsh bite of wind. It wasn't too dark, as a full moon poured a sharp light in the surrounding area and shimmering stars winked at the people below.

Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Eric Cartman and Kenny McCormick had agreed to meet up with three other boys on this very night, and now they waited for the arrival of their other friends. However, said friends were around ten minutes late. Quickly becoming sick of their tardiness, Kyle sighed.

He held the shortest temper in the group, so it wasn't surprising to the other when he began to complain. With a voice holding a horrendously hilarious lisp (due to the cheap, plastic vampire fangs which matched his costume (which he knew he looked dashing in, so he would live with the speech impediment.)), Kyle spoke to his friends.

"They're taking the piss." He groaned, salvia dripping from the fangs unattractively. He swiftly ran his tongue over the points, offering a cringing Stan a sheepish smile.

Kyle was (obviously) dressed as a vampire. However, he was not one which could be associated with Edward fucking Cullen!

A silk cloak lay on his broad shoulders, brushing just past his ankles. The collar was pointed up, dusting his heavily freckled cheeks. Beneath the cloak, he wore a simple, black waist coat and dress shirt, collar stained with fake blood. Dress shoes and trousers paired with heavily made up eyes finished the look, also complimenting the emerald green and making them shimmer.

Beside him, Stan placed a hand over Kyle's which was positioned on his hip. While Kyle was a vampire, Stan had decided to go as a werewolf. It was a (sort of?) couples costume, one which Stan had suggested which didn't make Kyle want to vomit.

To make up a werewolf costume, Stan had shredded a white shirt and destroyed a pair of jeans. He wore both now, skin glowing through the rips. He'd stop shaving just for the costume, and now his limbs held traces of fine, black hair. Hair had been expectedly styled to look a complete mess, and it hung past his now pointed ears in tangles. Like Kyle, he wore fangs. However, he could control his salvia glands and didn't hold the same lisp.

He was shivering slightly, leaning into the warmth of his boyfriend happily.

"Just give them time?" Stan suggested timidly, extremely aware that they had been given ten minutes and counting. Kyle was clearly about to comment on this, yet Cartman had beat him to it.