Mysterion is Born.

   This fanfic is based off the television show "South Park". I got the idea when I saw the episode "The Poor Kid". South Park is the property of Trey Parker and Matt Stone. Who rule. I mean really rule. They rock. Read and Review if you like. If you don't, you'll be haunted by The Death God Cthulhu. Oh, and I'll make you eat your parents.






  Nine year old Kenny McCormick lay in his bed, listening to his parents fighting once again. This happened at least once a week; he got used to it after a while, just like his older brother, Kevin, did. 'You get used to it.' Kenny thought. He was dressed only in his underwear, leaving his orange parka in his closet.
  Kenny turned around, trying to get into a comfortable position. He could always sleep easier when his parents for some reason. He didn't know why; maybe it was because it gave him a reason to run away into his dreams, to fall asleep and leave his alcoholic parents behind, even if it was for eight short hours. But he couldn't tonight.
  Kenny always wanted to run away from his home, go to another home, live in the forest, anywhere, as long as he wasn't with his parents. But he couldn't even if he wanted to. Not for long anyway; Kenny could run away, but he would just be back in his bed before the week was over. Kenny was an Immortal; whenever he died, he would wake up in his bed, wearing his same old clothes. He didn't know how he did it, why it happened to him, but he stopped asking.
  Even if he could leave, he wouldn't, for one reason and one reason only; Karen. His little sister. He couldn't just leave her to fend for herself in this family; she was too small and fragile to survive in this family by herself. Kenny would try and cheer her up, but nothing he did worked.
  He bought her doll a few months back with the money he made when he was doing crazy things; his parents had claimed the rest of the money not long after, which quickly disappeared. He told her that if she was sad, to hold the doll and talk to it. But it didn't help much; he could still hear her crying from behind the thin walls, all because of his parents. This is why he can't sleep tonight; his little sister is crying.
  Kenny got up from bed. He couldn't think of anything to help his sister. He leaned against the wall, trying to listen to Karen. He could hear her talking to her doll. He couldn't make out what she was saying. He closed his eyes and concentrated on her voice. He could hear her voice. "Please God, send me a Guardian Angel. Please God, send me a Guardian. Please God, send me a Guardian Angel."
  Kenny slowly opened his eyes. He wished God for that, too, when he was her age. But no one came. Kenny stood up, wishing he could do something for his little sister; she was only five years old, she shouldn't be wishing for this.
  Kenny got on his knees and started to pray. "Please God," he whispered. "Send my little sister a guardian angel. She needs it. Please." He began to cry at the last word. He needed to protect, but how? Kenny heard a squeek from his closet. A mouse. He got up and went to stop it from biting holes into his clothes again.
  Kenny opened the closet and saw a lone mouse standing on his dresser. He expected it to be hiding. He was about to hit it, when he noticed it looked down to it's right. He felt as if he should follow it's gaze, and so he looked as well. He saw a garbage bag that hadn't been there before. He picked it up and brought it to his bed. A small note was clipped on it. He read it aloud, "For Kenny."
  Kenny opened  the bag and poured the contents out onto his bed. A dark purple cloak, a pair of grey sweats, dark grey gloves, and a pair of brown boots. Kenny looked at the clothes, trying to figure out who sent them, and why. He recalled his begging God for Karen. He felt as if this was God's doing. But how could this help Karen? Kenny picked up the clothes and knew what he was meant to do with them. He put the clothes on and jumped out the window.
  Kenny walked to Karen's window and opened it quietly. He climbed onto windowsill, getting down on one knee. He looked at Karen as she cried quietly into her pillow. He steeled himself. "Don't cry Karen." Kenny spoke with a raspy voice to avoid her identifying him.
  Karen bolted up when she heard him speak. She looked at him with fear, not knowing where he came from or why he was there. "W-W-Where did you c-come from?" She couldn't help but stutter.
  Kenny didn't know how to answer her. He said what she was wishing for, and what he truly believed. "I was sent here for you, Karen." Kenny paused. "Your wish came true."
  Karen looked at Kenny with an awed expression. "It did?" Karen asked. "You're a Guardian Angel?"
  Kenny looked her in the eyes. "No, Karen. I'm your Guardian Angel. I will protect you no matter what. No matter where you are, no matter what you do, I will always protect you. I will always be there."
  "Really?" Karen eyes were wide and she had a large smile on her face.
  "Yes, Karen." Kenny noticed that their parents had stopped fighting. "Now I want you to get some sleep. You have school tomorrow." With that, Kenny jumped back outside, closing the window as he did so. He ran as fast as he could to his window and jumped in. He heard Karen open her window, trying to find him, but she was too late.
  Kenny got undressed, putting his new outfit in his dresser drawer inside his closet, and went back to bed. He found that he fell asleep very easily, with the knowledge that he helped his sister, and could help her from now on. Kenny tried to think of a good name for his alter ego, but couldn't come up with one.


  Kenny woke up to his sister jumping on his bed. She told him all about her Guardian Angel appearing out of nowhere and telling her not to cry, and about how cool and mysterious he was.
  While Karen played in her room, telling her doll everything about her Guardian Angel, saying how perfect he was, Kenny worked on his costume. He wanted to put his own touch to it. Why should he stop with just protecting Karen; he could protect the whole town. He never liked standing by and watching as people got away with the horrible things that they did. He could do something about it and not fear for his life or that of his families.
  He took a spring from an old bb gun and glued a green question mark to it. He then attached the spring to the hood of his cloak. He cut out a green 'M' from an old shirt he got from the salvation army, and sewed it to his sweatshirt. He had finally come up with a name, too. Ironically, he got the name from Karen.
  Mysterion.