Well that's it. I'm putting all my Death Note fics (Undetected, The Names We Hold, Unforgettable) for adoption.
I have literally just started watching South Park two days ago.
Warning: Lots and lots of OOC-ness in the McCormick family's part. Mentions of child abuse, harsh language, and gore.
SOUTH PARK ISN'T MINEEEE *sobs*
XXX
I wasn't drunk.
But I was still sure as hell about to scream my fucking head off.
I think Karen was crying again, though the slight sound was muffled and was reduced to only weak whimpering under gentle shushing. I spared a quick glance towards the stairs and the scowl faltered off my face a bit in relief at the sight of them safe on the top of the stairs, away from most of the chaos happening down here.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you, you useless little fuck!"
I turned my head back to my father just in time to feel the full brunt as his fist slammed right onto the side of my face, throwing me off my feet with the force and making my head collide with the ground. I bit back a cry of pain and felt myself getting lifted by the collar of my shirt, and just like that, I knew I was fucked.
I have a whole line of rules set up for myself to follow ever since these all-nighter fights started, and one of the top ones is: Don't get too close.
That's why mostly my parents and I, when we fight, I try to stay out of their (especially my retarded dickbag of a father)'s reach. During these fights we mostly just yell our throats hoarse and throw empty beer bottles at each other, which was perfectly fine with me.
Until now.
My mind immediately went to panic mode and my body froze up. I grabbed at his giant hands as tears started to form in the corners of my eyes. I never thought about what I'd do in situations like this. Bitter cold fear enveloped the back of my mind and my heart dropped down all the way to the soles of my feet, and going lower still. I grit my teeth in frustration and thrashed wildly until I couldn't even tell if that was even my dad trying to shake some 'sense' into me or my body shaking all of his
Mother groaned and yelled and shrieked some more somewhere off to my right, not that I ever see her actually trying to prevent her husband from fucking us all up.
Suddenly I was sent flying and the back of my skull bashed right onto a hard surface for the umpteenth time that night. It took me a while to realize that I had just been literally thrown against the wall. A foot came down and I tasted blood in my mouth. My eyes were closed from the pain.
At some point I opened them again and by that time, I was pretty sure that I had just received severe temporary brain trauma or something like that from the way the whole world spun around me. I think I thought I saw Kenny holding a hysterical Karen back somewhere in the middle of those stairs again. Kenny was giving me a concerned yet at the same time unimpressed and mildly questioning look with the rest of his face covered with the hood of his favorite orange poncho, as if he was asking a whole question with just his eyes: 'What the fuck are you doing letting that motherfucker push you around?'. I just grinned at him with bloody, crooked teeth.
I got up shakily onto my feet, panting, with arms over my middle. I chuckled breathily and resisted the urge to double over, wiping the little bit of blood from my lips with the back of my hand. I straightened up, ignoring the burning pain in my ribs, and smirked at my parents, who were, for some stupid reason, seemed to be watching me, waiting to see if I would stand my ground. Guess I did.
"Kenny," I slurred, gulping down the uncomfortable lump in my throat. I placed my hands on the wall behind me to steady myself, and tried again, careful to keep my voice calm and steady. "Take Karen upstairs, block your ears and start packing. If I don't come up in ten minutes… make a run for it, okay?"
My two siblings stayed in shocked silence for a moment, and so did the two adults in front of me. I looked away from my enemies' still forms and smiled a true, sincere smile, with no sarcasm, no fucking around, and no bitterness. I kept the small tilt of my lips until I heard small footsteps fading away, and Karen's sniffs and wails quieted to barely anything at all. Now, all I could hear was my own breathing.
"Carol, go see if the other kids are alright. I can take care of Kevin," Stuart broke the silence. He seemed to have sobered up a bit, but that didn't make him any less violent. In fact, that was going to be more trouble for me, which meant that my advantage of being the only not drunk one in the room, was gone. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo.
"Now, now, mother," I lurched onto the kitchen counter, almost collapsing on top of it, and made a grab for the knife drawer. I picked what looked to be the largest one in my dazed state, closed my fingers around it, and turned towards the strangers in my house once more. "Where are you going?"
The man tried a lunge at me but that really just made it all the easier for me to bend my black and blue knees in a dodge, thrust my hands up, and ta-da. He was dead at my feet, bleeding his corpse out.
The woman tried to burst my eardrums by screaming so loud I was sure the neighbors in the next block could hear it, not that they would care. I took care of this by slitting her throat so that her voice turned to gurgles as she drowned, slowly and painfully, in a pool of her own blood. And breath. And maybe a bit of drool.
I fell to my knees on the side of her body and shushed her, the way I had seen Kenny did to Karen lots of times before, whether as himself or as that cloaked question mark guy. Argh, the woman was still alive and writhing. Gross. I took the knife by both hands and raised them over my head.
I let the blade fall.
Stab.
And stab again.
At her chest, her stomach, her shoulders, her neck again, her face, her forehead. Disgusting. All of this made me sick.
I only stopped when a small, shocked gasp reached my ears. I raised my head and realized that tears were dripping down my cheeks.
"K-Karen…?" I stuttered, trying to wipe the warm liquid from my face, but probably only succeeding in smudging red all over across my nose and forehead. "Don't… Don't look, Karen…"
Bile rose up my throat as a violent sob ripped through my whole entire body, and I let it. Just that one though. Maybe it could pass off as a cough or a shudder or something. "Where's… Where's Kenny, Kar? Have you guys finished packing yet?"
I heard the stairs creak and waited for the sound of the door, and maybe those kids screaming for help or the police or something, screaming that their big brother was a murderer.
But none came. Instead, a small hand was placed gently on my shoulder, startling me and making the knife fall out of my shaking hands. I glanced behind my shoulder and little Ken was there, looking me in the eyes probably only because he didn't want to look anywhere else. I didn't care. I was just glad that I could do this one small thing for them.
I got up with difficulty, and stumbled over to the old rickety stairs. Kenny helped me get to my room, which was not that far, fortunately, thanks to how small our house actually was. I collapsed on my ass on the bed and put my head on my palms, running the blood all over my hair.
With a sigh, I got up and started to look under the bed, wincing every time I accidentally shifted my body too much. Yup, definitely something wrong with my insides.
"Kenny," I started, biting my lower lip nervously. He answered with a quiet, muffled, "Yeah?"
"Where's Karen?"
I finally found it, the little box that I always opened with much care every night before I went to sleep and checked on every morning before I start whatever it was I was going to do that day. I lifted myself off the floor and sat back on the bed with a grunt. Jesus Christ it was getting harder to move now.
"In her room Kevin."
I nodded and stood, and so did he. I was still a few inches taller than him, but I ignored that. I opened the shoebox that I had in my arms and offered the contents to him.
"Take care of her for me, would you?"
Kenny was silent, his eyes wide and bemused. I swallowed thickly and tried for a smile. A crooked one.
"I know it's not much. A few hundred dollars at most but hey, it's something," I chuckled, but the laugh ended up dying in my throat as I winced from the pain in my ribs. "Take it, and be wise with it, alright? Use it to take care of you and your sister."
Kenny seemed to snap out of his trance as I said that last part. "W-wait a minute here," he cut in. "What about you?"
My small smile widened, and I turned my eyes downcast. "You guys would be better off without me," I confessed. "And you know that, Kenny. You're a smart kid. I was just gonna be dead weight anyways, and more trouble than I'm worth."
"No," Kenny shook his head rapidly. "No, no, no nononono. You cannot leave us like this Kevin! You can't – What are we going to do?"
"That's what I would've asked you, Kenny," I shook my head slowly, and forgot about the mess in my upper abdomen for a while to laugh quietly, which resulted in me coughing up a shit ton of blood on my bedsheets. "Sorry about –" I swallowed hoarsely. My throat felt like it was on fire. "that.
"Crash at one of your friends' houses for a while Ken," I suggested, breathing heavily. I shoved the money into the mostly empty duffle bag he had on his side and patted his head, taking care to wipe the wet blood off on my own soaked clothes before touching his bright blonde hair, which was exposed since he had his hood down around his shoulders. "Go now, before one of our beloved neighbors gets interested enough to call the police over. Again."
I turned Kenny around and lead him out my bedroom door, and watched him get to the opposite door to his room to retrieve our little sister. I closed the door and hid behind it as Karen poked her head out. I am a coward, I know.
I watched and listened as Kenny told her to close her eyes while they walked through the living room. She asked where they were going and what was happening next, and he didn't really have an answer. I had a selfish burst of disappointing acceptance when I didn't hear her ask where I was.
I closed the door completely behind me and walked, well, more like limped now, to the window, where I saw them go and walk away from this god-forsaken building. Hopefully, for good.
They'll be alright, I thought with a sigh, plopping down on my bed. The blood on me was beginning to dry and crust over now, which was pretty fucking disgusting and uncomfortable. I reached over and emptied my desk pencil cup and digged around for my lighter.
My eyes were drooping and my vision kept on blacking out. All of this was nearly through with.
I took a good, long look at our parents' bodies on the way to my destination, which seemed so far away now. The whole house reeked of blood and gore. I closed my eyes and shuddered. I did this for them. It all for them and their futures. They would be alright soon. Maybe not right now, but they would be in the long run. This is good for them.
I always knew that I never was the big brother Kenny and Karen needed. I wasn't a leader, or a rolemodel, or a protector of any sort. Those two kids, they deserved better. A better life, with no horrible parents or useless older brothers to drag them down. That's why… this is like my payoff, for them.
Or maybe I'm just being selfish.
Before I knew it, I was standing just in front of what I came down here for. I slid down the kitchen sink to sit next to the two small gas tanks. They should be enough. Not to cause a giant explosion, but enough to start a fire.
I flicked open the lighter.
Goodbye ya brats. And good luck.
XXX
Tell me what you think! Reviews are much appreciated. Flames will be used to cook breakfast for the remaining two McCormick children.
