A/N: Hi! I bring you all a new fic, a bit different from Sour Patch Kids.

As you could read in the summary, this will be a KennyxWendy dark fic. I had this idea playing in my mind for weeks now, and I had to write it. It will be much darker than the other one, so please read the tags. This work will contain triggering themes. I'm currently writing chapter five, so I may add more tags; it's also possible this work will be longer than Sour Patch Kids. This fic will rotate between Kenny and Wendy's POV.

I have another Candy fic idea, but I'll write more chapters of Angel Boy before I write anything else to prevent any burnout. I don't yet have a schedule for this fic, updates will be more sporadic, but so far, I'll stick to one update per week. If everything goes well, I may start posting bi-weekly, but it's not a promise; I need to know first how long this will take. I hope work and life will let me finish this soon! I'm pretty excited about this. There are almost zero to no fics about this ship, so I hope my contribution will make a difference. Talk about an underrated ship lol

Without further ado, please enjoy!

South Park's downtown wasn't the nicest or safest part of town. It was the quickest to reach the entrance of abandoned SoDoSoPa and into his house, true, but at night, downtown was hell. With the new mafia in town, it was common knowledge Sergeant Yates had accepted an awful amount of cash to let them freely roam around. For people like Kenny, it meant every day was H-hour. If he wanted to go out at night, that is. Which was every fucking night.

There was an underground party going on a few buildings from his house, one of the jocks, Clyde, planned it, and while Kenny loved any opportunity to get hammered, he didn't want to leave Karen alone. The party was close enough to his house to become dangerous ground, and Karen was still gullible enough to open the door to anyone.

Kenny ground his teeth as he staggered through the alleys. The cold air of October made his teeth shatter and his fingers prick. He was steadying himself with the frozen brick walls with one hand while the other was clutching his bloodied abdomen. Tonight wasn't a lucky one, but he knew it was easier than going to the hospital. This way, he wouldn't scar for life. Soon, he'd lose consciousness and find himself on his bed, safe.

As he reached SoDoSoPa's premises, he could faintly hear the music from Clyde's party. He thought about joining in and stealing a beer or two, but he didn't know how much longer he had and didn't want to create a scene. He was a few buildings away from his house when he heard voices. Trying not to groan from the pain, he silently continued limping and hoped he would bypass the people easily.

"S-Stop it, Stan!"

Kenny's ears picked at the voice. It was Wendy's. Against his better judgment, Kenny turned in the opposite direction of his house and tried to reach the sound. He had only a few more minutes until everything turned black, but Kenny couldn't ignore the sound. He knew Stan could get too drunk sometimes, but he was never pushy with Wendy, at least not that Kenny had seen. If Stan was pushy, it was always with Kyle.

But Kenny wasn't prepared for what he saw. Wendy looked far from being in pain, and while she seemed to be pushing Stan away, she was pulling and kissing him at the same time.

Oh.

Kenny was disappointed, if he was honest; some small, repressed part of him wanted it to be the opposite of what was happening. Part of him wanted to be the hero, rescuing his damsel in distress.

A sharp pain made Kenny return to reality, and he realized Wendy had spotted him. Dammit. He thought he had hidden well; it was his specialty, but being stabbed multiple times in the abdomen made him lose his accuracy. Kenny tried to feign ignorance and tried to continue walking.

"W-wait!" She exclaimed, and he stopped in his tracks. He sharply turned his head and, suppressing a pant, saw she was looking straight at him. Stan was oblivious to it - with his back turned to Kenny, he sloppily kissed her neck. If Kenny knew any better, it didn't seem Wendy enjoyed it. Not in the least.

It was dark enough for her to see Kenny was bleeding to death, but she recognized him. She eased herself from Stan's grasp, just enough for Kenny to see her body, and she locked eyes with him. What the hell is she..? Kenny wondered, and his eyes went wide as plates as he saw how she lifted her skirt, her blue dotted panties visible, and put one of Stan's hand's inside them. She had a manic smile, and Kenny was frozen in place as he saw how Stan began rubbing her.

Kenny blinked a few times, incredulous at what he was seeing. He didn't know if what he was seeing was really happening or if it was just a delusion of his brain on the brink of shutting down. It didn't seem Stan knew what was happening, and by the looks of it, he wasn't doing the best job pleasuring her. On the other hand, Wendy had a lustful stare as her brown eyes pierced Kenny's icy blue ones. It didn't seem she cared much about Stan, she moaned and laughed, but it could've been anyone fingering her. Wendy had her eyes set on Kenny alone.

It was fucking hot, in Kenny's opinion. Little miss perfect, prim and rich bitch who excelled at everything and always lived in her ivory tower, being naughty. Kenny didn't know she had this dark side to her. Fuck, Kenny mentally cursed as his attraction for the girl grew. He could feel his hard-on pressing against his cheap jeans, but as much as he wanted to just smack Stan out of Wendy's grasp and fuck her right there and then, he just stood there, watching as one of his best friends drunkenly fingered his girlfriend publicly. Kenny was panting, his breath hard, and his vision became blurry. He was feeling hot and carnal; for a moment, he almost forgot he was dying.

Wendy began moaning, her gaze still glued to Kenny's, and as Stan began rubbing faster, bastard probably thinking he was doing something right, Wendy's eyes were only for Kenny. She was putting on a show for him, and he knew she was probably drunk or drugged, but he didn't care. He appreciated every bit of attention thrown at him, no matter how it was given.

Wendy's breath hitched as Kenny gave her a sly smile, and she cried in release. Kenny began having black spots in his vision before it all went dark. He had run out of time.

It was the most delicious death he's had until now.

Six months later

Kenny slumped on his chair and let his worn-out school bag fall beside him. He hated school. Everyone had a grim look, and Cartman's jokes about Kyle's mom were not enough to make Kenny laugh. No one was in the mood nowadays.

The death of Pip Pirrip six months ago had stirred the whole school of South Park. The entire town, more likely. Kenny lamented he couldn't be there to stop it; it'd happened on the night of Clyde's party, and given he died too that night, he couldn't see who'd done it. Kenny was also resentful; everyone mourned Pip, and while he had died countless times before him, only the fat-ass and his family remembered. Kenny sighed. He was accustomed to it by now and was, in a way, glad no one remembered. He was afraid that no one except Karen would grieve him.

Pip wasn't the most liked person in the school, though; he was heavily bullied for his accent, and in this racist, small town, not even the teachers cared about it. So it wasn't that he had that many friends. Kenny didn't know if it was fate or just plain bad luck, but he heard it was the first party Pip was invited to. The sucker's first high school party and it only ended up in him getting murdered.

The police questioned everyone that week. Most of the people at the party, his friends included, fled the scene when it happened, fearing they might get into trouble for the amount of alcohol and drugs present. The ones questioned naturally couldn't remember well what happened, which hindered the detectives' job. Not that they would take out anything from it; as corrupted as they were, the police probably guessed it was a petty thief or related to the mafia and quickly dropped the case. The parents were furious, demanding how it could've been possible no one was arrested. Kenny was questioned, given his house was only a block from the crime scene. They wanted someone easy to blame, and Kenny's white trash of a family was the perfect scapegoat.

He quickly managed to get out from it without becoming suspect; Karen gave them his alibi, stating he was in his room all night, and it was not possible he could've been responsible. He was forever thankful to her. She'd given him the side-eye, not for thinking he was the one who did it, but she knew he went out and failed at making it back without dying.

Pip may not have been the most liked person at school, but his murder only caused panic and a wave of mistrust in the small community. No one was in the mood to go out anymore for months; if they did, they kept it small. Of course, there were still a few morons, like Clyde and the other jocks, who still partied hard, whereas almost all of the school body lived with fear. As months passed, the fear mellowed down, but caution still prevailed.

It wasn't all horrible in Kenny's mind. Not that he'd tell anyone about it, though. He held a quiet yet avid delight by one of the outcomes Pip's demise brought. It was a secret he'll most surely carry onto his ultimate grave. Stan had bags under his eyes, and Kenny could see Kyle's futile attempts at cheering him up. He could see the bitterness in those green eyes, the dying battle under his stare whenever Stan talked about her. It was sad, really, the redhead was head over heels for Stan, but he was too busy moping about his breakup with Wendy.

Oh, Wendy. After Pip's death, Stan told Kenny she was too distraught, too ashamed of how they acted that night, and could no longer be with him. That being, getting hammered to the point they had to make an exit before the cops could arrive quickly. It didn't appear Stan remembered what they did in the alley when Kenny watched over them with hawkeyes. And if he did, he refrained from telling Kenny.

On the other hand, Wendy acted as usual with Kenny. It was disconcerting, to say the least. Kenny thought he'd imagined it all at one point, and it was only a delusion of his, a sick fantasy before dying where Wendy was also attracted to him. Even for a tiny bit.

But one night after rehearsal, months after the night in the alley and right before she broke up with Stan, she kissed him in the corner of the mouth when she hugged him goodbye. She'd innocently said, "Oops! My bad, Ken." And then went her way with Stan. It could've happened to anyone, and to the eyes of most, it was a harmless mistake. But Kenny saw her mischievous eyes, her smile inches away from being a smirk, and Kenny then knew what happened in the alley was real .

Not that it changed anything. Wendy still acted as a goody-two-shoes with her perfect grades and chaste attire. Kenny didn't see her much except when Stan invited her for rehearsals or when they played in bars. It fed his friend's neurotic masochism when Stan told him they decided to remain friends. Kenny was privately pleased about it.

Over the weeks, it was painfully evident to Kenny that she knew he was attracted to her, and he didn't know if the woman was a witch or psychic. He didn't know how to act around her anymore, but Kenny tried to remain neutral.

He thought he'd hidden it well. Kenny was a pervert and, to the eyes of many, a womanizer. Although he could say the pervert part was correct, he didn't know from where he got the denomination womanizer. It was true that Kenny used to date older girls back in elementary and middle school, but he's had far fewer sexual experiences than many in his generation. Kenny wished he was a womanizer, but as he grew, Kenny became far less interested in girls and more concerned about his personal and familiar situation.

He didn't know when it'd started, but since junior year, Kenny became disturbingly and uncomfortably aware that he had somehow developed a crush on Wendy Testaburger. As far as he knew, it was a small crush; he thought she was pretty, intelligent, clean, and most importantly, didn't judge him for being poor. The bar's too low, Ken, was his constant thought when his heart beat faster whenever she was nice to him. Kenny blamed his crush on her being the only girl who usually hung around with them.

But Kenny kept it quiet, a secret. He felt ashamed of his feelings; of all the girls in the school, he had to fall for his best friend's girlfriend. He wasn't expecting anything out of it either. Kenny knew it'd never happen. She was far from his league, and they were young; it'd be easy to find love elsewhere when they graduated. But they were also old enough for the memory to inevitably become a depressing, cynical thought of the one who got away.

Kenny tried not to look at her way much, speak to her more often than necessary, and never gave any hints he might care for her as more than a friend. Of course, he still teased her and bantered with her. After all, they had been friends since they were kids, so it'd also be weird if he suddenly stopped.

But now, she was no longer with Stan, and although Kenny wanted to make a move and tell her he did remember that ghostly night six months ago, he just kept to himself and treated her the same as before. She and Stan were no longer dating, but Stan was also one of Kenny's best friends, and it was plain and simple bro code. It didn't matter if they broke up; Wendy was still as much unreachable as before. Unless she made a move first, Kenny darkly thought.

School went as always, the apathetic and cynical professors teaching the same garbage to bleak, pessimist students. Kenny didn't aspire to go to any university any time soon, his household was a wreck, and he was afraid to leave Karen alone.

"See you at rehearsal, dude," Stan told him after classes and went to Kyle's house as usual. Kenny waved, and with a sigh, he skated back to his filthy and grisly place he called home.