(A/n: Trigger Warning: accidental suicide)

Chapter 5: Deceit And Warnings

August 11th- Kenny

Kenny detests waking up after a death. His whole body would ache like crazy, it's a pain he would feel every time he's revived. He would always have to bear with the aftermaths of his deaths without any relievers, his family is so poor that they can't even afford cheap medication. He seldom forgets the cause of his deaths, mainly because he always died from outlandish or arbitrary things. But for some reason, he can't recall his last death, and his pounding head isn't making remembering it any easier. But it doesn't matter, majority of his deaths aren't memorable anyway.

With a pained whine, Kenny weakly lifts a hand to massage his forehead, his blonde locks visible and messy, though one of the strands is a different color. He always wonders why he never stays dead. He never got around to asking God or Satan themselves for his inability to remain deceased whenever he visited their domains, surely one of them or if not both would have an answer. Kenny hates dying—it's painful, gruesome, and stupid. He recalls his best friends witnessing him losing his life back in Preschool when he first discovered that he wasn't an ordinary human. The cause of death that time was his own fault. He'd consumed a full bottle of glue, thinking it would taste like milk due to its pure white color. Plus, he was very thirsty that day. The teacher panicked, but before he could get any medical help, he choked and died. Right before all of the children's eyes. It was a very scary and confusing experience to abruptly wake up to a bright, cloudy sky, and winged beings traversing either through the air or on foot, only to realize he was in Heaven. He didn't stay there long, at least that's what it felt like at the time because the next thing he knew, he was at home in his shoddy looking bedroom, lying on his decrepit mattress. Like he is right now. Turned out he'd been dead for three days. He didn't know this until his best friends told him that day he went back to school, Stan, Kyle, and Eric were the only ones who knew he had died and remembered it. It's been a reoccurring tragedy since then, it was never constant, but it still annoyed Kenny. Mainly because Eric soon started thinking his deaths were funny. He at first thought it was both cool and freaky that Kenny could die and come back to life as if nothing happened to him, Kenny once had the same thought, and even questioned Kenny about his visits to the afterlife. But that fascination of his changed into facetiousness after his fourth or fifth death. As for Stan and Kyle, they had randomly came up with some catchphrase together after someone had killed Kenny, but he appreciated their concern nonetheless.

After awhile of soothing his head, Kenny slowly sits up and shivers. He looks down at his bare skinny arms and dirty white undershirt. "Huh?! Where's my jacket?!" He thinks in shock. This is the first time he woke up without his orange parka on his lithe frame, he always had it on him even in the afterlife. The blonde-haired boy frantically searches for his cherished jacket, it isn't anywhere on his tattered mattress or on the wooden floor. He looks to his cracked alarm clock that's located on the floor right beside his bed for the time. The red digital numbers show that it is 5:45 a.m.

Kenny isn't sure if he should trust this busted clock of his, it's rarely been right ever since he accidentally broke it one morning. So instead, he looks up at his broken window for confirmation of the time of day. The night sky is brightening ever so slowly with a tinge of orange below, meaning the sun is about to arise. He can vaguely see the stars disappearing as the sun gradually rises into view, the scattered, thick clouds unchanging. Kenny looks away sighing in disappointment, he was hoping to have been revived after school started, so he wouldn't have to go. He scratches his hair whilst standing up, heading to his bathroom and hoping to find his parka in there by chance. He lightly tugs down a string suspending from in the middle of his bathroom, the light overhead flickering rapidly for a brief moment before staying on, coating the small space in dim lighting. "I swear it's gonna go out one day," he thinks with another sigh. He climbs on top of a stool that's surprisingly in good condition, and gazes at himself through a cracked but clean mirror. His hazel eyes widen almost instantly upon first glance, and he leans a bit closer to the mirror. "What the..." A single strand of his hair is white.

Kenny twists one of the knobs on the sink with haste, but no water comes out of the faucet. He turns the other knob, and water finally pours out. He wastes no time cupping both of his hands full of the cold water, and dumps it over his head. His body shivers with goosebumps, then he opens his eyes looking back into his mirror expecting to find the white color washed off. But it was a futile attempt. His damp head hangs low, beads of the cool water dripping down into the sink. "First, my jacket, and now this?" He turns the water off, then shakes his head to rid some of the water from in his hair. Doing so causes multiple droplets of the clear liquid to fling everywhere, most of it splattering onto his mirror. Less water is trickling down from Kenny's hair now, but it's still pretty wet. He pushes his soaked bangs back, so he can look around for his parka. He gets off the stool to check his small bathtub, but as he suspected, it isn't in there. He does a thorough scan around his compacted lavatory, sadly not spotting his parka anywhere. Dread settles in the pit of his stomach. It's like the orange outer garment disappeared all of a sudden.

Kenny ambles back into his bedroom only to halt with a shiver. The crisp morning air has filled his room thanks to the broken window, as it did every morning, however his parka always shielded him from the nippy weather that entered whenever he slept. He hugs his cold arms with a frown, greatly missing the warmth his parka always provided. Not only is he freezing, but he feels naked without it. He only ever takes his parka off for two things: one is whenever he cleaned himself up every morning and/or night, and the other times are when he went to sleep. He would cover himself with it like a blanket since his family doesn't have enough of them. His parka is also his personal comfort item. Him and his family aren't able to afford and enjoy the luxuries of warm water, bars of soap, toothbrushes, toothpastes, and other necessities used for hygiene, and because of this, Kenny conceals his outward appearance from people. Even from his best friends. Eric already rags on him for being poor, and although neither Stan nor Kyle are vocal about his predicament like the fat child is, Kenny could most times tell from their faces that they were bothered by his presence. And now a lone strand of his hair is an odd color, making him feel worse about his appearance. He grips his skinny arms tighter, his still soaked bangs drooping over his eyes as he angled his head downward. "Am I...gonna have to go to school like this?" He's always been self-conscious about his body since he's constantly picked on for being born in poverty. He doesn't want to be bullied for being malnourished either. He doesn't need anyone else calling him any more names, he gets that enough from Eric. An unwelcome breeze blows into his room, the gentle wind swaying his moist hair, doing little to dry it. He whines in discomfort. "M-maybe I should just stay in the living room...Wait..." Realization hits him like a smack to the face. "I bet my jacket is in there!" A feeling of hope overcomes him at the thought, and he hurries towards his barely intact bedroom door, darkness and silence greeting him after he opens it. He tiptoes out into the hallway.

After a short trek, he comes to a halt once he spots a person's head peeking out from behind the couch. Kenny literally feels his heart sink. Only one person would be in the living room at this time. Kenny has the option of waiting in his room until the rest of his family woke up, so he could get his parka without any suspicions, but he would literally freeze to death in his room without it. Then again...he wouldn't have to feel his father's drunken wrath if the man finds him awake and out of his room. Again.

Kenny nips his bottom lip as he ponders his choices. Unfortunately, he didn't have enough time to come to a decision for the silhouette on the sofa starts moving. The male grunts and groans as if he's in pain, but Kenny knows what his father had been doing all last night, and the previous nights as well.

Even though that's the case, Kenny hasn't told his mother what the man has truly been up to almost every night. Because he can't. His mother still believes that his father works at a bar, hence he always comes home so early the next morning smelling like alcohol and cigarettes. It isn't entirely the truth. It's true that his father does go to the bar, however he doesn't work there. He only goes there to drink and fool around.

This is something Kenny found out one day, and it's the very reason why he can't tell his mother that the man she loves has been doing...weird things behind her back. It was three months ago.

/

May 19th-22nd

Death had claimed Kenny that day. He was in Gym class, and the coach had his students playing dodgeball in the gymnasium. Long story short, halfway through the game a red ball pelted Kenny hard enough to knock him over, and he hit his head on the vinyl flooring. He immediately lost consciousness, but passed away a few minutes later from a fractured skull and immense blood loss.

When he awoke three days later, it was only the crack of dawn.

The resuscitated boy laid in bed with an aching body and a throbbing head, it felt as if days had passed until the dull pains had lessened. He slowly sat up, his parka's hood slipping off his head. At home, he felt he could always show his face without any eyes judging him. His family didn't really care how the other looked since taking a bath was scarce due to the limitations of water usage. He stood up on his mattress, his stomach begging to be fed. He frowned. "All we have are Pop-Tarts and water...but as mom as always says, it's better than nothin'," he reasoned with himself. He ambled out of his bedroom, quietly walking to the kitchen, the weak floorboards groaning in protest every so often.

Through the darkness, Kenny saw a box on top of the dining table. Seemed his mother didn't bother putting it back into the cupboards. He neared the table, standing on his tiptoes to reach up and grab the box. Standing back on the soles of sock covered feet, though they're dirty and riddled with a few holes, he felt around inside the box for the snack. His fingers came in contact with an aluminum wrapping, he took it out. Only to find out that it was the last Pop-Tart. The lightness of the box indicated as much. Kenny heaved a silent sigh as he put the snack back into the box, then returned it onto the table. "I'll save it for Karen," he thought with a small smile. He always placed his little sister first before himself or anyone else. Karen was a sweet girl who didn't deserve to go through the hardships they faced nearly every day.

Before Kenny even took one step, the front door creaked open. Immediately after, a pungent stench of cigarettes, booze, and something else Kenny couldn't describe wafted inside. He almost gagged at the putrid combination, but kept quiet. He's accustomed to his parents reeking of beer and cigarette smoke since they drink and smoke sometimes here at home, getting those items from somewhere within the neighborhood or from their 'friends' since they're unable to buy any themselves. But this indescribable smell that's intermixing with the alcohol and the stinging cigarette residue was very new to Kenny, and he didn't like it.

The door gently closed shut, and soft thudding footsteps entered the living room. Kenny stood nervously still in the kitchen as the man sat down on the couch with a sigh of relief. Silence followed shortly afterwards.

Kenny didn't know what to do. Something about his father coming home smelling this heavily of drugs was very suspicious. It was just last week he started going to some bar, telling everyone that he found a job position there. But things hadn't changed, Kenny began to notice. As young as he was, he didn't at first, it was his older brother who had pointed it out to him. Not to Karen because she's only 4 years old, and Kevin didn't want to taint the 'good and caring' image she had of their father. Not just yet at least. Kevin, who's 12 years old, became cognizant of the lack of food, beverages, just anything that could appease to their needs with their father's 'money'. Their living situation remained the same.

Kenny was snapped out of his thoughts by heavy breathing. His pulse quickened, he had to get back to his room unnoticed. From the sound of the man's breathing, he's probably asleep. Kenny placed a hand over his fast-beating heart. Curling it into a fist, he started to creep out of the kitchen. As soon as one of his feet stepped into the hallway, the floorboards creaked again. He froze, as did the breathing. His heart began to beat faster as he held his breath, hearing his father mumble incoherent words as he shuffled about on the sofa. Then it was silent once again. But the deep breathing didn't resume. Pressing his lips into a nervous line, Kenny tightened his fist and took another step forward. He continued to do so for he wasn't far from his bedroom, but another squeak from the floorboards made him dash to his room. He closed the door as gently as he could, then leaned against it, panting. He'd surely alerted his father this time. However...no footsteps came his way. Perhaps his father thought a rat was scurrying around, thus he paid no attention to the noisy floorboards. The possibility relieved Kenny. He sighed, the short burst of adrenaline draining from his body. His heartbeat returned to its steady beating. He walked over to his bed on the floor, sitting down on it, then pulling his knees up to his chest. He stayed in that position even when the sun rose an hour later.

The rundown bungalow sprung to life with noise, footsteps Kenny assumed were his mother's and little sister's roamed about throughout the small house. His older brother must still be asleep, and as for his father...Kenny didn't really care what that liar was up to. He trusted him, both him and the rest of his family did. But after what Kevin told him, their mother's words couldn't have been more factual.

Stuart was a no-good bastard.

Kenny frowned, hugging his knees tighter. He's going to tell his mother what Kevin revealed to him about their father. He had proof to back up his claim, and it was the lack of money. Surely, his mother noticed during the timeframe of his father 'working' at the bar that there hadn't been any significant changes in their home. "I'll tell her when dad isn't around," Kenny thought, determined. He released his numb legs and laid them down on the somewhat soft mattress, waiting until he felt the blood circulating properly in his legs. Once the tingling dwindled, he stood up and walked over to his door. The moment he raised a hand for the doorknob, the door suddenly opened. His hazel eyes widened instantly at the individual...he didn't even hear them approaching.

Stood before the boy was his father. Kenny could still detect the stench of alcohol, cigarette smoke, and the other weird scent from him, albeit they weren't as strong as before. "W-what does he want?" Kenny thought uneasily. The man had yet to say a word to him ever since he opened the door, his faintly bloodshot, brown eyes boring down at him.

Suddenly, his father got down on one knee. "Kenny," he began, his Southern accent and expression serious. "Did you leave yer room earlier?"

Kenny's breath hitched in his throat, his uneasiness increasing as his father stared at him with unblinking eyes, awaiting his answer. He could lie and say that he was in his room, it's not like his father would remember anyway since he was drunk an hour prior. He willed himself to calm down before he spoke. "No, I was still asleep."

The man narrowed his eyes. "Don't lie ta me, boy. Aah know damn well it was you in the kitchen. Carol, Karen, nor Kevin don't wake up past five in the mornin'." Kenny's eyes widened once again in absolute shock. He had been caught. He knew he couldn't lie his way out of this one, his father was right after all. Neither his mother, Karen, nor Kevin woke up or stayed up past five in the morning for anything. Not even on the weekends. He flinched as if he'd been pinched when his father placed a hand on his small shoulder. They stared directly into each other's eyes, Kenny's orbs wavering under his father's intense stare. "Aah want you ta keep what you know a secret, got it?" He said, applying some pressure onto Kenny's shoulder when he didn't reply immediately.

Kenny winced. "Y-yes, I got it. But I was-"

"Aah don't wanna hear it." His father hardened his glare, but he let go of his shoulder as he stood up straight. "If aah find out that you spilled on me, Aah'll make sure you regret it. Both you an' Kevin betta keep yer mouths shut."

Kenny could only stand there in stunned disbelief as his father walked away. So...the reason why Kevin never told their mother about their father's deception was because...he was threatened not to. With a trembling hand, the shaken child gripped at his parka, right where his racing heart was.

"H-he wouldn't hurt me...would he...?"

/

The blonde-haired boy is brought back to the present by the sound of movement. He sees his father's silhouette standing up from the couch, but he doesn't do anything else. An undefinable silence hangs in the cool air as Kenny assumes they're locking eyes through the darkness. Every second that passes by in quietude, his heart would quicken anxiously.

"Kenny," says his father. To said boy's surprise, his voice didn't hint that he was drunk. If anything, he sounded monotonous. "Come outside."

Kenny narrows his eyes at his father. "Go outside? What for?" He wonders to himself, skeptical. He makes no attempt to abide by his father's nonsensical order. "Something isn't right about him...maybe he's drunk after all. I think I should wake up mom and tell her. I don't care what he does to me later."

"I know what you're thinking, Kenny. Don't even try it." Kenny nearly gasps. He eyes the man's shadowy figure, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "I warned you, didn't I? That if you told Carol what I've been doing whenever I go to the bar, I would make you regret it."

Fear washes over Kenny. "Y-you wouldn't hurt me...you wouldn't..." he whimpers, hugging himself in a self-comforting embrace. His father's boots pad along the fragile floorboards, the thudding gradually making its way towards Kenny. Each step seems to echo in his ears, leisurely becoming louder the closer the man gets.

Or so Kenny thought.

In actuality, his father is walking to the front door.

The boy blinks his eyes open and raises his head, unable to recall when he averted his gaze and closed his eyes in the first place. He sees a ray of light enter the small house followed by some cold air. He shudders as the chilly winds sway his undershirt and bits of his hair.

"I'm going to tell you one last time, come outside."

Kenny tenses, and without saying a word, he obeys his father's command. "If he kills me...I'll just come back anyway," he thinks negatively. He trudges to the front door, his father waiting for him out on the porch. As soon as he steps foot out of the doorway, his father walks down into their barren front yard. There's trash buried in the snow in some areas, but most of the junk litters their backyard. Kenny pauses, glancing up at the morning sky, his hair gently fluttering across his expressionless face. Now it's a pretty mixture of pink and blue. The clouds can be seen slowly moving, and the sun is just minutes away from showing itself to this side of the world. Lowering his head, Kenny takes a few more steps out onto the porch, leaving the door open. He hopes that the additional decrease of the temperature inside the house would wake up either of his family members, most preferably his mother.

"There are some things you must know, Kenneth McCormick," 'his father' says, his back to him. "The main one being that a great danger is approaching this place." Kenny appears confused. His weird acting father turns around locking his empty eyes with perplexed hazel ones. Kenny unconsciously avoids eye contact. "At the moment, I'm taking over your father's body, and I would like to hurry and get out of this...disgusting thing. I came here to forewarn you of the creatures of darkness and the darkness itself." There's silence as Kenny's face scrunches up in even further confusion. He looks up at 'his father', his brown, pupil-less eyes reminding Kenny of mud. The possessed man takes one step towards him. Instinctively, he takes one step back. "Worry not, child. I'm not going to harm you. But I must make this quick. Tonight, or maybe more nights to come, you will meet someone in your dreams. They will tell you more about the approaching darkness. Though I can tell you this much...Beings of Darkness' have already made their move. The one here has claimed a few dozen humans, and many more will fall into corruption the longer it continues to roam freely about. One of your friends' mother is one of its victims."

Kenny's eyes widen in shock. "W-what? W-who is it?"

'His father' shakes his head. "I'm afraid I cannot tell you. You must either find out on your own or have them tell you in your dream when you encounter them...I have one more thing to tell you before I depart, Kenneth...You along with your friends will train to defeat both the Beings of Darkness' and the creeping darkness. For now, the darkness is the least of your worries, however you and your friends must be thoroughly prepared for it before it reaches here."

Kenny's lips form into a thin line. "But...who are you? How can I trust you?"

Abruptly, the tender breeze picks up speed. Kenny clenches his eyes shut as he hugs himself tightly, whereas 'his father' stands perfectly still. "Remember what I have told you today, do not forget," the man says over the strong current of air. "You must also be cautious of your friend, Kyle Broflovski." The wind lasts for a few more seconds until it stops completely.

Kenny struggles to open his eyes, his body feeling frozen stiff. But despite that, his mind is filled with a lot of questions, most of them regarding Kyle. He looks down at his arms, grimacing at the purple spots dotting his pale skin. He then notices his father lying face down in the snow. He slowly wanders over to him, which is taking a great amount of effort to move his practically frozen legs.

Once he's close enough to his father, Kenny collapses onto his knees. Biting back a whine, he extends a shaky hand out towards his father's shoulder. He shakes him, not able to put any energy into it since he doesn't have any. Thankfully, it didn't require too much to stir the man back to consciousness. He groans before his head shoots upwards, bits of snow clinging onto his face and mustache. "The hell happened?" He asks, genuinely bemused as to why he's outside. Kenny watches him wipe the snow from off his face. Afterwards, he notices Kenny beside him and nearly panics. "Jesus, Kenny. What the hell are we doin' out here?" He does a double take on his son's hair, squinting at the white strand. "And what's up with yer hair?" Through his heavy trembling, Kenny just shrugs. He's been cold for so long that he's starting to feel numb all over, as well as tired. His father becomes aware of his freezing and enervated form, and with a frown, he stands up. "Well, let's head inside."

Kenny blinks slowly when he feels his father pick him up, his vision becoming dark. He blacks out soon after.

August 12th

Warm.

A comfortable warmth is surrounding Kenny's entire body. He isn't sure if he's dreaming the cozy feeling, but it's something he doesn't want leaving him. He snuggles into the warmth, inhaling a strong scent of cigarettes but not caring. The heat the fabric is providing him is much more important than its smell.

After about an hour or so, Kenny opens his eyes. Through indistinct vision, he barely makes out that he's in his house and that it's dark. He blinks a few times, then wipes at his eyes with his hands. Immediately, a sense of familiarity hits him. He looks down at himself, covering him is one of his father's jackets, and he's wearing his parka.

"M-my jacket!" Kenny sits up with wide eyes of shock. He removes his arms from under the jacket, so he can get a better look at the parka he thought was lost forever. There's no mistaking it, he somehow has his parka securing his upper half. "Oh yeah...I didn't get a chance to look for this in the living room. So it really was in there then." Kenny then looks around his surroundings. To his surprise, he is in the living room. "Why am I..." He recalls the strange event that happened with his father. The warning he received from whomever or whatever that was possessing him left Kenny with many questions that didn't leave his mind. He clutches his father's jacket. "I know for a fact I didn't dream all of that, it felt way too real. Being told about some...Beings of Darkness', about people already being those things' victims...and one of them being my best friend's mom." Kenny feels he should trust what the mystery being told him. Why would the spirit possess his father just to lie to him? "He also said that me and my friends are gonna have to prepare to defeat the Beings of Darkness' and the darkness itself...but what do they look like, and how are we gonna beat them? He could've at least told me." Kenny sighs, now he has to worry about paranormal dangers on top of his inability to die. He releases his hold on his father's jacket, and sits there. All he can do is just sit on the couch, and let the big brown jacket and his parka thaw his frostbitten body as his mind conjures up question after question. But after awhile, he gives up. His questions are going to remain unanswered anyway. He begins to wonder which one of his best friends' mother had been claimed by a Being of Darkness; it could either be Mrs. Marsh, Mrs. Broflovski, or Ms. Cartman. Although he hadn't been over any of his best friends' houses lately, thanks to dying, the thought of any one of them being manipulated by a monster makes him very concerned for both his best friend's and their mother's safety. "I haven't seen Stan, Kyle, or Eric acting weird lately. I wonder how long this Being of Darkness has been in South Park for."

Suddenly, a memory of his possessed father plays out in his mind. The wind was blowing harshly around them, but his father remained motionless as his brown hair and clothes blew rapidly in the powerful gale. Kenny had his eyes shut at the time, but he could somehow picture his father's moving lips. "You must also be cautious of your friend, Kyle Broflovski," was what he said before he dropped to the ground.

Kenny furrows his eyebrows. "What did he mean by that? I'd understand Eric, but Kyle...? Why him?" He never saw anything wrong with Kyle recently, so why must he be careful around him? After some moments of thinking, Kenny comes to a decision. "The only way for me to know...is to find out myself," he says softly. Although he's determined to discover anything suspicious about Kyle, Kenny is reluctant to leave the warmth enveloping him. It feels like it's literally been ages since he last felt toasty in his own home. "No," Kenny shakes his head. "Kyle is more important right now. I have my parka now, so I'll be fine." He removes his father's jacket from over his lap, shuddering at the coldness seeping through his orange pants. He carefully swings his legs off of the couch and gets down. Once his feet land to the floor, a sharp pain shoots through him. He winces and quickly covers his mouth to keep from crying out. He waits for the pain to recede before lowering his hands from his mouth. He looks down at his dirty and battered socks. He wiggles his toes only to wince in pain again. "Ngh...t-that hurts...but I gotta fight through it. I have to see Kyle. Hopefully, I can tell him about this darkness stuff if nothing is wrong with him." With that thought, he forces his shaky legs to move, his feet stinging under the pressure of his skinny weight. "F-fight through it," he reminds himself, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. He quickly wipes them away, and eventually reaches the front door, a little out of breath from the exertion. But his breathing soon returns to normal. The blonde bends down for his beat-up sneakers by the door, quickly putting them on his feet, feeling the repercussions of his hastiness afterwards.

Wincing once more, Kenny pulls the door back. His parka protects him from the cold night air, very glad to be wearing it. He hopes he never loses it again. Hazel eyes look up at the sky, gazing at the full moon, clouds, and stars. This is such a beautiful and rare scene, Kenny is happy to bask in such serenity. But then he realizes that Kyle's family might be asleep, and he frowns. Even if that's the case, he still yearns to see the Jewish boy. He closes the door, then pulls his parka's hood over his head, tugging the strings to tighten his hood around his face, leaving some space for his eyes.

"Okay...let's go!" The boy takes off into a sprint towards Kyle's house.