The Curse of Mortality

Chapter One

Obsession

There was nothing more painful than seeing him happy. Every time Kenny laughed, Damien's heart clenched painfully and there was a strange thundering sound in his chest that made him feel dizzy. He couldn't understand how seeing the object of his affection so content could make him feel so truly miserable. But it was an addiction, an urge to watch him every second of every day until finally he would force himself to turn away and return to the depths of Hell where he belonged.

And then he would return, almost everyday just like today and stand and watch Kenny as he lived his life, oblivious of his captivated stalker. Damien made sure it stayed that way. He refused to allow even the slimmest chance of being seen, using pure concentration to make sure that he stayed fully invisible during his stalking hours. Even the smallest distraction would make him flicker into visibility and sometimes he would feel himself freeze in panic as Kenny frowned, tilting his head curiously and glancing in his direction. But he'd never been quick enough before Damien flashed out of sight again.

He watched him for two years, obsessively following him every almost every single day from the moment he woke up to when he took the bus to school, sat through class, played with his friends after school and then returned home and fell asleep in his bed. Damien would even watch him sleep, daring to step into his room silently and sitting in the corner, watching the blond twitch in his slumber. His face was never peaceful when he slept; he was always frowning or whimpering, caught in the throes of a nightmare that plagued him every night. And Damien would watch helplessly as he suffered.

Sometimes he would be brave enough to pull up the covers and carefully crawl into bed next to Kenny, tentatively brushing his fingers against the younger boy's bare back. He always kept a few inches of distance between them, worried that any more contact would wake the boy up and he'd be forced to teleport back to Hell, away from the one he adored. At times Kenny would turn over and Damien would find his heart racing and his body paralyzed in shock and wonder. Electric sensations would shoot up and down his body and he would feel all of his muscles tense in anticipation as they moved closer and closer over the course of the night.

Time would pass without warning and the moment their lips were about to touch the sun's rays would peek over the horizon, streaming in through the windows and hit Kenny's face. For a second, a soft light would make his beautiful features glow, making them ethereal and almost angelic and Damien would be immobile from the utter attachment he felt in that second. Then he would jump back and leave the earth and return to the place that he despised.

His home.

Then he would rest for a few hours, mourning the moments where he was away from his beloved. He would curl up in bed, a gentle smile on his face counting down the moments before he could return to earth and revisit Kenny.

Some nights were worse than others. He would grip his bed sheets, nails digging into the mattress. Thoughts of Kenny would crowd his mind and every fiber of his being would scream because of the distance separating the two of them. Doubt would enter his brain and torture himself wondering whether the blond boy would even notice his existence or care. Just because he was devoted to Kenny didn't mean that the other would necessarily feel the same way. And the thought drove him frantic, causing him to being a shaking, nervous wreck until he would collapse from exhaustion, panting for breath and scowling. He hated how this boy could make him so crazy.

But now, there would be no more grief. He was going to take action, going to finally do what he had been planning to since the moment he fell for the blond. There would be no more waiting in the dark, filled with jealousy and longing and forced to hide from the world. He had a plan that would bring him the happiness he deserved.

He glanced down at the book in his hands, shivering with excitement. His eyes scanned the pages carefully, taking in every single detail down to the last ingredient. He attempted to focus on the task at hand, but it was difficult when he was so filled with eagerness and he could barely form the words for the spell. He stuttered through the page, repeating it several times until he finally got it right. Then, once he had practiced enough to make it absolutely perfect, he reached out towards the pentagram and placed his hand in the very center.

The pentagram began to glow, a red light emitting from the lines with a burning heat. He felt the sign searing into his skin and gritted his teeth, telling himself that it would all be worth it once he was done. One the ritual was complete his father would have no idea that the laws of natural death were being broken.

And then Damien would be free to kill Kenny.

Permanently.

00000

"Where's Kenny? I haven't seen him all day," Stan said, glancing around the classroom. Kyle shrugged, too absorbed in his work to care. Cartman, in the meantime, was flicking spitballs at Butters, who kept jumping up and swatting them away. Even at the age of seventeen he hadn't changed, still the malicious, terrorizing bastard he had always been. During the past few years he had devised more devious, more cunning plots to dominate the world or eliminate the Jews and although each of them had failed he persisted, never wavering in his constant hatred.

Despite this, and despite his animosity towards his friends, they had remained together and had even helped them out once in a while, although he refused to admit it. Just like before, he still remained closest to Kenny, whereas the other two had maintained a very secure brotherly relationship as always.

"Who cares about that poor piece of shit? He wasn't here yesterday either," Cartman snapped, obviously irritated. When Kenny didn't come to school, he had to put up with Stan and Kyle's friendship, which was one of the last things he wanted to do. Not to mention nobody else laughed at his sick jokes. He flicked his pencil towards Butters, who shrieked and was immediately told off by the teacher. "Or the day before…or…" He frowned, glancing up with a disturbed expression on his face.

"Kenny hasn't been in school for four days. How did we not notice?" Kyle demanded, puzzled. The other two blushed, slightly ashamed that they hadn't even realized that their friend had been absent. "I guess we've been too busy. We should check up on him afterschool." Stan nodded in agreement.

"You two can go. I don't give a damn about him," Cartman snapped. Truthfully he was just too lazy. Not to mention he refused to show even the slightest hint that he cared about any of his friends. Cartman, even during his adolescence, had remained spiteful towards all his friends, backstabbing them whenever possible and showing the smallest possible concern for their wellbeing. The only time he cared was when he could make money out of their suffering and, knowing Cartman, he would always come up with a sick method of doing this.

"Yes you do, you fat son of a bitch!"

"Shut up, you stupid Jew!" Once again they were bickering, just like always. Only this time Stan didn't have anyone to share an exasperated glance with. He decided that he would go to Kenny's house, once the bell rang in a couple of seconds.

"Don't make fun of my beliefs!"

The bell rang, interrupting their argument. Stan stuffed his book into his bag, zipping it up and flinging it over his shoulders. Kyle followed him out the door, nearly knocking over a few people. Cartman trudged after them reluctantly, hands shoved in his pockets and teeth gritted. He grumbled under his breath, swearing and cursing the other two.

They walked towards Kenny's house, each of them entertaining their own theories about the reason behind Kenny missing school. Stan wondered if Kenny was perhaps just slightly ill, like most normal people when they skipped school. Kyle thought that Kenny might have simply been having some trouble at home, whereas Cartman simply blurted out loud that the thought Kenny was missing school just was he was a lazy, poor piece of shit.

All three of them wondered the same thing, but only Stan said it out loud after many minutes of pondering. "Do you think he might have died again?"

In a single, swift motion Kyle grabbed Stan by the shirt and swung him around until they were only inches away, their noses almost touching. The fire in Kyle's eyes stunned Stan, as his anger burned holes into his own. The hair on the back of Stan's neck stood up and he felt his blood boil from hurt and fear as the grip on his jacket tightened to an almost choking point. Kyle's face had suddenly flamed as red as his hair and his breathing became labored and pained and for a few seconds they simply stared at each other, electric sparks traveling between them. Finally, Kyle loosened his grip on his best friend, sighing heavily and allowing a soft groan to pass his lips.

"I'm sorry, Stan. I'm so…goddamn sorry…" he mumbled. "But when you said that it just made me…I just don't want to think about it, okay?" Adjusting his sleeves he turned around and continued to head towards Kenny's house. Cartman and Stan exchanged shocked glances, then followed silently after Kyle, worried that if the silence was broken there would be another outburst.

Two years had passed since Kenny's last death, in which he had fallen off the roof of a building. None of them liked to think about the deaths, but it wasn't his last one that had had the most impact on them. It was an event they never spoke of, but it had been the turning point in Kenny's life, where he had suddenly found the determination to live and continue living a perfectly normal life.

Kyle and Stan had helped him, and Cartman as well, though it had taken a lot of persuasion, and Kenny had fought to gain his freedom and won. And for two years he had not perished or even come close to death. And the four of them had become ridiculously close now that their friendship wasn't punctuated by the countless funerals, the painful goodbyes and even the exasperated feelings of familiarity. They had become accustomed to Kenny dying, so much that when he was gone it was barely noticeable to them, because he would always return the next day.

But this time it was different. This time, if Kenny died, there was surely no chance of him returning. He would be gone forever, never to walk upon the earth and after the bond that had made them inseparable, they didn't know if they could handle it. They couldn't handle the thought that Kenny would leave and never come back. Therefore it had led to no one ever mentioning the incident and they had just been grateful that he was still with them.

Kyle was the most sensitive to the subject, maybe because of his caring nature or perhaps it was for another reason. Stan never knew what that reason was, but he had taken a guess and felt that he was right in his judgment. But it was not his business, so his curiosity had remained unanswered.

Kyle stepped up to the door of Kenny's house, his hand poised in front of the rundown door and he paused, suddenly unsure.

"What's wrong, Kyle?" Stan asked. Kyle said nothing, shifting from one foot to another. His resolve had faded the moment he was faced with the prospect of actually facing the situation. The possibility of the worst happening was now present and suddenly he was ready to turn back and live in denial.

"He doesn't want to now what behind that door. Isn't that right, Kahl?" Surprisingly, it was Cartman who read the telltale signs of his anxiousness. "You being a coward now, Jew?" Before he could continue, Kyle's fist tapped the door gently.

The door opened slightly to reveal Carol McCormick, who glanced at them with slight confusion before smiling welcomingly. The three of them felt the tension melt away immediately. Kenny's mom wouldn't be smiling if her son had just died. She ushered them in immediately, closing the door behind them. And they stood in Kenny's poverty-stricken house, slightly uncomfortable as a few rats scurried around their legs. Cartman in particular looked absolutely disgusted by the mold on the walls and very obviously refrained from coming in contact with anything. Kyle glared as he said "eeew" when he stepped in something slippery.

The walls were covered in grease and food, with the wallpaper flaking off, revealing rotting wood underneath. Every piece of furniture was sagging from age and the couches were covered in holes with the fluff poking out, as if some absent-minded person had been tugging at it for hours on end. Most of the doorways were either empty or the doors were hanging sideways precariously, creaking loudly.

"Kenneh! Your friends are here to see you!" she called. When there was no answer, she frowned slightly. "He's been acting a little strange lately. Maybe you should just go on in and makes yourselves comfortable. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you." And then she left, glancing worriedly at Kenny's door.

"This is gross, guys. Kenny's house…is gross. Must be because he's a poor piece of crap," Cartman snapped. They opened Kenny's door, peeking through and spotting Kenny lying on his bed.

He looked terrible. He had taken off his hooded parka, his shirt and his pants– and the reason why was quite evident. His skin was slick with moisture and burning a fiery red color that almost seemed to radiate heat. Droplets of sweat ran down the sides of his face, which was tense and half-covered by his bare arms. He was biting his lower lip from the discomfort, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. There was dullness to his hair that was the result of a mixture of dirt, sweat and oil, making it obvious that he had not showered in quite a few days. When he caught sight of the three boys, he barely made the effort to lift his head, instead lifting his hand to wave momentarily before letting it drop.

"Holy shit, Kenny! What the hell's wrong with you?" Kyle cried, frozen to the spot. Stan moved forward hesitantly and put the back of his hand against Kenny's forehead. He cringed when he felt the heat being emitted from the blond.

"Jesus, he's burning up really badly. We should take him to the hospital."

"No…no hospital…" Kenny mumbled. His pillow muffled his voice. "I'm not…sick…"

"Of course you're sick, you dumb ass. You look like you've been baked!" Cartman snapped. "How much you guys wanna bet he croaks before tomorrow?" Kyle looked furious enough to strangle him. Stan admired his self-control as instead he sat next to Kenny, looking pissed off.

"I don't feel sick. Just…really tired and hot…and weird as well. I don't know what's…wrong with me, but it's okay…I'm better than the first day I got sick. That was…awful," Kenny said. He loosened his grip on his bed, sighing softly. He flicked his blonde hair away irritably. Stan said nothing about bringing him to the hospital, knowing that he would simply protest and kick up a fuss. Despite him being currently ill, Kenny would fight not to go to the hospital. It was a place he truly despised because of the memory of when he had first died for longer than a night. They never spoke of it and most times refused to talk of it, but since then Kenny had loathed hospitals. And Stan refused to be the one to step up and propose they force him there.

"Dude, are you sure you're okay?"

"I don't know…I just woke up and…my head felt really heavy and I felt like the room was boiling and…I couldn't move at…at…all," he groaned. "And I'm so tired and I feel really…weird. Like, nothing hurts and it's not like a…fever, it's just weird…you know?" He squeezed his eyes together and a few tears of frustration leaked out, but his lank hair covered his face so only Stan noticed it. "I don't know what's going on…but it's getting better, at least."

"You're probably so hot because you can't afford an aircon. It's 'cause you're poor Kenneh, you hear that? Your family's poor, Kenneh!" Cartman cut in all of a sudden with an insult. Kenny glared at him, flipping him off automatically. Stan understood Cartman's need to suddenly attack Kenny about his poverty, knowing that it was the only way he could truly deal with the situation.

About thirty minutes later they had settled into a comfortable conversation, with Kenny interjecting every so often when he felt slightly less dizzy. Kyle was leaning against the bed, Stan was lying on the cleanest part of the floor he could find and Cartman had sat on a wobbly chair that threatened to break every so often. Everything seemed as if it were completely normal.

Nobody paid attention to the fact that Kenny was lying on his bed, breathing heavily with his eyes glazed over slightly. There was no sign that there was anything wrong, because it was easier not to think about it if no one brought it up. There was an air of familiarity and closeness as they sat together, all of them feeling as though they were eight-years-old again and simply relaxing and hanging out with no troubles except for the occasional adventure.

At some point, Stan glanced up at the ceiling, his eyes following the cracks in the paint and the tiny insects skittering across the wall. As he watched, a small cockroach scuttled out of a crack and across the glowing red pentagram painted roughly on the…wait a second…pentagram?

"Um…Kenny? Why do you have a pentagram on your ceiling?" he asked. Kenny frowned and followed his gaze to the symbol. He did a double take and rubbed his eyes.

Indeed there was a pentagram painted onto the ceiling. It was a deep red color, like blood.

"What the hell is that?"

"Holy crap, it's glowing! That's fucking creepy, man," Cartman said, stepping away from it nervously. Kyle scrambled to his feet, as well as Stan, and the two of them moved back from it. The symbol had been placed directly over Kenny's bed and the red light was pulsing, flickering in and out of sight. In the silence they could hear a soft humming sound being emitted from the symbol. The pentagram vibrated suddenly and a soft, pained groan escaped Kenny's lips before he could stop himself. His eyes were wide with terror as he stared at the pentagram and he attempted to crawl off the bed.

"It looks like it's controlling him!"

"Get away from it!" Kyle jumped forward, hands grabbing at Kenny's arms roughly. He pulled the boy away, dragging him to the corner of the room. Kenny followed, eyes still trained on the sign. He still seemed tired, but fear had given him the strength to stand.

"I didn't draw that," he said shakily. "I've never seen that before in my life. How…"

The pentagram hissed and slowly began to turn black, miniature, hairline cracks slicing through the redness. The pentagram crusted over, becoming a black shell before their eyes it crumbled to dust and scattered onto the bed. They watched in silence as a seemingly non-existent breeze blew the dust off the covers. Eventually there was no sign that there had ever been anything unusual on the ceiling.

They were silent, too shocked to form any words. Stan didn't understand what the hell had just happened, but he was pissed off. Strange things had always happened in South Park, to the four of them especially, but this had truly scared them. This had interfered with their friendship and had caused one of them pain and terror. This was unacceptable to Stan. Being the leader of the group he felt it was his job to protect all of them…except for Cartman. Because, depending on his mood, Cartman just annoyed the shit out of him.

But he was responsible for what happened to Kyle and Kenny. And no matter what happened, he would never let them come to any harm if he could help it. He glanced over at Kenny who was slumped against the wall, eyelids drooping with a content smile on his face.

"Kenny, are you alright?"

"Yeah…I feel…better now. It's not so hot anymore and I don't feel strange. Just kind of…tired, maybe." And with that, he closed his eyes and dozed off, leaning against the redhead. Kyle smiled at Stan, relieved and slightly bemused. But they felt like the danger had passed and they were safe now.

They placed Kenny back on his bed, careful not to wake him. Already the flush to his skin had faded slightly and he seemed much more relaxed. In a rare moment of kindness, Cartman leaned over and lifted the blanket over Kenny. Kyle flashed him a surprised look until he realized that the overweight boy had in fact reached into Kenny's pocket to steal a candy bar. Stan glared at him, but said nothing, too worried about waking Kenny up. Instead he whacked him on the arm, eliciting a yelp.

Cartman stormed out, cursing his bad luck and the other two boys for bringing him there. He was obviously in a bad mood but they just ignored him completely. They were used to his mood swings and just learned to pay no heed to them. Silently, they closed the door behind them and left. Neither of them wanted to talk about what just happened. They felt that simply casting it out of their minds would be the best for everybody. So they walked down the street, laughing wrestling playfully until the incident was completely forgotten.

Neither of them saw the black-haired teen standing next to Kenny's window, watching him fervently. There was a small grin on his face that seemed almost malicious and slightly proud. He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes slightly.

Damien wanted to crow victoriously and run in right now and drag the boy back to his home. He felt exultant, triumphant and most of all he felt like he was finally getting what was owed to him. After he had waited patiently for so long, all he could think about was the moment he would finally feel complete.

He lifted a cigarette to his lips, closing his eyes and smirking slightly. He flicked his black hair out of his eyes and pressed the tip of his finger to the end of the cigarette, lighting it. Sometimes there were just certain perks to being the son of Satan. The power of his mind was a force to be reckoned with. But the things he had to give up somehow made him wish he had been born normal. Like when he watched children playing with their friends, or couple falling in love.

With one last, devoted glance into the room he jumped down, disappearing into the shadows where he belonged.