Welcome to another story by ME!
I want to start by thanking you for taking the time to read my stuff! I also want to denounce any ownership of South Park, I am merely a fan with some ideas.
This is going to be my longest and most elaborate story. I've wanted to write it for a while now but I wanted to get my smaller stories made first.
I've also made and will continue to make some art for this story. I will be posting them all on my Tumblr (themightypookums) so if you like the story you should give that a look as well.
I hope you enjoy my story and please like and leave a review!
"I was trying my best to pack the empty hole in me with whatever I could, but something still didn't feel right. The feeling was intense sometimes. I woke up in a cold sweat a few nights because of it. The panicking feeling haunting me until I finally tired myself back to sleep.
Then I discovered something. Something I never knew before. Something special about me that would literally change the course of my life without me even knowing."
Chapter One: I Am…
Denver is nothing like South Park. It hasn't felt the same since we left. I mean, yeah, South Park had its issues, but it wasn't anything compared to how fucked up Denver is. Homeless guys and mobs were nothing. There were gangs and drugs but they were child's play compared to the crowds running around the dark back alleys of LoDo and 16th. I could have stayed in South Park, stayed with my family, my sister and mother, but I was pulled and pushed away from every direction. They wanted me to get away from the small mountain town. They wanted me to get away from the weirdness, the constant non-stop of crap that kept attacking the town. They wanted me to live a normal life.
Boy, were they sorely mistaken.
Shortly after graduation, Kyle, Stan, and myself packed all of our crap, along with some hand-me-down furniture from people around town, into a large moving truck and started the two-hour drive to Denver to move into the three-bedroom loft apartment near the university.
"Come on, Kenny!" Kyle shouted as he carried his box of priceless knick knacks he had on his lap the entire trip inside the building.
I slipped out of the driver's seat and sighed. The building looked like a refurbished factory with five floors. The only thing I knew was that we were on the third floor. I hadn't seen the unit. I wasn't even planning on moving in until a few weeks earlier when Kyle was looking at the ad online. The three of us were gathered in his room. I was reading one of his comic books at the end of his bed as they browsed through advertisements for apartments in Denver.
"Ah!" Kyle groaned as he leaned back slightly and tilted his head to rest it on Stan's shoulder. "We either find apartments that are cheap but are in terrible shape, or we find apartments that are nice but way out of our price range."
"We'll both have part time jobs," Stan mentioned trying to calm our agitated friend while keeping his eyes locked to the computer screen.
"It still won't be enough," Kyle replied and leaned back forward. "We'll have to be borrowing money from the school all the time. I don't want to be in debt for the rest of my life!" he whined loudly.
"We'll find a way, Kyle. Just stay calm," Stan said, his voice flat like he was more just saying it to calm Kyle's nerves rather than actually believing it.
I shifted to flip the page of the comic book in my hand but stopped. I was half reading so it was easy to focus in on the feeling of intense eyes staring at me. I didn't turn my head but shifted my eyes to look over. Kyle was staring at me from over the top of his laptop, a huge grin splayed on his face. I turned my head and the grin grew wider.
"What?" I snapped, and that was it. I was pulled into the idea of moving in with them. I wasn't going to school, but I could work full time and cover most of the cost of the apartment. It wasn't as expensive when three people were living together and I wanted to help my friends. Plus, I had to admit, it was a pretty sweet apartment. It was a cross of old and new. Old structures and brick walls complimented the new appliances and small accents thrown in subtly around the space. Kyle and Stan insisted I take the large bedroom, even though I really didn't need it. I was used to a small living space and having no bed. Suddenly I had a large room and a large bed that Stan's dad inherited from a co-worker. I dropped one of my boxes onto the floor and looked around at the space. It was surreal. I had never expected to get where I was, but I was there. I was both excited and terrified at the same time. Maybe going with them wasn't such a bad idea after all.
A few weeks after that I got a job at a garage. Kyle got a part time job at a book store, and Stan was hired at a veterinary clinic to watch the reception desk and help with tending to the patients if they ever needed it. He was practically giddy when he got that job. The hesitation of living away from home with Kyle and Stan slowly disappeared. I really didn't mind it, but there was something...missing. I was restless. I wanted something else.
We did our best to keep busy through the summer. We toured all around Denver, found the best Chinese restaurant within walking distance of the apartment, and discovered hidden spots only the locals really knew about. Our collective favourite was the underground coffee shop that hosted local bands and artists and even had a comedy night every Thursday. I was trying my best to pack the empty hole in me with whatever I could, but something still didn't feel right. The feeling was intense sometimes. I woke up in a cold sweat a few nights because of it. The panicking feeling haunting me until I finally tired myself back to sleep.
Then I discovered something. Something I never knew before. Something special about me that would literally change the course of my life without me even knowing.
~/~~~~~~~~~~~~\~
I stood at the corner waiting for the light to change. A heavy crowd of people surrounded me. Rush hour. I had my phone out in front of me, something I never had before. I was addicted to it. There wasn't anything that caught my attention, I just loved having it. Loved being able to afford something that was mine. I was surprised that I noticed the young, restless boy beside me suddenly pull away from his mother's grasp. He had been bouncing around as we all waiting for the light to change so we could cross. His mother was getting aggravated as she tried to calm him and hold onto a stroller that was wedged within the crowd of people. As he pulled away, I could hear the torn tone in the woman's voice of having to choose between two impossible decisions.
"Gabriel! Stop!" she screamed over the noise of rushing cars and loud chatter.
The boy was gone though. His excitement leaded him to step off the curb and the car horn blared loudly. My body moved a hell of a lot faster than my brain. I was suddenly grabbing the boy's arm to throw him back into the wall of people. I couldn't stop my momentum though. It was too late. My body fell forward and the impact sent a shock through my body. It was a strange sensation. I was warm and cold at the same time. Everything froze and yet sped up. I could hear voices in the void of my darkened mind but they sounded miles away.
"Oh my god! Someone call 911!" a man yelled.
"Is he breathing?" the familiar voice of a woman asked in a small sob.
"I don't feel a heartbeat," the man explained.
"He—He saved my son. Oh god! Someone help him!" the woman sobbed loudly.
"There's nothing we can do. He's gone."
Holy shit, I thought. Did I just fucking die?
I sat up with a loud gasp and panted heavily. Sweat formed on my forehead making my shaggy bangs cling to my skin. My vision was blurry as I tried to focus on my surroundings. A wall of old, red brick with a large metal sign saved from the South Park dump hanging in the middle of it. I instantly fell in love with it when I saw it. It was rusted and old but the silhouette of the wolf baring its teeth was untouched by time. I died. I was breathing heavily and had my fingers pushed into my damp hair. I was fucking dead! How did I end up here? There was a small knock on my door that snapped me from my panicked thoughts.
"Kenny?" Kyle asked as he swung open the door. "You gonna sleep all day or what?" I blinked and it was obvious Kyle realized my dishevelled state from the sudden shift of his expression. "You alright?"
Maybe it was just a dream? A really, really vivid dream? "What—What day is it?" I asked trying to keep my voice level.
"It's the twelfth," Kyle answered with his eyebrows furrowed together as he tilted his head slightly. It was the eleventh as I stood on the corner looking at my phone. I remembered the date in the top corner of the screen. "Man, you must have done some serious partying or something last night," Kyle said with a small grin across his face. "You were gone when we came home and we didn't even hear you come home. Crazy night?"
My face scrunched into confusion. Something was weird. Kyle was so calm and nonchalant. There was no way it was real. There was no way. "I—I don't remember," I managed to say in a low voice as I stared at my red headed friend.
Kyle chuckled and shook his head. "Kenny, man, you've got to slow down or you're gonna get yourself killed," he said and turned to leave the room as he chuckled lightly.
I tried my best to push the memory aside but it rattled in my head, coming up whenever I was left alone to think. I couldn't get a clear head wrapped around it all. It felt like a dream, but it was the realest feeling dream I had ever had. When I stood at the corner staring at the spot on the curb that was stained with a few blood droplets, everything spiraled around me, but it was still too distant. It wasn't possible. It wasn't. Was it?
~/~~~~~~~~~~~~\~
Three weeks later, Kyle, Stan, and I stepped out of the movie theatre after just seeing the third Purge movie. We were obsessed with the series and how utterly horrifying it was. We had gone to a late-night viewing after sitting around the apartment to the point that we were getting on each other's nerves with our usual shit. Kyle being a know-it-all, Stan picking on him about his height, and me just being annoying in general. My phone screen read 12:07am as we stepped out of the building to the sidewalk. The neon lights and streetlamps lit up the strip of restaurants, apartment buildings, and a popular downtown nightclub: The Vault. The sidewalks were full of people, as they were every Saturday night. I think the Vault was having a theme night because everyone was walking around wearing neon spandex like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"They've got to make another one!" Kyle said loudly and snapped me from my thoughts. He and Stan were walking in front of me in our usual pattern. I didn't mind hanging back and listening to their conversation. Kyle quickly rushed forward a few steps so he could walk backwards along the sidewalk. He dug into his bag of skittles to pull out one and tossed it. I had to maneuver quickly but he caught it and Kyle threw his hands up in the air in victory as he yelled, "And he scores!"
"Rigged," Stan said with a devilish grin.
Kyle shot him a glare. "Asshole," he snapped.
"Bitch," Stan retaliated and they stuck their tongues out at each other.
I rolled my eyes. Nothing would ever come in between those two weirdos. I mean, they were both my best friends and I was theirs, but they had a special connection between each other that was almost a bit disturbing. It had been there since daycare. I had always been there in the same friend group, but it wasn't until middle school that the three of us became an iconic trio. They were Super Best Friends and I was the addition. The weird title was something they thought up in elementary school and no one ever let them live it down. It was true though. No matter what, they had each other's backs. When Stan broke up with Wendy and went into such a deep, dark void of alcohol and self-pity, Kyle never left his side. When Kyle finally came out in high school about being gay, Stan was the first one to hug him and tell him nothing was different. I admired their closeness and was thankful they let me be a part of it.
"Up top!" Kyle yelled. He had stopped with his hand up to wait for me to approach and slap mine against his. It was a solid connection that made Kyle whoop loudly as he turned back around. "Hey! Let's cut through the back alley."
"That's a terrible idea," Stan said with a flat tone that made Kyle turn his head to frown. The red head stopped abruptly and I almost ran into him. If there was one thing Kyle was, it was stubborn, and Stan just activated it.
"It's a short cut," Kyle said bluntly, his arms locked together over his chest.
He was a full foot shorter than Stan and I was in the middle of both for height, but Kyle always managed to make himself look three times bigger than he was. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my sweater and watched what was no doubt going to be an amusing altercation. Stan sighed loudly as he slowly shook his head. I knew exactly how this was going to go. They were going to bicker back and forth like an old married couple, Kyle would then shout something about Stan being stupid, Stan would retort with something about Kyle being stubborn, they'd both go silent, Stan would break and give in to Kyle's demands, and Kyle would walk away victoriously. It was the same every single time, but it didn't make it any less amusing to watch.
"It's dangerous, Kyle," Stan explained in a flat tone. He was always the voice of reason between the three of us. Kyle was the adventurous one always trying to get us to do different things. I was the instigator and impulsive one with the bad ideas. Stan was the voice of reason who would come between us when our ideas were getting too out of hand. A perfect team. "We should stay to the main street. It'll take longer but it's safer."
Kyle groaned loudly as he rolled his emerald eyes. "Come on! Nothing's going to happen. You're just being paranoid," he explained and let his voice mutter quietly at the last part. They had done this so many times, they knew exactly where to dig in to make the other respond in a certain way.
"I'm not being paranoid, I'm being cautious," Stan replied and I could hear the rise in his voice.
"You're being a mom," Kyle replied quickly.
Snap, there it was. Stan's shoulders went rigid. "I'm not being a mom," he growled between clenched teeth.
Kyle shrugged his shoulders slightly. "You're kind of being a mom," he said and then turned his head to face me. "Isn't he, Kenny?"
I quickly shook my head as I pulled my hands from my pockets to wave them in front of me. "No! Don't pull me into this!" I said loudly. "I am not responsible for anything here."
Kyle rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Stan. The taller boy crossed his arms over his chest to match Kyle's stance. "It doesn't matter, you're still acting as if you've got a huge stick up your ass. Which is strange considering I'm the gay one here," Kyle explained.
I tried to stifle the loud snorting laugh that forced its way from my chest but I couldn't catch it in time. Stan's lips wanted to turn up into a small smile but he fought the urge. I was impressed, I didn't think he'd be able to keep himself together at that one but he did. "I'm just being the smart one here. Rather be safe than sorry," Stan explained flatly. He was struggling to hold back his amusement.
"You're being an idiot," Kyle explained with a scowl.
"And you're being fucking stubborn!" Stan shouted, his amusement disappearing faster than it had formed.
Heads turned all around from passing strangers. I sheepishly apologized to them before turning back to watch the silent showdown between my two friends. They weren't speaking but their fight was continuing in their eyes. Intense emerald green fought against bold steel grey. The moment dragged on far too long before Stan finally threw up his hands with a loud groan. And that was game and point.
"Fine!" Stan shouted irritatingly. "Fine, we'll take the stupid shortcut."
Kyle threw his arms up above his head. A few skittles jumped from the small bag he held to clatter against the sidewalk. "Another win for Kyle Broflovski!" he shouted. The heads were turning again but we ignored them to step into the dark alley.
My skin crawled the further we travelled. I didn't like how dark and quiet it was. The full moon above gave off enough light for us to see in front of us but only to a short distance. Kyle was leading the march with a soft humming tune that was stuck in his head. Something clanged from behind. I quickly spun around to look over my shoulder but didn't stop. I couldn't see anything. I was getting irritated basically walking blind.
"We should probably go to the campus to get our schedules and take a walk around before school starts," Kyle explained plainly. I turned back forward to continue following behind Stan. "I know we took that tour a while back, but it was so disorienting. All I remember was the cafeteria."
Stan snorted. "Of course that's all you remember," he teased and I saw his cheek lift slightly from a small smile that no doubt formed on his face.
"Shut up, Stan. At least I was sort of paying attention while you were checking out all the girls," Kyle explained and turned his head to grin over his shoulder at Stan.
Stan's broad shoulders shrugged. "What can I say? I am a sexual being with an eye for good art," he explained. Kyle and I both simultaneously groaned as Stan laughed deep in his chest.
The feel good moment was cut short though when a dark figure suddenly moved from the shadows and stepped in front of Kyle. "Holy shit!" Kyle yelled in a startled tone. "Jesus, dude, you scared the—," he started to snap but stopped when we all saw the flash of light against steel as the figure showed the sharp blade of their knife.
Stan immediately grabbed Kyle's arm to pull him back as he put himself between his friend and the armed figure. Footsteps thumped behind me. I quickly spun around and another figure stepped from the shadows to surround us. They both wore hoods pulled too far over their heads for us to make out their faces in the dark but I could tell by their build that they were male and scrawny. Their hands were jittery and they couldn't seem to stand still. I had seen that body language before. Too many times before. They were druggies looking to get their next fix however they could.
"Give us yer wallets," the figure in front of Stan growled.
Stan and Kyle moved behind me but I was frozen still. I could hear my heartbeats in my ears. My pulse was racing. I stared at the figure in front of me as ideas passed through my mind. Ideas of how to disarm him, get him to the ground, and wrap my hands around his neck to push. To squeeze. To—
"Kenny," Kyle's voice broke through my dark thoughts as a hand grabbed my arm from behind me. "Kenny, it's okay. Just do as they say."
I let the thoughts slip away as I pulled my wallet from my pocket to toss it at the figure. They caught it with a shaky hand. My hand twitched at my side. I wanted to move. My body begged to move. I was too constricted.
"And the ring," the hooded figure added to his demand.
"What?" Stan asked in a panicked tone.
I didn't have to turn around to know what was happening. Stan's ring. His only remaining connection to his grandfather. The man left the ring specifically to Stan who tucked it away until his finger was big enough for it to fit and then he never went a day without wearing it.
"Come on, man, you've got our wallets. There's at least a couple hundred bucks between the three of us," Kyle explained with a solid tone. "Just take the money. You don't need the ring."
"We can pawn it and get a couple more hundred bucks. Hand over the ring," the figure demanded.
"No!" Kyle snapped angrily.
Kyle, stop. You can't reason with the drugs. "Kyle, please," Stan's voice came out flat and small. He was nervous but trying hard to hide it.
"No! Fuck you!" Kyle shouted and I couldn't see but I was pretty sure he was aiming that anger towards the figure. At least, I hoped so. They were both reacting to the shock of getting mugged. Stan went immediately to blind fear as Kyle went directly to blind rage. Me, I was strangely calm. My heart was still racing, but I was keeping myself level.
"Are ya sayin' a ring is worth more than yer lives?" the hooded figure asked. "Cause if ya don't hand it over, we're gonna take it by force."
"Kyle," Stan snapped. I'm sure he was stopping whatever response was about to come from the red head. "It's okay. Just calm down."
Tension lingered in the silence. Tension between us and the muggers. Tension between Kyle and Stan. Everyone was tense, especially the figure in front of me. He was restless. He couldn't stop moving. He was in some major withdrawal symptoms which made for poor judgement clouded by desperation. This was all desperation. The worst possible thing that could happen…did. Something crashed nearby. It may have been a stray cat or the wind knocking over something. Whatever the hell it was, fuck that thing.
The figure lunged forward, knife leading the charge towards me. I felt something rush through my body. Adrenaline, and a hell of a lot of it. I immediately took a step as I turned, my arm out to grab Kyle to move him with me. The mugger stumbled past us and I lifted a foot to slam it into the figure's side. He crashed hard against the brick wall. There was some scuffling followed by Stan letting out a pained grunt. I turned to see him hit the ground. The mugger had his knife raised and lunged forward, directly at Kyle. Everything moved in a flash. I wasn't sure I had even moved until I was standing in front of the mugger with the cold steel of the knife blade stuck in my chest. I blinked. I knew I had been stabbed. I knew the blade stuck through my chest and into my heart, but my body wouldn't register the pain. I'm pretty sure that's what people called shock.
"Kenny!" Kyle screamed. My legs gave out underneath me. His arms wrapped around me and we fell to the ground. Everything was spinning as Kyle carefully laid me down. "Kenny, oh fuck. Fuck!"
Stan was at my other side. I was finding it harder to breathe. The pain was starting to gradually crawl from where my body had tucked it away. "Kenny, you have to stay awake. Look at me," he said and he had a hold of my hand but I couldn't feel it. I couldn't feel his hand.
"I can't—," I tried to say and coughed. Blood splattered all over my face and chest. "Can't feel."
"Stay awake," Stan snapped as he pulled his phone from his pocket to frantically tap the screen with one hand. He wouldn't let go of my hand with the other.
"It's okay, Kenny," Kyle said and my eyes shifted over to see his green irises brighter from the tears that formed. "Just stay with us. Please, just stay with us."
Everything was fading away. The cold. Kyle and Stan's voices. The sky behind their heads. My breathing. The pain. Me. I was fading. I was…dying?
"Fuck!" I woke with a start and my weight flung over the side of my bed. I slammed against the floor with a hard thump and groaned. Sunlight streaked across the hardwood floor of my bedroom to touch my fingertips. I sat staring at the light across my skin for a moment before realization set in. "Holy fuck!" I yelled and sat up. I breathed heavily and pulled my shirt off over my head to look down at my chest. No wound. No scar. Just an odd shaped freckle. Had I always had that freckle? I gently touched my fingertips to the spot and my bedroom door swung open.
"Kenny, you alright?" Kyle asked as he and Stan stepped inside with wide eyes. My chest tightened. "You were screaming," he added. I scrambled to my feet. "Did you have a night—?"
My arms wrapped around them. Kyle was crushed against my chest to stop his talking. He flailed as I held on to him tightly and Stan chuckled with a small pat of his hand against my back. "Dude, you alright?" he asked with a confused tone.
I let go of them and stepped back. Kyle gasped loudly for air. "I'm fine! That's the point! I'm not dead!" I said loudly, a wide grin formed on my face.
Kyle and Stan both looked equally confused and worried. They shared a sideways look before turning their attention back to me. My heart raced in my chest. "Man, that must have been one hell of a nightmare," Kyle said teasingly.
My grin slowly faded. "What do you mean? Guys, don't you remember?" I asked, my voice strained against me.
"Remember what?" Stan pressed curiously.
Panic passed over me. I knew these guys. I knew their mannerisms, their tones, and their expressions. I knew when they were angry or just faking. I knew when they were worried or stressed. I knew when they were sad just by the way Kyle's lips would pinch into a thin line or Stan's shoulders would tense. I knew when they were pretending, and they were not pretending in that moment. They were both genuine in their confusion. They couldn't remember.
"Last night," I answered slowly, waiting for their response.
Kyle's eyebrow quirked up. "Last night?" he asked and tilted his head slightly. "We went to dinner, saw the Purge, walked home, and then went to bed."
Stan scoffed. "Which, I still think cutting through the alley was a stupid idea. It was dangerous," he mentioned.
Kyle rolled his eyes. "Nothing happened! We made it home, unscathed. Stop worrying about it so much," he explained and I know I was staring wide eyed in shock. They didn't fucking remember. I mean, it was a bit of a haze to me, but I know it happened. I could still feel the knife in my chest. I could feel my life slipping from my body. It happened, but they couldn't remember and somehow, I was alive. It didn't make any sense. How could I have died but woke up alive the next morning? How could they not remember? "Kenny?" I snapped out of my thoughts. Kyle and Stan were staring at me again with worried eyes. "Are you going to be okay?"
It was such a loaded question. How would anyone be okay? I thought about telling them, but it sounded absolutely batshit crazy. They'd either laugh and tell me to stop joking or throw me in a mental institution. I opted to stay quiet. I needed more information. I needed more proof. It happened two more times before I finally convinced myself. One of the times was intentional. The second time was not. But both times went the same way. I died both times, one of them I was even in the hospital when I finally coded. Both times I woke up the next morning in my bed remembering everything, but no one else could. I even went back to the hospital to talk to a doctor and a few nurses I remembered. None of them could recall ever seeing me. I sat on the end of my bed after returning from the hospital to run it through my head.
#1 – I was fucking immortal.
#2 – People couldn't remember me dying if they witnessed it.
#3 – I had to keep it a secret from everyone, including Kyle and Stan.
And #4 – Holy. Fucking. Shit.
It took me about a week to properly adjust to the realization of my new abilities. Trust me, I wanted to fucking panic. I wanted to freak out and throw shit and spiral into a mess of anxiety and stress, but there was no point. I had no clue why or how it was happening to me. I had nothing to go off. I had an ability. Whether it was a gift or a curse, I had no clue, but there was no point in dwelling on it, so I decided to move on. The hollow feeling in my chest though? That didn't go away.
~/~~~~~~~~~~~~\~
"I'm almost done," Kyle said with a small pile of books in his hands. He was standing at the top of a ladder that rested against the wall on wheels so it could be pushed all along the shelves with ease. He was shoving the books into their spots alphabetically by last name. A tedious job that was perfect for Kyle's brain. "I just want to finish putting away this cart and then we can go."
I threw my head back with a groan. "But I'm hungry," I groaned like a small child. I reached out to grab the ladder to give it a small shake and Kyle hurriedly grabbed on to it.
"Fu—Kenny, don't do that!" he snapped angrily. I grinned and he quickly reached out with a foot to kick my arm. I yelped and stepped back out of reach. "Go keep yourself occupied. I'll find you when I'm done."
"But there's no nudey magazines here," I whined as I rubbed my sore arm.
Kyle rolled his eyes. "Then find something else to read. There are other things out in the world to read, you know," he explained and turned his attention back to stocking the shelf.
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my sweater and spun around on my heels. The book store smelled like coffee from the small barista stall across the other side of the room. I wandered past the aisles to stand at it. The sign above the barista's head made my nose turn up. So friggen pretentious. How can there be three different ways to say large? What happened to medium?
"What can I get you?" the barista asked with such a happy attitude, it couldn't have been real. She was just good at forcing it. No one was that damn happy, ever.
"Uh," I dragged as I tapped my foot against the floor, still looking up at the sign. It was like reading a second language that I was somewhat familiar with. The words looked familiar, but what the fuck did they mean? "I guess I'll get a mocha latte?" Simple. Easy. Not too hard to fuck up. Was it going to be good? Fuck if I knew.
"What size?" the girl asked and I finally looked at her. She was cute at least. Her smile was way too damn big, but she had nice skin and bright eyes. I stepped forward and leaned against the booth. She didn't move away.
"Give me the biggest you've got," I said, the corner of my mouth turning up into a grin.
My flirting always earned one of two responses: either a slap or a number. I didn't get too many numbers. Not that I couldn't. I knew I was an attractive guy but there was always something holding me back. I could never quite get myself to that last step. Kyle joked the one time, "You'd think once you broadened your sexuality that you'd end up with a lot more opportunities, but you do worst than me in that department. And I'm playing on the extra hard difficulty!"
I had laughed. The way his mind worked was astonishing. How could anyone connect sexual orientation with video games so quickly? It was like his brain was always open to a million different websites to feed him information constantly. He never shut off.
"Think you can handle that much?" the barista asked and snapped me from my thoughts focused in on her small nose and plump lips.
I chuckled lightly as she picked up a large Styrofoam cup from the stack next to her. "Can you?" I asked in retaliation.
A small blush formed on her face and she picked up the small marker from the table. "What's the name?" she asked, ignoring my flirty question. She didn't hate it, she just wanted to play hard to get. Too bad I hated playing games.
"Kenny," I answered and felt my mood shift slightly.
"I like that name," the girl drawled back to me.
"If you like that, you should hear my phone number," I shot back as I held up money for her. Bam! Score for Kenny!
The barista smiled as she took the paper bill from me. I could tell she was thoroughly amused. She started to work to create my drink and I took the moment to plot my next destination. From the looks of how many books were in Kyle's cart, he was going to be a while, which meant I did seriously need to find something to do. I could stay and flirt with the cute barista but I was already bored of that. I could harass Kyle but I knew he'd kick my ass the moment we were far enough away from the store. That left reading.
"Kenny?" the barista called out.
I reached back without really giving the girl a look, thanked her quietly for the drink, and then left. Before I turned away I could see the look of disappointment on her face. Not surprising since I brushed her off without warning. Oh well. I started to wander along the aisles looking for anything that would peak my interest. Non-fiction. No. Horror. Not unless it's a movie. Romance. Maybe, if I'm desperate enough. Sci-fi. Ugh. Detective drama. Fucking really?
"Hah!" I exclaimed loudly after taking a sip of the warm mocha drink in my hand. It was good, but it wasn't what caught my attention. I turned into the aisle that caught my eye and immediately headed to the comic book section. Pictures and kick ass storylines. Perfect! I picked up a familiar comic to open it and started to read lazily. I loved looking at the drawings, taking in every bold line and mixture of colours. It was mesmerizing. Would I ever admit that I was secretly an art buff? Fuck no. I was allowed my guilty pleasure and I knew if I ever told Kyle and Stan then they'd torture me relentlessly about it.
"What about this one?" a boy no older than thirteen said a few feet to my side. I hadn't noticed him and his friend when I stepped into the aisle so they startled me while I focused on the comic draped over my hand.
I continued to read and sip my drink as he and his friend picked through the selection of Marvel comics. I liked DC more. The movies sucked, but I liked the universe more. "Ah! Not that one! It's so stupid!" the second boy groaned.
My spine shivered. I remembered being that young. Kyle, Stan, and I sounded the same as the boy and his whiny tone. Sometimes I still did but it was purely on purpose. I always managed to get a rile out of Stan when I did. "You can't turn down all of them," the first boy said flatly. He kind of reminded me of Stan.
"Comic books are so stupid! They're so predictable," the second boy said and I heard a mixture of Kyle and I in his voice. "Normal, everyday guy inherits abilities or discovers they have dormant abilities. Normal guy goes through life altering moment that makes him realize that his powers can be used for something more than his mundane life," the boy was explaining and I was suddenly disinterested from my comic book. Not that I was really paying attention to it. "Normal guy decides to use his powers for good to help the people around him. Normal guy becomes superhero. Normal guy beats up bad guys, goes through shit, gets a super villain, defeats super villain, gets the girl, happily ever after. The end."
The comic book clattered against the floor after it slipped from my hand. I quietly cursed and quickly reached down to pick it up. When I looked over the two boys were staring at me with curious expressions. I cleared my throat loudly and spun around to face my back to them. The pages crinkled as I flipped them open to land on a picture of the hero standing tall on the top of a building. That was it! Looking up from the book I muttered, "Holy shit," and that was the official beginning of it all.
~/~~~~~~~~~~~~\~
Step one was to make a costume. Considering I hadn't picked up a sewing needle a day in my life, I'd say I did pretty well for what we'll call the prototype. It was a hack job with no insulation or padding whatsoever, but it did the trick. The mask and large hood covered my identity along with altering my voice a bit. I stood in front of the mirror for an hour trying to get it right. Everything I bought cheap from a second-hand store. What I didn't realize while standing in the dimly lit store was that everything I grabbed was a dark set of purple, not black. I sighed as I stared down at the fabric in my hands. I considered taking it all back for a moment but there was something mesmerizing about the colour. The cape I made from the large piece of fabric was too big. Almost comically, but I didn't cut it back. First because I was too scared to take the scissors to it again. Second because I liked it. I added some gloves and boots and, voila, I had my first costume.
"Not bad, McCormick," I said to myself as I stepped back to admire my handy work that laid across my bed. I felt a shock of excitement pass over me. I hadn't felt so much excitement since I left South Park. "It's missing something," I muttered and scratched my head. "I'm missing something."
A soft knock on my bedroom door startled me. "Kenny?" Kyle's voice came through muffled. I quickly launched myself to grab all the fabric and tossed it into my closet. I quickly shut the door as Kyle opened the door to my room. I leaned against the wall and grinned. My heart was racing in my chest and there was no way Kyle wasn't going to be insanely suspicious of what the hell I was doing. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked suspiciously. I should be a goddamn fortune teller.
I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head. "Nothing really, just chilling," I answered. He didn't seem convinced but he wasn't going to press. He knew when to pick his battles.
"Alright, whatever, look, my special snacks keep going missing. I know I'm not eating them so that leaves two suspects: you and Stan," Kyle explained, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked so much like his mom when he did that. The same red hair and furrowed eyebrows. Cute.
I shook my head frantically. "It wasn't me." It was me.
Kyle's eyebrow raised. "When I asked Stan, he gave me the same answer, what do you suppose I do about that?" he asked. His voice was low in attempt to be intimidating. Despite his size, he was very good at intimidation.
"Well, one of us is obviously lying. I guess you'll have to start a full-blown investigation. Bloodhounds. Crime scene investigators. The whole nine yards," I answered and kept grinning, even though Kyle was making me uncomfortable with his intense green-eyed gaze. "Or maybe your snacks just ran away. Joined the circus. Started their new life as entertainment foods living with candy apples and cotton candy."
He let out a soft sigh and slowly shook his head. "It's amazing. I've never seen anything just disappear before. Right into thin air. And food, no less," he explained, sarcasm dripping off his words.
I shrugged my shoulders. "I wonder if the mystery on the missing snacks will ever be solved," I explained and then, click. Something in my head snapped together like puzzle pieces. I turned my head slightly to look at my closet door. The grin that was on my face stretched until my cheeks were shoving their way up into my eyes.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Kyle asked curiously.
"Kyle," I said and slowly turned my head back to face his confused expression. "I ate your snacks."
Kyle's eyes widened and he lifted a hand to point a thin finger at me. "I knew it! You bastard!" he yelled.
~/~~~~~~~~~~~~\~
So, there it is. The details of how Mysterion came to be. It took some work and a lot of trial and error, but he was real. He only ever came out at night to take down drug dealers, muggers, and gangs. It didn't take long for word to get out about the masked hero who was single handily taking out crime, keeping the streets safer for people. Being known was awesome in certain aspects. I was famous. One day when I stepped into the kitchen I saw Kyle watching the news. A blurry picture flashed on the screen of a figure unmistakably dressed in purple. It was not the most inconspicuous colour, but it had grown on me. I was fucking famous! Well, Mysterion was famous. The problem with becoming popular though is that you also become wanted by some pretty screwed up people.
It was sometime in September, just after Kyle and Stan had started their first year in college when I was jumped by a gang. Not a small one and not an inexperienced one. They knew what they were doing and they were well coordinated to do it. They kicked me and beat me with bats and steel pipes. I could hear the small pops and cracks under each blow but my body was blocking out any other feeling. Then I felt the sharp pain in my stomach. A knife. It wasn't fatal, but fuck did it hurt. I managed to get away from the group by throwing myself off the edge of the rooftop to fall into a dumpster below.
Add grappling hook to list, I thought to myself as I stared up at the sky.
I wasn't sure how I made it back home, but I stumbled into the bathroom with the trail of blood behind me and sat with my back against the wall as I breathed heavily. Everything hurt. I knew I was gonna look like shit for a while. My face was swelling and I no doubt had a few cracked, if not broken, ribs.
"Holy shit!" I quickly lifted my head to see Kyle standing in the doorway of the bathroom. A part of me was terrified and angry that I had let him see me, but the other large portion of me needed his help. His eyes were wide as they stared at me. He was in his pyjamas, hair disheveled from his pillow.
"Kyle," I managed to croak out in my normal voice and Kyle's eyes went from wide with panic to wide with worry.
"Kenny?" he said and quickly rushed forward to kneel beside me. The first thing he did was remove my mask and hood. "Holy shit, Kenny, you're Mysterion?" he asked.
I chuckled but it was cut short when a sharp pain jolted through my body. "Didn't see it coming, did you?" I struggled to say with a teasing tone through my pain.
"Stan!" Kyle turned to shout out of the room. "Stan! Get in here!"
"It's okay. I'm alright," I said as I reached out to grab Kyle's shoulder, staining his shirt with my blood that coated my palm. "It hurts like hell, but I'm alright."
"Idiot, you still need to be patched up and I'm not doing it," Kyle explained as heavy footsteps rushed down the hall towards the bathroom.
Stan appeared in the doorway half awake, half naked, and barely standing. He was breathing heavily and looked directly at me with the same wide eyes Kyle had. "Holy shit! Kenny!" he said loudly and rushed into the room.
"Can you guys stop saying that? It's not as bad as it looks," I explained and tried to shift into a different position but my wounds wouldn't let me. Everything fucking hurt.
"It looks really damn bad, Kenny," Kyle snapped in frustration.
"How are you not dead right now?" Stan asked as he examined the stab wound in my stomach.
I laughed at how completely screwed up that question was. That's a good fucking question, I thought to myself but didn't say. Letting them see that I was Mysterion was one thing. Telling them about my special ability was another thing. I still wasn't ready to tell them and I think they still weren't ready to know. So, I explained without lying but I kept certain details out of my explanation. My two friends were quiet as Stan stitched and bandaged me up. Kyle sat on the edge of the bathtub watching the entire time. They both had the same look on their face. A look of curiosity mixed with worry and maybe a bit of anger on Kyle.
"Here," Stan said as he handed me two pills and a glass of water. "It's not ideal, but it'll help with the pain a bit. Hopefully enough so you can at least sleep."
I downed the pills quickly and sighed. I think my body had finally given up on feeling the pain because everything was numb, but I knew the moment I'd try to move it would all come screaming back to me. Stan sat in front of me with his back pressed to the vanity as he stretched his legs out beside mine. Kyle was still perched on the side of the bathtub. They were both silent which was a bad thing. When they went silent, they were working on something in their head. I fucking hated it. It was driving me mad. I took another drink of the water and set the glass down beside me with what little arm strength I had left.
"Okay, let's hear it," I snapped and they both tensed simultaneously. "I know one of you must have a, 'it's too dangerous, you have to stop', speech in you," I said bitterly. I didn't mean to sound so sour but the judging looks were getting to me. They needed to say something. "Just let it rip. It'll make you and me feel better.
My sudden outburst strengthened the tension in the suddenly cramped room. It lingered until I couldn't take it anymore. I was about to painfully push myself out of the room but Stan beat me to the punch. "Do you want to stop?" he asked in a hurried voice as if the words had been hanging on the tip of his tongue and he finally pushed them off with one hard shove. I kind of wished it wasn't him spoke first. He sounded so goddamn sincere. At least with Kyle we'd probably fight. I needed a good fight.
I looked up at my raven-haired friend. It looked like the worry was gone from him and he was more curious to hear what I had to say. His head was cocked slightly to the side and his deep grey eyes full of attention were on me. I sighed and tilted my head back against the wall. I must have been hit there because it sent a dull pain through my spine. I couldn't even remember where exactly I had been hit during the attack. There were so many weapons and limbs, it was all a blur.
"I know it's not much, but I feel like I'm making a difference. I'm protecting people. And even though I am sitting here in excruciating pain, I don't want to stop. I don't want to give up," I explained and then waited for the drop of anger and frustration on me, especially from the red head beside me who had been staying uncharacteristically quiet. He was building something up, I just knew it. He'd let it build and build until he exploded in a fury of anger and shouting.
"Well," Kyle shouted finally as he slapped his hands against his knees. I flinched in reflex but realized his tone was nothing like I had been expecting to come from him, "I guess there's no need for a speech then."
I quickly turned my head to look over at him with furrowed eyebrows. He was smiling gently with the left corner of his mouth. "You're not gonna tell me to give it up?" I asked with a small tilt of my head.
He shrugged his thin shoulders. "Would you listen if I did?" he retaliated. I opened my mouth to respond but thought better of it. "That's what I thought. I mean, we've known you our entire lives and during that time, when have you ever listened to us when we told you to do or not do something?"
I hummed as I rocked my head back and forth a bit. "Maybe like two or three times," I joked and smiled, even though it the pain in my jaw forced me on the verge of crying.
"Exactly," Kyle said and leaned forward slightly. "You're an unstoppable force, Kenny, and I'm not going to stand in your way. But that doesn't mean you should be doing this alone."
Panic rushed through me. "You're not going out there with me," I snapped as I quickly spun my head around. Instant pain shot through me as the room spun wildly. I groaned loudly and slowly rested my head back against the wall.
Kyle shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. I just mean—Saving people isn't easy. You're gonna get beaten down a lot, and not just physically. It's all going to hit you hard emotionally and mentally too. When that starts happening, that's when you need to come to us. Don't carry around the burden by yourself, okay?" My heart eased. I nodded slowly. "And go to Stan whenever you need to be bandaged up because I'm not touching any of that."
"You do realize I work at a vet's clinic, right? I know absolutely nothing about human anatomy," Stan explained to Kyle with furrowed eyebrows. "I can barely tell a mouth from an asshole."
"That's just because they mean the same thing on you," Kyle shot and I snorted loudly in laughter. Stan lifted his hand to flip off the red head who shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Besides, I'm sure they can't be too much different from each other. I'm sure Kenny's in great hands," he replied with a wide grin that made Stan roll his eyes.
It was like asking your parents for permission for something you really wanted to do but you're too afraid to ask. There was so much anxiety built up inside you that when they finally said yes, you weren't too sure if you heard it right or if you passed out and dreamt it. You had to swallow back the lump in your throat and ask them to repeat themselves. That's exactly what it felt like when Kyle and Stan hugged me on the bathroom floor. They never tried to talk me out of what I was doing. Instead, they encouraged it all.
Kyle helped me alter my costume and Stan tended to my wounds to the best of his abilities. He made me promise to at least stay away from knives. I didn't promise. He stocked up on first aid supplies and stored them away where they weren't too obvious to anyone who might stop by. Kyle managed to convince me to hold off going back out on the streets for at least a week until I was at least sort of healed. I was stiff when I went back out, but the adrenaline quickly caught up to me and all I could feel was euphoria. The high of leaping from rooftop to rooftop and when my fist connected with an attempted rapist's face, all the pain washed away.
I had found my place above the crowds in the dark where I went unseen until I wanted to be. The one side of me was Kenny McCormick, a mechanic who lived with his two best friends in Denver with no crystal-clear vision of his future. The other side of me was Mysterion, the vigilante who couldn't die and was dedicated to protecting the people of Denver from criminals. It was the perfect balance and yet I still felt like I was missing something. That fucking void just wouldn't go away.
~/~~~~~~~~~~~~\~
"Come on! Don't be like that!" someone shouted from below.
Laughter. The small group turned into the bar to let the door swing shut behind them. I crouched at the edge of the rooftop and watched the figures moving below under the light of the lampposts and neon signs. The bitter January air was finding its way through my costume but I wasn't nearly as cold as I could have been. Kyle had drawled on and on about the special micro fibers and stitching pattern of some lining he found. He would never admit it, but he was enjoying helping me fine tune my superhero persona. I could see it in the way his eyes sparkled and his small half smile. I was completely lost in his chatter until he turned to look at me, rolled his eyes, and said, "This shit will keep your stupid ass warm." That's all I needed to know.
I lifted my hand to remove my glove and look down at the small, cheap watch Stan had bought me. Five more minutes and then I'd move to a different spot. I never wanted to stay in one spot too long in case something was happening somewhere else. Plus, it helped to keep me from getting too bored or caught. I was no longer just being hunted by criminals but the cops as well. They were getting antsy about my vigilantism and how popular it was getting. People were rallying behind me but the law was the law. Not like that was going to stop me. I wasn't about to stop protecting people, even if that meant embarrassing the local police by always doing their job for them. My methods may have been a bit different, but the goal was all the same.
A small group of girls stepped out of the bar to stumble onto the sidewalk. I would have been nervous about their awkward stumbling and loud, drunken voices if there weren't so many of them. Too many of them for criminals to bother pursuing. I continued to watch over the bustling street as the five minutes ticked by. When the time was up, I stood, straightened out my back, and moved to continue to the next spot. My heavy boots crunched against the gravel that covered the rooftop. I was almost to the edge when my legs stopped. A strong pressure weighed against my back, like something was pressing up against me, but there was nothing there. The skin on my spine tingled making the hairs there stand on end. I couldn't explain it, but there was something pulling me. Guiding me to turn around. To go the other direction. I slowly turned but there was nothing. The rooftops were clear and I was surrounded by the quiet darkness. The pressure was still there on my back though. I wasn't sure how to explain it, but I could feel that something was wrong.
The loud explosion in the distance nearly made me fall over. A three-story building a block away quickly went up in flames that roared up towards the dark sky. My body was moving before my brain could process everything. I was leaping from rooftop to rooftop and jumped to scale down the fire escape of a law firm building when my row of buildings ended. My landing was a little shaky but I paid it no mind. I'd feel it later when the rush of adrenaline washed from my veins. I stuck to the dark shadows of the alleys, my heavy cape rustled behind me as I pushed my legs to move as quickly as possible. My body ached as I jumped up to grab the bottom of the fire escape to another building. I pushed through the burn to climb up onto the roof and rushed to the edge. I was breathing heavily. My throat was dry and sore from running but the adrenaline in me made it hard to feel anything. I was beginning to get addicted to the feeling of my heart racing and my muscles tighten with anticipation under my skin. I was addicted to being Mysterion.
The building across the street was engulfed in the heavy flames as curious bystanders stood watching from the sidewalks below. It was a big building, but there didn't seem to be any issues. No one seemed injured. There was no immediate danger, as far as I could tell. It must have been an accident and thank fucking god no one was around to suffer because of it.
I let out a heavy sigh and leaned forward with my hands on my knees. "Fuck," I groaned as the burn in my legs spread throughout my body. "I need to get in better shape," I said, keeping the low growl in my voice more out of habit while wearing the mask than anything. "Starting tomorrow I'm gonna start running."
I lifted my arms above my head with a low groan to straighten my back. The tingling returned to my spine having disappeared during my run towards the inferno in front of me. I lowered my arms, slipped my hand under my hood to rub the back of my neck, and turned. Ice slid through my veins. The pressure was like a dense smog that lingered around me and made me sick to my stomach. A dark figure stood across the rooftop, their dark pine green cape rustling softly behind them in the cold breeze. They wore a metal helmet that reflected the light from the heavy flames behind me and a half mask covered the left side of their face from the top of their cheek to their hairline. Bright blonde hair slicked back stuck up through the top of the helmet. The rest of the costume was comprised of black and dark brown leather. The tingling in my back spread to the rest of my body. My knees felt weak underneath me. I could feel power radiating off the masked figure in front of me. The pull I was feeling was towards him.
"I've heard a lot about you, Mysterion," the figure said and I felt my breath hitch in my throat at the voice. Does it sound…familiar? "It's unfortunate I had to go through such extreme measures to meet you, but you don't make it easy."
It took a moment of processing to understand what he meant. I suddenly became very aware of the intense heat on my back. My hands curled into fists at my sides. "You did this?" I growled. It wasn't at all forced. It came so natural to me it was almost startling.
A sharp, menacing grin formed on his face. My body shivered as a sharp chill passed through me. Something about that smile made my body react intensely. "It got your attention, didn't it?" he asked in a snarky, cocky voice.
My hands shook as I took a step forward. He noticed my step and his shoulders tensed. Whatever—Whoever he was, he was cautious with me. I didn't doubt he had heard about me. The name Mysterion had been passed around quite a bit in the last few months. It even managed to reach the local newspaper. There was an entire article written about Mysterion and how vigilantes should be considered a good thing, not a crime. If someone wants to dress up in a purple costume, jump around rooftops, and beat up the scum that make our streets unsafe, I say do it, I remember reading. If no one is dying, why bother locking up the people who are doing something useful for once?
"You've lit an entire building on fire," I growled and felt the rise of anger in my throat. "You could have hurt someone!" I shouted louder than expected.
He shrugged his shoulders. That made my blood boil. What the fuck is wrong with this guy? "Trust me, it's only going to get worst before it gets better," he explained and the damn grin made my legs shake.
"Why? Why would you want to intentionally hurt people? To create destruction?" I asked, my voice lowered slightly even though my body wanted to react by screaming and flinging myself at him to tackle him and throttle him until he was a beaten mess. "Tell me!"
His slowly shook his head. "I don't want destruction, I want chaos. And I'm doing this because every hero needs a villain, Mysterion," he answered flat and true. "But don't worry, I'll make it fun."
He lifted his hand in front of him with his thumb and middle finger pressed together. My eyebrows furrowed together as I waited. He pointed towards me with his index finger and I suddenly felt intense power wrap around me. It pressed against me and made my chest tighten. I think his eyes started to glow. It was difficult to tell from the distance in the dark, but I could have sworn they lit up in bright violet. Then, he snapped his fingers, and in a flash a bolt of electricity shot from his finger to fly dangerously close by me. I heard the impact somewhere behind me that resulted in a small explosion but I was frozen.
What…the fuck?
My limbs shook. The tightening in my chest was still there. I was struggling to breathe.
He has an ability.
My eyes were wide and unblinking as I stared at him. My mouth was gaped open but I was finding it impossible to push out the words I wanted to say.
He's just like me.
"Who—?" I finally managed to crack through my nerves. His eyebrow lifted to disappear under his metal helmet. "Who are you?"
His grin formed into a full smile. I had to press my hands against my thighs to get them to stop shaking. I could still fell the power wrapping around me, pressing against me, keeping me grounded where I was. "You may call me Professor Chaos. Make sure not to forget," he said in a teasing tone. I opened my mouth to speak but it was cut short when he lifted his hand slightly again and shifted it a bit to point directly at me. He had intentionally missed the first time, but he wouldn't the second.
He snapped his fingers and I quickly stumbled out of the way. The bolt of electricity crackled through the air to impact with the edge of the roof where it exploded in a cloud of small flames and debris. The force of the small explosion knocked me off balance as I stepped back. I didn't fall but I couldn't get my footing before the next attack. The electricity struck next to me. I felt the intense heat on my face as the force from the explosion knocked me clear back. I was launched off the roof to slam against the wall of the next building before I crashed into the top of a closed dumpster. The impact instantly knocked the air from my lungs and forced the loud shout from my throat as my ears rang. I would have thought it was impossible for no one to hear the commotion I made if it weren't for the fact that no one came to investigate. I thanked whatever that they didn't so that I could lay on top of the newly dented dumpster staring up at the sky as I struggled to get my breath back. Everything hurt. Inside and out, I was in complete and utter pain, but I couldn't think about it.
I'm not the only one, I thought as my eyes adjusted to see the stars above.
It hadn't crossed my mind that there may be others. I was so worried about adjusting and focusing on my Mysterion persona took up most of my mind as a distraction to the panic I wanted to feel thinking about that fact that I wasn't normal. But I found someone. I found someone who wasn't normal, like me, and that person was a fucking psychotic nut bag. Just my goddamn luck. Only me. But I couldn't help the relief that washed over me as I stared at the glittering stars through the light pollution of Denver.
"I'm not the only one," I repeated and slowly closed my eyes.
I just needed to rest for a second. And then I felt it, a small flicker in my chest. The void inside me suddenly didn't seem so big.