CRAIG'S POV

It's been like this ever since I was young. Every time I walked out into the streets, I felt...watched. Like as if someone was following me and observing everything I did. At first, I was weirded out. I constantly looked around me to see if I could spot anyone that seemed off. Strangely enough, I could find nothing. Over time, I had come to get used to it. Instead of feeling uncomfortable, I felt...special. Protected. But I had refused to let myself grow soft and lax. For all I knew, this could be some sort of creepy rapist or kidnapper just waiting for the right time to take me. But little did I know, this person was much, much more than just a stalker...

I suppressed yet another huge yawn as I walked through the empty streets of South Park. According to my phone, it was currently 11:42 PM. Despite it being so late, I was in no rush to get home. It's not like my family would care. For all I knew, my dad could be out drinking with the other teens' fathers, my mom was probably fast asleep, and Ruby was staying the night at her friend Karen's house. I snorted at the thought. Karen was the younger sister of one of the guys in my grade, Kenny McCormick. They were poor as shit, I didn't see why Ruby was so eager to stay at their house all the time.

As I decided to stop drifting off into thought and focus on not getting lost, I realized...I was lost.

Great fucking job, Craig. I thought in frustration at myself. I didn't know what street I was in, and there were no signs that told me. Great. Just great. How am I going to get home? I certainly didn't want to wait for some creep to pick me off the streets, or get mugged. But the thing is, I got exactly the opposite of what I wanted.

AGAIN.

Trying to find my way around, I stumbled into an alleyway because I was stupid. Big. Fucking. Mistake.

Just as I was about to turn around and walk out, pondering why I even came here in the first place, I felt a large hand grab my arm in a crushingly tight grip. "Well, Marsh, fancy seeing you here!" a strangely familiar yet unfamiliar voice sneered. The voice was most definitely male, with a strange accent that screamed danger right in my ear. "Wha-I'm not Marsh!" I snapped, expressing my exasperation that so many people confused me for Stan and Stan for me because of our hair and eyes. Not so much anymore these days, because of our different heights and faces.

For some reason somewhere when I was fourteen or fifteen, I had missed a growth spurt and everyone in my grade skyrocketed to heights of about 6 feet or more, which didn't do much justice to my 5'4. At least Kyle and Butters were about the same, but that was only because they were naturally small. And to make me seem even smaller, I was never really into sports and skipped out on PE a lot, causing a very noticeable lack of muscle in my body. To put that in simple terms, as much as I hate to admit it, I looked feminine as hell.

I tried to pull myself out of my captor's grip, but he kept a firm hold on me. Goddamnit, I should have rushed home! "Let me go, you fucking-" I was cut off mid-sentence as I was suddenly yanked off of my feet and made sudden, painful contact with the hard concrete ground. "Hm, now that I look at you, you're too girly to be him." he observed, looming over me with a smirk on his face. "Good to know, cunt." I snarled, glaring up at him. My attacker looked quite bulky and strong, with a height that even surpassed the tallest guy in my grade, who happened to be none other than Kenny McCormick. Despite the moonlight making it hard for me to see his features, I could tell he had sandy blonde hair and hazel eyes gleaming with malice.

As soon as the words escaped my mouth, I received a sharp kick in the face. "A feisty one, I see." the stocky brute chuckled, narrowing his eyes with cruel amusement. The next thing I knew, I was picked up and slammed against the wall with my arms pinned above my head. "Even if you're not Marsh, I'm going to have quite a bit of fun with you." he whispered into my ear. Thrown into a fit of desperation and panic, I began to thrash in his grip, knowing full well it was pointless. But I didn't want to go down without putting up a good fight; my stubbornness got the best of me. I managed to get a few good kicks at his shins, but that was about it. Even when I felt I could go no further, I continued to struggle as he simply held me there and watched with a sadistic smirk on his face.

I felt myself slow down and weaken as I only strained myself further. After mere minutes of continuing to flail uselessly, I had soon stopped, panting and letting out strings of curses at myself for being so weak. "Let...me...go...you...asshole..." I growled between pants. The only response I got was a quirk of his eyebrows and his smile widening slightly. "Hmmm...how about no?" Only having to have used one hand to pin my wrists, I felt his free hand stroke my cheek, travelling down the side of my neck, down to my waist, and eventually to my jeans zipper.

"Stop it right there, Trent."

I let out a mental sigh of relief as the supposed "Trent" released me to turn around and face my supposed savior. The other man's face was obscured by a black mask, and he wore a midnight-black cape that obscured his hair and shoulders. Although I knew that I had never seen this person before, I could have sworn I saw familiar golden-blonde locks peeking out from under his hood. I shook the thought away; it was most likely my imagination playing tricks on me.

"Oh, well here comes the knight in shining armor to save his precious little princess." Trent snorted, grabbing me off of the ground to hold me with a secure arm around my waist, "If you know who I am, then you should know not to fucking mess with my business." the mysterious cloaked man remained unfazed, staring evenly into the sandy blonde's smug gaze. "Well you obviously don't know who I am, I presume." he replied calmly despite my situation.

I was torn between feeling relief or embarrassment that someone had come to save me. I'm Craig Tucker, the careless, sharp-tongued, bad boy of the school. And I was just on the verge of screaming for help like a damsel in distress from some random fairytale. I mentally slapped myself over and over again for being so weak...so...useless. All I could do currently was stand here and let Trent manhandle me as the scene unfolded. "Now, let Craig go, and I might not fuck you up too badly before sending you right back to Juvenile Hall." the cloaked figure demanded firmly. How does he know my name? I thought confusedly.

Despite the threats being thrown at him, Trent only laughed. "You can't do jack-shit to me. I'd drop cute little Craig and beat you up myself right now, but I did promise that I would have some fun with him. It would be a shame to let such a pretty little thing go before I'd be able to show him a good time, isn't that right, doll?" he looked back down at me, his free hand travelling down to my ass and giving it a rough squeeze. I felt myself involuntarily tense up and shifted uncomfortably.

The cloaked man's eyes narrowed into a deadly glare. "I'll repeat it one more time." he growled darkly, "Let. Him. Go!" With that, he took Trent by surprise with a sharp punch to the face, causing the bigger male to release me and stumble to the side in shock. "Get behind me." the stranger told me, shoving me behind him. If you're going to just push me behind you yourself, don't bother asking, dumbass! I wanted to snap, but kept my mouth shut since this guy just saved my ass...literally. "You're going to fucking regret that, lover boy!" Trent roared, the look on his face furious enough to burn through metal with just one glance.

Although embarrassingly, I watched their fight commence, a flurry of punches and kicks. Although Trent was more muscular and much stronger physically, his opponent was quick and agile, able to swiftly leap onto dumpsters and kick heavy things into the slower, stockier attacker. Eventually he was able to beat my assaulter, and called the police. Apparently, he was being taken to Juvenile Hall for five whole years, which has happened two times already. I'm not sure whether to feel triumphant or sorry for the asshole.

Suddenly, I was being swept off of my feet and carried bridal style by my savior. "Hey, put me down! I can walk, you know." I snapped, not wanting to be put in another damsel-in-distress situation. "I don't think that's the way you should talk to someone who literally just saved your ass." he replied, "Besides, I'm only taking you home. And it's really late at night, so it's not like anyone will see." I let out a small, defiant, huff and settled in his grasp. Be thankful, you ass, you might not have been able to walk back home if it weren't for him! a voice in my head scolded me sharply. I pushed the thought away. I can fucking take care of myself. I didn't need his help. I thought stubbornly.

"..."

"Wait a second, how do you know where I live? And how the hell do you know my name, too?" I hesitated before adding the last question, "...who are you?" the taller male remained silent for a time. I thought he wasn't going to answer, but he eventually replied with, "You know me better than you think you do. Just call me...Mysterion."

END OF CHAPTER

A/N: Craig, you are ever so tsundere. I just love uke Craig, don't you guys too? See you next chapter!

Much love,
Livvy