Hi everyone. I hope you enjoy my southpark- Soul eater crossover. If you do, please follow and favourite. I will try and update as regularly as I can. And again, I hope you enjoy. I will post a warning with each chapter as I do with most my stories. Have a nice day/night wherever you are! Warning: story contains BoyxBoy (don't like, then don't read), swearing, scenes of extreme violence and ratings may be turned up at a later time.

Adults always tell their children that their are no such thing as monsters: There's no such thing as the darkness that is under the bed, there's none of the shadows that lurk in the corners of rooms or that pass by your window.

Parents are so good at telling lies. They lie so well that eventually even they come to believe their own truths.

It is quite powerful how self belief can fuel someone. Belief that they are not in a world where they are the most powerful. A world where they are ants beneath people's feet. Humans... they are the smallest of creations. The think that they are supreme? Well there's just one problem with that.

There are creatures. Creatures that walk the surface of this world. Belonging not to the light as humans do, but to the darkness. These people are often made into legends or myths, they inspire some of the most horrific tales of suffering and pain that history has to show.

After all.

A sound soul resides in a sound mind and sound body.

As humans moved on with modernising civilisation they forgot the old ways. They forgot that they had to hide and stand behind their guardians. They forgot that they all had a reason to fear the blackness inside their own hearts.

They forgot why they crawled into shelter from the darkness.

This is a story of someone who managed to walk and survive in both worlds after having what felt like his own, come tumbling down. A story of how him and his friends fought for freedom and love. Trying to escape out of their own town and the hidden hells of it.

It all starts one morning in December.

-Stan's POV-

I just wanted an ordinary life.

I was happy before I found out.

I guess I better start from the beginning, my name is Alexander, I am sixteen years old, I spent most my life keeping to myself, I don't trust others enough to get close to them after…. What happened.

I go to a special school for… kids who are different, apparently because I wasn't how society deemed the idea of me as 'normal' that meant everybody else could take it out on me for what I am, but I cannot change any more than a leopard can change its prints. That's what my father and mother had said to me. I had to go away because I was different. Just like my sister, them and my grandparents before me. All because of something to do with our god damn family. Don't get me wrong, I get on quite well with my parents... well my mother at least. Me and my father just never really found much in common. We would clash like two swords on a battle field. We never had any common ground and just grew apart the older I grew.

My mother though, she had always been there for me.

While my father decided that I had nothing worth while to contribute, my mother had always encouraged me. She had fought for me as hard as I could to stay at home... but eventually she had even said it herself. I had to go to this school. Sorry... correction. This prison. South Park Academy. Named after my home town. Apparently it was where she and my father had to go... before they had proved themselves. I never understood what the hell that meant. Proved themselves... what?

Anyway, I better start this story in order; it all began on the last week of term.

I went to a boarding school here in the wide open country and mountainside. I had spent most my time here, from the time that my parents had turned around to me at the age of seven, to now at the age of sixteen where I still, out of all the others who had been my parent's friends and their kids, hadn't proved myself the way that they had over the time they had been here at this fucking stupid hell hole!

I didn't go off campus much except when I had to go and buy some new clothes, we wasn't that far off a small village by the sea coast, it was about a half an hour walk but it was peaceful, the beach, the sea, the sound of waves lapping on the shore, it often helped me bring myself serenity while I battled with my own personal demons. It wasn't easy to be deal with depression, to constantly have the darkness in your head aimed through you, constantly trying to break and fracture you. To push you to the limits where you felt as though everything around you was nothing more than a large pile of shit.

But anyway, you probably want to hear what happened right? This is how everything in my life began to make sense... how my families inherited secret finally came down to me.

-Break-

I looked around the classroom coming out the daydream of being on the beach, imagining those long stretches of sand dunes and waving touches of grown grass in the sand which would softly grace my palm as I would listen to the melody of waves crashing across each other.

I would much rather have been at the beach instead of this stupid class room.

The walls were brightly painted and decorated with smiling faces and big posters that read; Friends forever.

They treated us as though we were still fucking children!

I leant back in my chair and looked out the window; my reflection was just barely visible in the darkened blue glass pane, I was nothing special, I wore a sapphire blue shirt with sleeves rolled up to expose my pale forearms and elbow length black gloves which I wore to keep my scars hidden from the view of others. I didn't like the feeling of wearing long sleeves, because they felt rather constricting, like the clothes were suffocating me... but I didn't mind wearing the fingerless, black long length gloves, hey, go figure. The front of my shirt read; keep calm and don't make me angry. The font was a bold crimson which stood out nicely among the blue framing, they were both my favourite colours, so the fact I had found a shirt that I like that much, it was just nice to be able to have a piece of clothing that reflected me. Around my neck was a necklace with a single gold ring attached to it: my mother ring which she had gotten from my grandmother. She had never trusted it to anyone else. Not my older sister. Not to show or explain it to even my father. Only having given it to me.

It was my most important possession.

I looked towards my features, I didn't mind the way I looked, but I certainly didn't appreciate it either. At the front were thick black, spiky hair stood out on a thin, pale face and thin built body, while at the back of my hair, it was cut short to make it stand out all the more, while a red and blue beanie was tilted back keeping the line of spikes more thickly to bush out.

But don't let that deceive you.

I'm strong and fast, I had no choice but to learn to fight at my other schools and with all the times I ran away from people, running just became easy. But then there was my eyes; a startling and bright azure blue, with a sharp pupil that looked as though it wanted to shift, if eyes were the window to the soul then they would just see the darkness in the pits of mine.

At the front the teacher kept rambling on to the class, "Remember class, with the final week of term coming up before Christmas, those who will be staying here better give in notice before it's too late." In the reflection of the glass I could see his gaze shift to me, a grin spreading across his face as I let out a quiet sigh. I detested it when he picked on me in class. I knew that he would pick on me, jut for the fact that he always would! "Marsh."

I hated it when he called me by my last name. "Please tell the class what you think of these lines." He pointed towards the board.

Mr Mirsad, oh how sometimes I hated him.

His gaze was locked on me and I could see him trying not to grin, "Please do tell us what you think of this tale, that is, if you can read it." Around the class most of the students snickered. Just because they thought that I was okay looking, they assumed that I was a complete air head. They thought because I cared to pay as much attention to myself on the outside as I would any other aspect, that I was vein... But I wasn't stupid. That was the last thing I was. I knew the damn story which I was looking at in front of me.

It was a tale, a really old one, a tale of a woman who had been defiled in the temple of Athena in Greece, she was a beautiful maiden named Medusa but her beauty had allured the God of the seas Poseidon who took her on the cold floor against her will. Basically, he raped her. He attacked her and raped her. Then her own patron Athena had cursed her, (even in those days there was just no justice, those who had power used it to oppress the weak), Medusa had been a victim which was only to much understood in modern days by very few people, that was the answer, she was just a victim who had the tale flipped on her and then made to look like a monster.

"I don't know sir." I muttered and moved my gaze down to the floor.

"Well if you spent less time staring at your reflection and more time listening, you might do well." He grinned.

I felt my ears burning from embarrassment.

I hated this class. I hated the people in it. There had been times where I had actually managed to enjoy it, mostly when I had still had friends in here: Butters Stotch. Kenny McCormick, Wendy Testaburger, Craig Tucker, Tweek Tweak... hell! Even fucking Eric Cartman! The person that everyone thought would crash out of this school and get sent back to our home town... but no. All of them had come to this school and within a couple of years, or while reaching the age of thirteen, they had passed some secret test that the students had and had all been transferred to a different off campus school.

By now, everyone else I had known or were the kids of my parent's friends, they were off enjoying what ever new school this was. Though... I never heard off them much any more, let alone got to see them. I was lucky if I got a text every couple of months from them... but I couldn't help and admit that I did feel even worse for the fact now that I was the oldest boy in this school, still attending the private lessons which the teachers offered. Most others my age had been sent home, saying that they couldn't succeed, while as they said to me that I had the great and most potential. That they weren't ready to give up on me like the others were...

The school bell rang for the end of the lesson and the thirteen year old's in their other seats, rose and walked out whispering quietly about how thick I was. Some of them were bunched into pairs... that was the strange thing about the students at my school. When they left the class, they would often leave in twos. A lot of the time before they left, they would get close to each other then suddenly one morning, the two students would be gone and another pair would replace them.

I turned my gaze back out to the window.

I wish they would give up on me. I thought dejectedly.

-Break-

Next period wasn't so bad; it was a free lesson. My favourite part of the freaking long day. We got very little time to ourselves during the days, we always ending up in our own little work shops or private tutor sessions, whenever we weren't in a main class like, Maths, Science, English or most praised for importance by teachers; History.

Besides, normally whenever I had a free class, my tutor would try and pin me down in a class room with other students so that I could learn how to socialise better and talk to more people! I mean, not literally, but every time I saw her, she would always chide me and question whether I had been talking to people or not. But ever since my last friend Eric Cartman had left, I had completely lost all time and patience to talk to the other students. I was sixteen years old in a classroom full of kids who were way younger than me! It was too awkward to talk to them... as if it wasn't already.

So I do what I do every time I got a free lesson and had managed to weasel my way out of some stupid workshop which my tutor had arranged to make me more social.

I went to the art classroom, it was one of my favourite lessons with two of the best teachers.

You see the school had decided that Art and Music weren't just that important any more, so they had combined both subjects into one room. It wasn't because I loved the subjects themselves, but mainly just because of what the work in the subjects did for me.

As I entered the room I smiled as I saw the familiar painting and clay pieces around the edges of the room while the sound of soft piano flowed, it was almost like a lullaby, Professor Thomas and Danny sat at the head desks of the room, they smiled when they looked up and saw me, "If it isn't our star pupil." Danny's voice rang out, she was dress in a blue lace dress, she had a strong build and form. Her voice was slightly husky carrying a faint trace of her old life before she had decided to take control of it and put her life into her own hands.

Even though we weren't the same in the fact that she was Transgender and I wasn't, I respected that she had been the one to take her life and make her choices to make herself happy, while she had taught me to do the same with my depression and had kicked me into gear to make me happy with the life I was living. "I hope your not skipping again." She winked with a pearly smile. Flicking the long curtain of dark hair over her shoulders and letting her eyes sparkle in the light.
"Although, it wouldn't be a problem if you were, you have a lot of work to do with that competition coming up soon, will you be playing Piano or presenting one of your drawings?"

That was Thomas. Dressed as he always would in a plain shirt with a pair of faded and torn jeans which were splotched with traces of coloured paint. His hair was a sparkling gold and his eyes were a dark hazelnut. His skin was a soft peachy colour and his build was muscled strong... was stronger than the most average artist.

When I first came to this stupid school he found me getting told of by one of the teachers for walking out Mirsad's lesson, that's when he had first showed me the art and music room, it was tucked away in the back of the school in the lower levels.

Most days he wore a black shirt and jeans with blood red tie, he always kept his appearance to be top and best that he could be. But considering that we was already nearing the end of term, and it was pretty much the last session of the day, I understood why he wasn't dressing as though he was on a competition for Mr Universe... which he totally could be.

He moved out the seat of the main piano and smiled at me to sit. Quickly chasing through near piles of sheets of paper to try and figure out which looked the best to his eyes. "Take a seat." He nodded.

And I did.

The sound of the piano just came naturally to me, just like putting a pencil to paper and drawing, I never had understood why I could play or even if the fact that I continued to want to play, but the fact was that, I enjoyed it and my therapist thought that I should keep playing the instrument because it was good for me. "Why don't we try picking up where we left off last time." Danny smiled. "The theme from love island and remember to pace your rhythm."
"Yes miss" I nodded my head and began playing, the tune became recognisable instantly, the lightly played song coming instantly to the piano. The beautiful notes mingled among the notes of the air with serenity and tranquillity. Two things I didn't often feel within myself.

I felt so safe when I was playing music like this, each key and note was correct, something about making beautiful music just made me feel at peace. It was straight forward, press the right key and receive the right sound in response... something that even I could do right.

However.

It was only when someone else came into the room I realised I had finished the song, "Wow that was beautiful" said a voice and I looked shocked, then again even the professors looked shocked, the boy smiled as he walked in confidently, leaning faintly on the wall once he had and smiling down at me with perfect white teeth and deep emerald eyes. He had a mess of curly crimson hair... Probably just about the same height as me. He was thin but athletically built,His arms were slightly toned under a orange winter jacket which had the sleeves rolled back up over his arms. He wore a deep green shirt underneath which matched the jewel colour of his eyes. Then like me he wore some black jeans, though mine were leather and his were denim, and some regular old dark trainers.

I rose an eyebrow and let a small blush move across my cheeks at the compliment but kept a calm poker face all the same. "Oh... uh thanks."

Somewhere in my mind, some part of me screamed for me to recognise that he was the first other sixteen year old that I had seen in this school other than me!

"May I?" He smiled and pointed to the spot next to me.
"Oh... uh... yeah sure." I nodded, not noticing how Danny and Thomas behind me were grinning to each other knowingly.

What I couldn't recognise was the fact that as the boy sat down, something inside me burned with the inferno of a supernova and the suction of a black hole as I was finding my self, subtly moving close as the boy eventually just rose an eyebrow and pulled me closer from the edge of my seat so that I could read the book of notes in front of me. "Hey, I haven't got a cold." He chuckled and gave that dazzling smile once again. "My name is Kyle Broffloski."
"Stan Marsh." I returned with a curt nod, trying to avoid that sparkling gaze. "How come I have never seen you around school before?" He wondered. "Honestly, it's been driving me mad, I thought I would find another person who's the same age as me!" He joked. "Honestly, I was getting tired of thirteen year old's and listening to their jokes."
"Trust me, most sixteen year old's aren't that much better at conversation. Least of all me." I muttered the last part but he just frowned slightly and tilted his head.
"Why's that?" He asked softly and placed a hand on my back.

Had it been with any other person, I would have shrugged him off, I would have ignored him and walked away, but when he placed his hand on my back... it felt as though something inside of me was awakening. Like some set of hidden nerves had sparked and ignited under his touch. "Because not a lot of people think I'm a dead weight socially because I have depression."

What. The. Fuck. I frowned deeply, finding no logical reason for the fact why I had just so openly told him that. Why the heck had I told some boy I just met, the secret that I had kept guarded for the last six years!

"It's nothing to be ashamed of." Kyle shrugged and patted my back. "I admire that you have it and still do this." He nodded his head towards the piano. "It's inspiring that you don't let it rule your life."
"Oh... uh... thanks?" I said, not really sure how to take that compliment from him.

I blinked out for a minute as I stared into Kyle's eyes and he held my gaze. Keeping his hand lightly on my back. "Oh they so are the duo." I heard Danny whisper excitedly. "Only a duo click like that!" She squealed excitedly to Thomas who hushed her softly.

Kyle rose an eyebrow in their direction but shook his head and turned back to look in my eyes once again, gently moving his thumb across my spine. "So, how long have you been playing for?"

I had been about to answer, but I never got to.

The sound of distant screams exploded from inside the school as a chorus of roars became the back track to the world around us.

This is how everything began to end.