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Infra Dig

Chapter Text

Infra Dig


I just want a friend.

It didn't matter how far, or how deep he tried to remember the first time of how it happened or why; it was all one big blur. Kenny McCormick couldn't die. At least, he didn't stay dead. He could think of many reasons as to why he didn't like it: everyone is supposed to die, who likes having more than one funeral, when would he find out what God looked like… No, the worst part was that no one remembered. He was sick of trying to convince his friends and family that he was different, he was sick of seeing those he loved be torn over his death and contemplating suicide to be with him but then being happy-go-lucky the morning after, he was sick of pretending like he was normal. He wanted to be normal, not act like he was.

I want a friend.

Kenny McCormick faked his death and disappeared. It was a quick, simple thought that had occurred to him once when he was scraping his old dead body off of the road one day. If they forgot his real deaths, they shouldn't forget a fake one. So he got to work. It took a week of ignoring his friends and family and trying to fabricate a perfect suicide note, but he did it eventually and somehow, somehow… he had managed to fake a suicide.

The escape plan was easier than the facade by means of action, but mentally, it made him feel like he really, really was, gone. Seeing Karen crying over his death… Somehow it was worse than with his real deaths, like he had actually, finally, died. He did, in a way. Now there was no more Kenny McCormick. He had a real life death certificate, a tomb stone that would be in the ground forever- a grieving family that would never recover and friends who would never forget him.

I need a friend.

He was wrong, though. Everyone went back to their normal lives eventually while he was stuck struggling to survive on his own under a new name. It was embarrassing. How could he be forgotten again? It was a repeating question with only one response: now that you're really dead, you can't see them and play pretend again.

Sitting in his own wallow and self pity, he decided that he would overcome this infra dig with a name that would never, ever be forgotten, a name that would make him immortal to people's minds: he would live as the great Mysterion.

Chapter Text

Chapter One: Unwanted Friends

Twelve years after...

Eight months before present...


What a boring life. It was the single thought that always passed through Kenny’s mind; especially at work where he was almost always alone. It was eleven o’clock at night, which meant his shift was almost over and that always gave him a sigh of relief.

The store was small and cramped, which gave it its life-sucking effect- a robbery would be the only thing that could give this place some excitement but it was so small that no one would ever attempt it, even if Kenny or one of his coworkers begged and groveled for them to. He swatted at a fly that buzzed by his ear. Sick.

There was a distant flush and Kenny looked over to the bathroom from where he stood stiffly behind the counter. His shoulders and back had lost all feeling the second hour of his shift but worse yet was that some bald pedophile looking guy had been in the bathroom for forty five minutes.

Just get the fuck out of here… Kenny sighed and shook his head to himself. The bathroom door finally started to open and Kenny stepped back from the counter, out of any arms’ length. He was a good twenty seven years old but that didn’t stop children’s fear.

He subconsciously swallowed as he watched the man approach, forehead sweaty and brows furrowed; he was probably battling some bad thought. Kenny hoped it was to rob the store.

They didn’t speak to each other, the man simply placing down a worn twenty dollar bill and stating for twenty in gas at post 1. Kenny opened the register in a way to display all of the money in it but it didn’t do much because the man was looking at his chewed finger nails, so he put the bill in and bid the man the routinely “Have a good night”. Whatever the man was thinking, Kenny’s words cut through and the man gave a quick nod before hurrying out of the shop.

Damn. Kenny looked at the time on his cheap flip phone and exhaled deeply: one hour left for any kind of excitement. It didn’t take a genius to know that all of the excitement was in Colorado. The most exciting thing to happen here since Kenny moved in to town was a waitress getting beaten and harassed, and that was just a couple’s dispute. No, the real stuff was three hundred miles away in South Park. Kenny shook his head at the town’s memory.

Once a South Park kid, always a South Park kid. Until you kill yourself, then you’re no one’s kid.

He shook his head again. Stop with the thoughts.

It was hard to forget the town though, and its people: Butters, Stan, Cartman’s fat ass, Kyle… Another shake of his head. When he stalked their social medias there was nothing about him, just their lives now. Butters was a tattoo artist, Stan was in law school, Cartman was running some sort of mafia that no one would mess with, and Kyle… Well, Kyle wasn’t actually on social media much.

It was surprising though, Butters’ chosen profession. A tattoo artist? Well, he always liked to doodle when they were kids but still, using a needle gun instead of markers was a big change. Kenny would have never guessed either; Butters’ skin was still as porcelain as it was when he had left. At least he was still innocent and ruining other peoples’ bodies instead of his own. Hm… that would be a good stress reliever.

My friends… Kenny leaned over the counter and put his face in his hands. What have I done to myself? It was clear what he had done, though. Kenny McCormick had hanged himself at fifteen years old and now Ralph Coffee, twenty seven, was the man that that boy should have grown into. Ralph had messy, unkempt sandy hair and some unforgiving facial stubble that he kept forgiving to shave. He also had freckled skin from too much of this town’s sun. Kenny shook his head again.

The only thing to link Ralph to his past were his icy blue eyes. The unkempt hair made a new person all on its own but the light freckles were a given, one that Kenny wasn’t fond of. Damn sun.

The door’s bell jingled and Kenny sighed, rubbing his hands over his face to regain himself. Footsteps sounded walking past him and he took the time to mutter insults to himself to make himself feel better. Ralph was stern and kept to himself, he didn’t have any weaknesses.

Get up .

Kenny pushed himself up from the counter and took a deep breath to gain full control of himself again. He glanced around to see where the customer was and it took a full two minutes and standing on his toes to spot him. There was a man with messy, messy blonde hair standing at the drink coolers and Kenny couldn’t help but raise a brow while watching him. The guy was just… weird. His shoulder jerked and Kenny gave him a look. “Are you-”

“Gah!” The blonde’s whole body twitched and Kenny furrowed his brows.

“...Tweek?” It came out sudden and without much thought and Kenny managed to duck under the counter just as the man looked over.

“W-who said that?”

Kenny cursed to himself and peeked up over the counter’s edge. The blonde was looking around with light twitches and looked to be freaking himself out a little too much; Kenny stood and waved to keep him from running.

“Hey, uh, it’s just me, the cashier.” He stated and the blonde stared at him, narrowed his eyes, widened them again, and went to rub his neck. “Oh.. S-s-sorry.” The words sounded like they were directed elsewhere but Kenny shook his head and shrugged.

“No, it’s fine, I just dropped something; sorry for spooking you.” He gave a nervous smile to the customer and somehow got him to give a meek smile in return.

“Okay- okay.” The customer turned back to face the coolers again and Kenny leaned on the counter to watch him. There wouldn’t be a reason in Hell for Tweek Tweak to be three hundred miles from South Park. He couldn’t survive without his parents’ constant mental torture, he was sure. That kid sure did look like him though; messy hair, twitches, blonde messy hair.

The customer opened the cooler and pulled out a bottle of cold coffee and Kenny pushed off of the counter to check him out without scaring him when he started approaching. He put the bottle down a little too hard when a twitch jerked his hand and Kenny grabbed it to keep it from tipping over. “This is 2.50. You can get another for $3.00.” Kenny recited and the customer seemed to consider it greatly but ultimately didn’t move so Kenny punched in the price.

“Ten cents and you can get another.”

“...I-I can g-get it?”

Kenny waved off the customer after the three dollars were paid and he went to grab his other awarded drink. Kenny looked at the time again and huffed to himself. Forty five minutes left.

The customer came back to the counter to get his other coffee and Kenny bid a goodnight. The blonde stood there for a moment, though, thinking.

“Does it scare you?” He asked and Kenny quirked a brow.

“Does what scare me?”

“B-being alone- all alone.” The last bit was hushed, probably for some kind of inner turmoil Kenny assumed and he shrugged. “Not really. I’m a nighttime kind of guy.” He replied and grinned. The customer seemed to get a bit uncomfortable at the gesture so Kenny cleared his throat and turned to the cash register to pretend to adjust something on it.

“What’s your name?” It was a loud blurt that even scared the customer who had asked it and Kenny had a thought that it sounded like a preteen with puberty.

“Ralph Coffee.” Kenny stated and pointed to his worn name tag. The blonde’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment and Kenny gestured to him. “What’s your name?” He asked.

There was a silence to awkward for comfort but the customer eventually spoke up.


It wasn’t what Kenny expected but he wouldn’t force someone to give him their name; even though it wasn’t exactly fair.

“I was just curious. So, what brings you to town? You don’t look too fond of the outdoors.” He replied. The blonde seemed to consider this for a moment.

“I-I ...I needed a uh.. break.”

“From what?”

The blonde was silent and looked to his coffee holding hands before looking back to “Ralph” and giving a smile too wide for his face. “Life.”

They both stood there in silence, looking into each others’ blue and green eyes and Kenny could feel some sort of connection- some sort of loss they seemed to share.

Kenny broke the connection. “You should probably go, huh? It’s sort of too late for someone like you to be out, some weird people hang around these parts.” He stated while turning to the cigarette casing behind him, checking to make sure it was locked to gain some distance from the customer. He wanted a friend, but Tweek wasn’t an option and he could feel something from the interaction easing him into a comfort. That damn customer was probably feeling the same thing because he didn’t move, just contemplated the words even while Kenny was indirectly telling him to leave.

“Did you walk here?” The customer asked and Kenny sighed at the glass, looking to the blonde from the reflection.

“No, a friend dropped me off.”

“...I could drive you home.”

“Look,” Kenny turned from the case to the customer. “I don’t take rides from strangers.” Those green eyes set in deep gray sockets seemed to waver and Kenny glanced away. It was like kicking a puppy. A persistent puppy that you had to kick to make go away and that haunted you all night for it.

“What kind of name is “Coffee”?” The blonde asked.

It was the name from a tombstone; some man who died from a drunk driver. Ralph Coffee, a very fitting name.

“I don’t really know.” Kenny stated. The customer ultimately held out a shaky hand. “I-I’m Tweek. You can ride in the b-back of my truck: t-the bed.”

Kenny looked at the hand and huffed with a light shake of the head. “I can’t.” “I need… I… I need help.” The words were soft and looking at his hand Kenny could still see the fear. There was something else too, though. He felt as though he was being trusted.

He shook his head harder, looking to Tweek’s face this time. “I’m not a good person.”

“Neither am I.”

Kenny let out a frustrated chuckle but the hand stayed, trembling. “I can’t survive on my own.”

Their eyes met but Kenny couldn’t break his away this time. He reached out and clasped the hand; it clasped his right back.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

What Tweek needed help with was running away. Ralph wasn’t allowed to know the details: he had loaded up into the bed of Tweek’s truck after locking up the shop and took to hollering directions to his apartment to Tweek through the truck’s back window which was open just a crack: to keep safe from the still-a-stranger Ralph. He assumed Tweek was sitting up there drinking his coffees and thinking through scattered thoughts. Maybe he wasn’t though. Kenny used to be pretty alright but now he thought of all sorts of things; maybe Tweek had finally matured and his mind was calm. That’d be something amazing.

It was a ten minute drive to the apartment and Kenny was glad it was too cheap to be ashamed of. He walked Tweek to the front door and peeked at him, to see his expression. He didn’t look like he was judging the look of the place what-so-ever, he just looked calm with an occasional twitch or jerk.

“It’s small but somewhat tidy.” Kenny stated and Tweek nodded, waiting for Kenny to step in first. He eventually understood this and entered, letting Tweek close and lock the door as he followed. Kenny hadn’t lied, he kept the place as clean as he could. When he was a kid, nothing mattered: cleanliness, health, appearances… That changed with Ralph, though. As an adult, Kenny didn’t even smoke anymore. It was all for a change of identity, though. He’d kill for a nice cigarette or an occasional blunt every now and then.

“How long do you plan to stay?” He asked, unclipping his name tag from his shirt and going to drop it on the little dinner table the room had come with.

“It’s not s-safe where I came from.” Tweek murmured. Kenny looked to him from where he was slipping out of his shoes.


“I… I just don’t want to go back.”

Kenny exhaled and motioned to the bed. “You can sleep there, I’ll sleep on the couch.” He stated. Tweek didn’t lighten up as much as Kenny had hoped by giving him the bed but the blonde accepted it and made his way to the bed anyway, going to sit on the edge of it. “W-where are you from, Ralph?” He asked. Kenny raised a brow and took a breath.

“I’m uh, from somewhere far away.” He replied, Tweek’s bird eyes watching him.

“I lied.” Tweek said, his expression staying the same with his eyes wide and scouring. Kenny blinked and furrowed his brows, slowly bumping a couch cushion to prepare for sleep. “...About what?” He looked at him.

“I need more help.”

Kenny gave the cushion another slow, cautious bump before turning to lean against the couch’s back, facing Tweek’s sitting, jerking form.

“Alright, well, what do you need help with?” The situation was making him feel like he was in one of those ID channel shows, like he was going to end up being held hostage or something. Hm, that’d be exciting.

“There’s this guy. He’s uh, k-killing people in my home town.”

“Isn't that what the police are for?” He knew why the police weren't involved, they were stupider than cow shit and didn't give a damn about anything unless it had to do with something completely idiotic, maybe like the death of Scarlet Johanson or something.

The look Tweek gave Kenny showed just what he was thinking but Ralph had never been to South Park and didn't particularly know its inhabitants. Kenny shrugged as if waiting for a true response and Tweek huffed.

“They've left.”

This actually did shock Kenny. It wasn't surprising as a thought, but it actually happening was a real shocker.

“Isn't that illegal?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“Who gives a shit? Will you help me or not?” Tweek yelled, blood boiling in frustration and annoyance. Kenny pressed his lips together and gave a deep breath through his nose at the thought. “What's in it for me?” He asked again. “I don't know, have you been a shitty person in life? Make up for it.” The response was agitated but simple, enough for Kenny McCormick.

I could redeem myself.

Four Months Later

Ralph Coffee, the new identity of the 'dead' Kenny McCormick, sat patiently just outside of South Park Elementary School. In his three months here going on four, he still hadn't caught even a glimpse of the man killing South Park's finest: blonde males. As far as he knew, Tweek was right to be scared. For some reason, blondes were being found strangled in their homes and sometimes posed in some sort of manner. One every two weeks. The other murders consisted of children and so far, the highest age of someone murdered hadn’t gone over Tweek’s graduating class so Kenny concluded that the main targets were children and anyone in their mid to late twenties- Butters, Tweek, and Bradley, that Kenny knew of.

The bell to the school rang and Ralph cleared away Kenny’s thoughts, bowing his head down to the newspaper he held in his lap. He raised his blue eyes to the school and watched as students came pouring out. There looked to be more dark heads to light ones and Kenny chewed the inside of his lip. Parents were taking their children out of school. What a shame. There was one child that caught his attention, though. A young blonde child who was headed off with the rest suddenly stopped in place and turned his head to the side, as if hearing something. Then he left.

Ralph watched as the child headed in the opposite direction of everyone else, stalking off toward a mass of trees that stood tall near the school. It was when a quick shadow passed near the boy that Ralph stood and, placing the newspaper onto the creaky bench, headed after them.

Two of the boys had been snatched when at school and their bodies placed in their homes’ beds by the next morning. Kenny had thought that Tweek had calmed and eased as a person over the years of his absence but really, he found that the blonde was even more eccentric- just not at all on the outside. It didn’t take long for Kenny to realize just of obsessed Tweek was with this killer and in their current residence together, the walls were filled with clippings of the murders, pictures of the victims that Tweek had somehow managed to get, and there was even some physical evidence that Tweek kept in the freezer for preservation- like foreign blood that had been collected from a victim’s corpse. It kind of naturally led to Kenny knowing more about the murders than he should had.

Clearing away his thoughts again, Ralph continued after the child, watching as he headed deeper for the trees. The boy walked beneath a tree’s heavy shadow and seemed to smile to something hidden in the other growth. “He-”

The boy disappeared into the trees and his shriek stopped Ralph mid-sentence, and the man ran for the woods after the boy.

“Hey! Hey, kid!” He called for the boy but didn’t see him, just empty woods full of growth and snow and leaves, and he looked around the woods. “Kid?”

There was the sound of a rustle and Ralph walked to a small bunch of trees. He slipped between two and rolled his gaze over the woods and the ground of melting snow, and he caught the briefest glimpse of the heal of a shoe, just before it was pulled behind a bush.

“Hey, you-!” Ralph turned the corner of the bush but shut his mouth when he saw the boy with his hand in a familiar redhead’s.

“Jeez, I’m sorry, is this your son? Johnny, I’ve told you to go straight home when the bell rings!” The redhaired adult scolded the boy, who frowned. “...I’m sorry Mr. Broflovski. He’s not my dad, though.” The boy pointed at Ralph and the redhead looked at him with his familiar green eyes.

“Oh? Well w-”

“I-I’m Ralph Coffee, nice to meet you. I mean, sorry, I just heard about that killer and everything, and I saw him come in here alone, and I just..” Ralph laughed awkwardly, the other man’s eyes narrowed and eyebrow raised.

“...Um… okay. Johnny, go straight home and be careful. Don’t talk to strangers.” The man let go of the boy’s hand and the blonde child nodded and spared a wave to the two adults before running off back from the trees, and Ralph looked the redhaired man over. He was wearing a casual suit, hair as neat as could be with all of those curls, and his skin was flawlessly smooth, with splashes of freckles. His lips were naturally red, and looked soft.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Those lips moved with the words, and Ralph cleared his throat and held out his hand.

“Ahh, yeah, I’m Ralph Coffee. I was just wanting to make sure he was alright, I swear.” He held up his other hand in surrender and the other man eyed him immensely.

“...I’m Kyle Broflovski, Mr. Broflovski. Are you new here?” The redhead took Ralph’s hand and he shook it, taking the opportunity to revel in the softness of his skin.

“Uh, yes, I am. Three months, maybe? I was just nearby and got worried about that kid, so I came over- I’m not a bad guy, or anything.” Ralph laughed and took his hand back to rub his neck. Kyle still looked skeptical. Kyle. Kyle, who Kenny hadn’t seen since before he faked his suicide, no, scratch that, he had seen him at his funeral, crying a mess with Stan, but now… A teacher? He looked amazing, flawless, clean, neat, mature-

“So you don’t know anyone yet?” Kyle asked again, and Ralph shook his head quickly, dropping his hand to his side. “No, I came here for a job opportunity and haven’t met anyone yet.” He lied.

“A job? What sort of job? People here would kill for work.” Kyle crossed his arms over his chest and Ralph blinked and chuckled. “Haha, oh, that? I uh, ...Well, it didn’t work out. I got stranded here because of it.” He lied better, and Kyle still watched him with that reading expression.

“Hm. Well, it isn’t wise to be out these days, there’s a killer out, you know.” Kyle twisted his fine lips and Ralph gave a single nod, a little bow. “And thank you for that. I should um, really be going. Uh… it was nice meeting you! Good luck with your kids.” Ralph drawled and offered a smile, and Kyle watched him.

“...Mm, see you. Thank you for worrying about Johnny, but you really should mind yourself. The children’s parents are very on edge right now, and you wouldn’t want to be caught in the crossfire.” Kyle said and his lips pulled into a little smile, and Ralph nodded and smiled. He felt jittery. Was he really seeing Kyle? It made him want to see Stan and Butters, too. It was Kyle, it really was Kyle, his old best friend. He felt a little more happy than he maybe should had.

“Yeah, it was good meeting you. Again.” Ralph laughed and turned to leave, but he stopped when Kyle spoke up again.

“Where are you staying?”

Ralph looked back to his old friend. “Pardon?”

“Where are you staying? Here, in town?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I’m a roomy. I’m rooming with Tweek Tweak.”

“Hm.” Kyle dropped his hands to his sides and walked passed Ralph, slipping through the gap of trees first.


Ralph made it back to he and Tweek’s house after his search for any sign of the killer was a failure, and he knocked on the door.

“Tacos!” He called, and waited for the door to open after the sound of metal clanking. Tweek had given them codes to get in, tacos: it’s me, it’s safe; and hamburgers: it’s an ambush, don’t open it. Ralph didn’t protest, because it gave him a place to stay, and because Tweek was a bit like a friend now, to him.

The door peeked open and Tweek’s large green eye looked out.

“Are you okay?” He asked and Ralph nodded. “I didn’t find anything.” He replied, going inside when Tweek opened the door to let him. When Ralph entered, he stood still and let Tweek observe him with a quick walk-around, to make sure he was unharmed.

“...Okay.” Tweek finally decided to fall back, and he re-locked the door before stepping back to hug himself and watch Ralph.

“You’re sure you didn’t f-find anything?”

“Yeah, there was nothing. I thought a kid was going to get snagged at the school, but it was just his teacher getting on to him.”

“What did the teacher look like?”

“Curly red hair, freckles-”

“Oh, he’s okay.” Tweek huffed and glanced passed Ralph to the wall. There was a calendar there, and it was about time for the next murder. Ralph had been out all day scoping, but he just didn’t find anything. Tweek was adamant on them uncovering who it was now, but their work had just all been dead ends.

Ralph sighed at the expression on Tweak’s face and went to him to pat his fluffy head. Tweek flickered his eyes to him and Ralph gave him a half smile. “I’m here for my suit, I’m not done yet.” He said and Tweek’s eyes got big with hope. He pointed back, behind him, off to the rest of the house. “It’s in your room.” The blonde said and Ralph nodded, giving Tweek’s head another pat before slipping passed him to go to his bedroom. The house was Tweek’s own, one that he had inherited somehow, and it was cheap, so they didn’t have to do much work. Mainly because there was a water faucet out in the back that they could get water from, and because they used a generator for electricity, because Tweek didn’t exactly want the town to be in control of his living. The house was small and cozy, and it had stairs that led to three rooms, two bedrooms, and a bathroom, but one bedroom had been turned into a study for all of the evidence and clues that Tweek had collected. There was another bedroom downstairs, and a kitchen and pantry. Kenny’s room was the first floor’s, because that way, he could protect Tweek if someone broke in.

Tweek had told Ralph when he had first brought him to South Park, that there used to be a hero in the town called Mysterion, but he had disappeared. Tweek had made a suit like it, though, and given it to Ralph so that he could be the new one. So, Ralph stepped into his room, went to his closet, and pulled out the purple suit.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

Mysterion’s new outfit consisted of the same hood, with a better question mark on it, a mask that went further than his eyes, in case his hood slipped off (because Tweek felt that he could still be recognized by his freckles), and black boxers, because the white panties were old, and because boxers were just a little warmer.

Ralph bid Tweek farewell for the night and left as Mysterion to scout the town.

He had forgotten how cold the nights were. He had gone out as Mysterion a few times during his return, but it was still a shock, the opposite of the sweaty nights in the other town, where he had coyotes shitting in his lawn. Coming back to South Park wasn’t exactly how he imagined it would be. No one remembered him, because he was technically dead, and he was ‘Ralph’ now. Kids weren’t out playing in the snow, because of the killer. No one really went to the bar anymore, so he hadn’t even gotten the chance to fuck anyone yet. He should had had a celebration for coming back, but he had fucked himself over.

There was nothing suspicious in view. The streets were quiet and empty. According to Tweek, the murders happened in a room, because some had carpet fibers in their hair, or on their clothes. They were dragged, too, but they had also been washed. Whoever was killing them wasn’t strong enough to carry them, and the bodies were dunked around town, in the snow.

As much as he would hate to admit, he wasn’t finding anything at all. Walking around, hopping from roofs, wandering the woods, there was nothing. Until everything changed, and he saw a blonde walking down a sidewalk.

Mysterion hopped off of Craig’s old house’s roof and fell into the snow. He dusted himself and followed after the teenager, until they stepped under a street light and he shook his head and stopped. It was a girl, and the targets were males. Mysterion pulled out his phone to text Tweek his luck, and the other blonde replied with a ‘damn’. It was nearing midnight, and it was only getting colder. Since the victims ranged in age, Mysterion didn’t know where to look. What a giant mess. What a giant, giant, morbid mess.

The hero walked in the shade of the night until he passed town to his friends’ old neighborhood, and since nothing seemed to be happening, he felt it wouldn’t hurt to stop and look. Butters’s house had the lights off, but there was no car in the driveway, so he must not had been home. It was the same for Cartman’s house, but Stan’s house had two cars in the driveway, and there were voices laughing inside. One of the cars was gray and had a tassel hanging from the review mirror, so it was either Bebe or Wendy because of their high school spirit, but it was more likely Wendy. Kenny was sort of jealous with how his friends had moved on. He was happy for them, though. Stan and Wendy sort of needed to be together. He had the urge to knock and say hello, but again, Kenny was dead.

Kyle’s house came into view and there were two lights on, one downstairs and one upstairs, and through the upstairs window, he could see a shadow passing over the curtains. What was Kyle doing, all alone?

There was a high-pitched scream, and it scared Mysterion, made him think someone had seen him and gotten spooked, but when he looked to see where it was, it was a woman a few houses down, looking at the ground. Mysterion ran to her when he saw a lump in the snow, and when the woman saw him, she screamed more, but he approached anyway.

“Mam, M-Mam, please, calm down.” He raised his gloved hands but she flinched and turned to run. She wasn’t blonde, so Mysterion didn’t run after her, but he sighed and looked at the lump.


The blonde lay in the snow in a heap of ruined clothes, blue eyes vacant and staring, and skin white. He looked to be posed, laying on his side, his legs slightly bent, and a hand raised to rest just in front of his face; like he were sleeping, but his eyes were open and dead. His hair wasn’t to his shoulders anymore, it was cut choppy, but it was still pale blonde, and he was absolutely beautiful.

Mysterion knelt to roll Pip onto his back, and he brought his ear down to the young man’s face, but there was no sound of any breaths.

“What the hell are you doing? You killed him! Y-” It was Kyle’s voice, from behind Mysterion, and he quickly stood and turned to the redhead. He reached out and grabbed the man around the torso with one arm, and he covered his mouth with his other hand, cutting him off.

“I didn’t kill him, okay? I just, I didn’t...” Kyle’s eyes were wide, green and wide, green like a healthy summer yard, and his skin was pale like the snow, but healthy, not like Pip’s dead color. And he was thin. Mysterion could feel the dips in his waist, and when he looked down, the redhead was in a red robe, silk. Mysterion could see the dips of Kyle’s pale collarbones that slid down into his robe, and PIP!

The hero let his old friend go and knelt back down beside Pip, and Kyle stumbled back away from him.

Mysterion knelt over Pip and started to press against his chest to resuscitate him, and his eyes darted around at the sudden sound of voices. More people were gathering, talking loud, and worried, and whispering, and Kyle stood with them, watching in utter confusion.


Is that Mysterion?”

Is that the killer?”

No, he’s trying to help him!”

It’s Mysterion.”


“They know!” Tweek’s hands slapped his face and slid into his hair, and he gripped large tufts. Ralph shook his head. “Of course they know, Tweek, it would be impossible to keep ‘Mysterion’ a secret for long.”

“Well, yeah, but this soon!?”

“It’s been months.”


“Tweek, calm down.” Ralph walked to Tweek to grab his shoulders. “It’s okay. Isn’t it good to give people hope?” He raised his eyebrows at Tweek when he looked at him with his teal green eyes, but the sweetness in them was short.

NO! Now it’s all ruined! West Park is going to send in their police now and they’re going to ruin everything!”

“Why would that ruin anything?” Ralph spun away from Tweek and went to flop into the couch. Tweek was still as loud as ever.

“Because they won’t handle the evidence right! They’ll poke their noses in the wrong business! And now they’ll be hunting Mysterion!”

“Why would they hunt Mysterion?” Ralph drawled.

“Because everyone hates vigilantes! Argh!” Tweek drained himself and dragged his hands down his face with a shake of his head. Ralph watched him. “...Okay, well, we need to focus on Pip, anyway. Are you done?” Tweek nodded silently and Ralph shook his head at him.

“Alright, well, what did you get on his body?” He asked and Tweek slowly went to sit in a chair.

“I didn’t yet. We’ll just go to Henrietta and ask her.”

“Who’s that?” Kenny knew just who it was, though. Henrietta Biggle, the goth girl from elementary.

“Henrietta Biggle, she’s the coroner.” Tweek sighed. “I get everything from her.”

Henrietta? A coroner? It didn’t sound strange, but it sounded strange that Tweek was acquaintances with her.

“I forgot to tell you, but we’re going over to the morgue to talk to her. Now.” Tweek groaned and Ralph furrowed his eyebrows. “What? Now?”


Ralph sighed heavily and moved to get up from the couch. Tweek snatched up his thermos and left outside, and Ralph followed him. They used Tweek’s truck, because Ralph didn’t have much of anything at all, let alone a vehicle. It was a short drive to the hospital, Hell’s Pass, and Tweek only managed to get into the morgue because he had texted Henrietta for an escort, which made it even more odd, because he had her phone number. When they walked down the steps to the morgue, and Henrietta shut the door behind them, she looked at Ralph. She wasn’t as goth as she was in her childhood, but she still wore black makeup and had some ear piercings. She popped a bubble in her bubblegum.

“Who are you?”

“H-he’s Ralph, the one I told you ab-about.”

“Oh.” She didn’t say anything else to Ralph. Instead, she turned from the two and headed to the bag, where the coolers were. There was already a body on a table, a blanket draped over their lower half. They weren’t blonde, and their body was pinned open for examination.

“Here he is.” Henrietta opened a cooler to slide out the table, and it was Pip, eyes closed and body immensely pale, nude, with a giant stitched Y on his torso. Tweek made a noise of discomfort, and Ralph glanced at Henrietta.

“Did you find anything strange about him?”

“Nah, not too much. Body was washed. But...” The woman walked to a table and grabbed a paper, and she walked back to them. She held it up and pointed at it, and the blondes looked at it. It was a diagram of a body, like in the movies, with circles and lines drawn on it, and notes.

“Here, see this? His ribs were broken, and it’s common in resuscitation. But, I was told by Tweek, that you did CPR about midnight. This was done before. You can tell from the damage, the tendons had some time to pull themselves back together; they were torn.”

“...Wait…” Ralph looked at Tweek. He hadn’t tried to resuscitate Pip, Mysterion had. Tweek didn’t look at him though, just watched Henrietta, processing.

“He told me everything.” Henrietta said after a moment and Ralph looked at her. “What?” “Yeah.”

“That means that the killer tried to bring him back to life!” Tweek blurted and Henrietta’s black lips curled in a dark smirk.

“He didn’t try, he did. A few times, actually. Like the others, he was strangled; his hyoid was fractured.” The hyoid, the U shaped bone in the neck that is fractured in one third of strangulation victims.

Tweek shook his head, looking at Pip’s corpse. “What else?” He asked, and Ralph glanced to Henrietta.

“Nothing. He was washed thoroughly, so any substances are gone. I didn’t lift and prints off of his skin, either.”

“What do you think he’s doing with them?” Ralph asked her, and she put the paper down.

“I think he’s doing something intimate. The washing is a very intimate, cleansing thing, it’s done with care; they cared for him very much. The hair was washed and dried, the body doesn’t have any marks other than the strangulation on the throat, and the clothes weren’t his own. I would show you what he was in, but it’s in for evidence.”

“Evidence?” Tweek asked.

“The West Park police came in today, took the evidence away. Sorry, Tweek and Friend.”

Tweek pouted before giving a heavy exhale and reaching out to grab Ralph’s arm. “It’s okay. I’ll take him home now. T-thanks.” He gave a shaky smile to Henrietta and the woman raised a hand in a wave. Ralph waved to her too, but she only gave a quick fingered wave back. Were her and Tweek friends? Ralph would have to ask, because Kenny was in the utmost confusion.

Ralph let himself be pulled out by Tweek and up the steps to the lobby, and he glanced to the smaller blonde.

“So uh, are you guys friends?” He asked.

“S-she and her friends helped me in high school. Jeez, you m-make her sound w-weird.”

“...Sorry. You told her about me and Mysterion?”

“Well of course! Haa… you have to keep an eye on her brother, he’s blonde.”

Right, he was. Kenny would have to make a list of all the male blondes in South Park. He wouldn’t necessarily know who all was still in town, though, since his leaving, so he would have to have Tweek make the list; which wouldn’t be hard, because the blonde was an extreme paranoid.

“Really? Wouldn’t it be best, Tweek, that I have a list of blondes? Then I could scope them out, watch over them, you know.” Ralph glanced to Tweek, pushing open the lobby doors and holding them open for him. The other blonde slipped out, and Ralph let the doors fall shut, walking after him to the truck.

“Me and you.” Tweek said, stepping to he truck and climbing in to the driver’s seat. Ralph climbed into the passenger’s seat and looked at him. “Anyone else?”

“I’ll make a list at home.” Tweek started up the truck and Ralph sat back, putting his hands in the pockets of the jacket Tweek had given him when he first moved in. Their time together totaled to eight months. They had spent five in the other town, in Kenny’s place, because Tweek had been too terrified to go back at the moment. So, in their spare time there, Ralph worked, and Tweek sorted through plans, and what they would do when they went back to South Park. Their time together had built a bond, though, and there was a good amount of trust between them, which pleased Kenny, because he wanted a friend, after being alone for so long, and because it was Tweek, who he had already known in the past. And then the two left back to South Park, and everything was put together. The two had lived together for eight months- long enough to make a baby! Kenny would be pissed if he didn’t get some kind or friendship out of that.

Tweek started driving them back to the house, and Kenny pointed out the window when he saw a police car.

“They’re out, huh?”

“Shit- shit! F-fucking West Park pigs.” Tweek spat and Ralph sniggered. “Yeah, pigs.” It just meant that being Mysterion would be harder at night. He’d have to keep a pretty good distance from people, so he’d have to know exactly where to go to get away if spotted. Tweek wouldn’t want him bringing anyone back to the house, especially cops.

At the house, Kenny got into the shower while Tweek went into his office to make the list, and Kenny relaxed under the hot water. His body still hadn’t gotten used to being in South Park again, and his blood was running cold, and it was torturous. Since the blonde had come back, he had taken to shaving regularly, and brushing his teeth, but he still left himself with a shaggy look, to stay true to the Ralph Coffee persona he had created, who seemed careless and carefree.

The water padded against him in nice ripples, and he sighed deeply, drooping his head under the shorter shower head and letting it soak his hair and drip into his face. He was of average weight, and he was of average looks, and he was just an average person. What would he be like if he had never left South Park? Would he be fat? Skinny? Funny? Social? An introvert? What exactly was he now? Just another nobody.

Kenny swiped a hand down his face, splashing the water from his skin, and he tilted his head up to brush his hair from his face. He closed his eyes, letting the water patter against his face, and he opened his mouth, inviting the heat inside. Then he spat the water out down his chin, and he stepped out from the water to grab the shampoo. He squirted some into his palm and brought it to his sandy hair, and he scrubbed it in. Then he stepped back under the water, and he let the water run over his head until he soap was all gone, and then he grabbed the Dove bar of soap and wiped it across his arms and torso, and then his legs, and he gathered some soap in his hands to go over his other parts. When he was done washing, he stepped out of the shower after shutting off the water, and he dried himself with a green towel.

“Ralph! Ralph!” Tweek’s voice was loud, and Kenny quickly wrapped the towel around his waist so that he could hurry out of the bathroom.

“What? What’s wrong?” He looked around for the other blonde, and he was holding up a paper, coming around the corner, like he didn’t know where Kenny was beforehand.

The smaller blonde furrowed his eyebrows heavily at Ralph, and the man rolled his eyes. “You scared me, you nitwit, what’s wrong?” He turned and went back into the bathroom, because there didn’t look to be any danger, and he shut the door some so that he could peel the towel back off and dress. Tweek stayed outside of the room.

“I-I made the l-list, and it’s sort of a lot of people. W-we won’t be able to save everyone!” Tweek’s panicked energy had him bursting into the door, and it opened some, but the blonde didn’t come in. Kenny shook his head with a roll of his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Tweek, I’m dressing.” The man pulled on his boxers, at least, so that the latter wouldn’t see his nethers. “Okay, so what do you want me to do?” He pulled the door open to look at the blonde, and the other puffed his cheeks, the list crumbled in his hand at his side.

“Find him faster!”

“Dude, I’m trying, I can’t fucking find him, if he hides in his house all the time! We need some more clues, maybe Henrietta missed something-”

“The killer can’t carry the bodies, and he washes them! What more do you need? He must fuck them or something, why else would he wash them? He must be single! He must be small framed! Look better!” Tweek held out the paper and Ralph watched him in frustration. He took the paper and shook his head lightly, uncrumbling it to read it.

There were seven, and that was a lot to look after. The killer also killed children, so Kenny didn’t actually know where to look. The killer could be anywhere. It would be two weeks, though, before the next murder, so he had time to try and figure things out. He folded the paper and looked at Tweek.

“Have you noticed any specific patterns?” He asked, and the smaller blonde narrowed his eyes at him like he had been insulted. “Well, y-yeah, the victims are mostly on this part of town.”

“So, how many on the list does that mark off?”

“...Four, including me. Five, if you count yourself.”

“How often are adults killed than children?”

“...” Tweek hadn’t thought about that. “There’s been four kids, seven teenagers, and five adults; Pip was one.”

Ralph nodded and motioned his hand with the paper. “So, we should keep an eye on the teenagers more, huh?”

“...Maybe. Maybe them and the adults.”

“Alright.” Ralph put the list on the bathroom sink and dressed, and Tweek watched him and huffed. “...Maybe you should look at a place where more people are bound to go. If he kills them every two weeks, then maybe he spies on them- picks them and watches them.” He said, and Ralph nodded. “Alright, I’ll do that.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

The grocery store seemed a good place to scout for blondes, Tweek had decided. Because, for one, they needed some groceries themselves; and two, it’s where everyone of any colored hair went. Once inside, though, Kenny had the idea that the bar would probably be a better place to look, because the grocery store didn’t have many people at all. Least of all, blondes.

Ralph walked down an aisle with a grocery basket draped on his forearm. It was boxed goods and canned food, and he grabbed a box of Hamburger Helper. He flipped it to look at what it was, and he put it back when he saw that it was Lasagna, and he snagged a Double Macaroni Cheeseburger one instead. Then he grabbed one of Crunchy Nacho, and then just a random one. He exhaled deeply and looked back down the aisle. There were no blondes. There were no women. There weren’t even any old people. It was a Tuesday, but really? South Park was deader than before Kenny had left. Would the serial killer still be killing people if Kenny hadn’t left? So many possibilities.

Ralph dropped some canned soups and vegetables into the basket, a few cans of tuna. He breathed through his nose again and shook his head at all of the emptiness in the shop. Would he and Tweek even be able to catch the killer at all?

He went off to another aisle to snag some bread, and when he left there for the checkout counter, the cashier was all too familiar. Clyde Donavon, who Kenny had last ever seen the day before he had faked his death; kissing Tweek under the gym bleachers. What were they now? Kenny hadn’t ever seen him with Tweek these days, and Tweek never, ever talked about him. Or Craig, for that matter.

Ralph put the grocery basket on the edge of the conveyor belt and slowly pulled out each item, placing them on the belt for Clyde to roll to himself. Clyde didn’t look too different; stocky, brown hair, pudgy cheeks that probably brought in the ladies- or men.

“Hello~ Are you new?” Clyde asked, flashing Ralph a grin, and the blonde cleared his throat and gave a little shrug, crying to himself in his head when he saw that Clyde had paused from scanning the items- clearly for room for small talk that was probably going to turn into big talk.

“Eh, yeah, I came in a few months ago.” Ralph said, glancing around the store behind him in search of maybe a customer needing to also check out, but there was no one really, so he would be stuck with Clyde; who was now eyeing Ralph with some look like he recognized him, and he probably did, so Ralph ducked away from the brunette’s view to look at the shelf beside the counter that held magazines.

“Really? You’ve got some mean look man, like, boss.”

“Ha. Thanks, ‘don’t hear that too often.” Ralph kept his gaze from Clyde, looking at the shelf’s merch, praying that Clyde would get the hint that he wanted to leave, and let him.

“You’re that guy who’s been riding places with Tweek!” Clyde’s voice was loud, and Ralph glanced back to the man, who was leaning over the belt to look at him. Damn. What luck.

Ralph laughed and backed away from the shelf and counter some. “Haha, you recognized me, huh? You must be a friend of his?” He rubbed his neck, offering his friendliest smile to Clyde, who hopped off of the counter with a big grin.

“More than a friend, man! We’re best friends! Have been since elementary.” The man had so much pride it hurt Kenny, and Ralph gave a little nod, smiling to Clyde with his thin, lightly freckled cheeks and lips. “Wow, really? Well um, I haven’t heard of any ‘friends from elementary’.” He dropped his hands to his sides to pat his thighs, raising an eyebrow at Clyde when the brunette shook his head and clicked his tongue.

“Well, he’s been hiding out since all this ‘murder the blondes’ stuff, ya know? But really, we’re very tight, if you know what I mean. What’s your name? Got one?” He stretched his arm over the belt and held out his hand. Ralph exhaled deeply in despair and dread and stepped forward to shake the hand.

“I’m Ralph, Ralph Coffee.” He said.

“Hahahaha, that’s a funny name. Must be why he picked you to fuck, huh? ‘Coffee’.” Clyde laughed, and Ralph took his hand back. He had never been so appalled.

“No, no, it’s not like that- I’m just his roommate.” Ralph spoke awkwardly, but Clyde was stuck in his own laughter, and Ralph looked up to the ceiling. God, help me.

“I was just kidding, I was kidding. But hey, tell him I said hi, will you? Tell him to call me some time, or I’ll come over there.” Clyde pointed at Ralph and the blonde nodded, thanking God for answering his prayers. Not really. Ralph motioned to the counter. “Um, do you want to finish checking me out?” He dropped his gaze to the rest of the groceries, and Clyde blinked in confusion before nodding quickly. “Yeah, yeah, sorry!” Clyde grabbed a can to scan, and Kenny thought back to Tweek and the investigation. Tweek always knew best, and if he thought the grocery store was a good place to look at, Kenny would have to get all he could.

“So, Clyde, do you know where would be the best place to go if I were looking for some action?”

“Action? Ha, go down to the bar; they’re in need of more blondes to serve.”


“It’s a joke, man. Because blondes keep dying there?” Clyde raised a thick eyebrow. “You’ve heard, right?”

“Heard what, exactly?” Blondes, dying at the bar? Did Tweek miss a detail?

“Blondes, man! The newer ones have been attendees of the bar! That’s what I’ve heard, at least; who knows if it’s true. But yeah, word is, they’ve been being plucked from Bamcoe’s.”

Ralph blinked a few times, eyebrows knitted together. “What? Bamcoe’s? Don’t you mean Jimbo’s?”

Clyde laughed and put down a can of corn. “What? Dude, there’s a new bar at the other side of town. It’s called Bamcoe’s, been open for a bit. I guess you may not have heard of it, it’s pretty reserved; not much going on with it besides the murders.” He shook his head shamefully and picked the can back up, scanning it and bagging it. A new bar called Bamcoe’s? How had Tweek missed that? If the bar was made a few months ago, Tweek may not have heard of it, because he had left town for a year, and then found Ralph, and then came back, so it was possible that he hadn’t heard of it, but Kenny hadn’t even seen it himself when he went out to patrol as Mysterion.

“Where is this ‘Bamcoe’s’?” Ralph asked.

“Near the end of town on the south. The owner wanted a nice place, quiet, so it’s sort of off the road a little, but when you see it, you see it.” Clyde said and grabbed the last grocery. Ralph started grabbing the bags after putting the basket up, and he stayed in his thoughts. A quiet, reserved club? Who would make that? It sounded like it was made for a serial killer. Who exactly was the owner?

Once Ralph grabbed the last of the bags, he started heading to the doors, but there was a noise from Clyde that made him look back with his pale blue eyes. The brunette man was staring at Ralph, and his face was twisted in confusion.

“I didn’t tell you my name.”

Ralph stood, confused for a moment, processing what Clyde meant by that.

So, Clyde, do you know where would be the best place to go if I were looking for some action?”

The blonde blinked and cleared his throat. He had slipped up. Clyde hadn’t said his name. Ralph laughed and motioned to the cashier, snorting. “It’s on your name tag, man.” He said, and waited for Clyde to look down at himself before rushing out of the store. He quickly headed for Tweek’s truck and tossed the bags into the truck’s bed, remembering about the bread just in time before it was squashed and swinging it back to him for safety. He was quick to hop into the driver’s seat, and he put the bread beside him in the passenger’s. Damn, damn, damn. He didn’t even know if Clyde really had a name tag or not.

“Fuck.” Kenny breathed to himself while driving, and he shook his head for the umpteenth time at his mistake. Damn. The ride hadn’t been too long, and he made it to Tweek’s place after a little while, but he didn’t get out, and he didn’t get the groceries. In just two days, he had 1: been spotted as Mysterion and gotten the West Park police involved in town, 2: had his identity as Mysterion given away to Henrietta, by his eccentric roommate who had gotten him involved in all of this mess, and 3: slipped up to Clyde. How to fix all of this… fake his death again? No, no, he was trying to redeem himself. Damn.

He finally slipped out of the truck with the bread and grabbed the rest of the bags, and he tepped up to the front door.

“Nachos! I meant, Tacos!” He gave the door a little kick, and it peeked open to show Tweek’s green eye, narrowed.

“Don’t you kick my d-door, you lunatic.”

Ralph scoffed. “Lunatic? My hands are full! Let me in, please.” He raised his bagged hands, and Tweek narrowed his eye more before pulling the door open to let the other blonde in.

“Jesus Christ.” Ralph stepped inside and walked passed Tweek to the kitchen so that he could start putting things away. Tweek followed him.

“What did you find? Did you find him? Kill him?”

“We didn’t say anything about kill, and no, I didn’t. Either.” Ralph started pulling the cans out of the bags and putting them on the counter. He sighed, under Tweek’s permanent scrutinizing gaze. “I did, though, get some info from the cashier.”

“Good info?”

“Great info. It might piss you off for not thinking of it first.”

“Give it to me.”

“The guy said that there’s a new bar near the end of town, called Bamcoe’s. Apparently, it’s where some of the blonde victims were before they disappeared. The newer victims.”

Tweek threw a can at the wall and Ralph rolled his eyes, pausing from putting the cans away to look at him. “What ever made that can deserve that?”

“I fucking knew it! I knew it! GAH!” Tweek grabbed another can, but Ralph launched out to grab the blonde’s wrist before he could pull it back for an overthrow. “Dude, calm down, it doesn’t matter who knew first- we have a new break in the case.” Ralph watched Tweek’s wide eyes stare at him for a long time. After a minute or two, Ralph let go of Tweek’s wrist when he thought he was calm.

“I’ll go to the bar tonight and check it out, see what it’s about and who attends, alright?”

The can was thrown, and Tweek’s hands flew up to his hair. “This is all crazy!” He screamed in utter frustration, and Ralph groaned deeply to himself. He slid the cans away from Tweek’s reach. Again, Tweek had inherited the house; where did he learn how to treat gifts?

“Actually, I saw a guy who told me to tell you hi.” Ralph said in hopes of calming Tweek down. The other blonde froze, probably in fear of who said person was. A killer? A stalker? Dad?

“A guy named Clyde. He told me about the bar, and told me to say for you to call him, or he’d stop by. Quote, quote.”

“I fucking hate Clyde.” Tweek dug his fingers into his hair and gave a very, very low groan, and Ralph blinked. Weren’t they friends? Hell, didn’t he see them kiss? Where was Craig?

“He’s a lunatic.” Tweek grumbled, scratching his scalp in irritation, and Ralph reached over to tap his shoulder.

“Okay, okay, well, I don’t think any of this is a valid reason to scalp yourself. Just saying. You’re the brains, I’m the muscle- I can’t have you falling apart, huh? After you brought me into this.” Ralph said softly and gave Tweek a reassuring smile, because Tweek was a sad person, and Kenny had grown up with him. He had reason to care- Tweek was one of the things tying him back to South Park; the thing that told him how he could come back from his infra dig remembrance plan.

Tweek’s white fingers slipped from his hair and he fell forward, causing Kenny to bump into the kitchen table and bring forth his strength to catch Tweek when the blonde fell against him, his face burying into the man’s chest. Ralph wrapped his arms around Tweek to comfort the smaller man in a hug, but he didn’t hug him back or anything, just kept his face buried in Ralph’s cold chest.

Ralph pat Tweek’s back, exhaling and looking at the kitchen’s door frame beyond them. Tweek didn’t want to die, it was as simple as that. Kenny hated dying, but he knew what it felt like to die, and he understood why Tweek didn’t want to. Tweek couldn’t come back to life if he died. And, from what Kenny had grown to know, after death, there was nothing. No one cried for you on your birthday anymore, after a time. No one came to your grave, anymore. Life continued, and people moved on. It was how things happened. Tweek didn’t want to die and be forgotten. The dead blondes that he and Kenny didn’t save; Pip, Gary Harrison, Thomas- they would all be forgotten eventually. Kenny wouldn’t let anyone else suffer like that; he couldn’t.

“Tweek, help me put the groceries away.”


Tweek didn’t go with Ralph to Bamcoe’s. He would had, but it was the place where apparently, the blondes had been being picked, so Ralph told him to stay home and rest. Clyde was right about the place though; it was hidden some, but once you found it, you found it. The bar was bright. It had neon lights, and it looked popular, because there were people flooded outside, laughing. There were blonde men, too. Didn’t they know it was dangerous? Then again, though, Ralph was also blonde, and he was going in.

Inside was big and flooded, too. It was even brighter, and there was booming music. What sort of place was this? No wonder South Park was empty- everyone was here. Ralph slipped between people to try and get to a spot where he could oversee the attendees, but there were just too many people for him to be able to do anything. There were blondes everywhere, natural, bleached. He shook his head and cursed. Tweek had gotten the idea that maybe the victims were getting older: something drew the killer to kill kids, and then to move on to teenagers, and now, they had moved on to adults. More specifically: Kenny and Tweek’s age group. Kenny was twenty seven, Tweek was twenty five, Pip had been twenty four going on twenty five, Thomas was twenty six, and Gary Harrison had been twenty eight. Kenny should check on Butters. Butters wasn’t the club scene kind of guy, though, so maybe he was fine. It wasn’t like Kenny could go to his house and knock and ask if everything was okay; he was Ralph Coffee now, because of a stupid teenage spur of the moment idea. Butters was still active online, though, so Kenny didn’t have to worry too hard yet.

There wasn’t anything that Kenny could work off of in the club; people were just having fun, and there was an occasional fight that would break out, but it would be dealt with before anything too bad happened, and the people would leave on their own behalf. Was the killer someone who picked up blondes for a ‘night together’? Did they use the lie that they needed help, and lure the victims out with them to their car? If the killer was weak enough to not be able to carry the bodies, and the club was at the end of town, and the bodies were inside town, then the killer must have a vehicle of some sort, maybe newer, to help him lure in his victims; if that’s how they did it. Maybe the killer just snagged them outside and pulled them to their car. Again, though, they weren’t too strong, so if they subdued anyone, they would need a method to help them get the victim under control: chloroform, maybe a sleeper hold, maybe just a really good hit on the head. Who was this guy, and why was he even targeting so many people? Was it even a man? A woman- it could be a woman.

Ralph pulled out his phone to text Tweek. He would call him, but he told him to rest, and he just didn’t want to distract him by a phone call.

Ralph: Hey, you awake?

Tweek: Always. Diiid you find himm,?

Ralph: No, but I just had a massive brain fart. If the killer can’t carry the victims, what’s to say that it’s not a woman? He drags them, cleans them, I think he maybe tricks them into going home with him- all things that a woman could do too. women are naturally trustworthy.

Ralph made his way through the crowd to find a wall to lean against and wait for Tweek’s reply, which took a long moment.

Tweek: -maybe. How is rthe search

Ralph: Not too particularly good. This place is so stuffed it’s like being eaten by a turkey. There are literally blondes everywhere and it’s not like theres one specific person eyeing them all down. they’re like the main attraction, /everyone’s/ on them. I’m at a loss.

Ralph: I really can’t tell who’s looking at them to fuck them and who’s looking at them to kill them.

Ralph puffed and Tweek took a long time to reply. Before he did reply, though, Ralph glanced off and blinked. Off in the distance, he could see two familiar heads, black and red, and he mouthed to himself. What? Kyle and Stan?

He stuffed his phone into his pocket and pushed off of the wall to make his way to the two, ignoring the vibrate of his phone getting a new message. It was understood why Stan would be in a bar, or a club, but Kyle? Ralph slipped his way through people to head to the two, and Stan must have said something funny, because Kyle laughed, and it was beautiful. But then Kyle looked off to the side, and his jade eyes met Ralph’s blue, and the blonde spun around to look elsewhere so that he wouldn’t be seen as a stalker. He had seen Kyle twice since his funeral thirteen years ago. Once, in the woods, when they introduced themselves, and another time when Kenny was Mysterion and Kyle had thought him to be the killer. What about now? Would he just seem like a creep, now? He was terrible at all of this ‘normal’ stuff. Hell, Kyle could have thought that he was trying to kidnap that Johnny kid. Approaching the two seemed like a terribly idiot idea, now that he thought about it. He didn’t even know what he wanted to do; just stalk them? Maybe he really was a stalker.

He glanced back after a moment, when he thought that just maybe, Kyle would be looking away, but he only saw Stan, sitting alone, and he blinked. Did I scare him away?

“You.” Kyle’s sudden voice made Ralph jump, and he looked behind him. The redhead was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed, and lips tight. He looked pissed. Ralph cleared his throat and gave a little wave, turning fully to the redhead. “Well, hi… Lyle?”

Kyle, you asswipe.”

Ralph was a goner. He had somehow made Kyle hate him. What would he do now? Wallow in misery and despair when he got home?

Kyle, sorry about that. You uh… what are you doing in a place like this? Aren’t you a teacher?”

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you new? This place is for regulars.”

“Wait, so, you’re a regular?”

Kyle glared his jade eyes at Ralph, and the blonde swallowed. He glanced back to Stan’s direction, and he was gone now, too. Ralph sighed and held out a hand. “I’m sorry, can we redo this whole thing? I’m Ralph Coffee, and I really don’t mean to catch you off guard, or make you hate me; I’m really just a nice guy.” He huffed, and Kyle looked at the hand but didn’t take it.

“Blonde men are bad luck, you should know that already.”

“Um… I do, I’m just… trying to get to know more people, you know? It’s a new town, and I’ll be living here for a while.”

“Kyle! Where’d ya go? I was looking for you!” Stan’s voice sounds, and he tosses an arm around Kyle’s shoulders. He looks buzzed, but still the same as he used to, black hair, handsome. His blue eyes look to Ralph, and he smiles big. “Hey, man, who are you?”

“He’s no one-”

“Ralph Coffee. I’m uh, new to town. Sort of. Three months new.” Ralph turned his hand to Stan, and the noirette laughed happily and shook it. “Wow, a newbie? Well hey, I’m Stan Marsh, and he’s Kyle Broflovski.” Stan introduced, and Ralph gave a smile. Stan took his hand back to motion to Kyle, and he spoke more. “Sorry if Kyle’s mean, he hates this place and blondes, but my girlfriend made him my ‘designated drinking watcher’, so I don’t get too drunk.” He laughed, and it made Ralph grin because he found it funny, but when he glanced to Kyle, Kyle was looking away in annoyance.

“You’ve got something against blondes?” Ralph asked Kyle, and the redhead glanced to him.

“I despise them. Especially ones like you.”

“Like me? What’s that mean?”

“Oh, he doesn’t mean anything, Ralph, he’s Jewish, and the blondes were superior, you know.” Stan said smugly.

“That is not what I mean, Stan, and you know it, you asshole. I think it’s time you go home.” Kyle glared at Stan, but the noirette rolled his eyes.

“Kyle’s normally a nice guy, Ralph. So much so, that I’m gonna leave you two here to get acquainted.” Stan grinned to the two before turning back around, Kyle watching him like he was the biggest shit on the planet. And then those eyes looked to Ralph, and the blonde swallowed. “...Hi.”

“...I don’t want to be your friend, but I feel like you want something from me. What?” Kyle uncrossed his arms to stuff his hands in his pockets, and Ralph cleared his throat. Kyle looked sexy sassy. Well, with his red lips pursed, and his eyes narrowed in a questioning glare, and the way his bunch of hair framed his face and his pale thin neck.

“I… think I do want to be your friend.” Ralph spoke, and Kyle rolled those beautiful jade eyes. “I mean, you seem interesting, and… sad.” The other words made Kyle glare at Ralph again, but he was right. Kyle looked sad, and from what he had felt as Mysterion, he was thin. He was also the only one not on social media, like the others.

“Too bad you’re blonde.” Kyle clicked his tongue and turned to leave, but Ralph grabbed hooked his fingers around Kyle’s elbow, and the redhead looked back to him in sassy shock, which meant that he probably thought he could just leave Ralph wallowing.

“What are you-”

“You hate blondes, I get it. Could I ask you a friendly question, then?”


Ralph didn’t say anything, waiting for Kyle to be respectful and turn fully to him, and once the redhead did, Ralph went ahead with his words. “Do you know anything about the murders?”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “All I know, is that the more it happens, the more students I lose. I’ve lost more to homeschooling and moving, than murder.” Kyle paused after speaking, thinking, and then he looked at Ralph. “Why do you want to know?”

“I just… Can’t I worry? I’m blonde.” Ralph laughed, and Kyle’s expression softened. “...Mm. I’ll see you later, Ralph; Stan needs to go home.”

Chapter Text

When Ralph got home, Tweek let him in and lay back down on the couch. He looked solemn, lips tight, body stiff, eyes staring at the ceiling. Ralph furrowed his eyebrows.

“...You okay, Tweek?” He asked, stepping further into the house. He stayed at the club for two more hours after Kyle and Stan left, but he really didn’t see anyone suspicious. Tweek only glanced at Ralph before looking up to the ceiling, his lips still tight.

...Had Ralph messed up somewhere again?

The man glanced around the room, but nothing was really different, so he stepped to his bedroom, because he didn’t want to get yelled at or be the venting toy for Tweek, but he was too slow; Tweek called his name, so he stopped walking and looked to the other blonde. He couldn’t see him because he was on the other side of the couch and the back hid him because he was still laying down.

“...Yeah?” Ralph asked, waiting.

“Clyde came by.”

“...Clyde… friend Clyde? Like, the cashier?”

“Yeah, Friend Clyde.”


“That’s it,” Tweek said, and Ralph was utterly confused. Tweek didn’t say anything more, so the man slowly stepped to his room and went fully inside when Tweek stayed silent. Tweek was his friend, but he didn’t want to press. If Tweek wanted to tell him, he would. But, maybe he should press. Did Clyde mention something about Ralph’s slip up? Did he lecture Tweek about having a stranger live with him?

Ralph sat on his bed and sighed. He needed to make dinner, but Tweek looked in a bad mood, so maybe he should just open some soup cans. Either way, he was hungry, but he didn’t want to cook just for himself. Maybe Tweek needed some alone time, maybe Ralph should go out as Mysterion. He really didn’t feel motivated, though. The next murder would be in eleven days; Tweek couldn’t expect him to work the whole entire time- it was exhausting. Maybe they both just needed to take a break, because obviously, neither were getting anywhere.

He pulled off his coat and sweater and put them on the bed beside him. He’d made up his mind: make Tweek coffee, take a shower, check on Tweek later, and go to bed. It was already late anyway, and there was nothing that Mysterion could look for, because he just didn’t know where to look. There was Bamcoe’s, though, that he could check out, but he hated the idea of going out. But, the thought hit him to, so he probably would. Alright, part two of making up mind: make Tweek coffee, get a snack, go out to Bamcoe’s as Mysterion.

Kenny sighed. Damn.

He stood back up from the bed and left his room for the kitchen to start some coffee. The pot still had some warm coffee in it, so Kenny poured that into a cup for himself, and took to putting fresh coffee in the filter. He rinsed the pot, filled it with water, dumped the water into the back of the coffee machine, and then put the pot back on the burner. He clicked the button and snagged up his own cup of coffee, then he headed into the living room to peer at the couch. Tweek was still laying there, hands crossed over his stomach and eyes closed. He wasn’t asleep, though.

“Tweek, I put on some coffee. I’m gonna go out as Mysterion and give that club a better look around.” Ralph said, and Tweek peeked an eye open to look at him.


“Okay.” Ralph drank from his cup, because the conversation pretty much ended there, when Tweek closed his eye again. There was something up with him.

“How did the visit go?” He asked after swallowing his coffee, and Tweek sighed .

“I told you, I hate Clyde.”

“Well… why? Seemed nice enough to me.”

Tweek laughed, and it sounded bitter. “Trust me, he’s not. Do you want to go out tonight?” Tweek looked at Ralph, and the other blonde shrugged and rubbed his neck, because he didn’t want to, but he had figured that Bamcoe’s is probably hiding something, or there is a big clue there, so he should go.

“You don’t have to go. You can stay.” He added, and Ralph blinked, shocked. Tweek Tweak, eccentric blonde with a phobia of being murdered, was telling Ralph that he could stay home ? That was like your boss giving you a break thirteen years into a shitty job.

“Um, it’s okay, I think it would be good to look there. Someone there must know something, or there must be evidence-”

“Sorry I offered.” Tweek rolled his eyes away from Ralph and he turned on the couch to lay on his side, to face his back to the other man, and Ralph was seriously taken away. What the hell was going on? The idea of leaving made him feel guilty, but it was a good lead, but Tweek was his friend. He scratched his head in annoying confusion before slowly turning and leaving back to the kitchen. He finished his coffee and put the cup in the sink, then he grabbed a cup for Tweek’s coffee and put it next to the machine. He grabbed two cans of soup and poured them into a small sauce pot and started heating it on the stove.

Tweek was like a moody teenager; a very moody teen. Something about Clyde was bothering him, probably, so what exactly did Clyde do? Sure, he was an idiot, and sort of pervy, but he and Tweek were supposed to be friends. Tweek was just as alone as Kenny, though, so maybe he was also trying to distance himself from old friends. The thing about that, though, was that Kenny was wanting to reintegrate himself in his friends’ lives. He wanted to be friends with Stan again, and joke and laugh with Butters, and he had even felt a longing for Kyle; maybe a crush. Not maybe- he knew he liked Kyle. He sort of liked Kyle since the fifth grade.

He shook his head clear of thinking and grabbed a spoon to stir the soup. Finally he grabbed two bowls to put on the counter. Tweek rarely cooked. He seemed to only know how to make coffee and freak out.

Ralph waited for the soup to get hot before pouring it into the bowls, and after snagging another spoon, he grabbed the bowls and left to the living room. Tweek was still laying on the couch and this time he looked like he was actually falling asleep.

Ralph said Tweek’s name to wake him up and the younger blonde looked at him. Ralph held out a bowl to Tweek, the more full one, and the blonde sat up to take it. Ralph took his own with him to sit in a different seat and he started eating because it was nice and hot and his body was cold. Twelve years away from South Park in a hot town really changed your blood. He truly felt like he was another person. Maybe he’d spend his whole life as Ralph Coffee. It was an unappealing thought, but it seemed the more likely one to happen.

The two ate in silence for a long time, to the point where Ralph had finished his food and was sitting back in his seat because his belly was hot and full. Then Tweek spoke up again.

“Have you ever d-dated anyone?” He asked, and it made Ralph smile with a huff, because his love life was almost nonexistent since his days as Kenny. He shook his head. “No, not really.” He replied, because he had to be honest with himself. He had only one-night-stands and those were in the other town, when he would find a girl at the bar. Or occasional guy. He didn’t like to think of himself as bisexual, because he loved women, but some men were just a lot more… pretty? “Why?” He asked and looked at Tweek, and the younger just ate.

“I was just wondering.”

Ralph sighed. He was getting tired of this ‘just wondering’, like when they first met, when Tweek asked his name but didn’t give his, or the time when Tweek asked him about his family but didn’t say anything in return. Ralph didn’t have any family, though. Kenny’s was still doing good, from the looks of it on social media. Kevin was a mechanic down south, and Karen was living with a boyfriend. He didn’t know about his parents, but he didn’t really mind it too much. He did, though, mind Tweek.

“Well, Just Wondering, what about you? Date anyone?” Ralph leaned forward to put his bowl on the dining table, and Tweek looked like he wanted to end it there, but Ralph wouldn’t let him because Tweek needed to learn to finish his conversations. “Come on, it’s just us.” He added and smiled to the blonde, whose green eyes narrowed at him. He took a bite of his soup and didn’t say anything. Ralph sat back in his seat again and crossed his arms. “We’re partners, man, let’s get along. Tell me something about yourself, anything.” It was only fair, because Tweek told Henrietta that he was Mysterion. It was only fair because Tweek was asking and receiving everything, but Kenny wasn’t allowed to know anything of the latter. Tweek crossed his legs on the couch and gave a single shouldered shrug, looking at his soup.

“Yeah. Everyone has. You must be a weirdo if you h-haven’t.”

Ralph scoffed. “I am not, I just... never had time. You know me, I was always working.” He said, and Tweek’s face showed that he did know, and he nodded because it was true. Ralph worked a lot in the other town, and Tweek was left alone in his place until he got back and not once did he find anything to show a lover; no undergarments, no extra toothbrush, no fresh ingredients in the fridge. He didn’t even have a pet. Tweek had a pet bird before he ran from South Park, but he had let it go to be safe. It’s name was Tweet.

“I… dated Clyde once. He keeps pressing for another relationship.” Tweek said, stirring his soup, watching the broth circle. Ralph quirked an eyebrow.

“Is that what he came here for?”

“Yeah. We broke up senior year of highschool, but he’s an idiot who won’t leave me alone. I mean, he did for a time, but I guess seeing you, he started being stupid again.” Tweek said. Ralph bit his cheek. Really, Clyde? No one really knew where Tweek’s house was, so how did Clyde find it? Did Tweek tell him where it was once?

“Sorry for uh, stirring up his feelings.” Ralph laughed some, awkwardly, and he uncrossed his arms to rub his neck. Tweek glanced at him before looking back to his soup.

“Whatever, you’re just bad luck.”

Ralph scoffed. “Bad luck? How am I bad luck?” He already heard it from Kyle, he didn’t need to hear it from Tweek. Said asshole shrugged and took a bite of his soup.

“You just s-seem like it. If you were good luck, we would have already found the k-killer.”

“It’s not necessarily my fault that the killer is still loose, man, I mean the police are out. You know how difficult police make things.”

“It’s not too difficult to work around them. Henrietta has. She’s been sneaking some bits of evidence from the hospital.”

“What evidence , Tweek? At this rate, we should just give up- there’s no way we can catch this guy before another murder. Hell, we’ll need another murder to give us some more clues!”

“It’s not that fucking hard, Ralph: the guy is weak, he kidnaps people from Bamcoe’s apparently, strangles them at home, fucks and washes them, and then dumps them. They’re all blonde . Look for someone who obsesses over blondes!”

Ralph shook his head. “It’s hard, Tweek! And who ever said that he fucks them? And he could be she !”

“Why do people wash bodies? To wash away evidence. It’s also a way of cleansing - he/ she probably strangles them, tries to resuscitate them, and washes them to purify them of the disgusting shit they did.”

“But they weren’t raped !”

“You don’t have to be penetrated to be raped, Ralph. Women raping men has nothing to do with penetrating them . Are you stupid, or what?”

Ralph groaned loud and moved to stand from the seat. He snagged up his empty bowl from the table. “Dude, I’m going to bed.”

“It’s not hard, Ralph. They’re being raped and strangled and resuscitated. Just try putting things together.” Tweek said and sighed heavily, but Ralph was already annoyed and left to the kitchen to put the bowl in the sink. On his way to his room, he told Tweek to not forget his coffee, and then he took to grabbing some boxers and sweats for a shower before bed.

Once he got into bed, though, he got right back up and snagged his Mysterion suit.


It was peaceful outside. Once he was out his bedroom window, he had taken to walking in the dark, in the safety of trees’ shadows. Bamcoe’s was going to be a very long walk.

Following the road would be the slowest way to get there, and it would even be risky, because the police were out. Mysterion could see a patrol car on the road, driving slow; scoping for anything out of the ordinary.

Mysterion kept to the trees, though, and there was a small path that he came across after a while. It wasn’t too hidden of a path, maybe made from hunters walking it so many times: the snow was patchy and the leaves were brushed aside. The ground was dead with crisp dirt; too much walking over it had worn it down into a natural path. Either way, it was a good distance from the main road.

The hero followed the path until it came to a small turn, where he kept going straight. The wood’s flooring became bumpy and lively again with some snow and leaves, some patchy grass. Mysterion walked along the forest until there was a faint lighting through the thin trees, and he changed course for it.

It was Bamcoe’s, further off. Mysterion had found a shortcut to it. He walked briskly to get out of the woods, and he headed down a small slope of snow to descend to the club. The light was a street light, on the corner of the property near the road, where it turns off into the the highway to the other Parks. Other than that, Bamcoe’s was completely dark, almost a mere shadow in the woods.

Mysterion walked up to a window on the side of the building and knelt down. He felt the ground for a rock and straightened again, put his cape against the window before smashing the rock against it. His cape muffled the shatter some, and he flicked it clean of any glash shards and dropped the rock to the ground, where it landed in some snow. He reached inside the hole in the window and pulled the lock, unlocking it before slipping his hand out and pushing the window open. Then he grabbed his flashlight from his belt and climbed inside.

It was dark inside, but clean, nonetheless. Kenny still didn’t know who owned the place, or rather, who ran it. Being here earlier as Ralph, though, let him get a general idea of the club’s layout, so he went passed the tables and bar stools to the Staff Only, where he went inside.

Through the swinging doors was a hallway with some unmarked rooms, where Mysterion peeked inside. Some were storage, two just...empty, and one was the manager's room. Walking to the desk in the center of the room, Mysterion pulled the rolling chair out and sat in it, twirling in a little circle in the soft leather.

“If I were a secret..where would I hide?” he drawled to himself and sighed, closing his eyes as the chair slowed its spin to a gradual stop.

He opened his eyes and he was facing the wall, where there was a shelf with books. He shook his head and spun the chair again, closing his eyes.

Opening his eyes after the chair stopped again, he was facing a tin trash can. He sighed again and shrugged before leaning forward and digging his gloved hands into the can. Digging in the trash, there were cigarettes and some ash, and some crumpled papers. One paper was torn in half, and Mysterion snagged it up to look at it. It wasn't a paper, though, rather, a photograph.

It was someone's torso, flat chested with a light sweater on over them. The head was gone, missing with the other half of the photo, taking away and sense of identity for Mysterion. Who was it?

He flipped the photograph over and looked at the back, but it held nothing, just a blank slate.

“Damn.” Mysterion stuffed the photo into his boot and rolled the chair to the side some, to the drawers that the desk held at its right.

There were just some files and bills, nothing conclusive. The top drawer though, was locked.

On top of the desk, there were scattered papers, of work and other things, buy more importantly, there was a photo in a frame. Of Betsy Donovan. Was Roger Donovan, Clyde's dad, the owner of Bamcoe's?

Standing from the chair, Mysterion pushed it back into the desk and stood, turning and leaving the room. Walking down the hallway, he pushed through the swing doors and headed back to the window. He had forgotten to close it, so it was still open. He silently cursed himself and climbed through, closing it after. Then he turned and-


There was a heavy collision with his head, and he crumpled to the ground.

Chapter Text

“No, he hasn’t come home yet,” Tweek spoke into his phone, standing in the doorway of Kenny’s room and looking at the empty bed.

“You’re sure he went out in his suit? I mean, maybe he’s out… doing whatever it is he does.” Henrietta popped a bubble of gum into the phone, that made Tweek jump. He frowned.

“He is in his suit, because that is what he does. A-and because it’s not even here!” He entered the room to fling open the closet doors, as if to show Henrietta, but she wasn't there. The suit wasn’t either, though.

Henrietta sighed into the phone. “I don’t know what you want me to do, buddo. Should I drive around and look for him? Get out of my cozy bed for Mysterion , of all people?”

Tweek gave a loud exclamation. “I don’t know! I don’t know where he is!” He went to Ralph’s bed and flopped onto it, on his butt. He pouted at the floor. “I’ve been calling him and texting him, but he hasn’t replied,” he mumbled.


“Don’t- don’t move,” Kyle tried stilling Mysterion as he thrashed in his hold, his head bleeding profusely.

“Where am I?” Mysterion breathed, his vision hazy and his body heavy. He had just woken up and his thoughts were scattered. He couldn’t even process what he had been doing before, because his head was spinning. He couldn’t think a single thing. He hadn’t even meant to speak.

“What? Where are you?” Kyle huffed and shook his head, his fingers slick in blood as he held Mysterion’s blonde head, the wound pulsing out crimson with each breath he took.

“You’re in front of South Park Elementary, now be quiet. Um… try getting up.” Kyle moved a hand away from Mysterion’s head, but a stream of blood gushed from the wound, spilling through his blonde hair and soaking the snow beneath them.

“Oh my god,” Kyle put his hand back to the wound and looked at the school. He could take the vigilante inside, but the blood would make a mess. He sighed and looked at Mysterion’s face, his skin pale and eyes darting. He had calmed in Kyle’s grip, but he seemed to be falling back into unconsciousness.

Mysterion groaned and lifted a shaky arm, gripping Kyle’s shoulder with his gloved fingers. He looked like he was going to talk again, but Kyle stopped him by speaking first.

“You need to stop, you’re hurting yourself,” he said and tried covering more of the wound, but it seemed to be pointless. There was a chunk of Mysterion’s head missing, like something had hit him and pulled it away. Kyle’s fingers were slipping into the wound, and he could feel the mush of torn flesh that revealed a piece of fragmented skull.

Mysterion’s grip softened and Kyle shook his head, looking into pale blue, dilated eyes.

“Don’t… don’t-” Kyle pressed his lips together and shook his head again. Mysterion’s eyes fixed on Kyle and his hand fell from the redhead’s shoulder, back to the snow. His breathing quickened, coming out in quick, shallow bursts.

And then it stopped.

Kyle watched Mysterion’s eyes before leaning down to put his ear near the blonde’s mouth.

There were no breaths.


“Goddammit.” Mysterion sat up in the snow and stretched his muscles, taking a deep breath. He felt refreshed, but he was cold.

“Damn woods,” he grumbled and stood up, dusting himself of the chill. He looked around at the woods of Stark’s Pond, where he would… respawn, so to speak. He hadn’t really died since his fake death, and thinking back to how he had just died, he cringed.

Was he going to die again? He sure as hell didn’t want to.

Kyle. He had died in Kyle’s arms. At the school...

“Fuck!” The blonde reached up and clutched his hood, glaring at the snow.

The killer had gotten him at Bamcoe’s, after he discovered two things. 1: a torn photograph of a child, and 2: a framed photograph of Clyde’s mom, Betsy.

Whoever attacked him had to have been either Clyde of his father, it had to have! Who else would be at Bamcoe’s after hours?

Kenny had to get back home. Since the sun was out, it must at least be early morning.

Mysterion gave a low exhale and pulled out his phone to call Tweek. He sighed when he saw the missed calls and text messages. Tweek would be furious. Hopefully distraught, but more likely to be furious.

He had to call again for the other blonde to answer.

“Ralph! Where are you? Where have you been?” Tweek’s voice was very loud in the phone, and Mysterion sighed and glanced around.

“Stark’s Pond. I’ll tell you when you get here, but bring me a change of clothes; I don’t want to be seen in the open.”

Argh !” Tweek hung up the phone and Mysterion sat back down in the snow to wait. Then he deemed it too cold to sit in and stood back up, walking to a tree to lean against it.

He knelt down to reach into his boot and pull out the torn photograph, and he looked it over again.

It was a school photo, with the typical blue background. Whoever it was was either an adult/child male, or a female child; Kenny could determine from the lack of breasts. However long their hair, it didn’t go down to their shoulders, because it was torn away with the face.

What a mess.

Mysterion slipped the photograph back into his boot and waited for Tweek.

It was about ten minutes before Tweek arrived in the truck, snow flying from the quick tires as it slid into the forest and swerved to a stop in the trees before Mysterion.

The tall blonde pushed off of the tree with a roll of his eyes. Tweek was having a fit. His anger had helped him maneuver into the trees that he wasn’t supposed to park in, but it wouldn’t help him maneuver back out . Tweek was shit with anything that involved backing up.

“Hey, I-” Mysterion started speaking to Tweek when the blonde climbed out of the truck, walking over to him, but he was cut off when Tweek surprisingly slapped him.

It didn’t hurt, at all. It was more shocking than anything, and Mysterion put his hand to his cheek. He gave a little scoffed chuckle of amazement, but Tweek didn’t let him do anything else beyond that. The smaller blonde pointed at Mysterion, a frown on his face.

“Get in, be quiet, and don’t slam my damn door.”



Mysterion huffed through his nose and walked to the truck, climbing into it. He shut the door nicely. Once inside, he grabbed the folded clothes in the middle seat and started changing into them, struggling just a bit with the confined space.

Tweek climbed into the truck when Ralph was putting on his pants, and he put the truck in reverse.

The truck moved back and forth a total of five times before Tweek managed to get it between a set of trees. Then it sat there for a long moment, burning fuel, and Ralph looked at Tweek when he started putting his shirt on.

The smaller blonde’s eyes were narrowed and he was biting his lip. He held the steering wheel tight, keeping his foot on the brakes to keep the truck in place. Then he asked, “Which way to I turn the wheel to back up left?”

Ralph laughed. “Uh, left?” He pulled his shirt over his head and down his torso.

Tweek turned the wheel left and the truck backed up. Then Tweek stomped on the brakes and Ralph lurched forward, smacking his elbow on the dash.

“Ow! Tweek!”

“I meant right! Which way to go right?!”

“Right, man! Jeez, how the hell did you pass your driver’s test?”

“With style! Now be quiet!” Tweek put the car in drive so that he could edge up from the tree he had almost smacked into, and then he put it back in reverse and went right, where there was a small clearing he could go through. Then he put the gear back in drive and managed to get them out of the woods.

Ralph didn’t speak. Tweek drove back to the house and the ride was silent, because he didn’t like the radio, and because he didn’t like Ralph right now.

He pulled out his phone so that he could see the time, and he shook his head when he saw that it was almost seven a.m. He sighed and Tweek glared at him through the rearview mirror, so he rolled his eyes. A truck for a prison, and a coffee freak as a warden.

After the silent drive, Tweek parked at the house. Ralph had some ideas for some puns, but when he glanced at Tweek, the blonde was already looking at him with eyes that said “don’t”.

The two clambered out of the truck and walked to the front door, and Tweek pulled out his keys to open the house. He had a total of nine keys on his key ring, but he only ever used two. What the others were for, Kenny didn’t know.

Click .

They walked inside but Tweek stopped Kenny by holding out an arm, blocking him from continuing into the house.

Ralph sighed.

“Tweek, I-”

“Are you hurt?” Tweek asked, and Ralph blinked and looked at him.


Tweek grabbed Ralph lightly at his elbow and Ralph could see his green eyes looking him over. His expression looked soft now.

Ah.. que the distress Kenny wanted.

Ralph cleared his throat. “Well, I uh.. sort of have a kink in my neck.”

“Don’t play around, I’m serious.” Tweek shoved Ralph, but not hard, and the taller blonde motioned.

“Alright, alright. I got knocked out at Bamcoe’s, but I doubt it left a mark,” he said and Tweek let him go to walk to the couch. The small blonde waved him over.

“Well come and sit, let me look.”

Ralph exhaled through his nose because he knew it was pointless, but he walked over anyway. After sitting on the couch, Tweek stood over him and started sifting through his dark blonde locks, looking for any signs of a wound or blood.

It felt nice, being looked over like this.

“I was worried,” Tweek said. “How long were you...knocked out? Just before calling me? And how’d you end up at Stark’s Pond?” he ran his fingers over Ralph’s head to feel for any bumps.

Ralph sighed and shrugged. “I uh, don’t know how I ended up there. Maybe they thought I would freeze or something, I don’t know. But yeah, I was out until I called you.”

The truth was that he had respawned at Stark’s Pond, which was where he always respawned. The odd thing? He remembered Kyle telling him he was dying in front of the school. Why would the killer dump him off at the school? ...Who was the person behind the assault? Clyde or his father?

“Ralph-” Tweek was going to say something, but there was a knock at the door that cut him off. “Well who is that?” He slipped his fingers from Ralph’s hair and walked to the front door.

“Ew, it’s Kyle,” he said after peeking out of the window beside the door, and Ralph blinked and looked over.


“I said “Ew, it’s-”

“I know, but… here?”

Tweek shrugged and grabbed the doorknob. “He’s here, all right,” he said flatly.

“What do you want?” he called out, opening the door just enough to peek out. Kyle said something muffled and Ralph walked to the window to look outside.

Kyle was wearing a heavy coat with his hands in his pockets, and he bounced his leg quickly, looking like he was impatient. He looked good, though. His cheeks were pink from cold nips, and his eyes glassy from the chilly breezes.

He looked… Ralph couldn't really place how he looked.

“You need my truck?” Tweek asked, and Kyle nodded quickly.

“My car just broke down and I need to get to the school, class starts in fifteen minutes,” the redhead said, but Tweek’s expression didn't change.

“Why would I give you my truck?”

“Tweek, I'm a teacher in a small as town, there aren't any substitutes,” Kyle stomped his foot on the porch in frustration, and Ralph had enough. He grabbed Tweek and moved him to the side, and then he motioned to Kyle.

“How far your car?”

Kyle's whole demeanor faltered, but he quickly regained himself, slowly pointing off.

“... It's about twenty minutes away, why?”


“He's a mechanic, if it's any of your business,” Tweek blurted through tight lips, his eyes narrowed and arms crossed.

Ralph rolled his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, that. We'll go there in the truck and I'll see if I can fix it,” he said, Kyle's eyes never straying from him.



“Your transmission is out. Do you have any fluid?” Ralph asked and looked at Kyle, who was leaning against the car and watching the blonde.

He shook his head.

“No, I don't do those types of things.”

“Hahaha you don't believe in car care?”


“...Oh,” Ralph cleared his throat. “Well, you can't drive it.” He shut the good and Kyle narrowed his eyes at him.

“Why not?”

“Uh, did you see the smoke earlier? That's why. If you fuck it up any more, you're gonna need a new transmission,” Ralph snorted. Kyle just watched him with his narrowed eyes.

“I need to get to school,” he said and Ralph shrugged.

“Alright, I can drive you. Come on, it's cold.” He reached out to grab Kyle's arm, but the redhead moved away, his eyes on the blonde.

“Don't touch me.”

“...Alright, sorry,” Ralph blinked and pressed his lips together before clearing his throat. “Does uh, that mean you don't like me? Like, at the club, you really just don't like me?” He gave a small chuckle in awkwardness. Kyle slipped a hand into his pocket.

“I… don't trust things that don't make sense,” he said and pulled out something purple. Ralph knew what it was. It was his mask. Mysterion’s mask. He opened his mouth to make up a lie, but Kyle didn't let him speak.

“South Park inhabits weird things. Such weird things that whatever this is probably isn't that bad. I won't tell anyone, but I want to know: why are you here when you died in my arms last night… Mysterion?” Kyle's pale fingers held the mask lightly and Ralph stood silently.

He forced a laugh. “Y-you think I'm Mysterion? Why would I do that? I'm not even from here,” he tried lightening the tenseness from his body, but his gut was still heavy.

Kyle brought his hand back so that he could cross his arms, still holding the purple cloth.

“I don't know, you tell me. I got this from your truck, and I know it's not Tweek's. Who exactly are you, Ralph?” Kyle watched Ralph for a ment before glancing away.

“... If you tell me, I won't be able to hate you. Because you were honest. But if you try lying to me again, I won't only ignore you,” he continued and looked back to Ralph.

Ralph stayed silent for a long time, his eyes looking passed Kyle as he contemplated everything.

Tweek had already told Henrietta, why wouldn't he be able to tell Kyle? Kyle was so trustworthy, and he… he was his best friend once.

“...Okay, I am Mysterion.”

“... Why ? We're just some hick town, why would a stranger like you want to help us?” Kyle shook his head, a light scoff slipping through his lips.

Another long silence from Ralph.

“Because I'm Kenny McCormick.”

Chapter Text


"Kenny McCormick?"

Kyle's face was cold against Kenny's cheek, his breath hotter than anything Kenny had experienced against his ear.

"...Yeah… I'm Kenny."

His lips were soft and warm, sticky from some sort of chap-stick as they pressed lightly against the side of Kenny's neck, his arms around Kenny's shoulders.

"What sort of sick joke is this? You think you're being funny? There's nothing funny about Kenny's death, you heartless freak!"

His body was trembling against Kenny's, and the blonde's heart was pounding out of his chest, his breaths coming in short because of the tight hug that Kyle engulfed him into.

"I… faked it. I faked everything. I just wanted you all to miss me for once. I'm so sorry Kyle, just believe me."

Kyle loosened his hold. "Who hasn't missed you, Kenny?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed and face pained, his eyes glassy. It hurt Kenny. It hurt him a lot. He still managed to laugh, though.

"I was a stupid fifteen year old. What good choices do we ever make?"

Kyle either wasn't amused or still bitter at him, but he didn't crack a smile or smirk. He sighed and turned his gaze away. "God I don't even know why I'm believing you- you could just be some sort of impulsive liar," he muttered under his breath, slipping his hands from Kenny's neck and backing away.

Kenny huffed through his nose and motioned a hand, watching Kyle.

"I wasn't going to come back, but Tweek found me where I was living and asked me to help him. I've been watching you guys' social medias and stuff to make sure you're all okay and everything. Believe me, it wasn't my intention to come back here," he said.

"And why not? Why even do it in the first place? Do you know how much trouble you've put us through?" Kyle shoved Kenny but he wasn't strong, so the blonde didn't budge. Then Kyle's eyes widened and he gasped. He looked back to Kenny's face.

"Last night Mysterion died, and if Mysterion is Ralph and Ralph is you, that means that you died- what the hell is your problem? What's wrong with you?"

"..Normally you guys don't remember when I die and shit, so… I don't know how to explain this to you," Kenny reached up to rub his neck. Kyle narrowed his eyes at the blonde, processing things through.

"What? Fucking explain! God I can't look at you anymore, I hate Ralph Coffee," he whispered the last part to himself and Kenny blinked and tilted his head.

"Huh? You hate- okay, okay, well I uh… I don't know why you remember last night; because no one ever does, but if I… die, then I like, come back and shit at Stark's Pond. I know it sounds stupid-"

"Everything about South Park is stupid. How long have you been able to do that?" Kyle asked, crossing his arms. Kenny gave a light shrug.

"...Since as long as I can remember? I mean, I really really don't know how you remember- did you do anything weird last night after I died?"

"Like hell I would, you're the weird one. Did you?"

"Wait, wait, okay forget about that stuff for a second. Last night, you told me that we were in front of the school, right?" Kenny motioned his hands a little quick from the sudden thought, and it made Kyle flinch back and narrow his eyes at the blonde.


"So why was I there? I got attacked at Bamcoe's! I..." Kenny turned his gaze to the side to think, bringing a hand up to his forehead to give him false help.

Kyle just shook his head and uncrossed his arms to reach out and grab Kenny's shoulders.


Kenny glanced at him with his eyes, stricken by surprise at the name. Kyle dropped his hand from Kenny's shoulder and crossed his arms again.

"Why are you even bothering with this stuff? What if they get you?" The redhead asked, but Kenny just shrugged and paused so that he could actually think. Why was he involving himself in it again?

"Because I wanted to… bring myself back up. It was a shitty thing, what I did; so I just… wanted to make it up to you guys?" Kenny rubbed his neck.

"That's a stupid reason. I can't believe you even made a new identity- who does that? Kenny, you could die!"

"I'll come back Kyle, it's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal. What will Tweek do when he finds out you aren't who you say you are? He'll probably kick you out and you'll be homeless or something, and you'll end up getting killed. Does Tweek know you're Mysterion?"

"Yeah, Kyle, he put me up to it. He's like, the brains for it." Something marked Kyle's eyes, and the redhead moved back to lean against his car's hood.

"Well what about me? I'm smart. Why not ask me?" he asked, whatever in his eyes keeping Kenny's gaze. But the blonde shook his head and sighed.

"I couldn't get you involved Kyle, it'd get you hurt or something."

"I'm already involved, I have to go to my students' memorials and listen to their parents blame everyone. It doesn't matter if you want me to help or not, I've already got some stuff figured out," Kyle said and dropped his gaze to the snowy ground where he was kicking it and leaving an imprint. Kenny pressed his lips together and tried to think of an excuse as to why he couldn't accept Kyle's information, but he ended up asking anyway.

"What is it?" he sighed.

"Forget it, I lost interest," Kyle brought his gaze up again to Kenny, and he had a playful smile that both made Kenny's heart jump, and his eyes roll.

"Kyle, you're an ass."

"You're an asshole. I'm the only one who knows you're Kenny? Who all knows you're Mysterion?"

"Just you, and then you, Tweek, and Henrietta. Tweek's sort of a blabber mouth. Are you cold yet? I am, can we go now?" Kenny glanced off to Tweek's truck and Kyle nodded before pushing off of his car.

Kenny started walking to the truck, Kyle beside him, until Kyle suddenly veered off and turned back to his own car.

"What are you doing?" Kenny asked, pausing in his step to watch Kyle as he left. The redhead didn't reply, just walked to the trunk of his car and tried pulling it open, and when it didn't, he walked back to Kenny.

"I don't want anyone breaking into my car," the redhead finally said, and Kenny just rolled his eyes again and hopped into the driver's seat of the truck. Kyle got into the passenger's and sat back, the heater still on because Kenny had left the truck running.

"Hey Kyle," Kenny glanced at Kyle as he brought the car into drive, putting his foot to the gas pedal. "Do you know anything about Bamcoe's? That I should know?" he asked.

Kyle shrugged, his eyes closed as he sat back in the warmth. His eyelashes were long and red, just like his hair. He was still pretty.

"Say some names and I'll tell you what they do there," Kyle said.

"...Aright. Clyde and his dad. And Craig, where has he been?"

"Clyde's dad owns Bamcoe's, but he's never around, sort of leaves it to the staff. Clyde only comes to get drunk and leave with some girls. Craig's been dead, he killed himself a few years back."

"What? Why? What happened to him?"

"I don't know? He was getting bad into drugs." Kyle opened his eyes and looked out at the road as Kenny drove.

Then they were quiet for a long time. Long enough to get to the school. But then when Kenny parked and Kyle tried to get out, Kenny reached over and grabbed Kyle's arm.

"What were you doing so far from the school? You weren't even near your house," Kenny said when Kyle looked at him.

"I'll tell you another time, I'm gonna be late." Kyle's voice sounded a little neutral, and Kenny associated it with the thought that Kyle was lying and wouldn't tell him. He didn't have a reason to either, Kenny was a liar himself.

"...Okay." Kenny let go of Kyle but held up a hand so that Kyle wouldn't leave yet. "Um, maybe you should have my phone number? Or something. Just for measure."

"Measure, or to keep an eye on me?"

"Why would I want to do that? I just… haven't seen you in a long time, ya know? Maybe I want to keep in contact with you."

Kyle's expression softened like that time in the bar, and he rolled his eyes and sighed. "Just come to my house, I hate using my phone."

"Really?" Kenny beamed, and it made Kyle roll his eyes again.

"Yeah, just don't get hurt anymore. If you aren't an idiot, you'll drop the shit you're doing and just leave it all alone," Kyle said pushed his door open more. Kenny gave a small laugh and just shook his head.

"I can't, I sort of promised Tweek."

"You're the biggest idiot ever, Kenny."

"...I know." Kenny watched as Kyle hopped out of the truck, turning from him and walking up to the school building that they had parked in front of. He didn't look back once, but looking at the snow, Kyle had probably covered up the blood, because it was all white and perfect.

Who dumped Kenny in front of the school? Why?

Kenny started driving back to Tweek's house.


"How did it go? Did he try and kill you? Was he trying to lure you out into the woods?" Tweek asked when Ralph got inside the house, and the blonde shook his head.

"No, you weirdo. His transmission went out so I gave him a ride to the school. What's up with that, didn't you say you trust him?" Ralph asked as he took off his coat, dropping it onto the sofa that Tweek sat on, the older blonde narrowing his green eyes up at Ralph before reaching over and taking the coat, dropping it onto his own lap because he hated Ralph putting his things everywhere for whatever reason.

"He's trustworthy, but I don't trust anyone."

"Oh come on, you trust me."


"Tweek! Didn't your parents ever tell you to be kind?"


"Alright, well look at this." Ralph sat next to Tweek on the couch, where he got out the ripped photograph had found in Bamcoe's. He left it folded, because he wanted to tell Tweek about all he had discovered, first.

"So, when I went to Bamcoe's last night, I went in through a window and then I went and checked out the employee's rooms. There wasn't much. So then I went into the manager's room, and I found a photograph of some like, kid? I think? The head is torn off, so I can't tell. Kyle said that Clyde's-"

"Show me the photo?" Tweek held out his hand and Ralph puffed at being cut off, but he unfolded the photograph and held it out anyway. Tweek sat back in the couch and crossed his legs, holding the photograph up so that he could look at it.

Then he started laughing, and Ralph looked at him.


"This is me! My mom made this shirt for me when I was a kid!" Tweek spoke up with a delicate smile on his face, like he was remembering something nice, but Ralph just had to tell him.

"Tweek, Kyle told me that Clyde-"

Knock knock knock.

"Hold on, Ralph." Tweek stood up from the couch and headed off to the front door, where he called out a "Who is it?"

Clyde's voice sounded and Ralph put a hand over his face. Speak of the devil.

Tweek hesitated for a long moment before opening the door, letting Clyde inside. The brunette seemed not to notice Ralph, because he just grinned to Tweek and put an arm around his shoulders.

"Hey Tweek! You ready to get fucked up? I got some beer and there's a game on tonight~"

"I don't leave, you know that," Tweek said and ducked away from the brunette whenever his face got a little too close to Tweek's. Then Tweek looked fully at Ralph and Clyde followed his gaze, which made his expression falter, but he was quick to mask it.

"Randolf! How are you doing? What are you doing over here so early? Got a job yet?" Clyde grinned to Ralph, who glanced at Tweek for help just to see that the other blonde's eyes were elsewhere. Ralph cleared his throat, looking back to Clyde.

"Uh, I'm a mechanic, so I work when I want. It's also just 'Ralph'," the blonde said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. Clyde's grin didn't falter or anything, but he did look back to Tweek, who had started making his escape by slowly walking sideways, back to the couch.

"Ah, my bad dude, I suck with new names. How are you liking it here in South Park? Colder than wherever you came from?" The brunette asked, letting Tweek slip away, to which the blonde left to sit beside Ralph, sitting between the other blonde and the couch's arm so that Clyde couldn't squeeze in beside him. Either Clyde didn't know, didn't care, or he was good at hiding it.

"It's um, cold, yeah. Pretty cold." Ralph glanced at Tweek but he wasn't wanting to look at either men, his gaze on his lap as he sat on the sofa. It made Ralph question why the hell he had even let him in, if he was just going to sit and wallow.

But then he spoke up, saving Ralph from anymore awkward conversation.

"I can't hang out with you, Clyde; we're going somewhere tonight, me and Ralph," Tweek said, his eyes looking up. Maybe he was thinking of what to say? Ralph still didn't get Tweek, the man was a mystery with everything- how he handled things was so uncalled for.

"What? Really? But Tweek, it's a game night!" Clyde visibly deflated, but looking at Tweek, Ralph could see him shrug in total indifference.

"I don't like games."

"So? You can still hang out, I betcha your Ralph friend does."


Clyde laughed and moved to lean against a chair, and it made Ralph crossed his arms over himself because it was just so… awkward, and unfitting, the whole ordeal. Couldn't he just go? Like, the whole situation seemed uncalled for, it was like there was something else, but his brain was too smothered for him to think of it.

"Are you two banging? I mean, come on! What's up? What's with the hate?" Clyde's eyes were on Tweek, who didn't shrug this time, but he also didn't speak right away.

"We're not, Clyde. Maybe-" Ralph didn't want to speak up, but he did, just to get cut off.

"So if you're not, then I can jump in, right?" Clyde asked, his gaze still on Tweek, whose own eyes were on the blonde.

"No. You know you shouldn't be here," Tweek said, and then the two watched each other for a long moment, one that left Ralph questioning why he didn't just leave to his room. Oh wait, it was like he was stuck because of the weight of the atmosphere. It was really like a cat and dog trying to eat each other.

Clyde pushed off of the chair and walked to the front door, where he glanced back at the two. His mouth moved like he was going to say something, but then he just smiled and pulled something from his pocket, to which he set on the window sill beside the front door before leaving the house.

It was an abnormally long few minutes before Tweek or Ralph spoke, and that didn't happen until after Tweek stood up and went to the front door, where he locked it before snagging up what appeared to be a piece of paper from the window sill. Then Ralph was the one to speak.

"Is there something I should know about that guy? Like, is he going to come back anytime soon?" he asked, uncrossing his arms and sitting forward on the couch, leaning on his knees. Tweek looked at the piece of paper for a long time before flipping it over, to which he also looked at for a long time. Then he grabbed it with both hands and tore it down the middle, and then he flipped it and tore it there, folding it and ripping it more and more until there were little pieces of paper littering the floor.

Ralph was silent, watching Tweek, waiting to see if the other blonde would say or do anything after that. He did, after a time.

"My restraining order is up," Tweek said, but he didn't look furious or upset, he looked… slightly confused, like he was pondering. Ralph was just surprised, though.

"What? What restraining order?"

"Sexual assault. When did I miss my date?" Tweek mumbled the last part to himself, his eyes narrowing and his nose scrunching as he thought.

"Sexual assault? Tweek, what?" Ralph stood up from the couch but the older blonde wasn't paying attention to him, mumbling something to himself.

"August 5th, January 9th, February- February, dammit-"

"Tweek, what's going on?" Ralph moved to stand in front of Tweek, the latter only noticing when he saw the shift of movement in the corner of his eye.

"What?" Tweek looked at Ralph and narrowed his eyes more before rolling them and stomping a foot down into the mess of paper.

"Sexual assault, he date-raped me senior year and I've been renewing my restraining order every year, but I must of forgotten with all this shit," Tweek muttered before puffing his cheeks up, eyebrows furrowed as he fell back into thought. Ralph reached out to touch Tweek's shoulder and the blonde came back, looking at him with his baby pout.

"Tweek, I'm trying to tell you: Clyde's dad owns Bamcoe's, and I found a torn photograph of you in there. Now you're saying Clyde assaulted you when you guys were younger?" Ralph looked Tweek in the eye but didn't see the worry that he himself was feeling; Tweek just watched him normally, his cheeks still puffed out and his eyebrows furrowed. Then he puffed, his breath smelling like mint and coffee, and he spun away from Ralph before giving a big yell.

"Fuck! Fuck me sideways! ARGH!"

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight

“You just made that connection, Tweek?” Henrietta’s cackle was scary, like a witch’s from a movie, and her breath smelled like fresh mint from all of that gum she chewed. She leaned back in the cafe’s booth, putting her arms up on the back to grin at Tweek and Ralph as she clamped her teeth down on her gum. Her eyes were soaked in black eyeliner today, and from her demeanor, she probably woke up pretty good to be teasing them already.

Tweek wasn’t amused, though, and he pointed straight at Ralph, who sat beside him. “He didn’t make it! Look at him! He’s like a retarded monkey!” Ralph looked at Tweek and gawked before looking at Henrietta.

“You have no clue how hard I tried telling him,” the man scoffed, completely tired of Tweek’s blame games. Henrietta just smirked at him though, to conceal another loud laugh.

“I think I’m gonna go with Ralph this time, Tweek; seems funner that way,” she said and Tweek gave a loud bellow before dropping his head down against the table, making it rattle. Ralph could feel people looking over now.

He sighed and shook his head before just paying attention to Henrietta, who was still smiling.

“So what should I do? Tweek’s been like that all morning, so I’m sort of doing this myself,” he sighed.

Henrietta cleared her throat and brought her arms forward to lean her elbows on the table. She lifted a hand up to her glass of water and ran her finger along the rim before dipping it down into the liquid, pulling it back out and flicking it at Tweek’s lowered head and wetting his hair. The blonde made some guttural noise.

“Alright, so you said that Roger owns Bamcoe’s but Clyde like, manages it? And that Clyde is spurned over Tweek so he kills blondes that attend his father’s club in jealousy? That he obsesses over Tweek enough to murder?” Henrietta asked it in some sort of tone that made Ralph unsure, but the man gave a low nod anyway.


“Alright.” Henrietta took a sip of her drink before putting the glass down and sitting back in her seat, crossing her legs. “Want to hear what doesn’t add up in that scenario? We’ve established that the killer is either short or weak and has to drive their victims and then drag them. How big is Clyde, huh? Probably 180, 6’ft. Does that sound like he can’t carry someone? No. Especially with the sizes of the victims; he should be able to carry all of them. Another problem: what type of vehicle does Clyde have?”

Ralph didn’t know, and he didn’t want to answer anyway, so he looked at Tweek, who’s face was still buried in the table.

“...Some car he got a few years ago,” Tweek spoke up.

“What state?”


“Old or new.”


“There you go.” Henrietta looked at Ralph. “Our killer should have a newer one, to help them with their victims without any trouble. You also said that; now this is the big one: Clyde started killing because he’s spurned over Tweek. Well, when do you suppose he started killing, then?”

Ralph sighed and shrugged, losing his enthusiasm that he was right, because Henrietta had enough sass to make him be wrong. “I don’t know, fucking… a few years after, maybe?”

“Well, you two would be happy to know that I, being the awesome person I am, did my own research on our self proclaimed serial killer. Hold on.” Henrietta reached beside her on the booth seat for her black bag, where she tossed the flap open and slipped out a few paper folders; mumbling something about Tweek being a child while doing so, which made him sit up, his cheeks red.

“Alright, here we are,” she lay the folders on the table and looked at the two. “So, want to know what I’ve got?” she asked and Tweek nodded quickly. Kenny had never known, but Henrietta was just as smart as Kyle and Tweek on the IQ chart, and she had apparently been doing her own research as Tweek and Ralph did theirs.

Henrietta flipped the first folder open.

“So, I wanted to see how far these blonde killings go, and we already know that they started last year. But I went deeper, because that’s nothing to work with, and I found that just two years ago there had been the same killings: posed, cleaned, strangled- but in North Park. That’s not all, though. It was seven victims in one year and then it was over. There is a one year gap between North Park’s murders, and our murders: the killer was there first, took a break for a year, and then moved on to us,” she spoke, and Tweek slid the folder over to himself to look at the contents. Ralph looked at Henrietta.

“Is that all?”

She had a few more things in front of her and Ralph didn’t think she was done, but he just had the urge to ask; maybe because he didn’t want to hear too much of it.

Henrietta smiled and shook her head, dropping her dark eyes to the second file and opening it.

“I dug deeper, because there has to be something motivating our killer, and as we’ve just established, it’s not Tweek. At least, I personally don’t think so. Now, I’ll start from the beginning because I don’t want to confuse you two,” Henrietta put her chin on one of her pale hands, lowering her eyes to read from the file in front of her.

“Ten years ago in South Park, there was an assault on a blonde kid. He had been lured, drugged, and molested before being dumped at the school; after hours. There had been five more assaults after that, on various kids: all blonde and blue eyed, but nothing too serious. Then, four years after, six years ago from now, the same thing happened; twelve blonde kids were lured, drugged, and molested, but there was an added element: each reported having been strangled by the captor. Only one received CPR before he was dropped off at the school like the others. And then… we have our seven strangulation murders in North Park two years ago, and now our sixteen here in South Park.” Henrietta slid the folder to Tweek and he eagerly looked at it, Ralph narrowing his eyes in thought.

“So... what exactly is going on? This all started ten years ago?”

“The grooming started ten years ago. From kidnapping and molesting children to murdering them in North Park- I think it was all prep for what they’re doing now, to South Park. I think their real goal is here, and I think their obsession started ten years ago, maybe a little earlier. If we’re hoping for a slip-up, he may not do it any time soon; he was getting ready for us. If you guys want to try and find something on him, you’ll have to look at his earlier cases, but...” Henrietta reached over the table to tap Tweek’s hand and he looked up to her, eyes wide as always. The goth sat back again and she grabbed the last folder.

“I want you both to look at this because I went as far as I could to find all dead blondes by asphyxiation, and this was the last thing that I found,” she said and Ralph and Tweek watched her. She placed her pale on the folder and turned it to face the two blondes. Then she slowly started flipping it open and Ralph’s blood ran cold.

He was staring at his own reflection. No, no- he was staring at Kenny’s; Kenny’s fifteen year old self, smiling at a camera. Tweek even seemed taken aback.

“W-what? Kenny killed himself! What are you saying?” He stood up, obviously horrified at what ever thought he had made up in his head, and Henrietta motioned for him to sit back down. Ralph stayed silent.

“I’m not saying that Kenny McCormick was murdered. Well, I mean, no one saw him personally kill himself, but that aside, he was the first blonde to die of asphyxia. He hanged himself, remember? Hangings leave bruising around the neck. So does strangulation. But, in strangulation, you can see the shape of the hand and the fingers. In hangings, you don’t. Also in hangings, the blood drains down the body. If someone is strangled, it is most likely when they’re laying down and after death, the blood runs down where the body is positioned; to the back; leaving the backside red or purple depending on how long it’s been in that position. It’s called Post Mortem Lividity, but that’s not what I’m trying to say, either.” Henrietta motioned again for Tweek to sit and she didn’t say anything else until he did, so he did after a moment.

“I’m saying that our killer’s fascination must have first started with Kenny McCormick.”

Ralph climbed into the driver’s seat of the truck, Tweek letting him drive them back because he had gone into his mind to think. He didn’t even remember to close his door, so Ralph had to reach over him and slam it shut. Then he started the truck and, after giving Henrietta a wave of goodbye from where she leaned against her own car, started driving he and Tweek home.

It was another one of their silent drives, and as much as he wanted to, Ralph didn’t turn on the radio because Tweek hated it. So he was pretty much being haunted by Henrietta’s words.

Fascination first started with Kenny McCormick.” If that’s true, then the “grooming” started two years after Kenny’s suicide. But who the hell-

“Kenny had friends and flings,” Tweek sounded, and Ralph looked at him. The blonde was looking out the window, his cheek on a hand. Ralph cleared his throat.

“Like who?”

Tweek shrugged a shoulder, watching whatever he was out the window. “Stan, Cartman, and Kyle were his friends. He had flings with plenty of girls, which could make it even more complicated, because the killer could be either female or male. I know it’s not Cartman, though, because he’s a neo-nazi, and killing blondes would be killing his perfect race.”

“...So, do you know who any of his flings were?” Ralph turned a corner.

“Bebe, Annie, Heidi, Rebecca- plenty. God, if Kenny were alive, I’d slap the fuck out him.”

Ralph laughed, a short, nervous one. “Why?”

“Because everyone fucking liked him.” Tweek pointed out the window. “We’re here.”

Ralph parked in front of the house, but he didn’t turn the key off or get out. Tweek gave him a look, pausing with his door half open.

“What are you doing?” the smaller blonde asked, squinting.

“I was uh, gonna go to the school and talk to someone.”

Tweek leaned over Ralph, grabbing the key and shutting it off before pulling it out of the ignition. Then he held them up, dangling them for Ralph.

“My truck, my keys. Get out.” Tweek climbed out of the truck, shoving the keys into his pocket, and Ralph sighed before following, getting out of the truck and walking after Tweek into the house. Once they were inside, Tweek walked to the kitchen to start some coffee; Ralph could tell because he heard the water turn on.

Going to the couch, he flopped down onto it, lying on his back and putting a leg up onto the back of the sofa. Then he looked up at the ceiling, a light yellow from the poor aging that took its original white paint. Who gave Tweek this house?

“Tweek!” Ralph called, looking at the kitchen’s archway. Tweek didn’t say anything in acknowledgment, but Ralph assumed he was listening anyway. “Who did you inherit this house from?”

It took at least ten minutes before Tweek peeked out of the kitchen at Ralph. “My dad’s grandma.” Then he disappeared back inside, and Ralph rolled his eyes. The disrespect in this kid.

“Well, where’s your-” Ralph cut himself off when Tweek came into the room, holding two cups of coffee. Then the man adjusted to sit up on the couch and Tweek sat by him, holding out a cup for him.

“What did you say?” Tweek asked as Ralph took the cup, pulling his legs onto the couch so that he could sit with his side against the back and face the other man. Ralph cleared his throat, putting his cup on the table.

“Uh, I was gonna ask where your parents are?” He looked at Tweek, the other blonde watching him while he drank his coffee. His green eyes watched Ralph for at least a minute as he drank. Then he pulled his cup from his lips and leaned to the table, putting it beside Ralph’s. Sitting back against the side, Tweek looked at Ralph again.

“They died,” he said, plain and simple, and that was it. He got quiet after and dropped his gaze to the couch between he and Ralph. The other blonde blinked and cleared his throat again.

“...Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Where are your parents?” Tweek asked, looking back up at him.

“...I don’t know.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Where are they?”

“...Somewhere else, but they’re doing good.” Ralph furrowed his eyebrows, confused at the questions.

“What town are you from? What state?”


“It sucks, doesn’t it? Being asked all these questions that you don’t know the answers to? ...Henrietta said that I should be careful around you, because you could be lying about some things.” Tweek looked into Ralph’s eyes with his green, naturally wide ones. “It’s like you don’t know yourself any more than I know you. When is your birthday?”

Ralph swallowed, stuck in Tweek’s gaze. He didn’t know an answer. Did he use his own birthday? Make one up? Use the one from the real Ralph Coffee’s gravestone?

Tweek sat forward on the couch, leaning closer to Ralph. “Who are you?”

Ralph didn’t know how to answer that, either. When he didn’t, Tweek reached off of the couch to grab his coffee, taking a quick sip before putting it back. Then he reached out to Ralph, grabbing the man by his shoulders and pulling him into a kiss.

His lips were wet with coffee that Ralph could taste, and they were warm and soft. Tweek held Ralph there for a moment, pressing his lips to the man’s in a soft kiss. Then he let him go, standing up from the couch and dipping down to the table to grab his coffee. When he picked the cup up, he held it in both of his hands, his back to Ralph as he looked down at the floor.

“...Do you think we’re going to die?” he asked, his voice soft like his kiss, Ralph watching him in shock and confusion.

He cleared his throat to smooth his voice, but he still sounded flustered. “N-no, I think we’re gonna catch them.”

Tweek nodded, pressing his lips together. He looked back at Ralph. “...Will you stay here tonight? Not go out as Mysterion?” His voice was soft, and Ralph nodded despite himself.

“...Yeah, I will.”

Tweek nodded again, turning away from Ralph and leaving to the kitchen with his coffee, leaving the other man alone in the living room to ponder his thoughts.

...Who was he anymore?

Standing, he took up his own cup of coffee and walking into the kitchen after Tweek, walking to the counter so that he could place it down and go to his room, but Tweek looked over from where he stood at the sink. The blonde put his cup in the ceramic before walking to Ralph, taking the man’s cup and putting it down for him. Then he looked up into Ralph’s blue eyes, that looked distressed as the man didn’t know what to think. Reaching up, Tweek wrapped his arms around Ralph’s shoulders, watching him in silence. He let out a breath before speaking.

“Are you in love with someone?” he asked, a whisper. Ralph looked away, but he could still feel Tweek watching him, so he finally nodded after a moment.

“...It’s not me,” he added, trying to look into Ralph’s eyes as the man evaded him. Then Ralph shook his head in agreance and Tweek slipped his arms from the man’s neck, to step away, but Ralph exhaled deeply through his nose and reached out, grabbing the blonde by his arm.

Chapter Text


Ralph lifted Tweek up onto the counter, the small blonde pushing things aside as he was sat down so that they wouldn't be in the way of his thin form. Then when Ralph let him go, Tweek reached out to to the man, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him forward so that he could mash their lips together; in a closeness that he could feel little pricks of hair on Ralph's chin.

Pushing Tweek's legs apart, Ralph stepped closer to the blonde and returned the kiss- letting Tweek slip his tongue inside when he bit the brunette's bottom lip, making him part his flesh with a low growl. He rolled his hips over Tweek, grinding against the blonde's groin and eliciting a shaky, breathy moan in return of the action.

Tweek slipped his fingers into Ralph's hair, feeling the soft strands briefly before trailing his hands down the man's neck, caressing his skin to his shirt collar. Then he broke the kiss, dropping his gaze down before looking back up at Ralph, the brunette's blue eyes wavering.

"I don't know if we should do this," he said quietly, his breath hot against Tweek in their close proximity. Tweek shook his head softly, looking away.

"...I want to," he breathed. When Ralph didn't do anything, Tweek dropped his hands from the man's shirt to the his lower stomach, running his palms along his body through his shirt before going lower, where he started unbuttoning his jeans but fumbled because of his nervous fingers. Ralph pushed the blonde's hands away and unbuttoned his pants himself, sighing. Looking at Tweek, he saw the blonde's eyes full of shyness, so he leaned forward and kissed the man just for the other to pull back abruptly.

Tweek quickly pulled his own shirt off, dropping it to the floor before pausing for a moment, thinking. Glancing up at Ralph, he exhaled through his nose.

"Does this make me gross?" he asked, his words barely audible. Ralph's hands were on the edge of the counter, on each side of Tweek's hips, and he stood close enough to see a few light, barely visible freckles on Tweek's nose and cheeks, their bodies inches away.

Ralph shook his head.

I'm just a bad person.

Bringing his hands to Tweek's lower abdomen, he pulled the button open and slid his zipper down, slipping his fingers into the blonde's boxers to grab his erect cock. Tweek's breath hitched as Ralph tugged it, the brunette dropping his head against Tweek's shoulder and inhaling a breath of soap and coffee; Tweek brought his hands up to Ralph's neck, his fingers digging into his skin from his prolonged lack of human contact.

Then Ralph slipped his hand from Tweek's pants and pulled his own jeans down, pulling his cock out of his boxers and stroking it to bring up his erection; Tweek's breathing hard and irregular beside him while the blonde clung to the other man.

Ralph exhaled against Tweek's skin, closing his eyes as he tried to place himself somewhere else instead of this current situation: away from being an utter prick. Tweek didn't really like him, did he? He must be thinking of someone else.

Ralph grabbed Tweek's hips, pulling him forward on the counter so that he lay more on his back and he could pull the blonde's pants off easier; pulling them and his boxers off and down his legs. Pushing away from Tweek, Ralph picked one of the blonde's legs up over his shoulder and bent over, spitting on his hole and straightening back up to step closer, grabbing his dick and pressing it against Tweek's entrance, moist with what they had to work with for lube.

Glancing up at Tweek's face, the blonde could see that his eyes held serious question, so he nodded softly, wrapping his arms further around Ralph's neck.

Then Ralph dropped his gaze back down at Tweek's pale, quivering stomach. He started pressing inside slowly, and Tweek let out a small grunt of pain through his closed mouth before taking a hand from Ralph's neck to grab his chin and pull his face up, kissing him.

On the kitchen table, Tweek's phone vibrated but they couldn't hear it.


Tweek clambered off of the counter with Ralph's help, watching as the brunette then started fixing his clothes. Dropping his gaze down his own body, he noticed the cum on his stomach, dripping slowly down his jutting hip bone. He dipped down to the floor, sweeping up his shirt and wiping the mess off of him, wiping away some that had gotten his upper thighs.

Looking up at Tweek as he grabbed his own shirt, Ralph cleared his throat. "Do you want me to wash that?"

Tweek seemed not to hear him, putting the shirt over his arms and pulling it over his head. Once it was on, he glanced at Ralph and narrowed his eyes. "Hm?"

The brunette shook his head, putting his shirt on and completing his dressing. "...Nothing."

Watching Ralph for a moment, Tweek felt that he should say something and almost didn't, but he ended up speaking despite himself.

"Do you regret it?" he asked, his green eyes on Ralph's blue as the brunette looked over from his shirt, where he dusted his side. Ralph didn't say anything, staring at Tweek whose eyes were so light. When Ralph finally opened his mouth to speak, there was a vibrate on the table beside Tweek and the blonde glanced over, his phone's screen lighting up as it wiggled on the table top from the vibrations.

Stepping over, he picked his phone up and answered it when he saw HENRIETTA on the screen. Watching Tweek on the phone, Ralph couldn't hear anything from the other end and Tweek wasn't saying anything either, so the brunette went to lean against the counter. He could see spots on Tweek's shirt from wiping up and he felt his cheeks get hot in embarrassment, so he dropped his gaze before looking away entirely when he saw that Tweek was only wearing his shirt, the side of his butt visible from the button up's design.

It took a total of four minutes before Tweek hung up, not that long, but very long from the silent atmosphere. Tweek pointed to the kitchen's archway with his phone, looking at Ralph.

"They found Bradley dead at the school and Henrietta needs us to get his body before the cops do- hurry up!"

Ralph didn't question, just rushed out of the kitchen to his room, where he stripped and pulled on his outfit as quick as he could before going outside though his window.

It wasn't dark out yet, the sun just starting to set- which meant that there'd be a lot of people out and about. Especially if they got word of another murder.

Running away from the house, he got pissed off at the realization that it took so long to get anywhere on foot from Tweek's house. Especially the damn school. There was something else though, that surpassed that thought.

It hadn't been two weeks yet. The murder was premature- what had happened? And Bradley? Bradley Biggel? Henrietta would probably, like Tweek said, kill Ralph! Would she even help them with the case anymore?

When did the murder even happen? While Ralph and Tweek were… could they have prevented it? Could they have saved him?

A police car whizzed by, sirens blaring, and Mysterion took off after it. It was probably going to the scene, and if he couldn't beat it there, he may as well catch a ride from it.

Living this far out from attention, Tweek didn't have any neighbors. Which left the surrounding areas near his house as small dump sites; to which Mysterion swept down while running to grab something of helpful interest. An old skateboard that some kid had probably dumped for a new one.

Dropping it down, the hero stepped on it and immediately kicked off on the road, gaining some small momentum after the police car that he slightly gained on. Kicking his foot more on the ground to get a better speed, the hooded man reached out in front of himself for the car, testing how close he was to it. His fingers were about a foot away from the back, so he gave another quick kick that let him slap his hand onto the trunk. Kneeling down on the skateboard, Mysterion brought his hand from the trunk of the car down to the bumper, which he grabbed onto tightly while pulling both feet up onto the board. Then he held on firmly so that he wouldn't fall away, and the police car brought him straight to the crime scene: the school.


People were already crowded around the school's flagpole, talking loud and trying to get a closer look at what had happened, and to whom.

Stepping over the police man's unconscious body, Mysterion glanced back at the man; late thirties, growing beer gut. "Thanks for the ride," the hero spared him before looking at the growing crowd. How in the hell would he get a good look? Let alone get the body.

Sighing, he looked back at the police man, lying in the snow. "...Another favor?" Dipping down, he took the man's gun from his holster, switching the safety off and cocking it before pointing the muzzle at the woods near the school. Shooting a few bullets, it was enough to scare a good majority of the crowd away, but that was all. Just a majority. The others: the ones who didn't really have anything to fear, stood in place only mildly affected- watching Mysterion like he were a stranger. Because he was.

Dropping the gun into the snow beside the police officer, Mysterion made his way to the flagpole, slipping passed some bystanders who wouldn't move for him. When he got to the pole, it was something that the investigation hadn't seen before. Usually the victims were tossed, but occasionally posed: especially when in the woods or occasional house yard. This time, he wasn't just posed, he was mutilated. It was a pure taunt to the investigators- being Mysterion and Tweek or the West Park police, it was a teasing taunt that upset Kenny.

Sitting against the flagpole, Bradley's arms were raised above his head, hands tied at the wrists tight enough that his hands looked swollen- probably before death. His head was back, mouth open with blood coating his lips and chin heavily; indicating that something had been wounded in his mouth, probably whilst still alive. He was naked, the whole of his body exposed to the town like some sort of exhibit- some sort of shaming or embarrassment to hurt whatever reputation he had gained since Kenny had been away; his legs bent and open showing himself to the public. His stomach had multiple stab wounds, some with blood while others were dry- one stab was dragged and his an intestine pulled out, pooling in his lap. The haunting part of it all was his eyes, open and pale from death- a sickly pale overtone to them that eliminated his natural eye color.

But there was a sense of relief to the whole thing. It wasn't Bradley Biggel. It was Butter's friend Bradley, from that childhood gay camp. Regardless, Mysterion had to get his body to take to Henrietta before the police got it.

Stepping forward to the body, Mysterion reached into his boot to grab his knife for the rope. That was when the crowd started up.


"Did you do this?"

"Why didn't you protect him?"

"Leave him alone!"

"Kill yourself!"

The rope was too tight around Bradley's wrists, making it impossible for Mysterion to cut without cutting the corpse's skin in the process.

His hands were shaking.

"Get away from him!"

Something hit Mysterion in the shoulder, a rock. Then another, at his back. And then he could hear the police sirens. A rock hit Mysterion's elbow and the knife slipped, slicing along Bradley's wrist and forming a cut that didn't leak because he had been dead for too long.

A car door shut, followed by another, and then a few more. Looking back, Mysterion could see the police getting out of their cars, two men already going to their fallen brethren.

"Drop the knife and put your hands up!" A male voice sounded and Mysterion looked over. It was Micheal, pointing a gun at him while standing behind his police car's driver door for cover. Something told Mysterion that he was the leading officer, and something else told him to run.

So he did.

Turning from the police and yelling crowd, Mysterion took off running to the woods and bullets whizzed after him, one striking him in his left shoulder blade that almost forced him to the ground, but he kept up and managed to keep running, turning off into the woods behind a row of trees that helped to hide him from the incoming bullets.

Dropping down while running, Mysterion slipped his phone from his boot and called Tweek, picking his pace back up when he heard voices calling out after him, advancing.

Tweek answered after two rings and waited for Mysterion to speak first.

"It's not Bradley Biggle, it's the other one," Mysterion panted, looking back to see how far the police were from him.

"Did you manage to get his body, though?"

"No, he's tied too tight to a flagpole- I have the police after me, I need to lose them."

"There he is!" A male cop yelled out and a bullet flew by Mysterion, missing him by a few inches. Mysterion turned down a different row of trees to lose him, but he came in direct contact of two other policemen; who raised their guns at him.

"Find somewhere safe to hide and I'll come get you!" Tweek hung up on Mysterion and the hooded man dropped his hand from his ear, quickly turning away from the officers and running in a different direction that looked to be clear. Panting, he ran harder until he was out of the woods, the two officers falling behind some in the trees.

Where can I hide? He stopped running, bracing down on his knees before reaching a gloved hand back to touch his wound, making him wince and pull it away. He could obviously tell that the bullet didn't go through, which meant that he needed a doctor to get it out. And stitch it. Could he go to Henrietta's? She's a mortician, she knows the basics of medical procedures. Should he really bring her into this, though? He couldn't go to Kyle, it'd put him at risk, too.

He didn't know who to go to- no one knew Mysterion, or Ralph. Hell, he'd go to Stan's if the man knew who he really was. If everyone knew he was Kenny, they would help him.

Mysterion picked up the pace again, running to a block of houses that seemed pretty inactive; no one was out, some cars were gone. He jogged to an empty looking house, going around and into the backyard. There, he fell against the house and texted Tweek, telling him the address to where he was.

Red's house.

There wasn't a reply from Tweek, so he was either driving or just didn't feel the need to reply. Either way, Mysterion slid down the house into a sitting position and huffed when his butt hit the snow. It was damn cold out today. There were more sirens, a car going passed Red's house but missing Mysterion because of his hiding place in the back.

Would the West Park police take Bradley's body to the South Park hospital, or theirs? Henrietta could probably pull some strings- she was the mortician for all of the other corpses; that should mean something.

"What the hell are you doing back here? Get out of here!" A voice sounded from the back porch and Mysterion looked over. It was Red. Mysterion had somehow missed the back door opening, but she was standing there on the porch with a stern expression. That was, until she saw it was Mysterion. The two's eyes met and the redhead's scowl fell away until the woman started laughing. "Well, look who it is. I don't know if you know or not, but the WPPD are putting you up for wanted: with a reward."

Mysterion didn't know what to do, so he just sat there in the snow, watching the woman. Her green eyed gaze slipped up Mysterion, to the blood that had smeared down with him from his wound, and then she looked back into his eyes.

"...Come on in, dumb ass." Red uncrossed her arms, pulling the screen door open and holding it. When Mysterion still didn't move, she nodded to her house. "I said come on. I ain't got all day."

The inside of her house warm. She had a fireplace on and just enough furniture that it seemed she lived alone. Either Mysterion didn't hear her car come home, or she doesn't have one.

A bump hit Mysterion's shoulder and he looked up from where he sat on the couch. Red stood beside him, holding out a cup of water. She quirked an eyebrow and raised the glass to him. "Drink it."

"You shouldn't help me, I've got to go-" Red clonked the glass on Mysterion's head and he scoffed. "Ow."

"Sue me. Drink it up and then show me your wound."

Mysterion sighed and took the cup, taking a few drinks before putting it in his lap. And man was it good. The water was so cool he could feel it travel down his throat and chest before hitting his empty stomach. That was nice.

Red grabbed the hero's cape and tossed it up over his head, so that she could see his back. He didn't complain, because it meant that she wasn't really going to get a glimpse of his face.

She found the zipper on his side and unzipped it, pulling his suit down his torso. She slowly peeled the suit off of the bullet wound, the blood sticky and wanting to keep it there. Mysterion clenched his teeth, keeping still and quiet so that he wouldn't hurt anything. Once Red pulled his suit down to his waist, she pat his good shoulder.

"Alrighty, now I gotta get some stuff for it."

"And you know what you're doing?"

"I was a volunteer paramedic, I can guesstimate. Wait here." Red turned away from the couch, going to the kitchen and grabbing a knife. Once she got that, she got her favorite vodka and then took the two back to Mysterion. Then she poured some of the drink on her hands.

"You know man, I don't quite know how to get the bullet out of you without drawing this whole thing out, so I'm just gonna be real simple. We're gonna cauterize it."


"Yep. Because it's uh… still bleeding." Red looked at the wound, which oozed streams of blood with every breath Mysterion took. "...Yeah, we're gonna cauterize. But this is gonna hurt, first." She rose the vodka bottle up and tilted it, letting the drink spill over the shot. Mysterion flinched and grunted, but he didn't want her to really see his pain, so he shut his eyes and took in some breaths.

He could see Kyle in his head, just being normal Kyle. Then he suddenly thought: I had sex with Tweek. How can I explain that to him?

Red walked away from Mysterion, off to her fireplace, where she stood for a moment before coming back.

How will he explain?

Schhh- Mysterion heard his skin sizzle before he felt the pain. It was terrible. There was a sharp point slipping into his wound and burning his raw flesh and he shut his eyes tight, shaking his head. Was it a knife? Was she using a knife?

"Hold on, hold on," Red slid the hot blade along Mysterion's wound, cauterizing the rim with the flat side and the inside with the end that she knew had to hurt. She burned it until the wound was white and grey from the burning, and then she pulled the knife away, putting it on the coffee table.

"Hey, are you okay?" She put a hand on his good shoulder, peeking around him at his covered face. He didn't answer her, but his skin was clammy. Going off, she went to her bathroom and got some Ibuprofen and rags before coming back. Grabbing Mysterion's hand, she put the pills in his palm. "Take these, it's just Ibuprofen. I'm gonna clean up your back and then I'll bandage your wound. This is from the police, right?"

Mysterion nodded, dropping his head back and popping the pills. Red nodded. "Yeah, West Park is pretty bad right about now. If you're the same Mysterion as when we were all kids, then you should remember Micheal, yeah? Well," Red started using the vodka to clean the man's back, wiping it all down with the rags, "he's not really that goth kid anymore, now he's sort of known for like, his criminal brutality. I don't think he really cares if you killed Pip or not; he just wants a reason to torture you."

"Why the fuck does everyone think I killed Pip? Jesus Christ."

"You know how small towns are. They like the rumors more than the truth. Oh, and I have a proposition for you: as payment for helping you out." Red dropped the bloody rags on the floor before leaving to the bathroom again, where she came back with some gauze pads and bandage wrap.

"I want to know what you have on the killer." Red put the gauze over the wound, pressing down until Mysterion's breath got uneasy. Then she started wrapping it.

"...We don't know much," Mysterion panted. "An insight thinks that it all started with Kenny McCormick, and that it's probably someone he dated, or someone with an obsession towards him."

"Oh yeah? Have you check out Kelly? She was like, his first real girlfriend. Gave him CPR once when they were kids. I'd be annoyed if someone I gave mouth-to-mouth to killed them self later in life."

"...Do you know where I can find her?"

"No, not really. But you can check with Lizzy or Lola, I can give you their house addresses."

"Yeah, thanks."

An incoming text said that Tweek was there, so Mysterion pulled his suit back up with Red's help, but they didn't zip it up again because he would have to change from the suit to avoid further detection. Red walked him to the door, but that was all. She didn't look outside to see who was picking him up; she just waved and grinned.

"Come back anytime, buddo."

Mysterion nodded. "...Thanks."

"You're okay?" Tweek asked Ralph, the man just finishing dressing into the new attire that Tweek brought him. The brunette nodded.

"Yeah, it's fine."

"...Henrietta says that WPPD's lead detective is in the morgue with her right now about Bradley's death, but she can get us in after hours."

Ralph nodded, leaning against the door while Tweek drove. Then he glanced at the blonde. "That girl, Red, said that we should look at Kelly. She was Kenny McCormick's "first love", so she could be worth checking out. Red gave us some addresses to check out, to help us find Kelly." He held the note out to Tweek, the blonde taking it and looking at it while driving.

"...Mm. We could look now, for something to do before going to the morgue, but you could also just use the time for resting," Tweek said quietly, folding the note and holding it in his palm, looking back at the road.

"Tweek, I don't need to rest- we need to find Kelly and eliminate her as a suspect. Or name her the suspect."

"She can wait. You need to go home and eat some sugar or something, you look pale."

"If the killer struck four days before they were supposed to, then they could strike again! Tonight!" Ralph sat up, looking at Tweek in disbelief. He'd usually be all over this new suspect, why wasn't he?

The truck rolled to a stop and Tweek turned to Ralph, his eyebrows knit together. "You've already been attacked by the killer first hand, what makes you think that they won't kill you this time around? What if it is Kelly? What if she kills us? You?"

Ralph shook his head. "Tweek, what are you getting at? I'm doing this to protect you guys- so be it if I die, no one would care anyway," he scoffed, watching Tweek in confusion. The blonde glared at Ralph before looking back to the road.

"You're right. You aren't him; you're just a stranger."

Chapter Text

Chapter Ten

Ralph knocked on Lizzy’s door, Tweek taking the time to look in through the front windows because he didn’t want to talk to her first if she answered.

There was a grey car in the driveway but Ralph didn’t hear anyone coming to the door and Tweek didn’t say anything about seeing anyone.

“Anyone home? Hello!” Ralph knocked again, calling through the door. The only person to notice him was Tweek, who looked over before looking back inside of the window. Ralph sighed and dropped his hand to his side, stepping away from the door to look up at the rest of the house. It was a short two story, probably just a single staircase inside. It looked calm, though; with a sense of comfy loneliness.

Hearing Tweek exhale, Ralph looked over at the blonde and saw him on his phone.

“It’s almost nine o’clock, she could be working a night shift somewhere,” the blonde said, his phone light illuminating his face. Ralph pointed off to the sitting car.

“Her car’s here, though.”

“Maybe she walked; we don’t know where she works. We’ll come back in the morning.” Tweek put his phone up and looked at Ralph before lightly shrugging and walking back to the truck, his companion following a hesitant moment after. When they got inside of the truck, Ralph pulled out the note of addresses to look at.

“We could still go to Lola’s house, she could be home,” he said.

“We could but she lives on the other side of town. Henrietta said that she can get us into the morgue after hours, when the WPPD aren’t there. Well, they’re gonna have a guard outside, but she can still get us in.”

“And when are “after hours”?”

“Just about now.” Tweek started the truck and Ralph leaned against the passenger’s door again, closing his eyes to rest while his shoulder throbbed.

Burns were the worst pain. If anything touched it, it made his body shiver; hairs stand up in a sensitivity that made him hurt more if anything brushed them. The added pain to that though, was that he had been shot and it left his body feeling heavy, his heart beating slow. Maybe Henrietta had something for the pain, because Ibuprofen wasn’t enough and she was a mortician- maybe she knew some tips. Maybe. She was an expert in the dead and they didn’t feel much of anything.

Driving to the hospital, there were some bumps in the road from the town needing worked on but no one wanting to put in the work. From what Ralph had gathered, the mayor wasn’t doing much- if anything at all. The road though, made Ralph’s shirt rub over his wound, making him wince and put a hand over his face in irritation of the pain. Tweek didn’t look at him, or glance over. He simply kept driving.


There was a guard outside of the hospital, walking a small pace near the doors while smoking a cigarette. He didn’t look too big, or stocky- something that Ralph had noticed with a few others of WPPD. What was it like there, to allow the department to investigate South Park? Peaceful? Ordered?

Tweek parked the truck at the side of the hospital before looking at Ralph, whose eyes were already open because he couldn’t rest well.

“Henrietta said that we can go in the emergency entrance; she’ll wait at the morgue doors to give us confirmation if we need it,” the blonde said while opening his door and Ralph breathed deep before sitting up to get out, too.

“She’s sure the WPPD aren’t here?”

“No, they are. The lead detective is giving her the night to do the autopsy and will be back in the morning so Henrietta’s alone in the morgue but, they have heavy security tonight for Mysterion in case he shows up: because word is he’s been shot.”

Ralph shook his head and got out of the truck, shutting his door and walking around the front to Tweek. Their conversation ended there because Ralph was really too tired to add anything to the subject and Tweek wasn’t too fond of talking to him tonight to carry on.

Walking to the emergency entrance, the two walked in the automatic doors and turned down a left hall, following the hanging signs of which directions to go because Tweek always got lost in hospitals, and because Ralph couldn’t tell him that he had the place virtually memorized.

Down the hallway, they walked passed the emergency waiting room: it was full with families waiting to be checked, children wearing filtering masks and tired adults letting them sleep on their laps. There was a flu virus going around South Park, apparently.

To the left of the waiting room, there were two sets of elevators and Tweek stopped to look at a hospital map on the wall to find which one would take them down since he was only used to going to the morgue up front. Since he was taking a while figuring it out, Ralph pressed the button instead on elevator L, the doors opening to its vacancy and Tweek stepping in quickly after the brunette did.

When neither moved to press the floor’s button, Ralph looked at Tweek.

“Can we just like, fix whatever it is that’s going on between us?” he asked, stepping forward to press the basement’s button. Only elevator L allowed access down there, Ralph learned from the map.

“There is nothing,” Tweek said stubbornly, crossing his arms as the elevator doors closed. Ralph rolled his eyes.

“God, you’re so annoying.”

Tweek’s mouth fell open and he narrowed his eyes at Ralph before uncrossing his arms to push the man. Since he was unsuspecting, Ralph lost his balance and fell against the elevator’s side wall, making the elevator box wiggle.

“Tweek!” he scoffed, pushing off of the wall and rubbing his arm that hit the handicap rail. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you! You’re just a stranger! Why not leave!” Tweek pushed Ralph again, the brunette catching himself on the rail. Narrowing his eyes at Tweek, Ralph scoffed again, tossing up a hand.

“Why not? Why are you throwing such a fit when you’re the one who got me in this!”

“Because I thought that you could be my friend, and you could solve this case, and I could trust you- but now you’re just acting different! You’re getting… too involved!” Tweek stepped to Ralph like he was going to do something, but just then the elevator doors opened, catching both Ralph and Tweek’s attention.

Standing at the open doors was David Rodriguez; a lanyard around his neck with a picture ID saying VISITOR: WPPD DET. RODRIGUEZ. The worst part about that was his confused, serious expression towards the two.

“...Is there something going on?” he asked, his accent still as present as childhood. Tweek looked at Ralph before looking back at David and shrugging.

“No.” Motioning for Ralph to follow him, Tweek stepped out of the elevator, walking passed David. Ralph tried to do the same, but the WPPD on the ID made him somewhat nervous, and just before he got passed the detective, a hand was clasped over his shoulder- over his wound.

Keeping the expression of pain to a minimum, Ralph looked at David, the detective looking at the brunette with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Excuse me, but do I know you?” the detective asked, trying hard to pin the other man somewhere in his mind. Ralph just smiled and shook his head.

“No, but I get that a lot. Maybe it’s the hair?”

“No, more like the eyes.” David let Ralph go, patting his shoulder with a smile. It sent all sorts of pain through Ralph, though. “Sorry about that. You two should go on your way, don’t let me stop you,” he said, looking at Tweek and pointing. “I know you, though.” His voice was kind and he was being friendly, but Tweek rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Just then, David pulled his phone from his pocket as it started ringing. From the ID, it read Kyle, and Ralph furrowed his eyebrows.

He said he hates phones, though. Stuck in a little childish betrayal, Tweek had to reach out and grab the man, pulling him along down the hall and away from Det. Rodriguez.

Looking at the signs hanging on the ceiliengs for directions, the morgue was straight ahead and then down a small set of stairs. As the two approached the morgue doors, there was no Henrietta waiting for them. There was, though, the sound of arguing inside.

“...We aren’t going in without Henrietta,” Tweek said when Ralph looked at him for what to do. Not even a moment later, the two could hear footsteps approaching and the doors swung open, barely missing hitting the two by inches.

Lead Det. Micheal stormed out of the morgue, so overtaken by frustration and annoyance that he didn’t even notice Ralph or Tweek, shaking his head and muttering something under his breath, his curly hair barely bouncing since it was trimmed from its old goth look. For being an adult and a lead detective, his eyes still looked dark and his skin was still pale.

“You two coming or what?” Henrietta sounded from the doors and the two looked at her, the woman holding a door open.

Tweek and Ralph followed her down the hall through the doors, passed some rooms for identification and storage. Tweek didn’t know this way because this was the area for drop-off, when Henrietta always brought them in from a visitor’s sort.

Walking after Henrietta, the woman didn’t have any gum and she didn’t look like she wanted to be talkative; or fun, for that matter. Today was just an off day for everyone.

“Ralph got shot as Mysterion,” Tweek said suddenly, Henrietta scoffing immediately after and looking at Ralph, who groaned and shook his head.

“Why are you always throwing me under? It’s not like it was on purpose, asshole!”

“You didn’t go to a hospital, did you?” Henrietta asked and Ralph shook his head.

“No, someone helped me.”

“Good. ...It’s okay then.”

“How is that okay? Scold him,” Tweek argued.

“Tweek, go and get us some coffee. Down to the right,” Henrietta sighed and Tweek stared at her before looking at Ralph. The latter man quirked a brow at Tweek and nodded in the direction and the blonde exclaimed loudly before storming off in the direction.

“...I swear, he must be mental. Come on.” Henrietta walked through a set of double doors and Ralph followed, rubbing his forehead at the whole entirety of the night.

Walking to an empty surgical table, the woman picked up a folder that was on its underside, along with a voice recorder. Then she looked at Ralph and motioned around the empty morgue.

“Notice: no body?” she asked, the brunette looking around before nodding slowly.

“Good. That’s the exact reason why I wanted the body picked up before the WPPD got it. They’re greedy bastards and snagged it up as soon as I finished my report.” She shook her head in disgust and Ralph looked at the floor.

To be honest, he had tried to get the body. It was just tied up way too good.

“So, we’ve got my report to work with,” Henrietta dropped the folder onto the table, opening it and pulling out the photographs that she had taken of the corpse. Looking at Ralph, she held up the recorder. “I want us to start without Tweek. For the purpose of: I think he needs a break.” Then she clicked play.

This is lead coroner Henrietta Biggle at the Hell’s Pass morgue conducting the autopsy report for case number 135. With me, I have lead Detective Micheal Goth, his partner Detective Rodriguez, and Cheif Director Mike Makowski of the WPPD. If I could have everyone announce their names into the recorder for voice recognition..”

Micheal Goth, lead detective of the WPPD.”

David Rodriguez, second detective of the WPPD.”

Chief Directer Mike Makowski of the WPPD.”

Before we begin, the current time seven thirty pm, Aug. 12th. Now then..

From the lack of post mortem lividity, and the fact that the rigor mortis is still active, I put the time of death at about… five thirty p.m.”

Ralph could hear some cracking sounds, probably Henrietta working out the rigor mortis from the joints.

Can you determine the cause of death?” Mike asked, and it was so weird to hear his voice. So, goth kids Henrietta and Micheal are coroners and detectives, and vampire kid Mike is Micheal’s boss. Wow.

Well, the body certainly does have the same ligature marks as the other victims- consistent with strangulation by hand. But...” Henrietta flipped open her folder, grabbing the autopsy photographs and laying them out for Ralph to look at, to which he did. There was heavy bruising around the neck, heavily irritated. “I can tell here, that the marks are… unconsistent. It looks as though the suspect had tightened and loosened their grip, repeatedly.”

Explain,” Micheal said, and Henrietta paused for a moment.

Strangulation by hand gets… tiring. How long can you keep a tight grip on something? Try it out, it takes a lot.”

Then why isn’t this on the other autopsy reports? For the other victims?”

They must not have taken too much to kill. Your killer has a revival ritual, right? I don’t see any bruising on the chest to prove any occurrence of resuscitation.”

Which means that they loosened and tightened their grip to keep the victim alive,” David stated, mind blown.

Yes. Your killer wanted them on the brink of life and death- their life in their hands. Which also means that this is one of your longer surviving victims.”

Continue with the autopsy,” Mike sounded, and then there was shuffling from Henrietta as she walked to another angle.

The eyes are foggy, consistent with death by strangulation- white, beige… haunting. The strangulation may be the COD, but notice the discoloration in the whites of the victim’s eyes? Blunt force head trauma- repeatedly. From the looks of it, your victim seems to be missing some large chunks in the head.” Henrietta tapped a photo, Ralph looking after her black nails. It was Bradley’s head, clean from his body being washed before the autopsy, but it was evident that he had been abused. There were chunks of hair missing from the impact of some weapon pulling up his scalp and skull- some of his brain visible with shattered bone pieces.

Any suggestion of what could have done that?” Mike asked, a sigh from Henrietta after.

Things like axes tend to bash the skull in, things like bats tend to shatter the skull and mash the brain, but something that could pull chunks of the skull and scalp up without being long enough to damage the brain could be… it’d have to be something light, with a quick momentum, but sharp edges to catch the scalp and pull it back up with it,” she continued.

Probably home-made?” David asked.

Yep. Probably home-made. I count five spots where the weapon was used. Only one, though, looks older than the rest.”

Older?” Mike asked.

Yeah. On these ones, you can see how the healing process hasn’t started. On this one, though, you can see the irritation. You said that your killer incapacitates the victims first? This wound may be the very one that first knocked them out.”

Then why the others?” Micheal asked, his voice irritated.

I don’t know if you can tell or not, but this victim has wounds totally different than the others. This looks like a crime of passion. They were kept alive longer, the BFHT was enough to incapacitate but not kill… This murder is like a drop of red in a sea of white- it’s unique, different,” Henrietta said, shuffling as she moved again.

Why do you think that?” David asked, confused and curious.

Let’s finish the autopsy, please,” Mike spoke up again.

Okay. The wrists seem to have ligatures, probably kept tied. The left has a nick, but it appears to be from after death. Let’s take a look in his mouth…

Jesus. Okay, this is different. Our victim seems to have lost his tongue. Seems to be cut from… just underneath the uvula. This seems to have been done… not too long after the first hit to the head.”

Keep moving,” Mike said.

Henrietta showed Ralph a photo of Bradley with his mouth open, his tongue missing like Henrietta had said. It truly looked horrifying. Like, Ralph would have nightmares.

His insides look in place, no bruising or ruptures. The ribs also look completely intact, inconsistent with hands on resuscitation; different than the other victims.”

Are you sure?” Micheal asked, and Henrietta could be heard scoffing lightly under her breath.

Yes, I’m sure. Usually when conducing CPR, the ribs suffer breaks, or fractures, or bruising. Your victim’s ribs look very good. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to move on to the stomach contents.” Henrietta walked in the room, getting her things before going back to the body.

Alright, I’m now removing the stomach from the victim’s body for further inspection,” she said to the recorder. “Alright, the victim still has what appears to have a fairly empty stomach- what is that?”

What is it?” Micheal asked.

...It looks like… hair.” Henrietta walked in the room again, asking for some assistance with a magnifying glass. “Yeah… The victim seems to have ingested some hair- possibly blonde.”

Gross, he was one of those hair eaters?” Mike asked.

No, it isn’t formed. This must have been ingested just before death. In Pip Pirrup’s case file, wasn’t he missing a lock of hair?” Henrietta asked, and there was the sound of the men in the room speaking about it.

Yeah, now that you mention it, there was,” Micheal stated.

...Then this might be that missing lock.”

Henrietta stopped the recording, putting the player on the table and picking up a photograph.

“This is that hair,” she said, showing it to Ralph. The man looked at it, despite his queasiness. It looked a little lumped together, but it wasn’t quite a hairball or anything.

“...So, this was a… unique crime?” he asked.

“No. It was passionate. Something affected your killer enough to do this- maybe someone made him upset, maybe someone made him excited. Either way, Bradley really suffered a terrible few hours. Torture- pure torture.” Henrietta looked at Ralph, putting the photos back up. “You’d better find this killer, Ralph. Tweek and my brother are at risk- not to mention yourself. They’re only gonna get worse, especially with their pattern changing.”

Ralph sighed and shook his head, watching her. “I don’t have the slightest idea of who to look for- it could be male or female, shy or outgoing, and now they apparently make their own weapons.”

“Put yourself in their shoes, Ralph. You lost your infatuation at fifteen years old. What would you do?”

“Move on!”

“Wrong. You would be devastated- for years. Possibly even decades. You would grow an attachment to morbid things; learn about death, how long it takes for the body to die, how much the body can withstand. You, if obsessed enough, would try committing your own observations. Some people are born to be killers, Ralph, and some are made to be killers. What do you think our killer is?” Henrietta asked, crossing her arms. Ralph just shook his head again.

“...Years of abuse would make a killer. From the way our killer does things, it’s organized, sort of… natural.”

“Would you say that their murders are, in a sense, beautiful?”

“Probably… unique.”


“They pose and toss their victims.”

“I would say that a created killer would toss their victims. They don’t care about appearances, just about the thrill of the murder, the torture; the hatred. Yet, a natural born killer would see the beauty in it, like how people are born artists- a natural eye. They understand that we are all born equal on this earth, so they show respect in their murders. Angry, made killers, have a sense of superiority. Now, I’ll ask again,” Henrietta uncrossed her arms to hold up the folder, pointing at it. “What sort of killer did this?”

“...Both. They were born with the potential to be a killer, but it was McCormick’s death that brought it out- gave them clarity.”

Henrietta smiled and nodded. “Now you understand. They share a hatred for their victims because of that they lost, but they also see a beauty because of what could have been.”

Ralph dropped his gaze to the floor, his gut stirring. This really was all his fault. What a way to be remembered, that’s for sure.

When he wanted to wallow, he suddenly remembered Tweek, and how he was still gone.

“Where’s Tweek?” he asked, looking back up. Henrietta put the folder down, exhaling.

“There’s not actually a coffee stand, it’s a lounge with a TV. Tweek likes watching commercials.”



“Henrietta, there’s something...”

“You want to tell me?”


“Is it the reason you weren’t answering my phone calls?”

Ralph blinked, shocked, but Henrietta just shrugged.

“I can smell coffee on you. And sex. Like Sex and Candy, but sex and coffee,” Henrietta smirked at her own words, a fan of the song by the looks of it. Ralph sighed though and rubbed his neck.

“...Yeah. You said that Bradley was murdered at about five thirty, but that he was held longer.”

“From about three to five, yeah.”

“Yeah. Me and ...Tweek were together from about four to five..”

Henrietta stayed silent for a moment before tilting her head. “Is this a guilt thing? Do you think you could have stopped it somehow? Because you couldn’t. This killer has already claimed more than fifteen lives- why would you be able to save one?”

“I don’t know, maybe-”

“Maybe not. If the WPPD was doing their job how they were supposed to, they would be on a steady trail to finding the killer. You have leads already, right?”

“...Yeah, we’re gonna talk to McCormick’s ex girlfriend.”

“See? You and Tweek are civilians and have a lead, the WPPD has a whole entire department and nothing. Don’t blame yourself- blame them.”

“You sound like you have a vendetta,” Ralph said, light heartedly to lighten the mood a little bit because Henrietta’s anger was radiating death, but she stayed straight faced.

“...I want them out of our town as soon as possible.” She closed her eyes, breathing through her nose. After a moment, she looked back at Ralph, a little calmer. “Go get Tweek and get some rest, make sure you both drink plenty of water.” Stepping to Ralph, she put a hand on his back to lead him to the doors. “And he’ll be normal in the morning, so forget about whatever made him upset. He’ll probably be shy or something.”

Looking back at Henrietta, Ralph furrowed his eyebrows. “But, what about you?”

“What about me? I gotta clean up before I go home- I sent my brother out of state, too. Go on, get out of here.” She pushed him out of the doors, the man watching her before sighing.

“...Thanks, Henrietta.”

“Don’t thank me, I’m just a weirdo. Actually, you can bring me gum next time you guys see me.”

Ralph smiled, Henrietta breaking into one too. Then she waved the brunette off, frowning.

“Get out of here, I’m not some charity.”

Ralph snorted before nodding and walking away, down the hall and to the right where Tweek had gone. Henrietta watched him, exhaling through her nose.

“...Damn basketcases.” She turned on her heel, stepping back inside her room of death.

Chapter Text

Henrietta was right. In the morning, Tweek made extra coffee, along with some donuts he had bought from a shop while Ralph slept. Because, Ralph actually over slept.

Waking up, the man was sore. So sore. Especially in his shoulder. Sitting up in bed, he didn’t want to get up for the day, but he did, going to the kitchen when he smelled coffee.

Since Tweek couldn’t really cook, he didn’t try. That left the only smell in the house ever being coffee. There was no bacon or eggs for breakfast, no steak dinners. Nah, the only time the house smelled like food, was when Ralph cooked their canned or frozen goods, because that’s all Tweek ever had money for.

Tweek sat on the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee. When Ralph entered, he looked at him.

“I bought donuts,” the blonde said. Ralph nodded.

“I can tell.” Ralph walked to the coffee, getting himself a cup. He visibly winced at the pain of a muscle in his wound twitching when he moved his arm. Tweek hopped down from the table, walking to Ralph and clearing his throat.

“I decided...” he bit his cheek. “That I’m gonna find Kelly.”

“I know, I’m going with you.”

“No, you’re not.” Tweek crossed his arms after putting his coffee on the counter. “You’re staying here.”

Ralph scoffed. “What? Tweek, do you know how dangerous that it?”

“Yeah. That’s why you’re staying. The killer won’t kill someone the day after, they need time for the heat to wear down.”

“Don’t talk shit, Tweek- you can’t go alone.”

Tweek put a hand on Ralph’s shoulder, looking him in the eye. “I am.” He slid his hand down the back of Ralph’s shoulder and pressed his fingers roughly against the wound, making Ralph cry out and duck away.

“Ow, man!”

Tweek pat Ralph’s head before walking passed him, leaving the kitchen. “Don’t leave!” he called, and then Ralph heard the front door shut.

He groaned.


It was a twelve minute drive to Kelly’s house from Tweek and Ralph’s. When he got there, Clyde’s ugly car was parked outside.


Tweek walked up to the front door, knocking. Why the hell was Clyde even here?

The front door opened after a minute to Kelly, the woman in a robe with her hair up in a messy bun. She tilted her head a little at Tweek.

“Hello? What are you doing here?”

Tweek crossed his arms. “Can I ask you some things?”

Kelly raised her eyebrows in surprise before shrugging and nodding. “Sure, come in.” Waving him in, the woman glanced back at him. “Mind if I get dressed? You can sit where you want,” she said while walking off, into the hallway off to the side. Tweek puffed and looking around.

Pink carpet fibers found on a few of the victims.”

The floor had pink carpeting. Although, so did eighty percent of the town. It was still something to note, though.

Tweek walked to the couch, sitting on it and putting an elbow on his knee, his chin on his hand. On the walls, there were a few degrees. Medical, psychology, one in teaching, one in forensics.

“Kelly, you got any hidden soda?” Clyde called out, making Tweek look over in… annoyance. He really was there, walking out of the kitchen.

Tweek stayed silent so that Clyde wouldn’t notice him, but it was like he had a Tweek radar, and he looked straight at the blonde. He grinned.

“Tweek! Hey, what are you doing here?” The brunette walked over to the couch, plopping down beside Tweek. Tweek looking at the wall.

“I’m here for your girlfriend.”

Clyde laughed. “Kelly’s not my girlfriend, I’m just staying here with her since I got evicted.”


“That doesn’t mean we can’t-”

“Okay, what is it you need?” Kelly sounded, coming back into the living room and cutting off whatever Clyde was going to suggest. Clyde sat back in the couch, turned off. Tweek just looked at Kelly.

“I figure you’d probably rather talk to me than Ethan, whose leading the WPPD on the serial killer in town. Since he likes to use his brute on both women and men.”

“Hell yeah dude, that old goth fag is one mean fucker- I got a DUI once in West Park and he broke my fucking nose!” Clyde chimed in, shaking his head. Kelly sighed.

“Okay… but I don’t know what exactly you’re here for.” She sat in a chair, crossing her legs. Tweek cleared his throat.

“We know that whoever’s killing these people had a relationship of some sort with Kenny.”

Kelly furrowed her eyebrows before gasping. “You think I did this? Tweek, I can’t believe you!”

“Where were you yesterday? From three to five?”

“Uh, she was at work; I can vouch for that,” Clyde said.

“From what times?”

“Nine to five- Clyde picked be up because I don’t have a car,” Kelly said, watching Tweek. “You think that it’s me because I dated Kenny when we were kids? We were kids, I’ve moved on.”

Tweek shrugged. “Some people don’t move on. Those certificates, where did you receive them?”

“North Park when I was young. I’m not the only one, Craig, Kyle, and Lizzy went to college there, too. Even Cartman.”

“Honestly, Tweek, Kelly’s no killer,” Clyde said, leaning forward on the couch. He looked at Tweek. “Tell us what you know, and we’ll say yes or no.”

Tweek crossed his arms. “Fine. Two years ago, seven people were killed in North Park; by our serial killer.”

Kelly shook her head. “I was there yeah, but I swear I didn’t do this. I didn’t do those, either. I lived on the other side of town- I already told the North Park police when it happened that I was at classes when two of the murders took place; they ruled me out.”

Tweek bit his cheek. That did rule her out. And if she killed the other five, that still meant that someone else had killed the two she was ruled out for.

“Alright. Well, whoever did those murders in North Park was practicing for these murders here. It’s someone who knows our town, because they’ve been able to hide for so long,” he said. Kelly nodded, glad to be innocent.

“Yeah, I believe that.”

“Well, Craig’s dead,” Clyde stated, “And Cartman would never kill blonde guys, he’s straight and loves ‘em.”

“Was there anyone else who stayed in North Park at the time?” Tweek asked, watching Kelly as she thought.

“I mean, there was Lizzy- have you talked to her yet?”

“No, she wasn’t home.”

“Really? That’s kind of weird. But, she did say once that her dad was sick, so she could be with him upstate.” Kelly cleared her throat, looking at the ceiling so that she could think harder. Who else went to school with her?

She gasped so loud that it made Tweek jump. She pointed at him.

“Kyle! He was studying teaching and psychology with me! God, he was so quiet in class I almost forgot it was him,” Kelly said to herself, shaking her head. Then she nodded, looking at Tweek. “It’s got to be Kyle, he was studying criminology too.”

Clyde looked at Tweek, who was standing up.

“Does that mean it’s Kyle? Tweek, you’d better not be going to talk to him!” the man called after Tweek, who was hurrying outside to his truck.


Ralph looked at his phone as it vibrated.

Tweek: Itss Kyle

Tweek: Im on my way back

Ralph blinked, furrowing his eyebrows at the phone. “What?”

He left his bed to Tweek’s office, where he knew a phone book was. Snatching it up and flipping through it, he searched for Kyle’s name. It was there, with his phone number.

Dialing the number in, Kenny called Kyle. It was a missed call, so he called again. Then again.

“Hello?” Kyle finally answered. Kenny cleared his throat.

“Um, hey- It’s Kenny.”

“Oh, hey. I was wondering if you’d want to come over today.”


“Yeah, I was thinking that we could catch up some. You know, on what we’ve missed.”

Catch up with Kyle? On lost times? Hearing that at all made him remember Kyle in that robe that one night- when he looked so…

“I can’t,” Kenny managed, looking at the walls of Tweek’s office. They were lined with newspaper articles, of pictures of the victims. Some pictures, even, of them in the morgue. He looked down. “I was needing to ask you something,” he said, and Kyle sighed from his side of the phone.

“Hold on, Stan’s drunk and won’t stop bugging me.”

“Wait, does that mean you’re at Bamcoe’s?”

“Well, yeah, Stan likes their beer. I know, I know, it’s early. He and Wendy fought, so he forced me to come here.” There was a sound of the phone clattering, but then Kyle picked it back up. “I’ve got to go, I’m gonna take Stan home. Can whatever you needed wait?”

“No, not really-”

“Okay, I’ll see you tonight- my place, right? Let’s do seven. See you-” Kyle hung up before he even finished talking, and Kenny looked at his phone.



“We need more evidence,” Ralph said to Tweek, who was glaring at him. The blonde scowled.

“How much more evidence do we need? He was never interrogated, he studied psychology and criminology! He was taught to manipulate! He has a killer’s mind!”

...Both. They were born with the potential to be a killer, but it was McCormick’s death that brought it out- gave them clarity.”

“This is a serious crime, Tweek. He could get the death penalty. I just think-”

“You don’t just think!” Tweek shoved Ralph, forcing the man to stumble back because he hadn’t been expecting it. “This is a serial killer! He doesn’t think! He’s been killing me friends! He’ll kill us!” Tweek pushed Ralph again, his eyes glazing over. Ralph caught himself this time, exhaling through his nose as he watched Tweek.

“What am I even supposed to do, huh? I’m not a cop, I can’t arrest him. Are we gonna call the WPPD? Let them kill him before arresting him? Am I supposed to go there and kill him myself!” he ended up yelling at Tweek, scaring the blonde and making a tear spill because he was so angry.

How could Ralph not want to arrest him? He was killer for gods’ssake- Kyle had killed eighteen people! Ralph didn’t even know him, why would he care now?

“Are you fucking him or something!”

“No! I just want more evidence! You haven’t even talked to him! You haven’t asked him anything! You said he was trustworthy!”

“Because psychopaths always are!”

Ralph grabbed Tweek’s upper arms, pulling him close so that he could look him in the eye.

“Let me talk to him tonight. I’ll look at his house, and look at all of his shit, and if he’s this fucking killer, then we’ll tell Henrietta and she’ll deal with it- okay?”

Tweek stared at Ralph through narrowed eyes. He pulled himself out of the man’s hold, reaching up to wipe his cheek bitterly.

“Fine. Don’t blame me when he fucks you up.” He turned from Ralph, to go to his study.


Knocking on Kyle’s front door, Kenny had his other hand in his coat pocket, looking down. What if it really was Kyle? ...Why would he kill Bradley if he knew that Kenny was alive? Why make it so… horrible?

There were details missing. Something was wrong.

The front door opened to Kyle, in normal clothes. He motioned Kenny inside.

“I have coffee made if you want some,” he said, watching Kenny as he entered. The man chuckled and shook his head.

“No, I think I get too much of that.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow at him but shrugged, walking to the couch. “Okay, suit yourself.” He pat the couch. “You can sit here,” he said, noticing that Kenny had been looking at the separate seats instead. The brunette swallowed, nodding.

“Okay.” He sat on the couch beside Kyle, leaving a gap. Kyle scoot on the couch to close it. He looked at Kenny.

“What’s wrong with you? Even being older, I can tell there’s something up.”

Kenny cleared his throat, contemplating. He really didn’t want to bring anything up about the murders, or Kyle being the primary suspect.

“Someone said that you were doing college in North Park at the start of these murders.”

Kyle quirked an eyebrow. “Straight to the point?”

“...Why didn’t they investigate you?” Kenny asked, looking at Kyle. The redhead watched him a moment before shrugging lightly.

“I guess no one knew I existed. You think I’d kill people?”

Kenny sighed. “I mean, you told me when I first came to town that you hate blondes. And people are killed at the school where you teach-”

“You’re right, I was devastated when you died. And yeah, I’m still not over it. But, do you think that would make me kill people?”

Kenny didn’t respond. Kyle leaned back on the couch, looking at the man.

“I can’t tell you where I was when Bradley died. I always come home after work, and I have no one who can validate that. Sorry that you think I’m a killer- I can’t prove that I’m not.”

“Just- are you?” Kenny looked at Kyle. Kyle shook his head.

“No. It doesn’t matter what I say, though, does it? Tweek’s in control of you, isn’t he? He’s going to always think it’s me until he finds another suspect- it doesn’t matter what I say. But no, I’m not a serial killer.”

Kenny sighed. “...I don’t know how I can believe you.”

“If I was the killer, I could have killed already, right? I would’ve killed you right when you told me who you were.” Kyle shook his head, getting up from the couch. He stretched, and Kenny watched the way his thin body moved.

“Since I’ll be called the killer whether I did it or not, answer something for me; before I get killed in prison.” The redhead looked back at Kenny, who glanced away so that he wouldn’t get caught watching him.

“Why did you fake your death?”

Kenny groaned, putting his face in his hands. “I don’t fucking know- I was fifteen! I got tired of no one remembering me dying, so I thought that that would make you guys remember. I don’t even know how you managed to remember this time.”

Kyle put a hand on Kenny’s head, feeling his hair. “Why do you listen to Tweek?”


Because is never an answer. If you need a place to stay, you can stay here; with me.”

Kenny moved his hands to look up at Kyle. The redhead laughed at the other man’s eyes.

“I’m still pissed over your suicide shit, but you’re still my friend.”

Friend. Friend zoned. Kenny sighed.

“...Yeah, friends.”

Kyle gave him a look when he said that.

“Why’d you say it like that?”

Kenny rolled his eyes at himself. Why did he say it like that? Idiot! “Nothing, nothing, I just-”

“Come upstairs, follow me.” Kyle tugged Kenny’s coat, the blonde staring at him.

What? Come with him where?

“Come on.” Kyle left Kenny to the staircase, where he started heading up. He looked back at Kenny and waved him over. Kenny got up, walking up the stairs.

Was he going to get kissed? Killed? Kissed and killed?

Kenny followed Kyle to a room- a bedroom. His bedroom.

“Kyle, before anything happens..”

Kyle turned to face Kenny, his gaze cast downward. “...I don’t know if, it’s the same for you- to me, but… I-”

“Like you,” Kenny cut in, making Kyle look at him. “...I like you, Kyle.” He cleared his throat, because his voice sounded funny to him.

Kyle didn’t say anything for a moment, just watching Kenny. Then he broke a smile.

“...I was gonna say that.”

Kenny coughed, clearing his throat more. He rubbed his neck. “...Yeah? I mean...” This is a joke, he must be playing me! Idiot, idiot-

Kyle reached out, putting his hands on Kenny’s cheeks.

“Since Tweek is going to get me arrested no matter my innocence, why don’t you… stay the night?”

Kenny nodded, his mouth dry. “...Okay.”

Kyle smiled at him, his dark lips more than inviting.

Chapter Text

Kenny woke in the morning to the sun shining in his face, through the window’s partially open curtains.

In bed beside him was Kyle, his slim torso looking elegant in the sun’s rays, with the blanket pooled at his thin waist. On the nape of his neck, light hickeys.

Kyle panted over Kenny, rolling his hips over the blonde’s cock and bracing his hands on the man’s chest for support. Kenny thrust his hips up against Kyle, burying himself in deeper when the redhead went down. Kyle tossed his head back with a moan.


Kenny’s phone rang from the floor, pulling the man from his perverted memories. He climbed out of bed to fetch the ringing device when Kyle rolled in bed, moaning in discomfort but still sleeping.

“Hello?” Kenny answered the phone, keeping his voice low so that he wouldn’t wake Kyle.

“Where the hell are you? Did you stay the night?” Tweek sounded into the phone, voice loud. Kenny just shook his head.

“What do you need?”

“Wherever the fuck you are, get here because we need to talk to some people.”

Kenny hung the phone up and grabbed his clothes from the floor, with the pale, pink carpeting. More than half of South Park had this flooring, that couldn’t rule Kyle a killer.

Glancing back at Kyle’s sleeping form, Kenny slipped out of the room after dressing to leave, going downstairs.


The people they were meeting were, shockingly, Micheal and Token. Henrietta wasn’t there, so it was best assumed that it was because of her and Micheal’s… discomfort for each other.

Token ordered them all coffee, the four sitting in the cafe. Micheal went right to business.

“You said you know who the killer is,” he said to Tweek, watching him. The blonde nodded.


“It’s a theory,” Ralph added, making Tweek give him a look. Micheal pulled out a notepad, flopping it onto the table like Henrietta does her folders.

“And why do you think this?” Micheal asked.

“I talked to someone the other day, she said that five South Parkateers, including her, went to college in North Park, where the murders first started. Out of those five, one is dead, one has alibis, and one is Cartman. That leaves Kyle,” Tweek said.

Micheal wrote the information down, quick and aggressively, like he was always upset. He glanced up from the paper at Tweek. “Names?”

“Craig, Lizzy, Kelly, Cartman, and Kyle. Craig’s dead, both Lizzy and Kelly have alibis, and Cartman would just never do this.”

“So you’re saying it’s Kyle?” Micheal asked, his pen scratching along his paper as he wrote the new information down. The coffee arrived and David started passing the cups out, he and Micheal drinking their’s straight away as though they hadn’t slept.

“What if I told you we found a body recently?” Micheal sounded, putting his coffee down and lounging in his seat. Ralph looked at Tweek, but the other blonde just kept his eyes on Micheal.

“Who’s?” he asked. Micheal nodded towards David and the darker man cleared his throat, looking at the blondes.

“It was a literal FUBAR, but DNA analysis says it’s Kenny McCormick.”

Tweek shook his head. “No, Kenny killed himself when we were kids.”

“That’s where it gets confusing,” Micheal spoke up. “The body was around late twenties; we found it two days ago but kept it from the press because of Bradley’s death. Since it tested as McCormick, we dug up his grave to exhume his body, but it wasn’t there.”

Ralph kept his mouth shut, listening to the conversation. Someone stole his body from its grave? And… where did the police find his new corpse? It would have to be from the time he was attacked at Bamcoe’s, but… it’s all so confusing.

“What are you saying?” Tweek asked. Micheal looked at David, because he could explain better. David sighed.

“Okay. So, it was kept from media outlets back when it happened, but in North Park at the time the murders were being investigated, there was an abandoned house at the edge of town; covered in all sorts of incriminating evidence, including a skeleton. The skeleton was a male teen, dead for at least five years at the time. It didn’t fit the rest of the scene- there were boys and teenagers, the oldest victims being college students: all killed within a time range of a few months,” David continued, “But, people were starting to riot and the police and mayor were under pressure: they burned the house down to keep the victim count lower. No one knows about the incident, and all of that evidence is gone.”

Tweek shook his head in disbelief. “So there’s more victims.”

Micheal nodded. “And that skeleton was probably McCormick’s. That leaves one question though. Why did the body we recovered two days ago test positive for his DNA?” He looked at Ralph before looking back to Tweek, motioning. “I’m sorry, who is this?”

Tweek rolled his eyes. “That’s Ralph. He’s from out of town.”

“How far out of town?”

“States out of town.”

Ralph cleared his throat, speaking up. “We came up with the theory once that the killer was first ever provoked by Kenny McCormick’s suicide. If his grave was robbed, and his supposed skeleton found in a murder house, North Park destroyed the killer’s trophy home.”

Micheal nodded, clicking his tongue. “Yeah, North Park doesn’t know how to handle some good pressure. Fucking idiots. That aside, I know how… dedicated, you two are to the case. So, help us piece things together. Why did we find someone’s body saying they’re Kenny McCormick?” he crossed his arms. Tweek glanced at Ralph like he were asking for help, so Ralph sighed and started thinking.

He himself knows why they found the body; because it’s him, because he can come back to life. But that would be pure crazy talk, so what would Ralph come up with?

“Maybe he faked his suicide, but the killer got him for real this time,” he offered. It sounded dumb, but what wouldn’t right now?

“Identical twins share the same DNA,” Tweek said. “But… Kenny had a brother and sister, maybe you didn’t find Kenny’s body, but Kevin?”

Ralph would have to tell Tweek. Nudging the blonde, Ralph tried getting his attention discretely. The other blonde looked at him like he was weird and motioned.


“I uh… need to talk to you. In private.”

Tweek looked at Micheal and David. “We’ll be right back,” he said, David nodding while Micheal took to finishing his coffee. Tweek and Ralph slipped out of their booth and went to the bathroom, where there was a person inside washing their hands.

Tweek looked at Ralph. “Okay, what?”

Ralph glanced at the person, who was still washing their hands. He looked back at Tweek. “...Hold on.” Tweek rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall.

The person left the sink to the paper towels, but instead of using those, they stuck their hands underneath the air dryer. Ralph dragged a hand down his face.

A minute later, the person left, and Tweek looked at Ralph. “Can you talk now?” he asked flatly. Ralph nodded, defeated. He didn’t want to tell him anymore.

“I… have something to tell you. I mean, you probably won’t remember tomorrow or anything, so… I’ll have to tell you again-”

Tell me.”

“I’m him.”


“...Kenny. I’m Kenny.”

He didn’t think it would go like icing on the cake, but he didn’t expect Tweek to laugh. He did, though. Tweek was laughing at him.

“What did you want to tell me?”

“...I did. I’m Kenny.”

“Okay, it’s not funny anymore.”

“I know. Whenever I die, I respawn in the woods around Stark’s Pond, and then I find my body and toss it… in the pond, so that no one knows. I would tell you guys but no one remembered, so I killed myself once and instead of getting rid of the body, I just left town. That’s the skeleton that got dug up. And then that time when I got attacked at Bamcoe’s, I actually died. I don’t know where the cops found my body, but that was from that time.”

Tweek was silent, watching Ralph. Then he narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Ralph almost said it again, but Tweek shoved him. “You made a serial killer kill all these people because you faked your suicide?”

“I didn’t think-”

“You never think! You asshole! You’re seriously an asshole!” Tweek shoved him again, but Ralph grabbed the blonde’s wrists to stop him because it was kind of hurting.

“I’m trying to fix it, aren’t I? I’m helping look for the killer.”

Kyle is the killer! You were helping until I found out that it’s him!”

“Because it’s not!”

“And how do you know that?” Tweek asked, glaring at Kenny. Kenny just shook his head and let him go.

“I just do.”

Tweek dusted his hands on his pants like he had fallen in dirt, and he groaned loud in frustration. “I can’t believe I slept with you!”

Ralph pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling.

“God, you’re such and asshole now!” Tweek left to the door and Ralph watched him.

“Where are you going?”

“To tell Micheal and David! So we can connect all the dots now!”

Ralph stayed in the bathroom while Tweek left, annoyed. That was great.

He waited for about ten minutes before leaving the bathroom and going back to the table, where Micheal and David stood up after seeing him return. Micheal motioned for him to come over.

Swallowing, Ralph walked to the detectives. He cleared his throat. “Did he… tell you?” he asked. David nodded, carefully looking at Micheal because he was the unpredictable one.

“You’re coming with us for DNA and fingerprinting analysis,” Micheal said, to which Ralph just nodded, because he didn’t want to be shot trying to run or anything. It wasn’t like he did anything bad, really. He just sounded like a crazy man.

Walking to Ralph, Micheal grabbed him roughly by the arm and started pulling him along outside of the cafe. David followed with Tweek behind him, and Ralph was pushed Micheal’s black car. David got in the passenger’s seat while Micheal got in the driver’s, and Tweek never got in. Ralph looked out the window for him, seeing the blonde getting into his own truck.

“Is he not coming?” he asked the detectives, Micheal starting the car but not answering. David cleared his throat.

“No, he said he has business to take care of,” he said. Ralph stomped his foot in the back floorboard, Michel looking at him through the review mirror, glaring.

Ralph huffed. “So, where exactly am I going?”

“West Park. To our forensics team. Since South Park can’t afford anything,” Michel said, driving.

David’s phone went off and Ralph watched as the man pulled his phone from his pocket. The screen read Kyle: 970-234-5479. He ended up putting his phone away, probably because he was on business, but Ralph made sure to copy the number into his phone.

He wanted to text Kyle and warn him that Tweek might come by, but if Kyle ran or anything, that would just make him look suspicious. Instead, he just saved the number for another time. Tweek probably wasn’t even going to do anything, yet.


“So, the NPPD burned down the place where the suspect could have been staying?” Clyde asked, leaning against his car. Tweek nodded.

“...Do you want to go there?” he asked again when Tweek just stood there, pondering a lot of things. The blonde looked up from the snow at that though, looking at Clyde.


Clyde shrugged. “I mean, it’s a lead, right? Maybe you could even talk to the college Kyle went to, I don’t know.” He scratched his head. “As long as you aren’t putting yourself in any danger.”

Tweek crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at Clyde. “I’m not stupid.” He walked around Clyde’s car to get in the driver’s seat, having found the man working at the grocery store and asking for a ride because his truck was low. Under the agreement that Clyde wouldn’t touch him or get in his space.

Clyde got in the driver’s seat, glancing at Tweek as the blonde shut his door. “...So, why are you doing this if you know it’s Kyle?”

“Because I need proof! Kyle’s a smart ass, so if the police arrest him just on suspicion, or because things make sense, he can talk his way out because of lack of evidence.”

“Wow. You’ve thought that through.”

“I know.”

Clyde drove them to North Park, a good twenty minutes away. Since all the information they had was “on the edge of town”, they had to hunt for it.

“How did the WPPD get the information if North Park kept it secret?” Clyde asked, looking out the windows for any signs of an empty lot, or burnt remains. Tweek slumped in his seat, letting Clyde do all of the searching.

“A retired cop, guilty conscience, probably.”

“He gave West Park the case file?”

“No, the information was in a statement. He left his identity anonymous.”

“Ah, that sucks. ‘Could’ve talked to him. Speaking of, where’s your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend. Micheal has him.”

Clyde looked at Tweek. “Micheal?”

Tweek shrugged.

“What did he do for Micheal to get him? He’s gonna get roughed up!” Clyde laughed, looking back out the windows. Tweek didn’t answer him and just looked out his window. Then he pointed, after seeing something sticking out of the dry ground.

There wasn’t any snow in North Park. It was more of hard ground and dirt, dead grass out here away from any of the town’s houses.

Clyde stopped the car and looked where Tweek was pointing. Leaving the key in the ignition, he opened his door and looked at Tweek.

“Let’s check it out.” He climbed out of the car and shut his door, going out to the area. Tweek followed him.

It looked like a piece of a house frame, burnt black, but sturdy enough to survive being on fire. There was no doubt, this was where the house was. There was rubble that the police left in their haste and laziness.

Tweek dropped down to start sifting through burnt rood and plaster, the soot old and leaving his hands clean. Clyde went to another part to dig, seeing broken glass and what looked like old cloth.

“Careful not to cut yourself,” he called to Tweek, moving some burnt wood. “Hey, why has no one come up on this yet? It looks untouched,” he added. Tweek picked up what looked to be a piece of bone, just a chip. Human or animal, he couldn’t tell.

“North Park takes pride in their smarts; people wouldn’t come out here when they could just stay home and study.” He put the bone in his pocket for Henrietta.

“So… how many victims do you think this guy has?”

“I’d range about forty. It’s a wonder no one caught onto him sooner.”

“You say it’s Kyle, and that these murders have been happening since he was in college. Do you really think he could kill forty people between that time?” Clyde stopped searching to look at Tweek, who continued. The blonde shrugged a shoulder.

“We thought the murders started two years ago, here, with seven victims. He could have started earlier, though. Like the molestation victims in South park ten years ago; we were all teenagers by then. He molested those kids and then years later started strangling them. If we put that theory into his college days, then he could have killed dozens and just kept them here. But, he could have gotten bored from that and moved on to start posing them.” He continued, “Spice is addictive. He got bored of molesting kids and started strangling them. He could have gotten tired of hiding bodies and started posing them. We both know that Kyle’s smart; smart kids don’t like working on the same projects for too long.”

Clyde exhaled deeply, bringing a hand up to scratch his head. “...So you’re saying that Kyle was molesting kids when he was a kid?”

Tweek looked at Clyde in annoyance. “It’s common in psychopaths. It’s like a pantythief: first they steal underwear, then they start peeping, then they start acting. Everything happens in chains- Kyle just started because… because of Kenny’s death...” He pointed at Clyde, the brunette blinking.


“Did Kyle have a crush on Kenny when we were little?”

“Uh, I don’t know? I mean, didn’t you, too?” Clyde sighed after speaking and sat down on the dirt, looking at Tweek. “Tweek, maybe you should stop this. I mean, at the rate this is all going, they could name you a suspect.”

Tweek gawked before scoffing. “And how would they do that? You’re just defending Kyle, just like Ralph!”

“No, Tweek, I’m not. I mean, if the police really look into it, you and Kyle both had crushes on Kenny. You disappeared when the murders started in South Park- I mean, do you even have any alibis for the murders?”

Tweek didn’t say anything, because the only factual alibis he had were Ralph, and that only accounted for 15% of the murders.

Clyde spoke up again, soft, watching Tweek. “If Kyle is as smart as you say he is, he could turn this all around and pin it back at you. A lot of people think that you’re headed for a psychotic break, so the police would probably even believe him. You should probably just let the WPPD handle this. Just stay safe until they catch the real killer.”

Tweek shook his head. “Once he finishes South Park, he could move onto another town.”

“Tweek, you’re really getting paranoid. Think about it: why would Kyle of all people put himself in this position? It would ruin Ike’s life.”

“Because...” Tweek tried thinking back. The molestations and murders in North Park were practice for South Park, but why South Park? Because Kenny died there? What would he do after killing all the blondes? Why was Bradley killed so passionately and soon? What had happened to his order? “Because…” Tweek covered his mouth, eyes wide. Clyde gave him a look.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Kenny.” If Kyle knows that Ralph is Kenny, that could change everything. He wouldn’t need to kill everyone else anymore, because now he had the real live thing.

Getting up from the rubble, Tweek ran back to Clyde’s car, the brunette running after him.

“Hey, what’s wrong!” he called, watching Tweek grab the door handle. The blonde looked back at him.

“We have to find Ralph!”

He pulled the door’s handle but the door didn’t open. He tried again, and again. Looking inside of the car, he could see that the doors… were locked.

“What’s wrong now?” Clyde walked around the driver’s side to open the door, but he soon found out himself that they were locked out of the car. Patting his pockets, he looked inside the car when he didn’t feel his keys and saw them, dangling from the ignition.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, looking at Tweek. “The fucking keys are inside.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirteen

“So, start explaining things,” Michael said to Kenny, leaning against the wall and watching the blonde sitting at the table. Kenny sighed.

“It’s happened ever since I could remember; you’ll probably all forget about it tomorrow.”

“And you want us to believe you?”

“Well, is there any other explanation? If I’m being real, that skeleton in North Park was probably mine, and so is that body you guys found. I got attacked at Bamcoe’s.”

“Then why’d we find the body clear across town?”

“I don’t know,” Kenny looked at the tabletop. That was a lie. After being attacked at Bamcoe’s, he ended up at the school with Kyle. Then: nothing. If Kyle cleaned up the blood from the school though, he could have hidden Mysterion’s body for… well, being a good samaritan. But, he wouldn’t throw Kyle under the bus. Because, believe it or not, that would just make Kyle even more suspicious; since Mysterion had been assaulted by the killer. And Kenny had decided himself that Kyle was not a murderer. Let alone a serial killer.

Michael just watched Kenny though, arms crossed and dark eyes lazy. He ended up pushing off of the wall and walking over to the table, slipping into the other chair like a lithe snake.

“You know that sounds fucking crazy, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then why’d you ever come back?”

Kenny shrugged honestly, reaching a hand up to rub his neck. “I wanted… to see if I could make up for it. For being stupid.”

Michael laughed, a low chuckle that sounded like he was careless. “Well, that sure worked for you.” Then, he looked at the door when it opened, a woman coming in with some papers. Taking them to Michael, she handed them to him, whispering something to the man before turning and leaving back out of the room. Michael looked at the papers, flipping one over to look at the other, then the other. Then he looked at Kenny.

“DNA tests like this take plenty of hours, so we’ll have to wait for that result,” Michael said. “But,” he added, “We did fingerprinting, too. Says here it’s a match. A very good one.”

Kenny nodded, because he already knew. Michael put the papers on the table and looked at Kenny. The blonde cleared his throat.

“So what does that mean?” he asked.

Michael shrugged. “It means nothing. Why have you been using a dead man’s identity? That’s theft.”

“...I don’t know, I just did.”

“So, how long were you going to lie to everyone? And what have you been doing with Tweek and Henrietta?” Michael asked in disgust. Kenny just shook his head.

“Nothing illegal. Am I under arrest for anything?”

“No, but I sure as hell don’t want to let you back out there. I’m putting you under surveillance, how does that sound?”

Kenny scoffed. “For what?”

“Nothing. Because I can. Get up.” Michael stood from his seat and walked to Kenny, who got up from his own. Grabbing the blonde by the arm, Michael pulled him along out of the interrogation room. Leading him out of the police department, he took the man to his car and they got in again.

“I’ll drop you back off into South Park, but I’ll have some officers watching you, so try not to do anything stupid,” Michael said. Kenny sighed and looked out the passenger’s window.



Clyde parked outside of the cafe in South Park, opening his door and easing out so that he wouldn’t cut himself on the glass he was sitting on. Brushing stray shards from his butt, he groaned deeply, looking at Tweek when the blonde got out of the car, too.

“I really can’t believe you broke my window, man. Really. Ughh...” Clyde shook his head, slamming his door shut and kicking it. “Piece of fucking shit car.”

“Cars don’t lock themselves,” Tweek said, glancing at Clyde before looking around the lot. It was empty besides two cars, just patrons wanting a cup of joe. Was Kenny still with Michael? Did Tweek actually get him in trouble? No, whatever happened to him, he deserved it. Except Kyle potentially trying to kill him.

“What are we doing, Tweek?” Clyde asked, watching the blonde pull out his phone and dial a number. Tweek didn’t reply, stepping away when whoever he called answered. Clyde huffed and looked at his car, the broken window.

Look for something to unlock it with!” Tweek yelled at Clyde, the other man scoffing and giving him a look.

Like what? Do you think there would be a slim-jim here?”

Ugh!” Tweek stormed back to the rubble, kneeling and sifting through things. He grabbed what looked like a pipe and started back to the car, but Clyde knew what was going to happen and stepped in the way.

There’s no way in hell you’re breaking my window!”

Move your ass or I’ll hit you with it!” Tweek waved the pipe to scare Clyde, but the latter ended up grabbing it and ensuing a struggle between the two. Tweek screamed in anger while trying to pull the pipe out of Clyde’s hands, but the brunette was getting closer to having it. Until Tweek slammed his knee into Clyde’s balls; then the man let go of the pipe and doubled over as if he had been shot.

Tweek!” he gasped in betrayal, looking at Tweek with glassy eyes of pain. If this were a scene from a movie, Tweek would feel bad for Clyde. Instead, it was real life, and that was Clyde. Raising the pipe for a better assault, Tweek was about to bust the passenger window when he remembered that’s there he would sit.

It wasn’t his fault the car was locked. Or that he didn’t like Clyde. That was Clyde’s fault.

Walking around the car, Tweek shattered the driver’s window.

Clyde shook his head and looked back at Tweek. Man, did he have problems.

“So, what are we here for?” he called to Tweek, the blonde putting his phone away. Tweek looked at him and glared like he were trying to see him without his glasses, and then he clicked his tongue and headed over.

“We’re waiting for Michael to bring Ralph here.”

“Well, why? And you two are sleeping together, aren’t you?”

Tweek laughed and shook his head. “We aren’t.”

Clyde gave him a look, crossing his arms. “Then why else are you so invested in him? Seriously, Tweek. Is it because he looks like Kenny?” he asked, surprising Tweek. The blonde cleared his throat.

“What do you mean?”

Clyde scoffed and waved a hand for emphasis. “Come on, I know you had a crush on Ken when we were kids. Sure, Ralph looks like him, but really?”

“Not really, what do you think is going on with me and Ralph?”

Clyde rolled his eyes. “Tweek. I think you’re sleeping with him because he looks like Kenny. I’m right, aren’t I? I know what you look like when you’re fucking someone!”

Tweek pushed Clyde, the brunette stumbling back and falling after tripping on his feet, unsuspecting that Tweek would sneak attack him. Just then, a car pulled up and Tweek looked over. It was Michael, the man climbing out of his car. Looking at Tweek, he motioned.

“What’d you call for?” he asked. Tweek walked over, leaving Clyde lying on the ground, the man tired of the blonde’s shenanigans.

“It’s Kyle!” Kenny heard Tweek yell from inside Michael’s car. He hadn’t gotten out yet because he didn’t really want to, but now he was just going to listen to what Tweek was saying. He saw Michael roll his eyes.

Evidence, Tweek.”

“Probable cause! Kyle lived in North Park at the time of the first murders and was never questioned! He even left town and they stopped! He goes to Bamcoe’s, and that’s where the victims are chosen!”

“I can’t-”

“At least go and interrogate him!” Tweek grabbed Michael by the shirt, which startled the man some. Kenny pulled out his phone and called Kyle, thankful that he had snagged the number off of David. But… why would they even talk to each other?

“Hello?” Kyle’s voice sounded into the phone, surrounded by loud laughter and music. Kenny pressed his lips together, closing his eyes. Why in the hell was he at Bamcoe’s right now? “Hello?” Kyle sounded again. Kenny sighed.

“Kyle, it’s Kenny.”

“...How’d you get my number?”

“I just did- why are you at Bamcoe’s?”

“Wendy turned down Stan’s proposal, he’s wanting to get drunk and shit. Why? What’s wrong?”


“Hey, speaking of, is that why you left so early? That was kind of rude,” Kyle said and Kenny could hear him drink something. Kenny huffed, glancing at Michael and Tweek. The two were still talking, but it looked like their conversation was coming to a close.

“Kyle, listen to me! Tweek has the police coming to get you- they think you’re the killer.”

Kyle laughed. “Yeah, I know, you told me last night.”

“Are you drunk or something, Kyle? I’m telling you, you have to get out of there!”

“Oh, wait,” Kyle’s line got muffled, like he was covering his phone, “Butters! Hey, come here!”

“What? Kyle-” The phone was hung up and Kenny scoffed, looking at his phone. “Unfucking-believable.”

Michael got back into the car, grabbing his radio. “I need preferably two units at Bamcoe’s to help me make an arrest for Kyle Brovlofski; now.” Putting the radio up, Michael took the car into reverse and pulled out of the driveway, turning into the road and driving off. Tweek and Clyde drove behind him, and Kenny ran a hand through his hair.

What would the police find?

When they got to Bamcoe’s, Michael told Kenny to stay inside the car while he got out and left into the bar to look for Kyle. Sitting in the car for a moment, Kenny got to see the police cruisers arrive, the officers going inside after Michael. David also came onto the scene, glancing at Kenny before going inside the building, too. Then Kenny couldn’t take it anymore.

Getting out of the car, he called Kyle’s phone while walking up to the bar, but the latter didn’t answer. Kenny did, though, hear the ringtone. Outside. Glancing around, he called Kyle again, trailing off to look for the sound. Tweek looked at Clyde from inside Clyde’s car.

“What is he doing?” he asked, looking back to see Kenny walking towards the woods. Clyde scoffed and shrugged.

“I don’t know, just leave him- Oh, come on. Tweek!” Clyde grabbed at Tweek, but the blonde quickly evade his grasp by getting out of the car. Seeing Tweek walk after Kenny all alone, Clyde got out and followed after him, cursing. He jogged to catch up to Tweek.

“Kyle?” Kenny called, looking around when the ringing got closer. He put his phone up so that he could look better, walking between trees and looking around. “Kyle!” he called again.


He could see a speck of blood on the snow before him as he walked deeper into the woods. Following it, he kept an eye out for more.


A groan.

Looking around, Kenny tried to find the sound. He did, though, find Kyle’s phone. The screen was cracked, and there was blood on it, like someone tried to unlock it and cut their finger.

“Kenny!” Tweek grabbed Kenny’s arm after finally catching up to him, scaring the latter. Kenny looked at him, Clyde looking at him. The brunette pointed.

“Wh- Kenny? Tweek, that’s Ralph.”

“No, Kenny faked his death and stole some dead guy’s fucking name,” Tweek said, glaring at Kenny. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m… just looking,” Kenny replied. Clyde puffed.

“Okay, wait a minute- Ralph is Kenny?” he asked in disbelief and pure shock and confusion. Tweek rolled his eyes.

“Not now, Clyde.”

“Yeah, not now,” Kenny agreed, pulling out of Tweek’s grip. Clyde scoffed.

“What? Why the hell are we not talking about this?”

“Shut up, Clyde, jeez,” Tweek grumbled and followed after Kenny when the man walked off again. Clyde shook his head and followed, the obvious third wheel.

Kenny found him. Or at least, he found Butters.

Lying in the snow, Butters looked motionless, lying on his stomach with his face in the snow. Kenny ran over, dropping to his knees to check on him.

“Butters,” he rolled the blonde onto his back, looking him over for any wounds. It looked like he had been hit over the head, but there was irritation around his neck, like he had been strangled by hand. “Butters, are you okay? Wake up,” Kenny tapped the blonde’s cheek before checking him for a pulse. There was one; light, but there.

“I fucking told you Kyle was the killer,” Tweek said, kneeling in the snow away from Kenny. The man looked over and sighed. Before Tweek was Annie, head bashed in and obviously dead. Tweek brushed a curly strand of blonde hair from her face. Then Clyde spoke up.

“Uh, no guys, I don’t think he is,” he said, making both Tweek and Kenny look over.

Kyle sat slumped against a tree with blood dripping from his hair into his face. Kenny ran over.

“Kyle!” he grabbed the man and lay him down in the snow, checking him for a pulse. He also had one, but he looked beaten. His cheek was scraped, probably from the tree during some struggle, and it looked at though he had some sort of head wound. His throat was bruised with obvious finger marks. He groaned lightly, eyes closed, and Kenny wiped the blood from his face.

“Shh, you guys are okay,” Kenny said to him. He looked back at Tweek, who looked like he was furious. Probably about being wrong.


It took a full thirty minutes for Michael to come back to everyone; Clyde, Kenny, and Tweek, who all sat in the hospital waiting room for any word on Kyle or Butters. Since Annie hadn’t made it.

Walking to the trio who sat distances from each other, Michael pulled his pack of cigarettes from his pocket to toy with, eyes looking down the hall for any NO SMOKING signs.

“So, Kyle is awake,” he said, looking at the three. Tweek crossed his arms, sitting back in his seat, and Kenny motioned to Michael.

“And? Is he okay?”

Michael shrugged. “I’m not a doctor. He’s well enough to interrogate, which we plan to do. Anything beyond that, ask the doctors yourselves,” he said, waving down a nurse as she turned down the hall. Walking over to the group, the redhead smiled, eyes tired.

“Yeah?” she asked. Michael raised his pack of smokes.

“I don’t see any signs.”

The nurse watched him for a long moment before pointing at him. “Don’t even think about it,” she said sternly, meaning Michael had officially ruined her sweet mood. The detective turned in a circle, looking at the hall for any signs but again; not finding any. He rolled his eyes and put his smokes up, looking at the pretty nurse.

“Alright, alright, go eat a breakfast bar or something,” he said when she didn’t move, making her click her tongue and walk away, glancing back to make sure he wasn’t trying to smoke again. Kenny sighed, standing up.

“Okay, I’m gonna find a doctor,” he said, stepping down the hall. Michael called after him.

“Both Butters and Kyle are murder witnesses, that means the cops get to talk to them first.”

Kenny looked back at Michael, understanding the nurse’s annoyance. He was fucking annoying. As if sent from heaven, though, a doctor started walking over to the group. Kenny headed back over.

“They’ll both make it,” the doctor said, mostly to Michael, because he didn’t know who was really family, or friends. “We’ve put Stotch in emergency care for some brain swelling. We’re working it down, but he’ll need to stay for a while so we can monitor him and make sure he’s okay.”

“So I can’t talk to him?” Michael asked flatly, knowing the answer. The doctor shook his head.

“No, he’s in a medically induced coma. Kyle Broflovski, on the other hand, is okay to visit. He’s suffered some bruising on his ribs and has a concussion, but he should be alright for interrogation. I recommend he stay for a few days, for good measure.”

“Can we visit him?” Kenny asked, making the doctor look at him.

“You are?”

“Friends, but-”

“Duty before friendship, McCormick,” Michael said, rolling his eyes to look at Kenny. Kenny glared at him. The doctor cleared his throat.

“Well, he’s in recovery room 336, if you want to visit; since he’s awake. I do think...” he glanced at Michael, “A friend could be present during the interrogation. It could help his state of mind, since he’s a little… scared.” Michael stared at the doctor before looking at Kenny. He exhaled and snapped his fingers.

“Come on, McCormick.”

Kenny made his way to Michael and Clyde leaned over his chair to Tweek, who sat two seats away from him.

“Psst,” he said. Tweek glanced at him, unfazed. “Are you gonna tell me now why we’re calling Ralph Kenny?” Tweek sat more stiffly. “Isn’t that the question of the year,” he uttered, sinking in his seat and looking at the wall.

Walking into room 336 after an awkward elevator ride with Michael, Kenny and the detective came to see that Kyle was… battered. He had a black eye and bandaging around his head from his assault. On top of that, he had a split lip and looked utterly annoyed. He looked at the two as they entered the room, the white of his black eye pink in irritation. He scoffed.

“Are you really arresting me?” he asked, voice flat. He had his hands resting over his stomach, holding his hurt rib cage. Kenny looked at Micheal, because he also wanted to know. Would he arrest him?

Micheal looked from Kyle to Kenny and rolled his eyes. “...No. I’m not. As long as you can tell me who attacked you guys.” He looked back at Kyle, who gave a heavy sigh and shook his head.

“I don’t know; they were wearing a hood. They just… came up from behind while we were getting air.”

“In the middle of the woods?” Michael asked. Kyle sighed again.

“It’s dumb, but yeah. It’s not that uncommon, especially in South Park. You wouldn’t know, though, because you’re in West Park, aren’t you?” Kyle gave Michael an accusing smile and the detective narrowed his eyes at him. He continued, “I was walking with Butters when the guy hit him down, and then Annie went running so he went after her. I tried to stop him but… you see what happened,” he said and glanced down at his own body. Kenny looked at Michael.

“That means the killer is still out,” he said. Michael nodded, clearly upset.

“Yep. He is. ...I’m gonna need some coffee.” He turned and left the room, leaving Kenny with Kyle. Kyle waved Kenny over to his bedside, the blonde coming over.

“Help me get out of here,” Kyle muttered, grabbing Kenny’s arm to help pull himself up. Kenny raised an eyebrow.

“Um, I don’t think it’s recommended?”

“The doc said I can leave if I want, they just don’t want me to. I’m not staying the night in Hell’s Pass with a serial killer on the loose; that’s just dumb.” Kyle forced Kenny to help him sit up in bed, but a nurse came in before Kyle could start pulling his cords. She gave them a look.

“...What are you doing?” she asked. Kyle raised a hand.

“I’m checking out.”

“Uh, it’s not really advised-”

“Advised, but I’m still allowed to. Check me out, please?”

The nurse didn’t do anything for a while, but she finally left, probably to get the paper work. Kyle looked at Kenny and gave a busted smile.

“Just gotta say “please”.”

Kenny sighed and reached up to rub his neck. “...Are you gonna go back to your house?”

Kyle hummed. “I was… gonna ask if I could stay with you. I mean, I don’t know if I feel comfortable alone after almost getting killed,” he said. Kenny sat beside Kyle on the bed, thinking. Tweek wouldn’t be happy with the thought of that. He’d probably beat Kenny up some.

“...Okay, I think I can work it out with Tweek.”

“Thank you,” Kyle slumped against Kenny’s side, laying his head on his shoulder and closing his eyes with a light exhale.

Chapter Text

Chapter Fourteen

"You think I'm gonna let him stay here?" Tweek asked with a bitter humor, looking at Kenny while he threw his coat onto the couch, coming in not too long ago and regretting it. Kenny gave a single shouldered shrug.

"Yeah. Because he's a survivor. The killer could be out there looking for him."

Tweek gave Kenny a look with so much hatred and irritation that he'd remember it for days. "He's not blonde. I think he'll be okay."

"Tweek," Kenny stepped up to Tweek in the living room, the shorter blonde glaring at the man. "You have to accept that the killer is out there, not in here," he said. Kyle was here, in the house. He was in the bathroom washing his mouth out of the metallic blood taste that he said was staining his taste buds.

Tweek didn't move away from Kenny, which the man took as a good sign. Tweek looked into his eyes with his angry green, breathing heavily as he tried to reason with what information was wrong and true. He wanted Kyle to be the real killer. And that's why he didn't want him in his house. Because he could kill him.

"Please, Tweek," Kenny reached out to touch Tweek's arm, the blonde glancing at Kenny's hand but not moving away as expected. The blonde looked back into Kenny's eyes and almost said something, but then the toilet in the bathroom flushed, and the blonde tore himself away from Kenny. Kenny sighed. "Tweek."

"Forget it." Tweek headed straight to the kitchen just as Kyle left the bathroom, a hand over his ribs. He hissed in pain and Kenny glanced over.

"...You okay?" he asked the beautifully damaged redhead. Kyle looked over and shook his head before touching a hand to it.

"I never knew concussions could hurt so bad."

Kenny rose his eyebrows and gave a breath. "They do suck." He decided to walk over to Kyle, who leaned against the bathroom door and looked up at the man. Kyle gave a tiny, light smile.

"He didn't take it, did he?"


Kyle gave a half-assed shrug, though Kenny thought he could see the disappointment in the man's face, like he felt bad that he wasn't trusted, but he would never be caught looking down. Kenny reached out and put a hand on Kyle's hip, to get closer to him. The touch made Kyle give a nice little smile. "Is this how you make me feel better?" he asked teasingly. Kenny chuckled, which felt weird, because with everything going on right now, he wasn't the least bit happy. Kyle slipped his arms around Kenny's neck and pulled the man into a kiss, where Kenny could feel the wound on Kyle's lip. The dirty blonde broke the kiss.

"Did that hurt?" he asked. Kyle clicked his tongue and smiled shyly.

"Kind of."

Kenny was going to distance himself so that Kyle could go and get some rest, but instead, the redhead kissed him again, deeply. And Kyle was too pretty to ignore when he was the initiator, so Kenny slipped his tongue into the redhead's mouth to taste more of him. Kyle moaned into the kiss, something that made Kenny's face heat up. The blonde stepped closer to Kyle and brought his hand up from the man's hip to underneath his shirt, where he felt his smooth, soft skin. Then Kyle cried out in pain and braced his hands on Kenny's chest to push him away some.

"That hurt," he said, Kenny's hand brushing over his bruised ribs. Kenny stepped back to look Kyle over.


"I can't take it anymore!" Tweek yelled loudly, and there was the shatter of glass, probably a coffee mug. The blonde threw another glass out of the kitchen into the living room, which hit the wall and shattered, but not failing to dent the sheet rock first. Kyle looked at the kitchen before looking at Kenny.

"What's wrong with him?" he asked, a little worried. Kenny just shook his head and sighed.

"He does that a lot. Tweek!" he called. Tweek came into the room looking down at his hand, which meant he'd most likely cut himself by throwing his fit. He looked up at Kenny and when he saw how close he was to Kyle, he narrowed his eyes at the two.

"Do not cahoot in my house."

"Tweek, that's not even what "cahoot" means."

"It doesn't matter! Ew, you two are in cahoots." Tweek stared at them for a moment, like he was processing why they were so close, before groaning loudly. "I'm done! I'm not staying here anymore! I'm going to the morgue!" The blonde walked quickly to his jacket, grabbing it and pulling it on. Kenny rolled his eyes.

"Tweek, you can't sleep in a morgue."

Tweek gave Kenny a very judging look. "I'm not sleeping there, you idiot!" His speech had started off normal, but then he must have remembered that he really, really didn't like Kenny at the moment, and heavily stressed the word "idiot".

Kyle sighed. "Okay, maybe-"

"Don't talk to me, Little Shortcake!" Tweek yelled angrily. Kenny crossed his arms.

"Tweek, knock it off. Are you going to stay the night with Henrietta?" he asked. Tweek looked like he wished he had another mug in his hand. He pointed at Kenny, looking very serious. Or... upset.

"Don't act like you know me. You left us a long time ago." Tweek glared at Kenny. "And you lied to me for almost a year, so you must really not care that much about us. Or you would have found the killer. So I'm going to find him." The blonde turned his glare onto Kyle, like he had already found the killer. In his mind, he did. Kyle just shook his head and looked away, though.

Before Kenny could say anything else to salvage the situation, Tweek stormed out of the house to his truck. After a moment of silence, Kyle looked at Kenny.

"...Should he actually go alone?"

Kenny huffed. "You're actually right; we should go after him. Or," he looked at Kyle and his beaten body. "...Maybe you should stay here and I go."

Kyle scoffed and pushed Kenny's shoulder. "I'm not staying here under surveillance alone. Just take me with you."

Kenny gave Kyle a skeptical look. He did like having Kyle with him, because he could probably keep him safe. It seemed like everything bad happened when Kyle was alone. He wasn't a killer though. He couldn't be. "Call Stan over," the blonde said. Kyle gave him a look before rolling his eyes, which made his head hurt a little.

"Fine. If you want me to stay here alone, I'll make sure the surveillance team gets a good look at me changing for bed." Kyle smirked and Kenny sucked his teeth. He grabbed the redhead and started walking him to his room for a jacket and change of clothes, since his attire was with the forensics team.

"Are you fucking serious," Tweek said when Kenny came into the morgue. He gave some irritated noise when Kyle came in behind the man.

"Well hello," Henrietta said, crossing her arms and looking the two over. She looked at Kenny. "We should have a talk later," she said, probably about Kenny hurting Tweek's feelings. Or at least, for Kenny making Tweek have a giant meltdown. Kyle pointed at the table behind she and Tweek.

"...Is that her? Is that Annie?" he asked. Henrietta stepped back to show the table, which held Annie on it. Her skin of her torso was pinned open, and her stomach organ lay in a metal tray.

"Well, since we're all having a party, let's gather up. Get over here, you two," she said and motioned Kenny and Kyle over. Kenny looked at the redhead, having second thoughts.

"Are you sure you want to be here?" he asked. Kyle nodded, but Kenny could see the hesitation in his eyes. Tweek scoffed from where he stood. They all moved to group around the corpse.

"So, there's nothing wrong with her internally, but I still need to check the brain," Henrietta said. She leaned over the table to point a scalpel at the deceased's lungs. "See these lines?" she asked, pointing at white lines that raked across Annie's organs. Tweek nodded. "They're-"

"Scarring. From pneumonia," Kyle said. Everyone looked at him, and he cleared his throat. "We learned about it in college; if you've ever had pneumonia, permanent scarring takes the lungs."

Henrietta watched him for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, that's right. So," she looked back at the girl's lungs. "She had pneumonia some time in her life, probably early childhood."

"Does that have anything to do with her death?" Kenny asked. Henrietta scoffed.


"Then, why are we focusing on it?"

The goth gave him a look. "Because it's interesting. God, I swear- you and Micheal have no respect for the deceased."

Kenny scoffed this time, crossing his arms. "I have respect for the dead, I'm just not interested in random "fascinations"."

"Mm. My point exactly. So you wouldn't be surprised to see this, either." Henrietta stepped to the side to pull some gloves on, having taken her previous pair off to talk to Tweek, presumably. Tweek looked at Kenny through a glare.

"Now you did it, asshole."

Kenny gave Tweek a look. "Did what?"

"She's gonna show us something really gross because you can't keep your mouth shut!"

"Why would she-"

The woman came back to the three to end the bickering and smiled at them with her dark lips. "Ready for something... really cool?"

Kyle glanced at Kenny and Tweek, Tweek ignoring the redhead while Kenny sighed. "Sure, Henrietta."

Henrietta pointed at the organ tray, with the stomach. "So, I've already taken out the stomach, but you lovelies came by just before I could check out this morbid curiosity by myself. So I thought we'd all look at it together." She reached inside of Annie's open torso to push the girl's intestines to the side. "Normally I'd take these out first, but it tends to be a little messy, and I'm really excited. So, what do girls have that men don't?"

"I presume you're talking about that," Kyle said and pointed at a bloated organ. Henrietta hummed happily.

"...What is it?" Kenny asked. Tweek didn't know what it was, but he was queasy just by looking at it.

"It's her womb, she was pregnant," Kyle said. Henrietta nodded.

"That's exactly it." The goth started working to extract it, and Tweek gasped a little louder than necessary.

"But... why? Why did they kill her?" he asked. Henrietta shrugged.

"She put up one hell of a fight, though. I've extracted some skin from underneath her nails, so she probably scratched her attacker. I haven't dissected her head yet, but from my external observation, it looks like she suffered a severe fracture to the back of her skull. And since there aren't any other signs of trauma, that most likely means she died from the injuries to her head." She put her utensils down and gave a sound of triumph. "And, it's out." She brought the womb to a giant sink to rinse it, and then she lay it on another table. She beckoned the others to follow when they didn't.

"Don't get too close," she said once they came over. "It hasn't been long since she died, so her blood is relatively fresh. Which means messy."

She asked Tweek to click RECORD on her tape recorder, and then started speaking while cutting the womb open. "This is autopsy number 136 by lead coroner Henrietta Biggle, taking place in the Hell's Pass Hospital morgue, for the WPPD. Victim is female, late twenties; there is scarring on her lungs from a previous case of pneumonia, and as of now, 6:22 PM, the COD is blunt force trauma to the head, resulting in a third degree fracture to the back of the skull. I have retrieved skin samples from underneath the victim's nails, of an unidentified person that I have stored for forensic testing. The victim appears to be pregnant, and I am opening the womb now to determine how long."

Henrietta glanced at the others and winked, pulling the womb open. Fluids leaked out, and she reached inside to grab the fetus, pulling it out. Tweek breathed deeply through his nose and then decided to leave the room, slamming the doors shut behind him.

"The fetus looks to be at least seven weeks; there is no gender identification, nor trauma to the external body. It-"

Kenny turned to follow after Tweek, but Kyle grabbed his arm. "Kenny," he whispered, to avoid being on tape. "He probably needs to be alone."

Kenny looked at Kyle and shook his head, slipping out of the man's grip. "I'll be right back." With that, he left after Tweek, leaving Kyle to observe Henrietta's work alone.

In the hallway, Tweek was sitting on the floor and crying, his knees brought up to his chest as he sat against the wall. Kenny knelt beside him, but Tweek turned away and wiped his eyes. He didn't stop crying, though.

"...I know you're upset," Kenny said. Tweek shook his head bitterly, gazing the other way so that Kenny wouldn't see his face.

"That sick bastard killed her like she was nothing- She was alive, and then she just... I don't want to be alive and then dead just a second later," the blonde cried. Kenny reached out and put a hand on Tweek's shoulder, but Tweek slapped it away. He looked at Kenny with his tear-stained face, nose pink and eyes irritated. "You were supposed to help me catch the killer, not sleep with him and then let him kill Annie and almost kill Butters- Butters was your friend!" he spat, and then lashed out to push Kenny. Kenny caught himself with the wall. "You chose a murderer over me!" Tweek cried. Kenny shook his head and sighed.

"...Tweek, that wasn't supposed to happen, okay? What happened between us, it was really a mistake. And Kyle's not the killer."

Tweek glared at Kenny with his watery eyes, a tear spilling over. "I hate you," he said bitterly. "I hate you, I hate you-"


"I hate you! I hate who you are! I like Ralph more than I like you, and he isn't even real! He at least tried helping me solve the case, while you just sabotage it!" Tweek pushed Kenny again. Kenny grabbed one of Tweek's wrists.

"Why is Kyle the killer, huh? Tell me why! What directly links him to the murders?"

"He went to college where the murders first started! He left South Park when the molesting stopped! What color is his carpeting, since you slept with him!" Tweek tried tearing his arm away, but Kenny kept a tight hold. Tweek started hitting Kenny with his other hand.

"It's pink just like half of everyone else's in town! You're only accusing him because I'm with him instead of with you, right? Isn't that it? You said that Kyle wasn't a suspect until I started seeing him!"

Tweek slapped Kenny, and Kenny squeezed the blonde's wrist tightly in anger before letting him go and standing up.

"...Henrietta's done with the autopsy," Kyle said from the doors to the morgue. How much he had seen was a mystery, but it was evident that he had in fact seen some of the argument. Tweek got up quickly and rushed at Kyle to shove him, making the redhead hit the doors with a cry of pain from his ribs.

"Why didn't you see the killer! Why didn't he kill you!" Tweek yelled as he was pulled away from Kenny. Kyle watched Tweek with the utmost confusion and shook his head.

"...I'm sorry," he said. "They came out of nowhere." Tweek launched for him again, but Kenny held him back, arms wrapped around the blonde's torso to hold him at bay.

"It was you!" Tweek screamed.

"Tweek, stop it! He's a victim too!" Kenny yelled at Tweek. Tweek looked back at Kenny to spit at him.

"Fuck you!"

The doors behind Kyle came open and Henrietta stepped out. She held up the bone fragment that Tweek had brought her from the burned house in North Park. "I can't tell if this is animal or human; I'm not a bone expert, and it's too small to let me know anything about it. I'm sorry. But I also can't have some sissies fighting in my morgue, alright? So either you all cool it, or you get the hell out," she said stiffly, but seriously. Kenny let Tweek go and the blonde looked like he was going to attack Kyle, but he didn't and just looked like a feral cat. Henrietta watched them all for a moment before continuing speaking.

"Annie had a brain tumor; if you're upset about her dying pregnant, don't be. That thing would have killed her before she was even at five months, cool? Cool. So that leaves your question, Tweek, as to why she was attacked. I. Don't. Know. There are always two theories when something like this happens in a serial killer case. 1: It's to throw us off because we're getting too close to him, her, it, them. So they're changing the MO, which makes solving this case ten times harder. And option 2: She was in the wrong place, in the wrong fucking time." Henrietta watched Tweek's face carefully. "There's never a reason as to why people are killed, they just are. That tumor was gonna kill her and her baby anyway; this murderer just got her first."

Tweek stared at Henrietta through glaring eyes before nodding solemnly and turning, and simply leaving. The woman looked at Kenny and Kyle. "Micheal and the WPPD are coming to get the autopsy report since it's done. That means you two should go, too," she said. The two turned to leave, but she grabbed Kenny, stopping him in his tracks. Kyle didn't notice and kept on. "Tweek's right to keep Kyle as a suspect, as much as you might hate it. So you should, too," she said to him. Kenny watched her before slipping out of her grip.

"I trust him."

"That's not your job. Your job is to find out who the killer is. Not to protect anyone. Don't let him get in the way of all of this work. We've tried so hard for this long, and if you ruin it all, I will personally kill you."

Kenny watched her before leaving after Kyle.


"You said the body was done," Micheal said in annoyance, watching Henrietta stitch Annie's body closed. The woman looked at him briefly before continuing, ignoring him. He crossed his arms. "You have to answer to me."

Henrietta laughed. "We're in 2017, I don't have to answer to anyone. Least of all a misogynist."

Micheal glared at her as she worked. David was getting the transferring van ready for the body, and Mike stood outside with the rest of the team, waiting until the body was ready to move, because Henrietta had gotten ahead of herself.

"Was her hyoid bone fractured or broken?" he asked.


"So she wasn't strangled."


"I need details, Biggel."

"And I need a raise."

Micheal hit his hand against the table hard, making the sound echo in the room from the metal tabletop. Henrietta breathed through her nose and turned to look at Micheal.

"What is it, Sweetie?" she asked teasingly. Micheal reached out and grabbed her around the throat with a hand, holding her firmly and looking her in the eye.

"Do not annoy me, Biggel. I can be just as bad to you as I am anyone else."

Henrietta watched Micheal. "Not to me."

"Especially to you." Micheal tightened his grip until Henrietta adjusted herself in discomfort. Micheal felt her press something just underneath his exposed armpit, watching him with a strictness.

"Knights would stab their enemy under the armpit, because it was a straight shot to the heart and killed them instantly. My surgical blade isn't that long, but it's enough to make you hurt very, very badly," Henrietta whispered against Micheal, her airway slightly snuffed. Micheal watched her for a long moment before letting her go, shoving her so that she hit Annie's autopsy table, and almost knocking it over.

"Finish this up. The sooner I get that corpse to my district, the sooner I can forget your face," he said. Henrietta smirked at him, although she was upset.

"You wish you could forget me."

Micheal's phone rang and he answered it, walking away from Henrietta. "What."

It was a girl from his forensic lab, who cleared her throat. "The DNA results have come in. It's a match for Kenny McCormick."

"And?" They'd already established that by fingerprinting. That Ralph Coffee was a dead man and that the man assuming his identity was Kenny, under some... strange resurrecting circumstances.

"Um... It also pinged for another blood sample that we had put into the database earlier. It's the sample from the woods. ...From-"

"Check again."

"...I did, Sir. It's a match for Mysterion."


"You're sure I can stay the night here?" Kyle asked, laying beside Kenny in bed. Kenny nodded.

"Tweek should be getting over it, he was probably just tired."

Kyle closed his eyes. "...I feel bad. That I can't tell him who it was."

Kenny sighed. "Don't, don't do that. It was a sneak attack. And, you barely came out safe- Butters is in a coma, and Annie's dead."

"...I know. But so's her baby." Kyle opened his eyes to look at Kenny again. Kenny rolled onto his side and perched up on his elbow to look at the redhead.

"Henrietta said that she had a brain tumor, they wouldn't have made it anyway," he said, looking over Kyle's freckles and bruises.

"I have just as much medical knowledge as her, Kenny, and I didn't see a tumor. I... think she just said that to make Tweek feel better."

Kenny blinked study furrowed his eyebrows, his mood of admiration quickly dissipating into an uneasiness in his gut. "...What?"

Kyle nodded and brought a hand up to feel Kenny's shirt. "I'm sure she lied. I didn't see even the start of a tumor." He looked at Kenny's face, the blonde watching him with a new found guilt.

So the tumor was a lie. That meant that Tweek was right. That, if Kenny had found the killer, Annie wouldn't have been killed.

"Are you still thinking about it?" Kyle asked softly. "...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No, I just..." Kenny dropped to lay back down, on his back. He sighed deeply and looked up at the ceiling. "I just don't know what to do anymore. I mean... Who would actually want to do all of this?"

Kyle twisted his lips and shook his head before closing his eyes again, sleepiness from his concussion trying to take him. "Henrietta said it; people just die. People just kill. Maybe you should leave it to Micheal."

"Micheal," Kenny scoffed. "I don't know what happened to make him such a prick."

Kyle opened his eyes to peek at the blonde. "Did you not hear? I don't know the legistics, but Firkle died a long time ago; unrelated to the murders. I guess Micheal and Henrietta were working together on the case, but something got botched and it was just dismissed. He was still an asshole before that, but... Hey," he scoot closer to Kenny and lay his head on the blonde's chest. "Just let everyone do their jobs. This isn't your job."

"...I know," Kenny said. "I just want to make up for leaving." He looked down at Kyle, who offered the man a light smile. That was all. There were no words of comfort from the redhead. He just put a hand on Kenny's shoulder and closed his eyes again to rest. Kenny pressed his lips together and looked at the ceiling again.

He woke up in the early morning, the window still showing a dark sky of stars through its glass. It must have been five, maybe working up to six in the morning. Beside him, Kyle lay sleeping, having rolled during the night.

Kenny watched Kyle for a moment to see if he would wake up before slipping out of the bed when he wouldn't be noticed. He left the room and decided to check on Tweek, to make sure that he was actually resting, or at least beginning to forgive him if still awake.

The guilt of the whole case and the fact that Kenny had started it, must have woken him up. He needed to talk to someone. Preferably Tweek, because he was counting on Kenny to help him. Because they had been partners in this for a long while.

The house was dark and silent from the early of the morning, but Kenny managed to make it upstairs, where he left to Tweek's bedroom.

Opening the door, he peeked inside to see the blonde laying in bed, his back to the door to most likely hide himself from Kenny in his stubbornness. Kenny still entered, though, and walked over to the bed, where he sat down on the edge of the mattress beside the other blonde. He looked at the floor.

"I know, that you're mad at me," he said softly, because the house was deafeningly quiet. "And you have every right to be. I just... I fucked up, I know I did, alright?" He sighed and glanced to the side, so that he could see Tweek laying in bed, ignoring him. Kenny looked back to the floor.

"...I'm sorry, that none of this went how you planned. I didn't mean for any of this either. And I... I know you like me, and I'm sorry that you do, because I'm pitiful. I really am. I," Kenny leaned forward on his knees and gave another breath. "I'm just a really, really shitty person. You've done a lot for me, and I've just been... so stupid. It really hurt though, hearing you say that you hate me. My mom always said that "Hate's a strong word", and... I don't know if I'll be okay with you hating me. Because I like you too," he said, and brought a hand up to run through his hair, closing his eyes.

"I like you, too. But I don't want to hurt you anymore. And I'm already a disappointment, so once I find this killer, I'll just leave, okay? But... I just don't want you to hate me." Kenny looked back at Tweek.

He would leave. Because he was despicable and caused all of this mess, so he would finish what he came to do and then leave, and hopefully Tweek would be okay with that. Because he did... he liked Tweek too, like Tweek had liked him. But he was selfish and stupid, and had always liked Kyle, and he couldn't give him up now that he finally had him. ...Even for Tweek, who had made him fall for him, too.

"...Will you say something, Tweek? I can't... live, knowing that you hate me," Kenny said. Because he already hated himself too much. He reached out to touch Tweek's shoulder, but the blonde didn't do anything. "Are you asleep, Tweek?" he asked quietly, depressingly. He leaned over the bed to look at Tweek's face, the morning sun starting to shine barely through the windows.

But it was enough to see the blueish tint of Tweek's lips as Kenny peered at him. The man blinked and pulled Tweek onto his back, where he caught just a glimpse of pale flesh and dull lips, and bruising on his throat, before being struck over the head.


Kenny fluttered his eyes open to see a pale ceiling. There was a distant pain in his head, but it didn't matter compared to the pain he felt in the rest of his body. He rolled his head to the side to look around at his surroundings, his head throbbing and impairing his vision.

He was on a bed, by the height between him and the floor. The floor, of pink carpeting. Not just that. The floor that-

"You're awake now?" Kyle asked, walking into Kenny's vision. He was still in Kenny's clothes from the trip to the morgue. Kenny swallowed, his throat dry. His heart pounded out of his chest.

"What's going on?" The blonde asked, his voice coming out ruined by all of the emotions running throughout his body. Kyle sat beside him on the bed, like he himself had Tweek.


"Well, we're at home," Kyle said. He reached out and put a hand on Kenny's cheek, where he caressed the skin. Kenny tried sitting up in the bed, but then he learned that he was incapable. His hands were bound to the bed posts. "Tweek must be happy," the redhead breathed, "because he was right. So, that's one happy dead soul."

Kenny shook his head, watching Kyle, his vision distorted. "It's not you; is this a dream? Did you- Tweek-"

"Don't think too hard or you'll stress yourself. And I don't want you to stress out," Kyle spoke. He turned to start climbing further onto the bed, and then he sat over Kenny's lap, straddling the disoriented man.

"What are you-"

"What I've wanted to do. For a long time." Kyle smiled to Kenny, but it didn't look right through the man's ruined vision. "...When I killed Mysterion back at Bamcoe's, I... really told myself that I was gonna try and stop. You know. Because I was tired. Of all of the disappointments. It doesn't matter how many blondes, I just... They weren't you." The redhead watched Kenny's face, studying his expression. "Don't look at me like that," he said, "I was gonna stop. But then you told me that Ralph was a fake name, and that you were Mysterion, and Kenny, and I-" Kyle closed his eyes. "Was so happy."

"You..." Kenny tried to reason with things. He was tied up in Kyle's bedroom. "Killed Bradley..." he murmured, watching Kyle as the redhead started playing with Kenny's shirt. The redhead nodded, looking down at the clothing.

"I couldn't help myself. It was like-"

"You were excited." Henrietta's words during Bradley's autopsy rang into Kenny's head. "Either something made the killer mad, or excited. A crime of passion". Kyle leaned down over Kenny and pressed their foreheads together.

"Exactly," he said, closing his eyes. Kenny could feel a hand on his stomach, feeling him through his clothes. It hurt, like the rest of his body. Like he had been beaten up.

Think Kenny!

He probably had. Kenny tried to clear his thoughts and a shaky breath came from his lips as he remembered Tweek again.

He had in the utmost devastatingly way possible, failed Tweek. And not only failed him, but killed him. "Is Tweek dead," he asked, tremors of sad disappointment racking throughout his body. Kyle looked at him with his jade eyes.

"Why wouldn't he be?" Kyle then pressed his lips to Kenny's, slipping his hand underneath the blonde's shirt to touch his skin. Kenny turned his head away to break the kiss, which made Kyle sit up and narrow his eyes at him. "You said that you wanted me, so why are you upset now? You owe me for leaving me behind like this- you made me like this. Take responsibility."

"I didn't make you kill anyone," Kenny said bitterly, tears stinging his eyes.

He had honestly let everyone down. Tweek was dead.

"What's wrong with you," he cried softly, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Kyle frowned.

"You. I want you."

"Just kill me!" Kenny yelled angrily, and tried getting Kyle off of him by twisting his hips. The redhead glared at him.

"... Fine. Just like Bradley. I'll make it hurt."

Kyle put his hands around Kenny's throat and started squeezing


When Kenny woke up again, he felt refreshed, but only physically. His mentality was ruined, with guilt.

He lay in the snow at Stark's pond, his revival spot. Because he had died. After multiple, various abuse that he didn't want to think about, because the things he had felt were haunting.

Before he sat up in the snow at all, footsteps crunched over in the snow, and then Kyle peered down at him. In his hand at his side, rope.

Because he was the only one Kenny had told about Stark's pond.

"Ready for another round?"


Micheal rode with David to Tweek's house, with some more squad cars on the way, because Mysterion was a wanted criminal, and he'd be damned if he let him slip from under his thumb. Especially because Mysterion was Kenny. And he didn't like Kenny. Not when he was tampering with his investigation.

The surveillance team hadn't been answering, which was strange, but the unknown fear didn't settle in until they got to the house to see the surveillance cars.

Burning. They were on fire. With people in them, was up for debate. David's mouth fell open. "What happened?" he asked. Micheal bit his cheek.

"Call for the fire department and some buses." The lead detective parked the car and got out, leaving David to make the calls, while he left to the house.

He didn't knock; there was no need to. The surveillance team's Cara were on fire, with a serial killer on the loose, and a man he wanted to make an arrest on inside. He tried opening the door, but it was locked, by far too many locks for him to bust it open.

The man walked to a window and shattered it open with his elbow, before pushing the large pieces inside so that he could climb through with minimal damage.

Once he was inside, he started calling out and looking around the house, with his gun drawn. "McCormick! Tweak!"

It didn't matter how many times he called: the house was silent. The sun was shining enough for him to see in the dark house, and he went upstairs after the downstairs was a bust. Where he found Tweek, lying in his bed, motionless. He ran over and put his gun down to check for a pulse, but there was none. He didn't waste any time and started CPR.