Chapter Text
CH. 1
Denial
Death was inevitable, Kenny knew this.
Death was something that came naturally to most, and oftenly to him. It bothered him, sure, it bothered him a fuck ton. But, eventually, he got used to it.
He got used to being mauled by trucks, shot in the head by some crazy redneck, exploding out of nowhere. He always seemed to grab the short end of the stick. Sometimes intentionally. He knew it would happen, and he tried to ignore it most of the time. He tried so hard to forget the pain and suffering, to forget the sadness conjured because of it, to forget how his friends would turn a blind eye and continue on with their day like nothing happened. Not every instance did he die, but he definitely died more than most.
Damn, being God’s favorite isn’t always the most favorable thing.
And frankly, Kenny didn’t really understand why that title was bestowed upon him. I mean, shit, he’s been damned to hell more times than he can remember, and definitely more times he’s visited heaven. Hell, he’s not even mormon! And he’s a little perv!
Whatever, heaven or hell, wherever he’ll end up, if he even does ever stay dead, he’ll end up somewhere. Because death is inevitable. Death is expected.
What isn’t expected is one of your best friends trying to fucking stab you.
“C’mon Kinny! We gotta show them how it works,” Cartman pleaded as he stepped closer to the boy. He reached into his pocket and took out a switchblade.
Kenny wobbled back, eyeing the blade. “I’m mnot lettingm youh mmurdah me, ffatboyuh,” he mumbled. He wasn’t going to let that prick kill him. He wasn’t going to die. Not this time.
“Oh my god! Cartman, you— you can’t just stab Kenny for some stupid science experiment!” Kyle exclaimed.
Stan crossed his arms and scoffed, “Yeah dude, lay off.”
“It’s not science! It’s real! Maybe you douches will remember if it happens right in front of you!” Cartman explained. “Hiyahh!” He shouted, running towards the boy in the orange parka and pinning him to the wall.
“Jesus Christ, Cartman! Get off of him!” Kyle argued, trying to push the fatso off of Kenny. “It’s not worth testing, Kenny could die!”
Cartman let out a hearty laugh, sending spit particles in Kenny’s face, and the boy instinctively shied away. He would’ve done more than just shrink in on himself, but not when a blade was aimed right at his neck. “Mffuck offph, mCartman. Theyh won’th remembah anymwayz.”
“Oh yeah? We’ve never tried. Hey! Hey, Stan, make sure to get a photo!” Cartman said. He swung his arm back, preparing to make contact.
Shit, maybe I am going to die, Kenny wondered.
Stan started, “Seriously, Cartman, stop—”
Then, the knife was skewed right into Kenny’s neck. Goddamnit, Kenny thought. Blood rushed to his mouth, urging to be coughed out. He didn’t enjoy how familiar the taste was. “Kuh…”
“Oh— Oh my god! Holy shit, dude! They… You killed Kenny!” Stan announced.
Kyle punched Cartman in the jaw. Hard enough to knock him down and let Kenny slump to the floor, but not hard enough to knock him out. “You fucking bastard!” He shouted. Kyle followed Cartman to the floor and began to wail more punches on him.
Fucking dick getting what he deserves. Well, getting a taste of what he deserves, Kenny realized. His brain was going fuzzy, and the words and actions being said and done in the room were starting to slip away into an eerily familiar darkness.
He thought he heard Cartman cry, and that made him smile. He saw Kyle beating the shit out of him and Stan trying to break it up before Cartman ended up dying as well.
Kenny almost laughed, almost. It hurt to move, or breath, or think, but it was worth it to think of Cartman dying. And it was going to be worth it tomorrow, when Cartman would seriously fucking die, when Kenny would get his payback for endless years of intentional ignorance, and when he would fight Cartman with a good goddamn reason.