South Park: Decent to Madness

Part 13: Butters's Secret (Stan's POV)

I haven't slept in three days. Every night I try to get some rest, I'm awoken by a horrible nightmare. The dream is always the same. It starts with me in Tweek's coffee shop, sipping some black coffee. The rain outside is pouring, but the raindrops are a dark reddish color. As I finish my coffee, I step outside and go to my house. Along the way, I pass the rotting corpses of all my friends, who look like they've been mutilated one way or another. As I approach home, and step inside, a masked man with a long machete leads me upstairs to my room. And there, is a noose hanging down from the celing, waiting for me.

I always wake up from this dream sobbing. It's odd how the subconscious can just torture you like that. Suddenly, my cell phone rings.

"Hey Stan? It's me, T-Tweek." Tweek says. I rub my eyes a little. "Yello?" I say groggily. "H-Hey man! So, I've been a little worried about you lately. Y-You've barely left your house all week, and you've been sleeping in class. M-Methinks you need to get out of the house a little." Tweek says. "C-C-C'mon, l-let's go out t-t-tonight! Just you, me, and Kyle. We can get wasted, and-" "I'm gonna stop you right there, Tweek. Is this just another excuse to get drunk again?" I said angrily. "No, no! Seriously dude, I'm super worried about you. Y-You know what? I won't even c-c-come. Yeah! It'll j-just be you, Kyle and Kenny. H-H-How would you like t-that?" I growled. "Tweek, no. I'm sick of partying. We did that all summer. You're just trying to prove to me that you aren't some stupid drunk, when in fact, you are!" I was majorly pissed off. The combination of no sleep, stress, and depression just stirred up inside me and boiled. "J-J-Jesus christ, Stan! I was just trying to help, n-no need to be an a-a-asshole!!" Tweek said before hanging up the phone. My hand shook and twitched wildly. I dropped the phone on the floor. What the actual fuck was wrong with me? I just totally told off one of my best friends! Tweek was right. No. I was right. Why should I even bother?

I put on some clothes and grabbed my cigarettes. I headed out to the lake, and climbed to the top of the tallest tree. Sitting on a rickety branch, I pulled out my cheap cigarettes and smoked heartily on it. I looked down at the ground, which seemed to be a good fifteen feet away. I looked up at the sky, and puffed again on my cigarette. Edging slowly and carefully to the end of the branch, I silently thanked everyone who was ever kind to me. "I'm not hoping to die, I just want to feel what it's like." I said to no one in particular. Just as the branch gave way, and I began to fall, and arm reached out and grabbed me tightly. The grass was now a few inches from my face, and I could easily judge how much it would've hurt. I looked up to see a kind face looking back at me.

"It's not your time yet, Stan." Butters told me.

A few minutes later, we were both on the ground, sitting on a log. I offered Butters a cigarette, but he declined. After a long, uncomfortable silence between us, Butters finally spoke up.

"Stan, why do you want to die?" He asked.

"Everything is shitty."

Butters nodded. "Yeah. It really is." Butters said. I was shocked. Was this really Butters I was talking to? "Uh, Butters, are you ok?" I asked. He laughed, and shook his head. "No. I'm not okay, Stan. I'm about to reveal the biggest secret of my whole life, and then, I'll die. I don't wanna die, Stan! I don't wanna leave all my friends and family like this!" He cried. I was bewildered. As if I wasn't going through enough stress..! "Butters, what the hell are you talking about?! You're not going to die! I won't let that happen. I won't let it! Just tell me what's bothering you. I can help, I promise." I said. Butters sighed. "Fine. I will tell you. But you gotta promise not to tell anyone. Okay, Stan?" He said. "Okay." I replied. He took a deep breath in, and then out. "It all started a few months ago, over the summer."

"As you all know, I know now that I'm gay, and I was planning on how to come out to my parents. I had planned to ask Eric out when school began, and my dad seemed to be in a pretty nice mood. So I thought, what could possibly go wrong?" Butters sighed heavily. "It all went wrong. My mom still loved me for it, but my dad, well he did more than ground me, yessiree. I'm not allowed in the house when my dad's home anymore."

"Desperate for a living place, I turned to my one true love, my old friend Eric. I explained the situation to him, and he just, kind of broke down I guess. He said I could stay, and he led me to his room. That was before he knocked me out."

"When I came to, I was strapped to a wooden examination table, my chest open to reveal my organs and ribcage. He looked at me, hungrily, and said he was going to eat me alive. He was gonna eat me alive, Stan." Tears were streaming out of Butters's face. "I begged him to spare my life, and told him about my secret feelings for him. I don't know why he spared me, but he did under one condition: I would have to be his slave for the rest of my life. If I ever told this story, he promised me that I'd be dead in 24 hours." Butters stopped. He took a deep breath in, and began sobbing hysterically. "He made me attack Kenny. He made me a monster. I can't go on like this, Stan. So, I'm not going to let him have the pleasure of killing me. I need you, Stan." He pulled me into a tight embrace. Oh my god...oh my god...bile began rising in my throat. "I'm gonna throw up." I said. Butters smiled. "I would, too, If I still had a stomach to do it with. But he ate that, too." Butters said. I swallowed hard. I hugged Butters back. "No..I just...no. Butters, we aren't going to let this happen. We can stop this. Cartman doesn't know that you talked to me, and he doesn't need to know!" I said angrily. Butters shook his head sadly. "I'm bugged, Stan. Eric already heard everything. All you can do now is fufill my dying wishes. Let's go to Dying Man's Wharf." Butters said. I thought it over for a minute. I didn't believe this was happening. I couldn't. I could stop Cartman! I could run to the police right now and-

I stopped when I saw Butters's face, thin, pale and grey. He was dying. He wanted this, didn't he? To fufill his dying wishes..it was the least I could do, right? "Okay then." I said. Butters smiled an extremely weak smile, and we set off.

Dying Man's Wharf was just a tall cliff on the edge of the lake. The place was infamous for the sheer amount of spiked rocks at its base, for which a bunch of suicides had taken place a few hundred years ago. Now, nobody is allowed there without permission. But nobody enforces that law, so people always go there anyway. Butters stood on the edge of the cliff, looking down at the sharp rocks below. The soft breeze and distant calling of birds almost made this moment peaceful. If only we were here on better conditions. "Such a pretty place." Butters said. I just nodded. "Butters. Is there anything we can do to stop this? Anything at all?" I said. Butters was silent for a few minutes. "I suppose there is. You could kill Eric. But I don't want you to do that. I still..love him." I was floored. "What?" I said. Butters pulled out a knife, and placed on the ground next to him. "If you must. I mean, it's my life or his, right?" Butters said sadly. I started sweating. I could end this all right now. Butters could go home happily, and we could start over.

All I'd have to do is kill Cartman.

Kill Cartman.

Kill him.

My heart started pounding. My eyes were shaking. 

I threw up in my mouth.

"I-I can't, Butters. I can't." I dropped to my knees.

Butters simply smiled. "Thank you, Stan. Thank you. You'll always be my best friend. And..I'm sorry." Butters said.

"Butters, no! Don't say-"

"He's coming for you, too."

Butters leaped off the cliff.

I raced after him, and almost grabbed his hand.

But I was far too late.

I saw him, falling. It almost seemed to happen in slow motion. Tears flew from his eyes. His arms were outstretched, as if welcoming death. His mouth was stretched into a wide, painful smile.

And he hit the rocks.

Blood splattered onto every crack and crevice of the rocks. They stuck out of his body. His organs-or what was left of them-were sprayed all over the place. Both his eyes had popped out, and his teeth had been forcefully dislodged from him mouth.

I didn't even have time to scream, because as I did, something was sprayed into my nostrils. As I fell over backwards, a familiar voice told me, "Nighty night, Stan."

I awoke in my bed, awkwardly. I had a horrible migraine. I couldn't remember a single thing. "Have I slept through two days? Man, I must've been tired." I concluded. I got up, got breakfast, and began school, not even thinking about what could've been.

(Art is by BootyIsEverywhere! :3 on the Futurama Amino)