KennyxWendy-Shared Pain

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In the days after the strange encounter with Kenny, to which she wrote off as being something of a typical occurrence in South Park, Wendy was having trouble sleeping at night. Her dreams were filled with fear inducing nightmares, and she was having difficulty convincing herself that they weren’t of any real danger to herself. That they were as reasonable to fear as a child fears clowns or the stuffed bear with red tinted eyes. All they were to her were confusing.

Sometimes she’d wake up screaming.

The dreams were always the same. A dark alley way. She was running through a dark alley way. Someone was chasing her. In her hand she clutched a purse.

A dead end.

She was cornered. A hooded figure approached her. She fumbled in her purse for a can of mace.

He was getting closer. A knife reflected the yellow lamplight. It came for her.

Screaming. Then blood. Blood everywhere. It wasn’t hers. Someone had saved her at the last minute.

She tried to see his face. But then-

Blinding pain. White hot. There was the knife again, buried in her chest. Everything was coated in red. It splattered shiny wet onto the gravely pavement. It soaked through her purple jacket. It dripped onto the masked face of her savior. That bothered her. It made it harder to see his face, but she was dying. But the man-

He was already dead. And so was she.

She woke up feeling like the knife was still in her chest.

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It got worse. The nightmares persisted and persisted. Wendy couldn’t sleep without the fear of being plagued by the gruesome images of murder. She worried if they were visions of an event soon to happen.

With that thought she made sure to avoid alley ways at all costs.

Worse of all was that it was starting to affect her grades. When she found out that she got a C on her math test, she was furious. She never did so poorly! And she was supposed to be class president, an example that everyone should follow, not some average, barely acceptable student. She wasn’t Kenny-

Kenny. That was the other weird thing about it. As much as she despised him for his disgustingly lewd behavior and his less than passing grades, she didn’t think she hated him so much that he gave her ulcers whenever he was nearby. She swore that his very presence pained her. The closer he got the worse she felt, and it felt like her chest was gonna explode.

After nearly a week of no sleep and tons of medication trying to get rid of the pain, Wendy just collapsed. It had to be at the worst of times too.

After barely surviving another day of high school, Wendy was practically dragging herself to the bus loop when she felt the now familiar pain in her chest. In her sleep-deprived mind and with the single-minded goal of making it home so that she could once again make an attempt at a peaceful night of sleep, she ignored it and continued onward. As she got nearer to the hallway leading out back of the school to the parking lot, the pain intensified, and Wendy had to pause several times before she could convince herself that she could make it. She seemed stupidly determined to continue, and why reason wasn’t there to justify maybe a phone call home or perhaps 911 for an ambulance can’t be mentioned here. She was too damn fed up with the bull crap her body was putting her though to think too damn much.

Almost there….

“Holy, sh*t that hurts!” She stumbled, her arm reaching out for the handle to the doors leading outside. Home was just a push and a stagger away. The only thing keeping her from getting home now was the stupid pain, which felt like her insides were being torn apart and her brain was on overload.

She leaned on the door, heaving. She counted to ten, but then that number became twenty, then thirty, then for sure she’d go when she had reached seventy, but wait, did she miss a number? Gotta recount….

Her body was being racked with pain, and she couldn’t keep up with it. Her hands blindly grasped at her chest, trying to find the source of the pain, but then-

The door she was leaning on opened. She turned to keep her balance, she was falling, falling, falling-

Into the arms of none other than Kenny.

A look of shock crossed his face, and for a second the pain was forgotten. Then she saw it, where she couldn’t see it in the downward curve of the grimace surely gracing his features, she saw it in his eyes.

There was pain there.

And as she fainted she saw that it mirrored hers.
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Decided I was just gonna break up my original KxW comic idea into a series of related drabbles and pictures (b/c it would have been too much work for just me alone to do it, and then the story would never get told).