Or as I like to call it "Shit gets complicated." XD
Shitty description, please bear with me. XD
Hey guys! I'm back with the sequel! I have a LOT planned for this, and I've decided to try a new format to make it a bit less complicated with the p.o.v changes.
3 songs in one chapter! I think that's a new record. XD
...So. Much. Planned. s_s
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this as much as I'm going to, and hopefully as much as the first one! Thank you for those who are continuing to read, and to those who have newly discovered this!
If anyone has any music suggestions that aren't screamo and they think fit the story/mood, please for the love of god, tell me! I'm always searching for new music. Always.
On another note, my birthday was last Thursday. I'm 20 years old now. s_s Then again, I don't feel any older since I've felt 20 for the past year. XD
Lyrics in fic:
Billionaire boys-
Super ok
Sum 41-
No solution
The Offspring-
Gone away
Music:
Bush-
Little things
The chemicals between us
Linkin Park-
Castle of glass
I'll be gone
In my remains
Muse-
Time is running out
Nephew- [Danish rock, yeah! :D]
Danish way to rock
En wannabe Darth Vader
New year's morning
Police bells and church sirens
Va Fangool
Offspring-
Dirty Magic [new version]
Have you ever
Hurting as one
Slim Pickens
The Future is now
Röyksopp-
You don't have a clue [I heard this because of a comic that Preoprix over on tumblr did with Craig and Tweek in regards to Aisle 10, which I still need to read. Seriously, check out the comic if you get a chance. It fits the song so well. XD]
Vocaloid [I stumbled upon these two songs, I don't know anything about Vocaloid other than that I would happily fuck Kamui Gakupo. XD]
Secrets
Venomania no Ouyake no Kyouki
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Kevin
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Woke up this morning falling off the wrong side of the bed
I reached for my lighter and I lit my first cigarette
Stumbled down the stairs
I was looking for my cellular phone
To call my baby
But my baby well she's never at home
She's always bitchin' and I'm better off just being alone
But that's okay
There comes a time when we all reap what we sow….
Six months. It had been six agonizing months since Kenny had died, and yet Kevin was still holding on to the useless hope that he would come back like always. That he'd stumble tiredly from his room and demand that his brother make him breakfast because, according to him, dying and coming back meant he woke up famished.
But there was nothing.
A few days after Kenny had died, Kevin moved from his parent's destroyed house, not even bothering to tell them their house was gone. Those fuckers didn't deserve it. He knew they wouldn't care that Kenny was dead, or that he'd moved out. Fuck them. Let them come home from wherever the fuck they were now to find that hey have no home. Kevin looked around his apartment, unwillingly reflecting on the events that had brought him here.
After he had gathered enough wits to venture outside of Kenny's room, he'd gone to the living room to see the rest of the group gathered there, a pregnant, morose silence hung heavy in the air. They all looked up as Kevin shuffled into the room, their faces mostly masks of pain to a lesser extent of what Kevin felt, but underneath that was almost a wince or a grimace of profound sympathy for a pain they knew theirs could never match. Christophe stood and crossed to him.
"The bodies are gone. They must 'ave disappeared with zat ass'ole." He supplied in a soft voice. Kevin only had the energy to nod. "Since your 'ouse was destroyed and I failed 'im, you may come live with me and my roomate."
Kevin shook his head. "No…" he croaked out, finally lifting his stinging, puffy, red eyes to Christophe's. "I need to be alone. I can't deal with this if I'm living with someone else." Christophe nodded in understanding.
"Then…please allow us to 'elp you find a place. It doesn't make up for anything, but eet's the least I can do." Kevin was about to reject his offer, but a flicker of movement caught his eye. He turned his head to Cartman, sitting on the arm of the crushed couch, arms crossed, face as impassive as always. He shook his head once, a very miniscule and almost undetectable movement, but an evocative one nonetheless. Even Cartman understood the gravity of Christophe offering help out of pure sympathy, instead of money. Kevin thought for a moment, then nodded.
"Thank you."
In the following months, Kevin allowed Christophe to find him a suitable apartment, they had a burial and funeral progression for Anette, at which Jacky was shockingly reserved and stared expressionlessly at the place they had buried her. Christophe wore a similar expression, though his hands shook as he covered her body over with earth. Since there was no body to bury in Kenny's case, a sort of vigil was held. A surprising amount of people showed up to express their condolences, and Kevin had barely held it together throughout the whole thing. Not long after the vigil, Kevin's girlfriend decided that she didn't want to stick around to "fix her broken boyfriend" and had left him.
Kevin had never felt more alone than he did now.
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Kenny
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Maybe nothing else will never be so clear
Maybe that's only my fear
If just for one day, I wish I could disappear
Just take me far from here
Maybe I'd find out nothing new
Maybe I'd end up just like you
There's no solution
Give me truth to my conviction….
"DAMIEN!" Kenny burst through the hellspawn's bedroom door, not caring to knock or express any other courtesy. The boy in question was lounging on his bed, playing an undoubtedly violent video game. He looked over at Kenny as he continued playing, and raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"I need to see my brother!" He demanded angrily, stalking to the side of Damien's bed and crossing his arms. "It's been six months. Send me back."
Damien snorted derisively and returned his attention fully to his game. "You know I can't do that Kenny."
"Bullshit! You just don't want to send your precious fuck toy back." Damien chuckled. That horrible, rusty chuckle that might be sexy if it didn't send chills down Kenny's back.
"That's true. But I really can't. You're dead for good this time." Incensed, Kenny grabbed Damien by the collar of his shirt and wrenched him toward him, then angrily punched him. Damien's head whipped sharply to the side, and when he turned it back slowly, eyes narrowed in disdain, blood was dripping from his nose. Damien wiped the blood away with the back of his hand, continuing to glare at Kenny.
"You're going to regret that." He said lowly. Before Kenny had time to do much more then widen his eyes in realization, Damien caught him around the throat and threw him with such force against the wall that Kenny felt his skull crack. He slid down the wall halfway before Damien was on him, hand weighing on his throat, forcing him back against the brick surface, slowly pushing him up it, triggering excruciating pain against his battered skull. He stopped when Kenny's feet were dangling a few inches from the ground and Kenny was grasping desperately at Damien's fingers, trying to pry them from his throat.
"Gh-fuck! Damien!" Kenny managed to choke out, pained tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
"Apologize." Damien said through gritted teeth, leaning in closer to Kenny's face. Kenny continued desperately trying to draw in breaths. This was too reminiscent of how he'd most recently died, and it renewed his sense of fear impossibly.
"Please-! Damien!" He managed, uncaring that he sounded weak.
"Say it!" Damien growled, pushing harder on Kenny's windpipe. Kenny wheezed painfully.
"Fuck-! I'm sorry-!"
"What else?" Damien growled again, waiting for the thing he knew Kenny despised more than anything. Moreso even, then groveling and pleading for his life, such as it was. Kenny's lip curled up a little through the pain, expressing his disgust.
"I- love you-" He choked out quietly. Damien smirked satisfactorily and released Kenny, letting him fall limply to the ground where he choked and coughed, hand on his abused throat. Damien walked back to his bed, picking up his controller and resuming his game, obviously brushing Kenny off. Kenny was irate, but he really didn't want to be choked again so soon, or worse, so he shakily got up and stumbled his way out, slamming Damien's door as hard as he could.
Hell….was an interesting place. Contrary to popular belief, hell wasn't all "fire and brimstone." Oh sure, it was horrible, but not in the same visual representation that seemed to be unanimously agreed upon in most religious views. It was almost like being on earth, only unbearably hot. The only difference was that there were no homes, only apartments that were a stark white against the red heat engulfing the entirety of the place. There was stuff to do; video games, t.v, the occasional fair, drinking, bars….pretty much anything you did on earth, you could do in hell. In fact, all the fun stuff was in hell. All the vices, all the things that were considered bad pretty much resided in hell. Then what was so bad about it? Part of it was the people.
Whatever they did in life to get them there, most people did in death. Many even picked up new things to try. Sex and murder literally plagued the streets. You couldn't go anywhere without having to step over or around someone being raped or stabbed or shot. The most gruesome, unthinkable acts had long since become commonplace to Kenny. He'd even been caught up in a few himself before he learned how to fight them off. Being involved with Damien definitely didn't hurt his chances, either. It was strange how these people without morals, some growing up not knowing the difference between right and wrong, deeply feared Damien and his father. Plus the multitude of illegitimate children Satan had that Damien refused to claim as his siblings, claiming he was the only "pure" one, meaning the only true heir.
All this was horrible in itself, but easily adjusted to. No, the thing that made hell truly a literal nightmare was the fact that whatever insecurities you had in the living world, whatever personality and mental disorders and phobias plagued you, [satan was particularly fond of people harboring schizophrenia, agoraphobia, dissociative identity disorder, and chronic depression or extreme anxiety] would be ever present in your home, the people you interacted with. You would frequently find yourself thinking or being reminded of what beleaguered you the most, and you would be trapped inside your own head, unable to escape, with those horrible thoughts and memories swimming around inside. Your assigned apartment generally reflected that, in the décor, in the shows on the tv, in the video games provided to you. And worst of all, the things you missed the most were permanently displayed somewhere in your "home" to remind you day after day what you've tragically left behind, and in most cases, committed a crime against. If you were alive, you'd have committed suicide a long time ago under these relentless circumstances, but as it was, suicide was impossible. Even those who were "murdered" only came back seconds later, usually to be killed again. It was a horrible and vicious cycle that no one could escape. Unless of course, you got killed personally by Satan.
The last thing that made this place absolutely horrible was that a sort of monarchial hierarchy had been established there, humans being at the bottom of the food chain, naturally. Low grade demons were next, then slightly higher [the kind that could influence behavior or thought in others] then the ones that had free will of their own but served under one of the princes of hell, and then there were the princes themselves directly under Damien, Satan and his other children. The ones that served under the princes were the worst in Kenny's opinion. Even worse than Damien and his "siblings." These demons, affectionately dubbed the Tortoribus were basically like teenagers without parents. They did what they want, when they wanted and to whomever they fancied. They would torture you until you tried to commit suicide, then wait for you to come back and rape you, they would transform into loved ones and force you to perform unspeakable acts on them, or perhaps worse, commit unspeakable acts on you.
They were generally influenced by the princes, though not disciplined. The well known princes were the only part of Hell's history that Kenny was interested in. The other six "princes" were Satan's siblings. All of the seven "princes" had brutally vied for the throne, and Satan had won out. As punishment to the others, he demoted them ,as it were, to being his assistants and advisors to the throne, and stripped them of most of their powers. They were now forced to serve Satan and Damien in any way they pleased, and they hated the two with a passion. Kenny had heard through the grapevine that for years, the other six had been plotting to overthrow the throne, but hadn't found a way to do it yet without being killed.
Being killed by Satan or Damien in hell was a fate worse than being sent to hell itself. You were doomed to wonder in a dark, lifeless parallel, hunted and tortured by the things you feared most. Even if you thought you feared nothing, you can be sure your fears would be found and exploited there. You could never escape it, never outrun it. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, no help to be found. Your wraithlike body would constantly go through every form of horrifying death imaginable. You would die again and again, yet still be conscious. Everything would be felt, experienced.
Kenny shivered a bit at the thought as he stepped around a man robbing and brutally hacking a woman to pieces, heading toward the river Styx, which was his usual hang out place when he wasn't back at his place. The river came into view, as did a familiar and surprisingly welcomed face.
"Hey, Kael." Kenny said, approaching the white haired figure sitting on the riverbank. The other boy's head perked up as he heard Kenny's voice.
"Kenny?" He asked, face turned slightly to the left of where Kenny was. Kenny smiled and sat next to him, Kale's head turning where he heard dry grass crunch beneath him.
"Wha' are ya doin' here? Ah though' ye'd be with Demien." Kael asked, face turned to where he was now sure Kenny was. Kenny didn't know why, but he loved Kael's Scottish accent. Maybe it was just the fact that he had a cool accent.
"I was. It didn't go well." He replied, facing forward, voice still a little hoarse. Kael's face scrunched up in concern.
"Wha' happened? Ye soond harse. Did he attack ye agin?" Kenny let a smile creep into his voice to try and placate Kael. Kael's visible brow furrowed and he felt for Kenny's face, forcing him to look at him. Kenny kept still as he took in the familiar messy white hair that thinned as it reached the nape of his neck, the tips of it and the partly sideswept bangs still tinged blonde, his original color. A few strands of his bangs fell over the bloodied gauze that had been placed over his mangled eyes at his funeral. Some had been placed on his ravaged neck as well, but Kael had long since disposed of that, leaving the thin scars on his neck visible. The only reason he hadn't taken the gauze from his eyes was because Damien had forbidden it. He was ironically disgusted by the gruesome sight that lay underneath. Kael had died before Kenny, so Kenny had no idea what Kael's eyes looked like beneath the gauze, though in the many stories he used to tell Kenny when he was still a scared little boy on one of his many visits to hell, he'd told Kenny that they'd once been a clear, spring green.
As with most people, [the ones who'd gotten funerals, anyway] Kael had opted to remain in the clothes he'd died in, rather than the dressed up, churchy shit they put him in for his funeral. Even though it unbelievably hot, Kael still wore his hoodie, the body of which was white, while the ripped and barely there sleeves and hood were light blue. He wore it open, revealing his light gray, beat to shit FOREIGNER shirt that had a rip in the center of the chest that Kenny suspected corresponded directly with the scars on his neck, though Kael had never told him as much. His jeans were faded, stained and torn, as were his white high top converse.
"…..Did he strangle ya agin?" Came the knowing question. Kenny sighed, pulling his knees up and dangling is arms over them at the elbows.
"Yeah. Fucker still won't let me see my brother." Kenny supplied bitterly. If he wouldn't send him back, Kenny at least wished Damien would send him back as a shade or something so he could at least communicate with and reassure his brother. Kael growled a bit in empathetic frustration, then turned his face away.
"Ah'm sorreh, Kenny." Kenny murmured a "thanks" before turning his own face forward. A comfortable silence passed between them as each became lost in their own thoughts, the only thing intruding on it being the ever present screams of the lost souls trapped around them.
"Well, if it isn't Kenny and his little mentor. Tell me, have you two fucked yet?" A familiar deep, rusty voice said behind them.
"Fuck." Kenny muttered under his breath as Kael visibly stiffened. Kenny felt an arm go around him, and with it came the familiar chills down his spine and the all encompassing fear sparked by a power that was inhuman and was tightly bound, like a coiled spring. He squelched the fear with a practiced ease that came only with years of having to suffer with this asshole. "What do you want, Lucifer?"
"What? I can't come talk to my nephew's favorite playmate and his keeper without having an ulterior motive?" Kenny inwardly recoiled. Lucifer's voice had the lilting quality of barbed wire grating on a sidewalk and was as strangely sexy as it was cringe-worthy. Being the youngest of the six "outcasted" brothers, Lucifer appeared physically to be 23, not much older than Kenny and Kael. The eyes that he had focused sinisterly on Kenny were a blood red with flecks of silver that slowly rotated counterclockwise, exactly between his pupil and iris. They were disconcerting, and yet strange in their beauty.
He was tall, at about 6' 3", 6' 4", taller than both Kenny and Kael. His bangs, black but for a chunk in the middle and on either side framing his face that housed a fire theme of red that faded to orange and finally yellow at the end tips, were sideswept, disappearing into the feathered spikes that were effortlessly styled throughout and had the same fire motif spread sporadically within the tresses. The back feathered out in large chunks before it thinned, ending in razored pieces that grazed his collarbone.
His very subtly pointed ears had a multitude of small loops in the cartilage, and in his right ear was black guage with a silver half ring on it. Attatched to that was a thin chain that ran under his ear and reconnected at the slightly smaller but identical back piece of the guage. He had two rings lining the outer ridges of his bottom lip, and another small one on the outside of his right nostril.
He seemed to be wearing his favorite clothes; a high collared jacket with an asymmetrical zipper than started at his throat to the left and went down at a vertical slant, ending at his waistline on the right side, leaving the ends of the fabric to fall open from the end of the zipper, allowing a slit a few inches long and wide enough to show a good portion of the silver embellished pocket of his dark, almost black, tight jeans that were unceremoniously tucked into his black combat boots that were untied, but tight enough at the bottom to keep them on.
The jacket cut off at the shoulder, almost like a wide-set tank, and revealed a portion of a red and black striped shirt that must have been attached to the inside of the jacket, for it disappeared into the other half of the cutoff black sleeve of the jacket that had been sewn onto the red one and fell like a oversized sleeve of a t-shirt. The front of the closed jacket also had three long, detachable chains connected just under the collarbone, at the chest, and at the ribcage that hung across the front, to be linked at the other side. On his arms were black mesh fingerless gloves that reached almost to his elbows and were adorned with more short chains.
"Not without trying to fuck me or torture me." Kenny replied dryly. Lucifer chuckled almost mockingly.
"What can I say?" He placed a cold finger under Kenny's chin, forcing him to look at him as he grinned in a way that sent cold chills down Kenny's spine, eyes narrowed almost lasciviously. "You're so fuckable."
Kenny smacked his hand away and leveled an irritated glare at him, to which Lucifer only laughed. "What the fuck do you want, Lucifer?"
"Don't get so testy, boy. I am a prince." Although his tone remained teasing, it held a warning. Kenny just rolled his eyes, waiting for Lucifer to tell him why he was there or get the fuck away from them. The grin that had waned return full force, bringing to mind a child about to tell what he viewed as a huge secret.
"You know, I got a way you can see your brother. But you gotta do somethin' for me first." Kenny's eyes narrowed at him and Kael looked a bit worried. Surely this was a trick. He'd already pleaded with Damien numerous times to let him see his brother, and he'd told him there was no way. Besides, why would Lucifer help him?
"Bullshit." Kenny stated. Lucifer only grinned wider and shrugged his shoulders passively.
"Fine, don't believe me." He made an oval in the air with his finger in front of Kenny. It blazed with fire for a second before the fire gave way to a mirrored portal. Kenny's eyes widened as the image of his brother came into view, eating breakfast despondently at a small table in a room he didn't recognize. Kevin looked like shit with his dirty, tousled hair, crumpled clothes that clearly hadn't been washed in at least a week, and a few weeks worth of beard growth plaguing his jaw. He also looked like he'd lost a substantial amount of weight, which wasn't good considering he didn't have a whole lot of meat on him to begin with. "Let your poor brother suffer and mourn." He offered in what would have been a sympathetic coo if not for the heavy underlying glee and condescension.
Kenny almost reached out to touch the mirror portal, desperate to see his brother again, or at least consol him. To tell him that while he might not be okay, that he was trapped in his own hell, that he was still there. He wanted to go back so desperately But he also wasn't stupid.
"You're lying." Lucifer's grin widened impossibly.
"I'm not. Just ask your little mentor. He knows." There was a sly undertone to his voice that Kenny wasn't sure he liked. But he turned to Kael, who was already shaking his head.
"Kael-"
"No, no, no, no!" Kael cut him off. "I will na' doo et!" Kenny pierced him with an indignant glare that he was sure Kael could sense.
"You knew there was a way to see him and you didn't tell me!" The hurt in Kenny's voice was palpable, even as he tried to squelch it.
"Kenny, please, wha' he's talkin' aboot...it isn't enathin' you evar want to do. It's unemagenable." The pleading tone made Kenny pause for a moment. In all the years he'd known Kael, he'd never heard him plead.
But it wasn't enough to stop him. He had to see his brother.
"...What do you want for it?" Lucifer's grin turned shit-eating as he snapped his fingers and the portal closed, flames rising from the bottom and fizzling out at the top. He then rose from his crouch and stood, Kenny following suit.
Kenny didn't miss the despairing look on Kael's face, but right now he didn't really care. He felt more than a little betrayed that someone who had mentored him and consoled him since his first unwilling trips here as a child, someone who he considered a very close friend, had withheld from him something he knew Kenny wanted desperately and would do anything to obtain.
"Kenny, please...doon't..." Lucifer led the way from the river and Kenny followed, ignoring Kael's plea's.
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Kevin
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Kevin sat at his kitchen table, attempting to eat a breakfast that didn't appeal to him in the least. He didn't want to eat. He didn't want to continue living his pointless live. He didn't want people to come talk to him, to express their condolences. He just wanted to be left the fuck alone. But more then that, he wanted his brother back. He heard a knock on the door and sighed.
Luck was not on his side today.
He grudgingly went to open the door, wanting to just scream at them to fuck off and leave him alone. When he opened it, Cartman was standing at the door, arms crossed as if he didn't want to be there as much as Kevin didn't want him there.
"You look like shit." He announced as soon as Kevin had the door open.
"...You come here just to tell me that?" Kevin replied, just managing to keep the irritated edge in his voice to a minimum.
"You know what I came here for. Change your shit and let's go." Cartman indicated Kevin's dirty clothes, his entire being stating that he'd rather be anywhere but there.
"...I don't want to go." Kevin replied tiredly. Cartman snorted.
"You never want to go. And you know they don't give a shit. Change your shit before I pick your skinny ass up and drag you." Kevin glared at him before shutting the door, grumbling as he made his way to his room to change. About two weeks after Kenny had died and Kevin had virtually stopped eating, Christophe had stopped by with Gregory to see how the apartment was holding up, and had found him in such a state that he'd immediately demanded Kevin eat. When he'd refused, Christophe literally dragged him to Gregory's car, took him to a restaurant and forced him to eat. Since then, he'd enlisted Kenny's friends to help them force Kevin out of the apartment twice a week. The only reason he could fathom why Christophe cared so much was because he felt uncharacteristically guilty that a customer had died, especially by the hand of someone he wanted dead himself and could wholly understand Kenny's hatred and fear of.
After he dressed, not bothering to comb his hair or do any sort of primping, he grabbed his keys and opened the door to join the now annoyed Cartman, his tightly clenched jaw the only indication of it. The taller boy silently led him down the hall of the apartments and to the staircase leading outside. Kevin mildly wondered how he could see so well with the dark sunglasses he'd donned while Kevin had been changing. He really didn't care that much though. The one thing he was grateful for, however, was the fact that Cartman didn't generally talk much to him. He wasn't in the mood for talking, and he was too irritated to want to participate in any small talk.
They walked down the stairs and headed toward Cartman's truck. Apparently, they were meeting the other two there. Fantastic. They both grudgingly got in and Cartman started the car. As if someone was playing a cruel joke on him, Gone Away from the Offspring immediately blared from the radio.
Maybe in another life
I could find you there
Pulled away before your time
I can't deal it's
So unfair
And it feels
And it feels like
Heaven's so far away
And it feels
And it feels like
The world has grown cold
Now that you've gone away
His emotions welling up inside him when he thought he'd become numb, Kevin had to fight to keep the tears back as this song described exactly his feelings about what had happened to his brother. Cartman peeled out, obviously oblivious as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel in time to he base.
Leaving flowers on your grave
Show that I still care
But black roses and Hail Mary's
Can't bring back what's taken from me
I reach to the sky
And call out your name
And if I could trade I would
And it feels
And it feels like
Heaven's so far away
And it stings
Yeah it stings now
The world is so cold
Now that you've gone away...
"Can you turn this shit off, please!" Kevin shouted through clenched teeth, eyes closed as he fought to keep the tears back. Cartman looked over, and in a surprisingly non-asshole move, turned the radio off. Kevin drew in deep, ragged breaths as he tried to calm himself. Apart from that, the rest of the ride was silent until Cartman pulled up to the restaurant they were meeting Christophe at. Unfortunately for Kevin, it was a moderately priced Italian restaurant, which meant it was bustling with people. Kevin would have much preferred one of the fancier restaurants Christophe sometimes took him to, because he was usually considerate and reserved a private room. There would be no private rooms here.
Christophe and Gregory weren't there yet, so they allowed the waiter to seat them and give them menus while they waited, Cartman grunting in impatient dissatisfaction that the other two hadn't arrived yet. They'd been there but five minutes when a waiter came up to them and introduced himself. Kevin didn't care to remember his name. What was the point?
"Do you know what you want yet?" The waiter asked in a well practiced cheery tone.
Yeah. I want my brother back.