Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

      It was a silent night, dim lights from houses spread apart could be faintly seen. A foreign boy named Pip was in his house, alone due to his adoptive parents being late that evening. “They promised a family night for once..” He sighed as he adjusted his hat. The landline began ringing, and Pip was a little startled from it. He hesitantly took the phone, putting it up to his ear. “Hello?” He asked.

“Hello? Who is this?”

Pip sighed. Probably just a random guy who needs help. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I know you. Do you have the wrong number?” he asked, still nervous.

“I don’t know, do I?”

“You probably do, it’s alright though! I hope you reach the person you’re trying to reach!” Pip said before hanging up. Odd, but it’s alright. He was scrolling through movie options for him and his family to watch before the phone rang again. Puzzled, Pip went to answer it again. “Hello?”

“Oh, I must’ve dialed the wrong number.”

Pip was confused, and he asked, “Well, if I can ask, why’d you dial it again?”

“I wanted to apologize.”

Pip smiled a bit at that. Aw, how sweet! “Well, apology accepted. Have a good evening-”

“Wait, don't hang up!!” the voice sounded alarmed. Pip’s eyebrows furrowed in concern at that. “What, why? Is something wrong?”

“I want to talk to you for a second.”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry, but I’m waiting for my parents. Have a good evening.” Pip answered, hanging up the phone with a sigh. How much longer were they going to take? After finding a good movie, Pip started making some popcorn, hoping that his parents would come home soon. They could miss his homemade caramel popcorn for goodness sake!

As he turned on the stove and placed the small popcorn pot on it, the landline rang once again. Pip let it ring this time, focused on the hot surface in front of him, but the landline kept ringing. He sighed, picking it up, telling himself it was the last time.

“Hello?” Pip asked, his tone gaining a very slight hint of annoyance.

“Why don’t you want to talk to me?”

Pip felt bad immediately, the hint of annoyance leaving. “No, that’s not it- I just don’t know you. Who is this?”

“You tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine.”

Pip pondered that offer, but shook his head. “Sorry, but no-”

“Hey, what’s that sound?”

“Oh? It’s popcorn! I’m making for something special.” Pip said, a smile on his face.

“I only eat popcorn at the movies, it fits the mood better.”

“Well, I’m actually making it for a movie.” Pip chuckled.

“Oh really? What kind of movie?”

“Oh, it’s Home Alone! I quite enjoy it, even if it isn’t the seasons.” Pip said, leaving the popcorn to pop. “Boooo, it’s too early for all the Christmas movies. You should watch a scary one. It IS September.”

“Oh- no, I’m not a fan of horror films..” Pip said with a weary tone. “So much blood, not at all my cup of tea I'm afraid.”

“Come on, you gotta like SOME horror movies. They remind you that you’re still alive, after all.”

“I don’t know-”

“Just watch a horror movie, man. There’s so many, you’re bound to find one you’ll like..”

“I-I don’t think I will- sorry I’m squeamish..” Pip said, a little uncomfortable with this person’s persistence with horror movies. A few beats passed as the phone was silent, and Pip had almost though this person hung up until-

“Alright. How about a different topic? Do you have a partner?”

Pip flushed a bit at that. He had someone in mind, but he didn’t really know if the feeling was mutual. “No, I don’t.”

“Oh really? Honestly, it doesn’t sound surprising.”

“What- now excuse me, that was very rude!” Pip said, shaking his head. The voice on the other end just laughed, finding his response hilarious.

“Hey, you never told me your name.”

“Well- why do you want to know?” Pip asked, finding this conversation on the border of entertaining and upsetting.

“Because I wanna know who I’m looking at.”

Chills. Pip froze as he looked around almost immediately, his eyes widening slightly. “P-Pardon? Can you repeat that…?”

“I want to know who I’m talking to.”

“No- No that’s not what you said..” Pip responded in a wavering tone, his eyes scanning his backyard. “What do you think I said?”

“I- I’m afraid I have to go, my parents will be home soon-” Pip said, jumping a little at the sound of the popcorn popping.

“Hey, I thought we were having a conversation..”

“I’m sorry, not any longer if I have anything to say about it.” Pip said, his finger going to the landline’s end call button.

“Don’t hang up on me-”

Pip did. He let out a shaky sigh as he paced in the kitchen. Oh goodness- oh goodness oh goodness oh goodness- this person- was he pranking him??? ‘I mean, there’s no other British boys in South Park, maybe this man was like my classmates..’ he thought, but he shook the thought off. No, they wouldn’t hide behind a phone to bully him, they’d just do it all to his face..

As his mind raced, the phone rang again. He ignored it, still very freaked out and actively panicking. He was NOT touching that phone again- it flatlined, before it rang again. Pip, anxiously hoping it was his parents, picked it up with much hesitancy.

“I-If this is the same guy again, I’m sorry-”

“NO! LISTEN HERE YOU FOREIGN FUCK!!!! HANG UP OR IGNORE ME AGAIN AND I’LL GUT YOU LIKE A TURKEY ON THANKSGIVING!!!!”

Pip flinched from the raised voice, trembling as the voice laughed on the other side. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he felt scared.

“What kind of a joke is this..?” Pip asked with a quivering voice, his vision getting blurry.

“It’s more of a game, really. Can you handle something simple like that Brit?”

Pip trembled, his hands shaking as he held the phone. “Leave me alone, please!! I- I’ll call the police, they’ll find you soon!!” Pip cried, an empty threat. He didn’t know if the police would come, and South Park wasn’t really the best town when it comes to illegal act regulations. This must be why the voice’s laugh was even more terrifying to Pip.

“The police? They never make it in time. You’d know if you watched scary movies, you pussy.”

Pip didn’t know what to do. He was afraid- no- He was absolutely mortified. The walls felt like they were closing in, and he couldn’t tell if the sounds at the door were in his imagination or real. He double checked the lock, too panicked to properly function.

“I-I’m friends with Satan’s son!! He’s a very strong person and he- he-!!” Pip blurted out, not really thinking about what he was saying. The other line was silent, until it spoke in an aloof demeanor.

“Turn on your back lights.”

Pip froze, not wanting to do anything this voice said, but too scared to refute. He walked to his house’s back porch, flicking on the lights with a sweaty hand. There he was. Damien, the same boy he spoke of, tied up to a chair and struggling immensely. Pip choked out a sob, murmuring small no’s as he went to open the door. Damien seemed to notice this and rapidly shook his head, and the voice spoke again.

“I’d listen to the demon boy. You open that door now, I’ll rip your insides out in front of him.”

Pip stopped, crying as he had a hand on the glass. “What do you want..?” The voice laughed mockingly, as if finding Pip’s terror amusing.

“I wanna play a game.”

Pip sobbed, his hands trembling. “Please don’t hurt him..!!” He pleaded, his eyes still on Damien’s struggling form. “Well, that depends.”

        “Are you going to play or not?”

Pip felt a cold sweat build up on his neck as he gulped. He wasn’t good at games, but he couldn’t let Damien get hurt. Even if he’s the son of Satan, the fact that someone incapacitated him means that they could harm him.

“Tick tock British boy, are you gonna play or what?”

Pip was feeling clammy as he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“No answer? Guess I’ll just kill him now-”

“NO!!!” Pip said quickly, more tears falling. “No- No I’ll play!! I’ll play whatever game you want, just don’t hurt him!!” The voice chuckled at Pip’s desperation.

“Alright. Turn off the lights.”

Pip trembled as he looked at Damien, getting a good look at him before he moved to turn off the lights. Damien struggled harder, his eyes pleading as he was bathed in darkness once again. Pip backed away and onto the floor, his legs giving out as he cried.

“So, the game we’ll be playing is horror movie trivia.”

Pip’s eyes widened. He’d never watched any horror movies- “I-I don’t know any horror movies!!” He said, hiccuping. “Well, tough luck. I’ll give you a warm up question, just because I'm nice. Who’s the dream demon from A Nightmare on Elm Street?”

Pip racked his brain as he thought. He only knew the things that people talk about on Halloween- isn’t this one of them?? “Uhm..”

“Come on, I practically spoon fed you the answer with the dream demon remark.”

Pip pressed his lips into a fine line, his eyebrows furrowing. Dream demon, dream demon..

“Come on, Damien’s counting on you.”

Pip remembered Damien ranting about the inaccuracies in movies involving demons,

calling them stereotypical and cheesy.. A glimmer of recognition gleamed in Pip’s teary eyes as he clutched the phone. “Freddy!! Freddy Krueger!!” He exclaimed, hoping that that would help him.

“Good job. And you said you didn’t like horror movies. Now for the real question.”

Pip’s heart sank as he remembered that the question he had just answered was warm up. “No- Oh goodness..” Pip said wearily, crying harder at the prospect that he had to answer another question.

“Now, here's an oldie. What was the name of Pennywise’s first victim in IT?”

“I don’t know..” Pip whispered, shaking in fear as he couldn’t think straight anymore. Come on Pip, pull yourself together for this-

“Hurry up. HURRY UP-!!!”

“Georgie!!!” Pip yelled, his voice ringing. “Georgie!! He- He was the first victim!!” He panted, remembering when he walked in on his parents watching the movie. He felt a sense of relief wash through him as he answered.

“Sorry, but that’s incorrect.”

“...What..?”

Pip felt a very rare anger build up in him. “No- No that’s right- He’s the boy who got his arm taken off!! I’m sure of it-”

“If you were so sure you’d know that the first victim was actually LAURIE ANNE WINTERBARGER, YOU SNIVELING LITTLE BITCH!!!”

Pip sobbed, shaking his head as the voice shouted at him. The voice then composed itself as it chuckled. “Lucky for you ‘lad’, there’s a bonus round. But Damien? I’m afraid he’s been disqualified..”

Pip shot to his feet, practically smashing the lightswitch to the backyard- and he screamed. Damien was almost past recognition, his skin bubbling sickenly as it dripped from his body. Pip almost puked, the sight rancid and horrifying.

“You ready for the final question?”

Pip shook his head, turning off the light to the backyard, not wanting to stare at him any longer. “Please.. Leave me alone..”

“Answer this question correctly and I will. Where am I, front door or back?”

Pip sighed shakily, his hand clenching the phone as he seethed in his sorrow and rare rage. “Shove it up yours..” He murmured.

“Come on, last question! I promise..”

Pip shook his head. “No- I don’t want to play your game anymore!!”

The voice tutted, and a chair was launched through the glass doors leading to the backyard. Pip screamed as he backed away from the shattered door, grabbing a knife from the kitchen and running. A hooded figure walked through the broken glass, the shards crunching from beneath their boots.

Pip ran to his house’s den, knowing there was a place he could escape the house from. He rushed into a room, locking the door behind him as he looked for the window area he could climb out from, putting up boxes to help him reach it. His palms were sweaty and his breathing was erratic, panic consuming his mind as he fumbled with the lock on the window. He could just faintly hear footsteps, and the small taps of those boots made Pip more afraid than ever.

He finally unlocked the window, pushing it up and wriggling himself through it. However, the kitchen knife he had caught on the window’s latch, falling back into the room as Pip got out, unable to reach it now. Unaware, he stayed low as he crept around the side of the house, carefully lifting his head to look into one of the main floor windows. He couldn’t see anyone, nor could he hear the intruder. As he lifted his head higher, a ghostly face met his gaze. The masked figure broke the glass, a knife raised high in hand as he grabbed Pip with the other.

 Pip, now noticing he no longer had the kitchen knife, used the second thing in his hand, the phone. He bashed it on the masked person’s head, using whatever leverage he could to get out of the slasher’s grip. The person let go, allowing Pip to make a run for it. Pip ran into the chilly night, his breath visible as he could see headlights. His parents!!

He started waving his arms, a flash of hope in his heart as he ran. “Mom-!!!” He began, only for it to be interrupted as he was tackled to the ground. He turned quickly to face his attacker, just as a knife was jabbed into his abdomen. He gaped, pain written all over his face as he was stabbed over and over again. Blood pooled in his mouth as he trembled, letting out almost silent wails as the figure twisted the knife in his gut.

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“Philip! We’re home!” Mrs. Pirrip called, taking her coat off at the door. Mr. Pirrip scrunched up his face, waving his arm in the air. “By God- why is there smoke in here? Philip!! Where are you?” He frowned. The two stopped however as they surveyed the kitchen and living room. Mr. Pirrip kneeled down to the broken glass, his eyebrows furrowed. Suddenly, Mrs. Pirrip screamed, having seen the bubbling body of Damien.

“MY WORD!!! We have to call the police!!” She exclaimed, taking a different phone from the land line. Instead of being able to call 911, she could hear ragged, gurgled gasps. Her face was filled with worry as she listened in. “Hello? Philip, is that you?” She asked. A sound of recognition was heard on the other line, and she felt a wave of dread wash over her.

“What is it, dear? What’s wrong?” Mr. Pirrip asked, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. Mrs. Pirrip shuddered. “I-It’s Phillip- by gods it’s Philip-” She whispered. The line suddenly disconnected, and Mrs. Pirrip panicked. “Philip? Philip?! Oh my god- we have to find him!!” She said frantically, dropping the phone as she rushed outside.

“D-Dear!! Wait up!!” Mr. Pirrip said, sharing her panic. As Mrs. Pirrip ran out the front door, she was met with her son’s mangled corpse, his intestines beginning to pool out of his gut. Her throat tightened as she let out a blood curdling scream.

Philip “Pip” Pirrip - September 25th, 1996, found dead by parents around 10 pm. Causation- Multiple stab wounds to vital organs.

Damien Thorn- September 25th, 1996, found dead alongside Phillip Pirrip by the latter’s parents at the same time. Causation- Holy water in high doses.

Chapter Text

“Ike!! What did I tell you about messing with my stuff?!”

The Canadian giggled, running down the hall with Kyle’s hat. Kyle took a sharp turn, almost running into the door. “Ack- dude!!! Give it-”

Ike dropped the hat behind him, sliding it down just as Kyle’s foot made contact with the floor. He fell straight onto his face with a  loud bang. Ike cackled hysterically, and Kyle grumbled. “Ike…” 

“It’s fun when you chase me!” Ike laughed, and Kyle just sighed. “I know Ike, but you gotta get to bed, man. Mom’ll kill you if she sees you up and out of your room.” Ike blew a raspberry, but after a wrestle with Kyle, he went back to his room. Kyle chuckled, standing up from the floor and brushing off his pants. He went back to his own room and opened up one of his textbooks. Gee, look how fun AP Human Geography is. He started skimming through a couple of the pages, before he heard a knock at his window.

He turned, a puzzled look on his face as he went over, opening it and looking around. Suddenly, a head of black hair popped up, a smile on his face. “Hey dude!”

Kyle yelled, spooked by the unexpected appearance of his (super) best friend. “Holy shit- Stan!! What the hell??” Kyle asked. Stan laughed, pulling himself through Kyle’s window. “Dude, you sounded like a sissy-” He snickered, causing Kyle to flush slightly. “Oh go fuck yourself, man.”

Stan raised an eyebrow at that, before Kyle’s mother bursted into his room. “What’s going on?! I heard a scream!!”

Kyle sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “No mom, there wasn’t- wait- why are you even in here?! You have a plane to catch in a couple of hours, you gotta sleep.”

Sheila’s face scrunched up. “Kyle, I heard a scream, I know it! Maybe going on that trip isn’t the best idea- I should be here with you and Ike-”

“No! Mom, seriously, you don’t need to worry about me and Ike. I’m 17, I can take care of a hyperactive 10 year old for a couple days.” He sighed, crossing his arms. He takes care of his friends for crying out loud, that should be put on his babysitting resume. Sheila huffed. “Oh alright. I’m goin’ to bed. Don’t stay up all night, okay?” She said, crossing her arms as well. Kyle and her stared at each other for a moment before he nodded. “Okay mom. Get some rest.” 

Sheila then left, and Stan popped back up from the side of Kyle’s bed. “Yeesh, almost got found out.” He murmured, his cheek resting on Kyle’s sheets. Kyle snickered. “Dude, it's not like you’re a secret. Only question I have is why through the window??”

Stan shrugged. “I just noticed I’ve never done that before. Thought it would be fun, y’know? Like those cheesy romantic movies.”

Kyle laughed, a hand on his mouth. “Dude, that’s such a stupid reason, and yet it oddly makes sense. So, whatcha need Stan?” He asked, sitting on the edge of his bed. Stan lifted his cheek from the bed, crawling onto it and wrapping his arms around Kyle. “Well, I just wanted to see how you were doing, especially since you’ll be the one holding down the fort while you’re mom’s away..” He began, resting his head on the crook of Kyle’s neck. Kyle chuckled, pushing Stan’s head. “You know you can’t always come by when you get blue-balled by Wendy, right?”

Stan pouted, groaning. “Duuuuuudeeeee, come onnnn. Wendy and I have an open relationship, I'm allowed to come whenever I want.” Kyle rolled his eyes. “Still, dude. We’ve got a lot more important things to do other than sex.”

Stan grumbled, arms still wrapped around the redhead. “Fine, be like that Ky.” He pouted, giving a quick peck to Kyle’s neck. Kyle laughed, swatting Stan back. The two played around a bit, hushed laughs heard from the two. They then just decided to play some Battleship, per Kyle’s request.

“Nope. Stan, you’re getting worse at this by the day.” Kyle snickered, causing Stan to gawk. “Hey, come on. You’re the natural strategist out of the two of us.” Stan huffed.

“5D, from what I can guess, it's a sink.” Kyle said with a laugh, finding Stan’s shocked face a little cute. “No way!! I want a rematch, you totally cheated.” Stan accused, pointing a finger at Kyle who had a fake offended look. “Didn’t you just say I was a natural strategist?? Logically, cheating wouldn’t be the right move because I wouldn’t need to in the first place.” Kyle joked, playing into the “smart guy” dialect. Stan scoffed, pushing Kyle. “Shut up, jackass. I still want a rematch though.”

“Oh you’re on, Marsh.” Kyle said with a wide grin.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Kyle was getting Ike ready, helping him haul his backpack on. “Remember Ike, call me when you finish mock trial, ‘kay?”

Ike nodded, waving to Kyle as he got onto the bus. Kyle chuckled, pulling his own coat on and walking to the high school. South Park High, home of the Cows. As Kyle walked to campus, he could hear a lot of commotion, very familiar commotion, near the school building.  He sighed, walking past the many cameras and news vans.

“In the town of South Park, a damning event occurred last night. Two teenage boys were found murdered at the Pirrip residence, one severely burned by what seems to be a type of water, and the other with his insides spilling out. A tragic loss indeed, but the biggest question above all is who would have done this? I’m Craig Tucker, and stay tuned for more information on this mysterious slasher.”

Kyle was confused by the masses of news reporters and people as he walked. What happened anyways? Kyle felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned, being face to face with one of his good friends, Marjorine. She had a worried expression on her face, her lip pursed. “Isn’t it sad?”

“What is? Why’re there so many reporters here today?”

Marjorine seemed caught off guard by this. “Oh, you haven’t heard? Damien Thorn and Pip Pirrip were found murdered last night!”

Kyle’s expression darkened as his mouth pressed into a thin line. “What?”

“I know! And it wasn’t a very clean murder, it was like an exploded burrito kind of murder!” She said, her hands mimicking her words. Kyle sighed, shaking his head. “Do they have any clues to who killed them?”

“Not even one. But they’ve been interrogating everyone at school! Teachers, students, staff, janitors..” She listed, counting on her manicured fingers. “Golly, Tweek said this was the worst case they’ve ever seen, even worst than-” she stopped, her face showing immediate regret as she could see the way Kyle’s face seemed to harden more at her words. “I-I mean- crumbs, I’m sorry..” She murmured, looking down at her clogs. Kyle shook his head, looking back at Craig with a frustrated expression…

“-I mean honestly, who would do such a thing? It’s so harrowing to think about-”

Kyle groaned internally, so badly just wanting Mr. Garrison to get to the lesson rather than spout on and on about his own theories about this recent murder. His cheek was pressed against the wooden desk, his eyes never leaving the vacant seat next to him, where Pip had sat. Kyle’s mind wandered. What kind of wounds did the two of them have? Was there a specific way their wounds were made? Had they identified the kind of knife used, if any? Was the killer left handed or right handed? Who in the school had an official record, or motive to kill? Is there any connection to older cases in South Park? If-

“KAHL!!! Go to the principal’s office!!” Cartman yelled, snapping Kyle out of his frenzy of questions. “Shut up fatass!!” Kyle shot back, practically on auto pilot. His expression then changed to confusion as he looked at the fat boy. “Wait- why?!”

“Because it’s your turn, dumbass.” Cartman said, crossing his arms. Kyle was going to ask why, but Mr. Garrison cut him off. “For the investigation, Kyle.”

Kyle flipped Cartman off as he left the room. The beginning of Cartman’s tantrum was heard by the redhead, causing a smile to form on his face.

“Who’s next again?” Detective Harris asked, his posture hard and intimidating. Tweek looked down at the clipboard in his hands, twitching slightly. “Um- Kyle Broflovski.”

“Kyle, he’s the son of-” PC Principal started, only for Harris to hold up a hand to interject. “Everyone knows who Kyle is, PC. Speaking of which, how is he doing?”

“Well, he’s maintained his grades in the A range, but he’s had a spike in-” He began, but he noticed Kyle in the doorway. He stopped, getting up from his seat to let Kyle in, and he went back once he did. Kyle walked in, his hands in his pockets as he stood next to the officers. “Hello Kyle.” Harris greeted, and Kyle hummed. “Detective, Tweek.”

Tweek twitched again, and a small frown was on his face as he shook his head. “Today, it’s Deputy Tweak, Ky.”

Kyle just stifled a small chuckle, pulling up a chair and sitting down. He knew the drill, answer questions, show that he’s innocent, and leave. He knew it too well. “So Kyle, how’s everything going?” Harris asked, and Kyle shrugged.

“It’s fine.”

“How’s your mother and Ike?”

“They’re fine.”

Harris hummed, and PC Principal tapped his desk a couple times. “They just have a couple of questions to ask you, Kyle.”

Kyle sighed as he leaned on Stan, who was eating a sandwich. He was sitting with Marjorine, Kenny, and Cartman, who were discussing with each other about their questioning sessions.

“Wait, they asked you guys if you like hunting?” Marjorine asked, her eyebrows furrowed. Kenny chuckled, looking like he was stoned or something as he hugged Marjorine from behind. “Yep. What, they didn't ask you Marj?” He murmured, his head resting on top of her head.

“They didn’t! Why do you think that?”

“Cause the two of them were gutted, dummy. A girl couldn't have done that.” Cartman said, a bag of chips in his hand. Marjorine looked down, and Stan interjected. “Cartman, you don't have to be sexist. You got beat up by Wendy way back in elementary, a girl could have totally done this.”

“Stan, you moron, this is just like a horror movie! The killer is almost never a girl, it’s like a 99 to 1 ratio dude.” Cartman shot back, shoveling a couple chips into his mouth. Kenny planted a soft kiss to Marjorine’s head, looking over to Cartman. “Whatever you say, fatass.”

Kyle lifted his head from Stan’s shoulder, one of the questions from before popping back into his head. “How do you even gut someone?”

Everyone looked over to Kyle, and Kenny raised an eyebrow. “Well, you take a knife and slit from the groin to the sternum.” he said, pantomiming the action. Kyle grimaced, and Stan shot Kenny a look.

“What?? He asked.” Kenny said, a pout on his lip. Stan narrowed his eyes with a sigh. “It’s called tact, fucktard.” Kenny murmured an apology, and Marjorine patted his head.

“Hey, Marj, didn’t you and Pip hang out a while back?” Kyle asked, and Marjorine hummed. “Well, hang out wouldn’t be the best way to put it. More like required partner work.”

“Hey, was that the night you couldn’t go out and see me?” Kenny frowned, and Marjorine nodded. “I’m sorry, my parents told me I had to work on my project! Even then, I still got grounded.”

Cartman laughed. “You always get grounded  Marjorine, it isn’t much of a surprise anymore. Though, it is a bit sus that you used to study together.” He said, leaning in close. Kenny pulled Marjorine away, narrowing his eyes.

“Hey, are you implying that sweet Mar-Mar here could have done this?? Shame on you.” He said, poking at Marjorine’s cheeks.  She giggled, and Cartman deadpanned.

”Yeah, no, you’re right. Marj ain’t got a murderous bone in her body.”

“Well, if you’re so big on accusations Cartman, where were you during the murders?” Stan asked, an eyebrow raised.

”If you must know, I was at work.” Cartman huffed, crossing his arms. Kyle scrunched up his face. “You mean the video shop that fired your sorry ass?”

“Twice.” he said under his breath, and Kenny laughed. “Well, Im not the killer.”

”No one said you were Kenny.” Stan chuckled, giving a high five to the boy. Cartman scoffed, but a huge smile was on his face. “Did you put his liver in the mailbox? Because what I heard, his liver was in the mailbox with his spleen and pancreas~” 

Marjorine grimaced, looking at Cartman with a slightly mortified look. “Cartman!! I’m trying to eat!!”

Cartman rolled his eyes, eating more chips as Kenny smirked. “Hey man, she’s getting upset, you better liver alone!”

Kyle groaned and got up to leave, and Stan furrowed his eyebrows at Kenny.

“Liv- what?? Liver, liver. It was a joke!”

Chapter Text

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Kyle rode the bus home, since he didn’t have to pick up Ike just yet. When it dropped him off, he unlocked the door and sighed as he closed it. God damn it, what the fuck just happened at school?? A couple minutes passed and the phone rang. Kyle was drying his hair, having taken a shower to calm down, and he picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hey Kyle! Just wanted to check in, make sure you’re doing well.” Marjorine’s voice said. Kyle chuckled. “Yeah, I’m doing fine M.”

“Well, I also wanna tell you that since Tweek is so busy with the new case, my dad said I had to invite a friend over so I wouldn’t be alone.”

“Your DAD said that?” Kyle spoke with an incredulous expression. “You gotta be pulling my leg M, there is no way he’s actually considering your wellbeing.”

“Well, you aren’t wrong. He just wants somebody to watch me so I don’t do any bad stuff.” She said, and Kyle could imagine her doing air quotations. He laughed either way. “So, are you askin’ me to come over?”

“Basically, yeah. I can come get you if-”

“Nah, don't worry about that, I have to pick up Ike in an hour anyways. I’ll see you around.. 5?” Kyle said, throwing the wet towel into his laundry basket. Marjorine hummed. “Yeah, see you then Kyle!”

After Kyle hung up, he got his bag from the closet and packed, then he sat on the couch, turning on the tv. Of course, the moment he does, he gets a face full of news.

“The bodies of 17 year old Pip Pirrup and 18 year old Damien Thorn were discovered last night by his parents-”

Kyle switched the channel.

“The South Park double murder case. Authorities are stumped by this seemingly ghost of a case-”

Kyle switched the channel.

“Everyone is shocked by these recent murders, although it isn't the first tragedy for the people of South Park. Just last year, Gerald Broflovski, a husband and father was found murdered in his own house, right around this time-”

Kyle turned the tv off, throwing the remote to the other side of the couch with some force. He sighed, rubbing his temples as he just wanted to turn the world off. He couldn’t help the way his mind started to line things up, like a cork board in his head. Same time of year. Is there a preference for the autumn season? The bodies were found around 10 last night, so is there a specific kind of schedule this killer follows? But that wouldn’t line up with his- his dad’s murder, which had been around 6 in the afternoon. But still, September, what was so special about September? Was it the weather that made it special? A certain tradition maybe?

Kyle couldn’t just keep thinking about it, he needed to write it down. He went to his room and grabbed a blank notebook of his. Sure, it was the notebook that his therapist told him to use to record his feelings that day, but did it really matter what he used it for?? He opened the front page and turned on his computer to do some research…

Kyle jolted up when he heard the phone ringing again, and he propped his head up. Did he really fall asleep?? He checked the time and- OH FUCK HE NEEDED TO PICK IKE UP- He rushed downstairs and picked up the phone. “Ike? Is that you??”

“Hi Kyle! Yeah, I just wanted to tell you we went into overtime, so you’re gonna have to pick me up in another hour.”

Kyle sighed as he slumped onto the wall. “Okay Ike, I’ll see you then..” He murmured, hanging up the phone. Guess he could cram some more research.. That was until the phone rang again. Assuming it was Marjorine asking about the time, he picked it up. “Hey, Marji, change of plans-”

“Hello Kyle.”

Huh? Oh, it's a random caller. “Uh.. hi? Who’s this?”

“You tell me.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “I have no clue.”

“Scary night right? With all the murders happening, you’d think we were in a horror movie.”

“Fatass, I know it’s you.”

“Do you like scary movies, Kyle?”

“Cartman, you sound like a dumbass.”

“What’s your favorite scary movie Kyle?”

“I dunno, I don’t watch that crap.” Kyle said, leaning on the wall.

“Why not? Too scared?”

“Pff, no. If anything, I’m scared of repeating narratives. All of them are the same. Either some adults or some teenagers wanna get it on but are terrorized by a guy in a mask. It’s less horror, and more just yelling at the lead girl to run out the building instead of going higher up. It’s insane.” Kyle criticized, chuckling to himself.

“Are you alone?”

“Of course you’d use that line Cartman, it's so unoriginal.”

“Well maybe because I’m not Cartman.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “Well then.. Who are you?”

“Now who’s unoriginal? It’s not about who I am, it’s where I am..”

Kyle’s face turned to slight frustration. “Then where are you?” he asked, looking around. “Your front porch.”

“Why the hell would you be at my front porch?” Kyle questioned, creeping towards the front door. “That’s the original part..”

Kyle opened the front door quickly, phone held up as a weapon (for some reason that Kyle had no explanation to). No one. He sighed, walking out and putting the phone back up to his ear. “Yeah, I’ll call your bluff idiot. Now where are you?”

“Im right here.”

“Can you see me?” He asked, raising his hand.

“Yes.”

Kyle scoffed lightly. He then pretended to put a finger up his nose. “How about this? What am I doing now, huh?” The voice didn’t respond. Kyle snickered again.

“Yeah, okay, nice try Cartman. Get back to whatever you’re doing-”

“If you hang up on me you’ll die just like your father. Do you want to die, Kyle? Your father sure didn’t~”

Kyle felt anger flare up in his chest, and he furrowed his eyebrows. “Fuck you, you bastard!!” he yelled, going back inside and locking the door. Suddenly, a cloaked figure jumped out the closet and sliced at Kyle.

“Shit!” Kyle ducked, cursing as he did. The figure headbutted Kyle, causing him to fall onto the ground. He groaned, dazed by the sudden impact. The figure traced their knife along Kyle’s jaw, raising it high for a blow. Kyle shook off the daze, his breath hitching as he kicked the person square in the chest. The moment the figure’s weight shifted, Kyle pushed himself up and ran to the front door.

“Fuck I’m an idiot!!” he cursed to himself before he quickly moved, almost getting stabbed again. He saw that the slasher’s knife was lodged into the door, so he quickly went upstairs. He wouldn’t have made it to the landline in time to dial 911, so the next best thing was his computer. He could hear the person running after him. He opened his room door, running to his computer and waking it up.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck..” Kyle murmured under his breath. The killer tried to get inside the room but the door was unable to open because Kyle’s closet door was still open. Thank god for his messy packing.. He typed 911 on his computer as he kept his distance from the door, his breathing unsteady as he watched the figure attempt to swing their knife at him. When the struggle against wood seemed to stop, Kyle let out a sigh of relief, his hands shaking.

“Hey, Kyle-”

Kyle jumped, immediately swinging his fist at the newcomer, Stan. Stan groaned, clutching the side of his face. “Oh shit- Stan?? Im so sorry- why the fuck did you come in from the window again?!” Kyle shouted, a hand on his chest.

“Owww.. Jeez man, your front door was locked, and I heard shouting.” He said, rubbing the red area on his cheek. He noticed that Kyle seemed on edge, and his eyes softened. “Hey, dude, are you okay?”

Kyle sputtered, trying to find the words. “I- There- the killer. He was here- I was a fuckin idiot for locking the door, I’m sorry I-”

“Kyle, hey, it's okay..” Stan said, pulled Kyle in for a hug. Kyle sighed, letting Stan as he smoothed down his hair. “It’s gonna be okay, he’s gone.”

A cell phone fell down from Stan’s pocket, and Kyle blinked. He pulled away from Stan, looking at him with wide eyes. “What?” Stan asked, and Kyle backed up. “Kyle, what?”

Kyle shook his head, running out the house. His trust issues flared uncomfortably, his mind racing. Could Stan be the killer?? He didn't want to think that, but so many things could be possible. As he got to the front door, he found it suspiciously unlocked now. He opened it was spooked by the ghost mask. “JESUS-”

“ACK!!” Tweek screamed, moving the mask in his hand. Kyle let out a shaky sigh, and Tweek twitched. “Sorry Kyle- this was on the porch.. Come on.”

The police hauled Stan out, and he had a confused look on his face.

“Hold your hands together.” one of the officers said.

“Do you wish to give up your right to remain silent?” Tweek asked, putting the cuffs on Stan.

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Do you wish to give up- ack- your right to speak to an attorney and have them present during questioning?”

“Ask him, he’ll tell you!!”

Detective Harris pulled up, exiting his car. “What have we got here, Tweek?”

“I caught him, Detective.”

Harris hummed, narrowing his eyes at Stan. “Hm. It’s Randy’s kid..”he murmured.

“Detective- you gotta call them off- please- I didn’t do anything!” Stan said. “Call that deadbeat- He’ll tell you.”

Stan looked back at Kyle, a pleading look in his eyes. “Kyle- Kyle!!” The police took Stan away, and Harris turned to Tweek. “How’s he doing?”

Tweek twitched, scratching the back of his neck. “He’s fine.. I think-”

“Well, I’d hope he is.” Harris sighed, turning over to look at Kyle, who was being checked by medical staff. He walked over to the redhead. “Kyle, do you think you could come down to the station and answer a couple more questions?”

Marjorine ran down the sidewalk, stopping as she made it over to the group, catching her breath. “Ky-Kyle- are you alright?” She panted. Tweek’s expression soured. “Marjorine- you can’t be here, this is an official crime scene!!” He frowned, and Marjorine shared his sour expression. “Oh come on Tweek!! I told Kyle he was allowed to come over for the night. He didn’t show up on time and I wanted to make sure he was okay!!”

Tweek sputtered, his eyebrows furrowing. “Wha- does dad know??”

“Yes, he's the reason why I asked in the first place!” she shot back, sitting next to Kyle. Tweek sighed, turning over to Harris again. “You won’t believe this.” He said, giving the ghost mask to him. Harris hummed as Tweek shuddered. “Creepy huh…?”

The news reporters finally made it to the scene, and Craig, along with his cameraman Clyde, walked out. “Well I’ll be damned..” Craig said, a smile on his face.

“Huh?” Clyde hummed, turning to Craig. Craig shook Clyde’s shoulder. “Jesus, get the camera.”

“Dude, my name isn’t Jesus-”

Kyle and Tweek were heading to his car, and Craig attempted to intercept them. “Kyle, is that you there?”

When no one answered, he looked over to Marjorine. “Hey, is that Kyle Broflovski they just took away?”

Marjorine shook her head, looking very uncomfortable. “Um-”

“What happened just now? I heard there was a costume, right? Can you tell me anything?”

“Um.. I don’t think I can answer that.” Marjorine said, getting into the car with Kyle and Tweek.

Clyde tilted his head as the car drove away. “Where are they going?”

Craig sighed. “Look, Clyde,”

“Yeah?”

“I know you're 50 pounds overweight but when I say hurry, please interpret that as MOVE your fat tub-of-lard-ass NOW!” Craig said as he ran to the news van. Clyde ran after Craig, almost dropping his camera.

At the police station, Kyle and Tweek were talking about where Kyle’s mom was. “Did you find her?”

“You said Hilton, right?” Tweek asked, and Kyle nodded. “Yeah, near the airport.”

Tweek shook his head. “It says she’s not registered. Do you think she stayed somewhere else?” Kyle shrugged. “I- I dunno, she would have told me if she did.”

Tweek put a hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “It’s okay Kyle, we’ll find her. I’ll be right back.” As Tweek left, Kyle could see Stan looking at him from Detective Harris’s office window. “Let me ask you this, why do you have a cell phone kid?” Harris asked.

“Everyone should have one, Detective. I promise you I didn’t make those calls. I swear it.” Stan said. Randy, Stan’s dad, sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Just check the phone bill for christ sake. Call my phone provider, they record every call I make.” he said, seemingly finding this as a nuisance. Harris hummed. “What were you doing over at Kyle’s house?”

“He’s my best friend, I wanted to check up on him.”

“And yesterday? He said you climbed through his window last night too?” Harris asked, looking at Randy to see if he had any opinion, but nothing. “Well, we’re gonna have to hold your son until we get those phone records.”

Stan sighed, holding his head in his hands as Randy just shrugged. On the outside, the whole station was surrounded by news reporters and vans. Different reporters were discussing, attempting to get inside. Meanwhile, Craig and Clyde push through crowds. “Hey, do you think they have donuts inside?” Clyde asked, and Craig just rolled his eyes. “I don’t think they’re letting anyone in, Craig.”

“Well, I’m not just anybody.”

“A bitch god…” Clyde murmured, and Craig looked back at him. “Clyde, are we on?”

He nodded, and Craig put on his best reporter face. “Hi, I’m Craig Tucker, reporting live from South Park police station hoping to get a glimpse of Kyle Broflovski.”

“Hey, watch it man.”

”Hey! Watch the hair, don’t you know who you’re dealing with?”

“Randy, tell them! Come on, tell them!!”

“He’s waiting for the lawyer, Stan.” Harris said. As the police took Stan away, Kyle stayed near Marjorine.

”Kyle, Kyle, come on, you know me! Kyle look at me, come on!” Stan shouted. 

Kyle’s mind raced, too many possibilities running through his head. He wanted to trust his best friend- but the logical part of him kept insisting that he shouldn’t. Sometimes he hated having an active mind, since it usually ended up getting him into shit. Marjorine side-hugged Kyle, trying to comfort him. “It’ll be alright Kyle, do you wanna leave? I can ask Tweek if we could leave, if you’d like.” She asked, but Kyle didn’t respond.

“Sir- They sell this costume for a dime in every state, there’s no way we can track the purchase!” Tweek said, fidgeting with his hands as he spoke with Harris. The man huffed. “What about the phone bill?”

“We’re pulling it up, but we’re not going to really know anything until morning.” Tweek said, and Marjorine crossed her arms. “Well why not now? This is super serious, why do you have to wait till morning Tweek??” She asked, her concern for her friend boiling over with impatience.

Tweek waved her off, giving her a look as he went back to talking with Harris. “Do you think he did it?”

“If you were to ask me that 20 years ago, I’d say not a chance. But nowadays kids do anything, I don’t have a clue.” Harris said with a sigh, and Marjorine kept trying to talk to Tweek.

“Tweek! Can you not hear me? What’s up with the case right now??”

“Marj, give me a minute-”

“Gosh darn it, Tweek.’ She huffed, and Tweek turned to her, twitching again. “Marjorine, remember what mom said? When I wear this badge you treat me as a man of the law!” He said, with a hint of insecurity. Marjorine crossed her arms, but nodded.

“Sorry “Deputy Tweak”. But can we please go home now?” She asked, and Tweek murmured “Fine.” The police officers in the vicinity chuckled at the sibling’s display, causing Tweek to flush and hurry to take Marjorine and Kyle out of the station. Meanwhile, Craig was trying to find a way into the station, scoffing at the amount of people surrounding the building. This was his scoop. These busters should’ve buzzed off the moment he got here.

“Isn’t there another way in?” He said, and Clyde hummed. “I think so, maybe down that alley.”

Tweek took Marjorine and Kyle out of the station via that same alley, hoping to not encounter the press. “You guys stay put, I’ll go grab the car. Don’t make any sudden sounds-”

“There he is, Kyle!”

“ACK!!”

Craig had spooked the siblings, but that didn’t seem to bother the news reporter. He pushed past Tweek, speaking as he did. “This must’ve been a crazy night for you Kyle, do you have anything to say? Are you alright?”

Marjorine stood in front of Kyle, her eyebrows furrowed. “Mr, I don’t think he’s open for questions, so could you please back up?”

“No, it’s alright Marj.” Kyle said finally. “He’s just doing his job, right Craig?”

Craig smiled. “That’s right.”

“How’s the book going?” Kyle said, a bitter look in his eyes.

“It’ll be out later this year, actually.” Craig mused.

“I’ll look for it.” Kyle said, his eye twitching. Craig waved it off though. “No need,” He said, a proud smile on his face. “I’ll send you a copy.”

Kyle just laughed sarcastically before he socked Craig in the face. Marjorine and Tweek both jumped, and Clyde whistled. “Damn, nice shot.”

“Bitch.” Kyle scowled.