South Park: Decent to Madness

Part 5: Hell's Child (Kenny's POV)

It was an average afternoon. I was lying on my bed, staring at my celing, wondering where all my childhood had gone. It seemed that every time I tried to remember something, all I felt was extreme pain. Suffering from the likes that I could not imagine. It made almost perfect since though, didn't it? I had spent most of my childhood dying, over and over again. Bullets, spears, knives, and so many others had ended my life so many times that excruciating pain became a part of life. I had seen my life flash before my eyes many times. I had seen the deep pits of Hell with my own eyes. And I had felt the hands of Satan himself thrust me back into the world for another reincarnation. I asked God why he did this. Why must you make me suffer? Why can't you just let me die? Why me? He doesn't answer. Only ignores my questions. Am I even real?

This questioning of my own existence has stemmed through all the trips through Hell I have taken, all the times I have been reincarnated. But there is one thing that still haunts me, and it isn't the suffering I saw in bloody pits. When I was trapped inside Cartman's body, I felt true insanity. The lust for blood, the need to wreak havoc, the pleasure that comes with seeing others bleed. I felt it all. I saw all that goes on in his head. Fantasies of murdering Kyle, bombing small towns, torturing his mother....I saw it all in my head. And while stuck inside him, I started to forget who I was. Was I Kenny, poor boy from down the street, or Cartman, evil bastard from uptown? I desperately tried to get free, tried to ask Kyle from Cartman's mouth, but nobody listened. Nobody could help me.

When I finally escaped and reclaimed my body, I was hollow. I had seen the deepest reaches of Hell, and yet nothing could've prepared me for what was inside his head. I then decided that Hell did not truly serve its purpose as a punishment for sinners. The true punishment was cursing sinners with insanity, the need to kill and rampage. If insanity was what waited for sinners in the afterlife, then I guarantee nobody would ever sin again.

I kept to myself for a while after that. I was still trying to get my thoughts back together, trying to feel human again. For some reason, I did not die during this time period. Perhaps the universe figured I needed a break? But while my friends blindly went about, my teachers noticed an incredible increase in my intelligence. I guess I reached a sort of Nirvana, where the darkness has brung out something powerful in me. But I can't say I like it. Too many thoughts. So many.

As I aged into my teenage years, I grew a little more distant from my friends. Kyle, Stan and I remained close, but it just didn't feel the same way. But when Cartman was casted out of our group, I grew afraid. I could see some of his inner demons starting to take over. They carved smiles into his face, and forced him to go about his buisness, and restrain from killing all of us.

I'm scared of him, to say the least.

And I think that he killed someone tonight.

And I'm going to find her.

I'm not going to try and stop Cartman, though. He's far too powerful for me now. The least I can do is ensure that his victims get a proper funeral. Perhaps they can rest in peace, far, far away from this cursed town. I pack up my backpack, and begin to leave the house. Mother's passed out on the couch again, and Father is god knows where, so I have no problem taking the shovel and other things I may need. I'm about to set off by myself, but I begin to think of my friends. Stan. Perhaps he'd understand my dilemma. After all, his own mind is its own version of Hell. He's dealt with demons, maybe he will mourn with me.

It's 3 AM, and I'm knocking on his window. Stan jolts awake, obviously shaken. He sees me in the window and exhales. He opens it up for me. "Kenny? What are you doing here at this hour?" He asked. I wanted to explain the situation to him, but only choked sobs came out of my throat. I started crying loudly, sobbing horribly. I feel as if blood may come out of my mouth. I want to scream. "OH UNFORGIVING GOD, END MY SUFFERING ON THIS ACCURSED PLANET!" I begged towards the sky. Stan was freaking out, and his parents had rushed into the room. God did not answer my prayers. They took me down from the windowstill and hugged me, like the loving parents they were. But I didn't understand why.

I explained nothing to them. I told them I was high. But Stan knew that wasn't true. I'd never touch drugs. His parents believed me, and scolded me as such. They made me leave, but I had to circle around to their backyard to get my stuff.

My backpack, the one with the hunting knife, and the shovel, were gone.

I started running as fast as I could. He had found me. He knew.

I dove into the woods, thinking I was safe for a moment.

There was a quick blur, a loud thud, and my conscieness left me.

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