Warnings: Language, Sex, Violence, Death, Rape. Oh yeah and smoking…
Author's Notes: This is a short story I wrote for South Park Big Bang ( spbigbang . org), specifically for the South Park Reverse Mini-Bang 2012 event. In this event we were assigned a piece of artwork created by an artist participating in the event and challenged to write a 1500-8000 word story based on the image. I wrote this story in two days. Literally. So, I am not entirely happy with it, but I must say that I could not have come up with this story at all if it weren't for the artwork I was assigned. This story has very gruesome and graphic content and I normally would not have written anything like this, but this event challenged me and made me push my own boundaries to the breaking point. I am a better writer for it, and I am proud of this story (though it definitely needs some editing).
The illustration used for this story is not really K rated so I won't post it here. It can be found on spbigbang . org under Art Galleries (2012 SPRMB). The illustration is by numa.
Changes from the original post on South Park Big Bang: I made a few minor punctuation changes in this post and I also divided this into chapters and gave them chapter titles. And for each chapter I also added a short playlist of songs that inspired me to write it.
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park nor the characters of South Park. They are owned by Matt Stone and Trey Parker.
The Air Near My Fingers – The White Stripes
Help I'm Alive – Metric
Tyrant – The Bravery
o0o0o
Kenny's POV:
My friend Craig Tucker and I have a running bet going: How many times can he kill me before I just stay dead? That's what he calls it anyway, a running bet. I say it's only happened once, and I ended up back again anyway. Craig says maybe after a thousand, we'll see. I don't think he actually wants me to stay dead, though; I think he enjoys the process of killing me too much to want that. I enjoy it, too. At least, the beginning of the process, when he fucks me until I'm bleeding. The funny thing is, after he does that, dying doesn't seem so bad anymore. And I'm always curious about how he's going to kill me this time. Sometimes it's with a piece of wire, sometimes a gun. Craig prefers knives because he can bleed me very slowly and watch me die. But there's always an element of surprise to it. I never know where he'll cut me.
The first time he killed me it was with a pillow. We didn't have our running bet then, so it came as a pretty unpleasant shock to me when, during our post-coital smoke, he reached over and stuffed the pillow in my mouth. It wasn't one of his best, but I can't blame him. It was his first time. He said afterwards that he didn't like using the pillow that much anyway; he likes to see my eyes. He says they're beautiful, like the sky. Clichéd, I know, but still sweet.
Actually, I think I'm really starting to look forward to our sessions.
o0o0o
Sometimes, he takes me behind the school. I wait for him now, impatiently shifting my weight from one leg to the other. I feel nervous, as if I'm just about to kiss my crush for the first time. I think we're still in what they call the Honeymoon Phase.
He comes around the corner and stands next to me, hands in his pockets, elegantly slouched against the wall. God, he is so beautiful. You know those Greek gods that they have statues of? He looks that good.
"Hey," Craig says softly, and removes his hat. He knows I like his hair. It's just so feathery and black. I like to watch it shift in the wind.
"Hey," I answer, moving closer to him so I can borrow his heat. He's always warm, like he has an internal furnace going twenty four-seven. He casually pulls me to him and wraps an arm around my shoulder. I shiver, but not from the heat.
"I really fucking hate everyone," he says, snaking another arm around my waist. I'm flush against him now, and can feel myself getting hard.
"Oh, yeah?" I say, trying to sound nonchalant despite my increasingly-apparent need of him.
"Yeah. I especially really fucking hate Ms. Scott. I'd love to see her get fucked in the ass with a crowbar. Wrapped in barbed wire."
I shiver involuntarily again. I sincerely hope he isn't dropping any hints of future plans.
"And Cartman. God, I want to mess him up so bad. I fucking hate all of them. Except you."
He brings me in tighter so that my chin rests on his shoulder, and cups the back of my head with his hand.
"No," he says softly. His warm breath tickles my ear. "You I don't hate at all."
He slides one leg in between my own, rubbing his thigh against me. I gasp with pleasure, my jeans growing even tighter with the strain of my erection. Not wasting any time, Craig pulls my belt loose, turns me and pushes me hard against the wall. The rough texture of brick scratches my cheek as he thrusts urgently against me, sucking and biting my neck. I let my pants drop to the ground.