Cult-ivation

Chapter One: Here's the Day You Hoped Would Never Come - Speeding Cars, Imogen Heap

RING RING RING

Kyle pulled his comforter over his head, ignoring his obnoxious cell phone for the moment. It had to stop ringing eventually, right? Right. The phone stopped its rings suddenly, silence once more surrounding the teen. Sighing in relief, the redhead rolled over in bed, falling back into a fitful sleep in seconds only to be jolted as- DING DING. A message, he knew from the sound. Groaning at his newly-adrenaline-hit body, he rolled over to pick up his phone.

What's so Goddamned important… He paused, eyes lingering on the message. Growling, he threw his phone across the room. "Oh my God." he said slowly. "That fucking bastard…" He didn't pause to even think on the message before grabbing his coat off his nightstand and pulling it over his night clothes. He picked his phone up along the way out of his room, knowing he wasn't going to get any sleep after his frustration hit this point. There were too many nerves involved, too much thinking that his mind was pulled in several different directions at once.

Anger pulsed through him, forcing him to act now; think later. And that's exactly what he found himself doing as his shoes were forced on before he exited his house. Shivering at the sudden coolness that was Colorado, he forced legs to move down the street-towards the "ghetto" of South Park.

He growled again, icy coolness mixing with the dark night in a way that he knew, logically, should have him on his toes. But after living in the area so long, you lose that part of you that gives a rat's ass about any of that. Though, Kyle knew it was his mind's familiarity that kept him from panicking as rustling of trees grew louder.

Sighing, he picked up pace, ready to scream his head off before contentedly sleeping once more. He knew he should have just left the situation as-is, but then, he knew he couldn't. He'd reached his peak. At two in the morning on a school night, Kyle Broflovski had finally had enough of Kenny McCormick's bullshit.

The memories of incidents not too long past had him gritting his teeth. He wished briefly, as wind pushed at his back chillingly, that he'd brought his hat. Pushing the zipper to the topmost area it would allow, his arms crossed. Bare hands grasped elbows, rubbing them for the warmth of friction.

Taken out-of-perspective, he could definitely see how odd the entire scene looked. Well, not exactly odd. After all he'd been through a walk in the middle of a freezing night could hardly be called weird. It might even be normal if placed by those standards. No, it was more of a movie-like feel to it. As if he was a minor character wondering along through deserted streets as a murderer plots his move in the bushes.

The thoughts had him shaking his head, ridiculous. He was tired, and the cool air was doing absolutely nothing to help that matter. "I just wanna bundle up in some blankets…" he muttered to himself.

He would've turned back at the tempting thoughts, but…

Green eyes blinked at the sight of the rundown trailer. Too late to go back now. he thought, hauntingly. A small part of him wondered if he should turn back anyway, the same part that warned him against the upcoming fight. But the headstrong part told him if he was already here, why turn back? It was illogical.

He didn't go up to the front door, no, he definitely didn't want to wake Kenny's parents for this. Instead, he found a small window to the side where he knew Kenny's room awaited him. Leaning down, knuckles rapped on the glass. "Kenny," he said, voice barely more than a whisper. Rapping again, he tried it a bit louder, "Kenny!"

A hand rapped on the glass back at him, no words needed to tell him to meet the other at the door. Stomping towards it, his mind found its way back to the text message. He tapped his foot impatiently. When a smirking blond opened the door, it was to a deep glare. "My my, Kyle, didn't think I'd excite you this much!"

"Shut the fuck up and let me inside." Kyle demanded, arms crossed for warmth and defense both.

"Any hole; any time, babe," Kenny replied with a wink, opening the door wider to allow the other.

Kyle pushed past him, dragging the boy to his room. Whilst not as warm as his quickly-numbing body had hoped, it proved warm enough for his need. Once inside the bedroom, he closed the door hastily.

"Whoa, if I knew you'd be this hasty, I would've sent you that message a long, long time ago…"

"Dude." Kyle began, "What. The. Ever-loving. Fuck?"

Kenny just tilted his head, long since immune to Kyle's death glares at this point. Noticing this, Kyle wondered just who should be most disappointed in themselves at this. But that was a thought for another time, another place. Now, it was about that damned message.

"What do you mean? All my fucks are ever-loving not just one. Want me to show you?" he added as an afterthought.

"Dude, that was fucked-up."

"What?" Kenny asked, still not getting just what Kyle meant. Or fucking with him. Kyle was sure it was the latter.

"The fucking picture, Kenny." he stated bluntly, pulling out the evidence. He opened the message, eyes narrowing at the picture as he forced down any further thoughts for fear of blushing in front of the other. The picture… Hand pushed inside waistband, pushing the fabric enough to show the barest bit of the what boxers held. Fingertips hugged the length with great familiarity-frozen in time. He showed it to the blond, who smirked.

"My best work, I think," Kenny supplied, "Do you wanna know how to set it as your background or…"

"No, I don't want it as my background!" Kyle replied hastily. He huffed then, "Just-Goddammit, Kenny. Stop sending me this shit!"

The blond pulled a face at that. Disappointment settled onto the expression, a frown donning his lips. "You-you don't like it?" he asked.

Oh great, overdramatic fake Kenny came out. Just fucking fantastic. "No, I don't."

"But I-I made it 'specially for you! I didn't even show anyone else," Kenny stated dragging out the ending as his body moved side to side with what Kyle supposed were supposed to be suppressed nerves. But Kenny's act didn't work. The redhead was way too used to his bullshit by now.

"I don't. Fucking. Care. Just stop sending it! Hell, show everyone else except me for all I care. Just keep me out of it." he replied, closing the phone in his hand and placing it inside his pocket securely. It practically burned him being so close with such a personal picture on it. He should delete that soon. Hell, even now. But first… "Don't send me pictures anymore, it's fucking weird, not funny, Ken!"

Kenny sighed, innocent act dropping immediately. In its place was something far more serious. Kyle was taken aback for a moment at this, unused to seeing this side of the other. He huffed. "Fine, but I have something to ask of you as well." Kenny countered.

Green eyes narrowed once more, further this time. He scanned the unwavering body with some wariness. "What is it?" he asked after a pause.

"Fuck me."

And just like that, all pretense that Kenny might be some sort of adult underneath the perverted child act dropped. "Fuck you!" Kyle said, turning from the blond as he readied himself for a no-doubt heated walk home.

"Is that a yes?"

Kyle growled, hands pulling at the strands of his hair in frustration at his lack of improvement of his situation. "Damn that fucking idiot…" he muttered as he closed the door behind him. He listened to the stifled laughs with a stiffening body. "Goddammit." he muttered, wishing he'd never even tried with the other. He should've known he wouldn't have found a way around the blond's constant perversion. And in a way, he knew he had known that before he even began the pointless walk.

I just don't understand why I even try, but…If I don't try then it'll just get worse, right? Maybe… There's always the theory that if you ignore the "bully" then he'll just go away to find someone else to taunt. He thought on this a moment. It wasn't like Kenny was bullying him, just sexually harassing him… So, okay, that sounds worse but it really wasn't. Was it? Kenny was his friend, his best besides Stan. Hell, the blond just thought all of his perversions were just a joke. He didn't understand that Kyle didn't like it. That he didn't find it funny at all. It was embarrassing. Uncomfortable even.

Sighing once more, he looked up from the dirt-filled floor to find himself in front of a hallway he didn't recognize. He needed light to make sure of this, as the moonlight didn't help much in situations such as these. His hands inched along the nearest wall, finding a smooth crack in the area. Wait, what's this? He prodded the crack, using his opposite hand to feel for more of the spaces. There was one above him, and another to the opposite side. It's like a door outline… Then, Duh, it's a fucking door! He felt for the knob, thinking maybe he'd found the backyard at the very least. When his hand found a hollowness beneath wallpaper that apparently covered the doorway, he pushed at it questioningly. The door pushed inwards immediately opening for him.

Caught off-guard by the missing doorknob, he was propelled forward by his own overly-powered push. "Ow!" he sounded in a gasp as his legs stumbled over themselves. He had ended up on the floor, hardwood from the feel. Groaning, he tried to use his palms to push himself upwards only when his palms hit the floor did he notice a weird texture to it. Sticky but stiff kind of sticky, like it's been there awhile. Knew Ken was gross but ugh… He shuddered, mind thinking of all the things the texture could be caused by.

The air pushed back inwards after the initial shock melted away, only to want to be forced back outwards with the sudden onslaught of a horribly rancid; rotten scent. He coughed, eyes watering from the overwhelming stench of the room. Pushing downwards on his palms, he managed an upwards position rather quickly, revved onward by the rancid smell that seemed to be physically thick enough to force him out by itself.

Vision already hindered by the night, the tears did nothing to help it. He tried to force himself up more completely, the smell too overwhelming to keep even his thoughts about Kenny's grossness from coming up. He just wanted out of here.

He wiped his eyes with his shirt edge, not wanting to touch dirty hands to them. Vision wavered some, eyes burning from rubbing he tried his best to look around the room.

He stumbled backward this time, eyes wide; terrified at the shadowed sight that greeted him. Stench was forgotten-shock overriding as eyes centered on a lost head. Eyes stared at him and his mind picked up the word "lifelessly." It never sounded so much truer than here. He'd never fully known it until now. But now that he knew, he didn't want to know at all. Lifelessly. It was this. Fucking this. Inhuman almost. Soulless, dull. No glint, no movement at all. Unknowing. Worse than any doll Kyle had ever seen. They'd once been alive-but now there was none left. Dead.

He could barely comprehend what he stared at even as his mind pushed to the most logically blinding conclusion. His whole body shook with the thought of it. He might have even got away with thinking the woman had died in the room alone…until the neck.

The neck. Torn, jagged edged. Bloody. So much fucking blood pooled there. 5.6 liters, it echoed in his head-how much blood a human contained. It'd never sounded like too much. Not in theory. In practical-It filled the floor. He had touched it. She was dead, and her blood was literally on his hands. Who was she? Did she have a family? Why was she here? Why was she dead? Dead. Fucking Dead.

Air left him completely, a twitching hand pushed against his throat. I can't breathe-

And he couldn't look away even as he tried. It was too much, way too fucking much. But it wasn't all. Just as his eyes finally managed to look away, they linked to what he knew was what was left of her body, or pieces of it. Bone chipped by a tool without any close precision. Like the person hadn't cared less if the body was cut right or not. Someone cut the body into pieces. Small pieces. They littered the corner, joined closely by a full body-almost untouched if not for the dark space Kyle knew had once held eyes.

Gasping, he closed his eyes this time, begging for the images to go away. But closed eyelids did nothing to hide the sight. It burned his mind, etched there even as he tried to force them away behind a closed lock.

Something touched his shoulder and squeezed lightly, the sudden action had him starting harshly. He would have screamed-yet his voice was lost. Would he ever find it again? Legs closed around his body, the hand enclosing further around him, arm now pushing his front down onto a welcoming chest. "Don't cry, Kye…"

Kenny. Kenny. Kenny. He couldn't move, couldn't pull away from the hold even as every instinct inside him screeched at him to do so. He sat there, realizing Kenny's words belatedly. Cry? Hand on his throat inched upwards, Kyle's thumb touching his cheek softly; numbly. It was wet. When…

Time was going too slow yet too fast at the same time. It was overwhelming. Vilely overwhelming. Wrongly, disgustingly…

Kenny.

"Shh…" A hand patted through his hair. "I didn't want you to see this just yet, Kye. You aren't ready yet. Even you should know which way to turn in the house…Why'd you have to go this way, Kye?" Kenny stated more to himself than Kyle. He sighed heavily, as if Kyle was in the wrong.

Kenny.

"I don't want to have to hurt you, Kyle," Kenny said then, pausing mid-stroke of the redhead's curls. "But you weren't ready!" It was said so harshly that Kyle started again, heart skipping beats as its rhythm was lost completely.

Kenny, he…

The blond settled his head atop Kyle's own, stiff body becoming even stiffer at the action. Sweat pulsed towards his pores, a horrible feeling pooling into his stomach.

Kenny, he…

Another sigh, "I'll tell you what, I'll forgive you! But just this once, 'kay?" Kenny said, voice lightened to that of the friend Kyle knew and loved. But so very different. It wasn't just fakeness, as Kyle knew it to be.

Kenny, he killed these people…

Eyes widened further, tears streaming from non-blinking eyes. "Ken…" he croaked under his breath, a feat he didn't care for trying again.

"Shh, don't worry Kye, I know what you're thinking. Like I said though, you're forgiven, 'kay? So just relax, you won't feel a thing, I promise!"

Wait…

A sudden push on his shoulder, and darkness pooled across his vision.

Ken, you-you're…

"No…"

Insane.

He barely felt the lips press against his cheeks where the tears had manifested before he completely blacked-out, once-shaking body now fully limp in the blond's hold.

~Inspired by and Dedicated to My Dearest Occulta~Happy Birthday~

Author's End Note: Will contain some more gore, slashy elements, etc. in pretty much all chapters. Will be humorous, drama-ridden, and angst-filled horror at various points. You have been warned. (Should I have done this at the beginning of this chapter?...Nah.)