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Description
I look upon my beloved town from the rooftop as an icy breeze caresses my skin. My mind has been replaying the past few years on a constant loop, attempting to piece together any clues I could find as to who I really am.

My name is Mysterion, protector and symbol of this town. My friends also know me as Kenny McCormick, a sixteen year old student from South Park High, who would rather day dream about girls than study. I have been a long term member of The Coon and Friends, although we should probably change the name as The Coon has finally embraced his darker side, becoming a super villain and taking on Proffessor Chaos as a sidekick. Along with the other team members -minus Mint Berry Crunch, who decided to go solo- I have saved the world countless times and still managed to get back home before my friend's curfews. Also, I am immortal, and no matter how many times I die...

...I will always return.

It doesn't really matter to me that everyone is so obsessed with Mint Berry Crunch and his 'actual super powers', to me he'll always be just another kid playing dress up. He'll never know what it's like to truly be cursed, and he'll never know the dark, painfull world I call my home. I die, day in, day out. Each death is more excruciatingly agonizing than the last.

The pain is not even the worst part. I would gladly accept all the pain in the world if someone would just fucking remember. Would anyone really care if my inexplicable 'gift' was to suddenly expire? Would anyone even notice that I had yet to return? Would I be missed by anyone at all?

There are so many questions, so many answers that are only just out of reach. However, I cannot dwell on my own, selfish problems right now. This town needs my help, there are innocents to protec-

Who the hell is that?

I stride across the rooftop towards the person in question. They're surrounded by darkness - black hoodie, black jeans, a black mask covering his or her face and even black contact lenses- it removes any trace of an identity. This person is completely unknown to me and I've never found myself so drawn to someone. "Goodevening, Mysterion," he says calmly, the deep, gravelly tone of his voice allerting me to the fact that he is a male and sending a chill down my spine simeltaneously.

I gather my composure, realising that I cannot afford to let my guard down, he could be a threat after all. "Friend or foe?" I ask, my eyes scanning him in a calculating motion.

"I don't pick sides," he answers with a meaningfull frown. "There are to many things to fix in this world for me to be getting involved in you're childish squabbles between light and dark."

I narrow my eyes at him, letting my piercing blue orbs work their magic. "You got a name?" I inquire.

"I am Midnight Phantom," he states with a smirk, which causes my stomach to do flips. Focus Mysterion, don't let him get to you. "I work anonymously to prevent destruction and bring peace to this town. You will never see me in this form again. I'm only here tonight because I have knowledge to impart."

"What kind of knowledge?" I question, feeling a little uneasy.

He doesn't answer for a while, his knowing grin only growing in intensity. I counted the seconds, holding my breath for any form of a reply. I'm certainly not prepare for what happens next. He turns to face me, his onyx eyes locking with my ocean ones, almost trapping me in his gaze as he whispers "You are not alone, Kenny." A jolt of electricity shoots through my body as he adds "I know why no one remembers."

I don't even need to ask, I know he's talking about my deaths. I grab the front of his hoodie tightly, afraid that I will miss my chance at finally finding out who I am, even if he only has a small amount of information. I at least deserve to know why nobody seems to recall me dying, until now. "Why?" I ask eagerly. "Why does no one remember?!"

"Remember the time you and your friends started working in the tooth business? When you were kids?" he questions.

"Does it have something to do with that?" I inquire hopefully.

"No," he replies. "You will have to pay attetion, be patient and let -the fuck- go of me if you want answers. There is much I have to tell you and this whole thing is a heck of a lot bigger than just you."

I sigh defeatedly, loosening my grip on his hoodie. "Ok," I nod. "I'm listening."

"Kyle Broflovski started to question his existance, and while you were... uh... otherwise occupied-"

"Attempting not to drown in a lake," I interrupted. "Other people may not remember how I died, but I do."

"Ok. Anyway, this eventually led to him vanishing, or so the others thought. In reality, he jumped, between dimensions." I quirk an eyebrow at him and he flashes me that knowing smirk again. "Kyle Broflovski, is a teleporter."

"No fucking way," I argue in disbelief.

Midnight Phantom only nods "He also has incredibly strong telekinetic abilities. However -like your deaths- he has no recollection of his powers whatsoever. He is probably the strongest and therefore most vulnerable super human in South Park, if The Coon was to find out before him he would be dead in two seconds flat."

"But how-" I started, only to be cut off.

"He's not the only one either," he stated. "Stan Marsh can hear animals thoughts and has geokinesis, Eric Cartman can create a bolt of electricity so strong it would have killed Cthulu instantly had he been on your side, Tweek Tweak can run faster than the speed of light, Craig Tucker can still shoot lasers out of his eyes -along with other uses-, Wendy Testaburger has super strength, Butters Stotch can manifest any object or illusion he wants, Token Black can shape shift, the goth kids have pyrokinesis... the list goes on and on."

"So, wait a minute. Nobody knows about this?" I ask. "Not even the people who actually have these powers?"

"No one except us," he states. "Our powers allow us to avoid someone else's power."

"Who?" I question, desperate to know who's causing this.

"Clyde Donovan," Midnight Phantom answers confidently.

"Clyde?" I inquire. "What the hell does Clyde have to do with this?"

"Clyde's power is the reason why everyone forgets, even him," he explains. "He can do things with his mind, alter memories and place ideas in peoples thoughts that weren't supposed to be there. If he was smart he could control people through thoughts, but I think we both know that's not likely to happen."

"So Clyde has been erasing everyone's memory of my deaths?" I ask through clenched teeth, starting to feel more than a little annoyed. "But he wasn't even there for some of them!"

"It's out of his control," Midnight Pantom replies. "It's like an automatic defense mechanism, his mind automatically erases anything bad that happens or anything that could turn into a serious situation so he won't have to deal with it in the present, or sometimes the future."

"What are you saying?" I question. "Are you saying I have to kill Clyde? Because that doesn't sound like something a super hero would do."

"He doesn't have to be dead for the effect to wear off," he responds, shaking his head. "Just unconscious."

"So all I have to do is kill myself in front of the others while Clyde is unconscious and they'll remember," I muse. "Thanks for the advice," I state, turning to leave.

Only I find myself being pulled back as a hand wraps around my arm, before I come face to face with those, black, cavernous orbs again. "No," he says. "Think, do you really want this information getting out? All hell would break loose! You cannot, I repeat canNOT tell anyone about this! Don't you get it? You die to protect them from the same fate. Have any of your friends -aside from that one mishap with that Pirrup kid- ever died while you've been around?"

I searched my brain for any traces of evidence that could bring me to say yes, but there aren't any. "No," I reply. "I always get killed before anything has a chance to take their lives."

"Exactly," he answers. "You die, so your friends don't have to. If they stay alive, they live forever, if they die, they die forever. You need to be here, and not being experimented on in a lab somewhere, to ensure that the protectors of South Park have eternal life."

"Ok," I sigh. "I won't tell anyone and I won't knock Clyde out so I can show everyone either."

"Good," he answers with a satisfied smile. "I must go now, I have survivors to rescue from the scene of a car crash."

I quirk an eyebrow at him once more "What are you-" but I am cut off when the screeching of tires and colliding of metal fills the cold, night air. I gaze at the smoke in the distance with wide eyes. "How did you know?" I ask only to be confused even further when I see that he has already gone.

Who the fuck was that?

Description
I look upon my beloved town from the rooftop as an icy breeze caresses my skin. My mind has been replaying the past few years on a constant loop, attempting to piece together any clues I could find as to who I really am.

My name is Mysterion, protector and symbol of this town. My friends also know me as Kenny McCormick, a sixteen year old student from South Park High, who would rather day dream about girls than study. I have been a long term member of The Coon and Friends, although we should probably change the name as The Coon has finally embraced his darker side, becoming a super villain and taking on Proffessor Chaos as a sidekick. Along with the other team members -minus Mint Berry Crunch, who decided to go solo- I have saved the world countless times and still managed to get back home before my friend's curfews. Also, I am immortal, and no matter how many times I die...

...I will always return.

It doesn't really matter to me that everyone is so obsessed with Mint Berry Crunch and his 'actual super powers', to me he'll always be just another kid playing dress up. He'll never know what it's like to truly be cursed, and he'll never know the dark, painfull world I call my home. I die, day in, day out. Each death is more excruciatingly agonizing than the last.

The pain is not even the worst part. I would gladly accept all the pain in the world if someone would just fucking remember. Would anyone really care if my inexplicable 'gift' was to suddenly expire? Would anyone even notice that I had yet to return? Would I be missed by anyone at all?

There are so many questions, so many answers that are only just out of reach. However, I cannot dwell on my own, selfish problems right now. This town needs my help, there are innocents to protec-

Who the hell is that?

I stride across the rooftop towards the person in question. They're surrounded by darkness - black hoodie, black jeans, a black mask covering his or her face and even black contact lenses- it removes any trace of an identity. This person is completely unknown to me and I've never found myself so drawn to someone. "Goodevening, Mysterion," he says calmly, the deep, gravelly tone of his voice allerting me to the fact that he is a male and sending a chill down my spine simeltaneously.

I gather my composure, realising that I cannot afford to let my guard down, he could be a threat after all. "Friend or foe?" I ask, my eyes scanning him in a calculating motion.

"I don't pick sides," he answers with a meaningfull frown. "There are to many things to fix in this world for me to be getting involved in you're childish squabbles between light and dark."

I narrow my eyes at him, letting my piercing blue orbs work their magic. "You got a name?" I inquire.

"I am Midnight Phantom," he states with a smirk, which causes my stomach to do flips. Focus Mysterion, don't let him get to you. "I work anonymously to prevent destruction and bring peace to this town. You will never see me in this form again. I'm only here tonight because I have knowledge to impart."

"What kind of knowledge?" I question, feeling a little uneasy.

He doesn't answer for a while, his knowing grin only growing in intensity. I counted the seconds, holding my breath for any form of a reply. I'm certainly not prepare for what happens next. He turns to face me, his onyx eyes locking with my ocean ones, almost trapping me in his gaze as he whispers "You are not alone, Kenny." A jolt of electricity shoots through my body as he adds "I know why no one remembers."

I don't even need to ask, I know he's talking about my deaths. I grab the front of his hoodie tightly, afraid that I will miss my chance at finally finding out who I am, even if he only has a small amount of information. I at least deserve to know why nobody seems to recall me dying, until now. "Why?" I ask eagerly. "Why does no one remember?!"

"Remember the time you and your friends started working in the tooth business? When you were kids?" he questions.

"Does it have something to do with that?" I inquire hopefully.

"No," he replies. "You will have to pay attetion, be patient and let -the fuck- go of me if you want answers. There is much I have to tell you and this whole thing is a heck of a lot bigger than just you."

I sigh defeatedly, loosening my grip on his hoodie. "Ok," I nod. "I'm listening."

"Kyle Broflovski started to question his existance, and while you were... uh... otherwise occupied-"

"Attempting not to drown in a lake," I interrupted. "Other people may not remember how I died, but I do."

"Ok. Anyway, this eventually led to him vanishing, or so the others thought. In reality, he jumped, between dimensions." I quirk an eyebrow at him and he flashes me that knowing smirk again. "Kyle Broflovski, is a teleporter."

"No fucking way," I argue in disbelief.

Midnight Phantom only nods "He also has incredibly strong telekinetic abilities. However -like your deaths- he has no recollection of his powers whatsoever. He is probably the strongest and therefore most vulnerable super human in South Park, if The Coon was to find out before him he would be dead in two seconds flat."

"But how-" I started, only to be cut off.

"He's not the only one either," he stated. "Stan Marsh can hear animals thoughts and has geokinesis, Eric Cartman can create a bolt of electricity so strong it would have killed Cthulu instantly had he been on your side, Tweek Tweak can run faster than the speed of light, Craig Tucker can still shoot lasers out of his eyes -along with other uses-, Wendy Testaburger has super strength, Butters Stotch can manifest any object or illusion he wants, Token Black can shape shift, the goth kids have pyrokinesis... the list goes on and on."

"So, wait a minute. Nobody knows about this?" I ask. "Not even the people who actually have these powers?"

"No one except us," he states. "Our powers allow us to avoid someone else's power."

"Who?" I question, desperate to know who's causing this.

"Clyde Donovan," Midnight Phantom answers confidently.

"Clyde?" I inquire. "What the hell does Clyde have to do with this?"

"Clyde's power is the reason why everyone forgets, even him," he explains. "He can do things with his mind, alter memories and place ideas in peoples thoughts that weren't supposed to be there. If he was smart he could control people through thoughts, but I think we both know that's not likely to happen."

"So Clyde has been erasing everyone's memory of my deaths?" I ask through clenched teeth, starting to feel more than a little annoyed. "But he wasn't even there for some of them!"

"It's out of his control," Midnight Pantom replies. "It's like an automatic defense mechanism, his mind automatically erases anything bad that happens or anything that could turn into a serious situation so he won't have to deal with it in the present, or sometimes the future."

"What are you saying?" I question. "Are you saying I have to kill Clyde? Because that doesn't sound like something a super hero would do."

"He doesn't have to be dead for the effect to wear off," he responds, shaking his head. "Just unconscious."

"So all I have to do is kill myself in front of the others while Clyde is unconscious and they'll remember," I muse. "Thanks for the advice," I state, turning to leave.

Only I find myself being pulled back as a hand wraps around my arm, before I come face to face with those, black, cavernous orbs again. "No," he says. "Think, do you really want this information getting out? All hell would break loose! You cannot, I repeat canNOT tell anyone about this! Don't you get it? You die to protect them from the same fate. Have any of your friends -aside from that one mishap with that Pirrup kid- ever died while you've been around?"

I searched my brain for any traces of evidence that could bring me to say yes, but there aren't any. "No," I reply. "I always get killed before anything has a chance to take their lives."

"Exactly," he answers. "You die, so your friends don't have to. If they stay alive, they live forever, if they die, they die forever. You need to be here, and not being experimented on in a lab somewhere, to ensure that the protectors of South Park have eternal life."

"Ok," I sigh. "I won't tell anyone and I won't knock Clyde out so I can show everyone either."

"Good," he answers with a satisfied smile. "I must go now, I have survivors to rescue from the scene of a car crash."

I quirk an eyebrow at him once more "What are you-" but I am cut off when the screeching of tires and colliding of metal fills the cold, night air. I gaze at the smoke in the distance with wide eyes. "How did you know?" I ask only to be confused even further when I see that he has already gone.

Who the fuck was that?