THIRTY¬ONE [gunpoint]

309 18 9
                                    

2027

When Stan enters his apartment something is off but he can't name what it is. This time it is not the smell of marihuana. "Kyle? You home?" "Stan! Hi!" The voice comes from the living room but he hears no steps. Is he chilling on the couch? Stan opens his jacket and walks towards the door. Something's wrong. As he presses down the door handle a chill crawls up his spine. His instinct tells him to grab something he could use to defend himself. But he doesn't. Why would he? Stan slowly opens the door and steps into the room. What he sees then makes his heart stop. He lets out a shocked noise. Kyle isn't chilling on the couch. He is sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, his torso and feet are tied to the wood with some sort of rope. His eyes are half shut and he smiles widely at Stan as if he isn't aware of  the man who is standing behind him and pressing a gun against his temple. "What is going on? What are you doing in my apartment? Put the weapon down!" The man, whose eyes are hidden behind black sunglasses, doesn't react. "I missed you, Stan! Do you want pasta for dinner? I'm starving! God, I really want pasta right now. I make really good tomato sauce you know? I could make us some." "Kyle, who-" Stan jumps when cold metal is being pressed against the back of his head. "Good evening, Marsh. I'm glad you finally showed up, we were slowly getting bored. And I don't know if your little dove would have been able to handle another dose." The man who is holding Stan at gunpoint steps next to him, a third man stands in the doorway. "What did you do to him? What's going on?" The man next to Stan lets out a dry laugh. "Just a little family mix to lighten his mood. We are here to get what belongs to us. Your little dove owes us some money. And if he can't pay with cash, he'll have to pay some other way." "I'm not his dove, I'm a fucking swan!" Shit. Think fast, Stan. You have to save both of you. But how? It's three men with weapons against two. "I'm a beautiful bird spreading its wings and flying into the sunset!" Okay, one and a half. "Shut up, cunt." The man behind Kyle smacks the gun against his head before pressing it against his temple again. "He told us that he doesn't have the money. Looks like he'll have to sacrifice something else. How about a finger or two? Or maybe his ear?" God, no. "How much?" Where's Toby? Those fuckers better not have touched his dog. "$4000." That's a lot. Of course Kyle can't pay them. He is probably completely broke after losing his job. And Stan? He doesn't know. He has no idea what his financial situation looks like but he surely doesn't have that much cash lying around. But then, for the first time since forever, the intruder speaks up. The toneless voices is sending shivers down his spine. Basement. Key. Stan takes a deep breath. This is his only chance. He has to trust him. "I will pay for Kyle. I have a safe in my basement." "Oh, you hear that, little dove? Your sugar daddy has got the money. If he doesn't play any dirty tricks, you can keep your fingers." Kyle lifts his head, curls are falling into his face but he just smiles sweetly. "Do you have pasta in your basement? You gotta get some while you're down there, I'd really like some pasta right now!" "I said shut up, cunt!" Metal hits skin. But Kyle doesn't show any sign of pain, he just stares at the ceiling, now giggling to himself. "Okay buddy, my friend and I will come with you while he stays here to take care of your little dove. But I'm warning you. If you try to escape or do anything funky, we won't hesitate using these beauties. Yes, they are loaded." Stan nods. "I just need my key." "Lead the way." Stan takes one last look at Kyle, who is still giggling with heavy lidded eyes. Family mix. Assholes. He slowly takes a step forward and then another one and another one until he has reached the hallway. The gun doesn't leave his head. He grabs the key and then- "Asshole! Boss, that faggot puked on me!" The two men turn around. Stan uses the few seconds of confusion to pull his phone out of his pocket, dial 911, turn the volume down and put it back into the jacket. His heart starts to race. Was that too obvious? The men turn back after some arguing and continue holding Stan at gunpoint. They don't seem like they have noticed. Thank god! Now all he has to do is communicate his situation to the operator. If someone even picked up. They enter the hallway and start walking down the stairs. It's a slow process because Stan's legs are shaking so much. He has to make sure that he doesn't fall over. Stan clears his throat. "You guys are quite brave threatening people with guns in the middle of the day. There are security cameras everywhere on 5th street. And god, my neighbors. Block 14 is definitely one where the walls have ears." "Stop blabbering and walk faster. We don't have the whole day for your bullshit." Stan takes a deep breath. This has to work. If not, him and Kyle are in big trouble. He is positive that there is no safe in his basement. "It's hard to walk faster when my friend is tied up in my apartment with your friend holding a gun against his head while you're leading me into the basement to probably shoot me as soon as you have the money. My name may be Stan Marsh but I'm surely not used to being threatened by drug dealers." That's all he can do. He can't make it any more obvious for whoever is listening on the other end of the line. "God, shut up already! What are you even talking about? We won't shoot you. Just be a good boy and we'll leave you and your bitch alone. For now." They reach the ground floor and take the last few steps. Hopefully the distance between the basement and his apartment is big enough. If not... "How did you even find Kyle? He thought he was save here." The man with the gun against his head chuckles. "A little lady gave us a tip. She was quite upset, called him a cheater. Cute girl but too emotional for my liking." Bebe. Did this happen because they met at the dvd store? It would make sense. She heard Craig mention Kyle's name. And now in 2027 she remembered Stan's face when they met at the bar but didn't let it show. Maybe Kyle had talked with her about him and his confused feelings. And now she thinks that Kyle is cheating on her with Stan. So she got mad and told the guys. What a snake. Stan tries to not show the anger that is dwelling up inside of him. Bebe risked her boyfriend's life to take revenge. If Kyle finds out he'll break up with her. He has to. "Okay my compartment is number 45, like my apartment. Pretty handy system if you are bad at remembering numbers. I sure am. This way." The shared basement is a long hallway with locked rooms to the left and right. Very small ones but big enough to fit in a bicycle and maybe an old closet. And probably a dead body as well. They walk down the hallway until they reach number 45. Stan unlocks the door and pushes it open. Apart from a mattress and a few boxes the compartment is empty. He enters the small room and the two drug dealers follow. "Do you mind if I lock the door behind us? I don't really want anyone who walks past to see me open my safe with two men with weapons next to me. Should be in your interest as well." They seem unsure but then one of them sighs. "Sure. So where is it?" Stan locks the door. Then he can feel it. Thank god, it's working. His stomach pulls together and his skin tingles. "Behind the mattress." The men push the heavy mattress aside but of course the corner is empty. Nothing but spiderwebs and dust. "What the hell? Are you trying to be funny? Show us the safe!" "Uh boss..." "What?" Stan takes a step back. Come on, hurry! "Am I seeing things or are those dude's legs disappearing?" They stare at Stan who scratches his neck and laughs nervously. "Yeah sorry, I think I have to leave. You can continue searching for the money in here, I'll take the key with me." He clenches his fist. It had worked before with Kyle's hair pin. He just has to hold onto it tightly enough and those assholes will be trapped until the police finds them. "You fucker, what are you doing? Is this some sort of witchcraft? Grab him!" The boss looks at his colleague but he doesn't seem convinced. "I...I don't want to touch him." The colours start to fade out and everything around Stan gets darker. "Okay you're fired. I guess I have to do everything myself then." The man raises his gun. "You asked for it." He pushes down the trigger. But it is already too late.

Last Summer - South Park [Style]Where stories live. Discover now