Craig of the Dead

19. Butters' Very Own Chapter

"Well crap." Craig muttered, kicking at some dirt as we marched. They had finally separated him and Tweek, and ever since Tweek had been making these whimpering noises, like a kicked puppy. I have to admit, it was tempting. I wanted to whimper too. Honestly, I don't know what was holding me back. Although it had only lasted for a moment, I could still feel the pressure of my own pistol being shoved underneath my chin. I knew Eric was evil, but, well, I never thought he would do that to his own friend.

"Get your greasy hands off me, I can walk myself!" Token protested. We continued walking until we reached the playground, where it became clear what Tweek was so worried about.

There were ten wooden poles driven deep into the ground, all lined up in a row. Starting with Karen, they began to tie us by our hands to the poles. Soon, we were all shivering with our hands above our heads, barely able to move. If a zombie happened to make it to the schoolyard, they could eat us alive and we would be completely defenseless. Even worse, the rest of us would have to watch, unable to help.

"Oh Jesus, we're going to die!" Tweek cried, struggling to break free of his bonds but failing miserably. Tweek had become slightly calmer after being consoled by Craig, but now his breathing had become rapid again and his eyes held a frantic and desperate light. "Craig, don't let me die! Please! I just found you and—"

"We're not going to die. Things just aren't looking too great right now..." Craig sighed, look around as much as he could. I couldn't see his face very well, but the worry in his voice was prominent, a tone that I hadn't heard Craig use since he scooped the unconscious Clyde off the ground. Craig had looked so angry and so worried at the same time, and whenever someone would say anything for the first ten minutes he would just yell SHUT THE FUCK UP I'M TRYING TO THINK.

"Hey!" A voice called out. "Hey sixth graders!"

"We haven't been in sixth grade for two years!" One of the older ones yelled back.

"I don't give a fuck. Listen, I wanna be moved closer to the new guys. Craig and Tweek, right? Yeah, I wanna be closer to them." I strained my neck to try and see who was talking, but I was all the way on the end and whoever was talking was all the way on the other end. They had a higher pitched voice, so it might be one of the younger kids. Still, they weren't acting scared or anything, which was odd, because I was in sixth grade and I wanted to pee my pants. Actually, I think I already had. My pants were all wet and sticky and then smelled, but I kinda just hoped that no one else had noticed.

"And why should we do that?"

"Because if you don't, I will call upon my father and he will turn your bones into dust." Oh, then it's gotta be Damien.

"I thought that he couldn't do any of that..." I began, but a stern look from Craig shut me up. Oh yeah, Damien was probably going somewhere with this, but it could also be a bad somewhere, too. I'll bet Craig hadn't thought of that. What if Damien just wanted to make a run for it and leave us behind it suffer the consequences? It wasn't beneath him, he was the son of Satan.

"Yeah, the faggot's right." I felt my cheeks get hot. Why did everyone have to call me that? It's bad enough being called Butters or Leopold, but apparently that wasn't enough for some people. Why couldn't the fellas just call me Leo or something, I dunno, but not faggot. I'm still not entirely sure what it means, but since Eric usually calls me that and then laughs, it's probably not something good.

"Uh huh, I thought you cou—"One of the sixth graders began, but he was cut short.

"How much you wanna bet?" Damien laughed. I can't lie, I couldn't even see the kid very well and it was still pretty unnerving.