Chapter Text
Kyle barely even touches the door as it slowly opens, seemingly on its own. Leaving the boy with a somewhat bewildered expression as his hand is left hovering in the air. Cold air rushes into the abandoned cabin, its structure creaking as the wind howls with the downpour. Thunder flashes, and it briefly lights up his surroundings with a faded lilac color.
His eyes fill with uncertainty, studying the wreckage inside the room. The place hasn’t been used in some time, definitely years, judging by its condition. It’s empty, and there’s dust translucently floating around, spiraling. Broken wooden boards and broken glass lie scattered around the floor. The shattered window must be recent if the torn orange fabric dangling from what remains intact is anything to go by. And the trail of blood…is Kenny still alive? Dammit, he wishes he succeeded in calming him down, but then that random asshole had to show up and shoot him and fuck everything up. Not that Kyle’s own reaction to seeing Kenny change helped. He admits it did scare him when Kenny changed into…that. You don’t expect a friend you’ve known most of your life to suddenly turn into some squid monster. He didn’t mean to freak out so bad at it. Kenny seemed helpless, and…he didn’t mean to slice into Kyle’s cheek. Shit, he probably thinks that he saw him as a monster, with Kenny begging him for help and looking so alone.
God, at least it was just him who saw his transformation. If he were in public or any of the adults saw that, well, Kenny would probably be pretty dead.
Rethinking about it, it’s better that Kenny ran away before things could get worse. Hopefully, he didn’t run into anyone else before they could find him.
He better be here; because Kyle doesn’t know how much longer Kenny can survive bleeding out, even as that thing.
Stan nudges the weak door open; even with the gentlest touch, it instantly falls off its hinges, and a cloud of dust envelops him. He coughs harshly as he shields his eyes with one arm, the other swinging as he attempts to fan the dust away from him. With how crappy this cabin is, he can’t imagine how Kenny can even survive out here all on his own. The state of the place is, well, rundown sounds like an understatement. With the bloodstains and torn up walls, it looks like a wild animal moved in here.
It’s miles from town, it took them like, what two or three hours to end up here? Maybe even longer than that. No wonder anyone hasn’t found him yet if he’s this far out in the woods. What was Kenny even planning to do after running away? Kyle said Kenny just “ran straight into the woods” after…whatever happened to him. Kyle's answer is confusing honestly; he doubts Kyle understood what he actually saw because Stan himself sure can't even make sense of what Kyle told him. He still can't get that image of Kyle's expression when describing what happened and, Jesus, that cut on his face. Kyle looked shaken by the experience; Christ, with Kyle's story and how bad this looks, Kenny better be alright. He hadn't seen him in a while, and the last person who was with him was Kyle. So what exactly did Kyle see?
…What the hell is happening to Kenny lately?
A powerful sounding slam muffles their surroundings, shaking the rotten old cabin’s structure. Completely caught off guard, Stan jumps, letting out a frightened cry, with Kyle whirling around, wide-eyed in alert.
“Shit dude, what was that?” Stan keeps his voice low; he has to be careful if something unfriendly happens to be the cause.
Kyle peers outside the doorway; his jaw hangs open as he hesitates.
“Kenny, is that you?”
The two wait, but there’s only the sound of the rain leaking through the ceiling.
“Probably…Probably something fell over.” Stan keeps his nerves.
“It could have been him. It could be an animal that’s trying to hide from the storm, or just this place falling apart.”
“Don’t say that, the last thing we need is this place collapsing on us!” There’s panic in Stan’s tone.
“Yeah good point, hopefully it’s not all coming down at once.”
Another loud thump echoes through the ruins. Then, faintly far down the hall, the boys can pick up a rhythmic tapping pattern, and it’s moving.
“Ok there’s definitely something in here with us.” states Kyle.
The unknown source shuffles in the distance.
“Kenny?” Stan cries out.
Kyle stares at Stan, thinking. Then, finally, he turns his gaze to the hallway with a single raised brow and gives a puzzled look at Stan.
“Wouldn’t he had said something? He should have heard us.” Stan sounds hurt.
“He’s…he’s scared Stan.”
“Yeah, but he knows us. There’s no reason for him not to respond.”
“He ran away because he was afraid of hurting us, Stan. What if he still wants us to stay away?”
Kyle thinks to himself, his eyes scan the floor.
“Would you leave him here if he does?” Stan asks softly
“I didn’t come all the way out here for him to push me away. Why, would you?”
“Hell no. But you think he would at least say something for coming out this far for him. You saw him get shot! Shouldn’t that least tell him we don’t want him to suffer alone like that? We don’t want him to die… ” his voice wavers.
Kyle’s eyes return to the darkness of the hallway. Stan has a point, Kenny was utterly terrified when he started to morph and did everything to push Kyle away. He’s been missing for hours, and the only clue they have of finding him is far from South Park. And yet, even if he’s badly frightened by what occurred, Kenny should know better than just staying hidden after the shit Kyle saw. Heck, that should be a sign that Kyle still sees him as a friend even after all that. There’s only three possible way this can go from here. Either one: he's not here. He's just passed through, and they've been wasting their time. Two, he is still here but refuses to answer. Or three…he’s dead. That’s the conclusion he doesn’t want to face. Fuck, he can deal with the first two, but he hopes it doesn’t end up like the former.
“Goddammit Kenny…” he mutters.
With increasing worry, his breathing becomes anxious.
“Kenny?” There’s unease in Kyle’s tone.
They wait for an answer, but there’s only the sound of the pouring rain.
“Kenny, it’s me Stan! Kyle told me what happened! Is that you?” Stan is trembling, holding his breath as he gazes into the unknown.
They wait for any response, any other sound other than the storm itself. Stan swallows; anything could be waiting for them in the woods. And most of those things can kill them easily.
“What if it is something else?” Stan asks quietly.
Kyle glances at Stan with uncertainty. He turns back, shouting
“Kenny we just want to help! Please, I know you’re scared. But you were seriously hurt when you ran off!”
There’s a thump; something scrapes across the floor in the distance. The boys exchange looks of wonder.
The floor creaks as something shuffles close by.
“Dude, at least tell us if you’re still alive!” Stan cries out in desperation. God Kenny, he has to see him again. After hearing all that shit he went through, knowing he’s frightened, alone, and bleeding from a gunshot wound, Stan just wants to know if he’s still breathing. With all the weird shit that’s been going on this week, he just has to see him.
Stan, frantic to know the well-being of his lost friend, blindly lurches forward.
“Kenny!”
Stan stumbles backward with his expression changing to terror as an awful sound reaches the boys’ ears.
What answered back is not really something anyone looking for a lost friend would want to hear. They might expect a “hey” or a “go away.” A horrific pained scream along with a booming crash and what sounds like tearing, however, definitely wasn’t it.
It’s not a voice they recognize, not even close to what Kenny sounds like. Because it’s not the voice of a child but a full-grown man.
Kyle’s wide eyes land on Stan’s; trembling, Kyle manages to stutter
“I-I don’t think that was him.”
Vibrations travel through the floor as it reacts to each creak. Those being the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching them. Whatever is heading in the boys' direction is taking their sweet time as they trudge through the dark hall. Bumping into the walls, during what they assume by the brief pattering, spurts of speed.
Both boys hold their breath as the figure wordlessly makes its way. They’re unsure whether they should speak up. The fact that it has been eerily silent since the screaming certainly doesn’t mean anything good.
“I-is someone there?”
A hoarse moan answers Stan, its breathing sounding pained. There’s faint choking as the unknown figure seems to struggle to form words.
“Kenny?”
The figure only gives Kyle a harsh, throaty wheeze. Then, as the sound steadily grows in volume with each step, a tall silhouette steadily forms. They can barely make out the lumbering figure in this darkness, though it appears to be human so far based on the shape.
Neither knows if they should run or not. Quite frankly, they’re at a loss on what to do next.
Kyle turns his attention to Stan, giving him a puzzled look, silently asking if Stan has any suggestions. Stan raises an eyebrow and shakes his head as he holds outs his hands, shrugging.
“H-hello? Hey uh, are you ok?” Stan honestly has no idea where he’s going with this, but it's best they don’t know about Kenny. “We uh-kinda got lost and we thought we hang out here till the storm clears. You good with that?”
The figure sways, staggering forward in disorientation. A drawn-out groan escapes the mysterious figure as they sound to be in total agony.
“Agh…oh God!” they gargle, choking and trying to swallow. Then, something hits the floor with a splat, followed by wet dripping onto the floor.
‘Huh, it wasn’t leaking here before.’ Kyle muses.
Kyle takes a step back before asking timidly
“A-are you hurt?”
No response.
Kyle frown.
“It’s too dark to see anything now. Can you make anything out?” Kyle grumbles, scowling in frustration.
“No dude. I can’t see a thing.”
The boys back away slowly.
“Oh shit, Kyle don’t tell me that’s Kenny.”
“I don’t think it is.”
“You think?” panic forms in Stan’s tone.
“I don’t know everything!”
Kyle keeps his sights on the wobbling shadow.
“Flashlight, I need the flashlight.” Kyle stutters.
“Well get it out dude!”
“You had it last!” Kyle whispers.
Stan blinks; his gaze goes to the figure, then to Kyle. Then, wordlessly as he faces the figure again, he removes his backpack. He fumbles, unzipping it, and hastily digs through it.
“Hurry up!”
“I’m trying!”
With the approaching stranger, the pressure builds on Stan, his heart races as he feels around for the flashlight. Finally, in his grasp, he tosses the flashlight to Kyle.
“H-here.”
Kyle rather clumsily catches the flash, fidgeting with it as he turns it on.
“Dude, are you-”
Worry turns to terror, and a shudder overrides Kyle’s body. With the light illuminating the hall, he discovers the figure standing within inches away from his face and is met with a sloppy crimson mass.
His chest tightens with a scream forcing its way out but becomes nothing more than a burning lump in his throat. His voice turns hoarse as he chokes, coming out as a squeak. Stan slips away from his side, crying out, “Oh God!” as he throws his back to the wall and lets out a panicked scream, shuddering.
Falling on his rear, Kyle crawls back away from what appears to be left of the man. The robbed figure trembles with a single outstretched arm.
Kyle cannot take his eyes off the man’s grotesque face. It isn’t just disfigured; it’s falling off. It’s dripping, melting. Layers of liquefied skin sloughing off, tinted with red as remains dribble to the floor messily. One eye had slid out of its socket, deflating while running down his half skeletal face in a mix of white and red sludge. A horrible combination of gore, mucus, and other fluids flow down as the being convulses, gargling on their dissolving features as they stream down his throat. The man regurgitates a bloody accumulation of flesh as he gives out a wheeze.
“Help me, oh God help me!”
Their voice is heavily distorted as the throat starts to give away. The figure suffocates, choking on his liquid flesh. Hacking up his tongue as he helplessly gasps for air.
“Oh god, oh Jesus oh god!” Stan screams.
Stan’s stomach burns as he vomits a little in his mouth, he has seen some fucked up shit before, but this currently tops the others. The repulsive sight is more than he can stomach; the poor bastard is still alive as his face dissolves into goop. Stan clutches his abdomen, feeling nausea hijacking his senses. He cringes as the other eye pops, dangling from its socket. Not only is it hard to watch, but it also smells absolutely foul.
Kyle scrambles backward away from the wriggling figure as it lurches forward, falling on top of him. The figure crawls towards him, reaching to him as he attempts to grab the boy in a futile attempt for help. Kyle backs away using only his hands and legs.
“Don’t touch me, get the hell off!”
In his panic, Kyle kicks across the man’s lower jaw, and as if made of clay and its structure weakened, it detaches from his skull. Tearing free and dropping to the floor in a pile of gore.
“Holy shit!”
In a zombie-like fashion, the man moans in a low tone. Kyle is paralyzed by fear as his gaze stays on the figure's half-exposed skull.
He should run; he really should be getting the hell out of here. But, instead, with his heart pounding in his chest, he finds himself unable to get on his feet.
Fuck, why can’t I get up?
There’s a tug at Kyle’s arm, and he’s torn from the melting man’s reach.
“Kyle let’s go!”
His vision blurs and readjusts, with Stan pulling at his arm as the two flee from the morbid scene.
Kyle can still hear that hoarse screaming echo behind him.
“Kyle, Kyle you ok?” Stan rubs Kyle’s back, swallowing as he tries to keep his own stomach settled.
“I don’t know…I’m not going to sleep tonight, that’s for sure.” Kyle heaves, doubling over. Then, popping his head up, he scans to see where they had stopped.
For one, they're not in the hall anymore. Instead, it's a much larger room, probably a living room or a guest room. He can't tell; this cabin might as well be a goddamn mansion with how large it is.
“Who was that?” Stan asks.
“I’ve never seen them before…what happened to that guy? His face was falling off!” Kyle stutters.
“Look, I don’t want to know what caused that to happen to him.” Stan wheezes, “I feel like I’m gonna vomit.”
“Don’t do it on me.”
“Hey, d-did you notice that gu-” as Stan stumbles back, something squelches underneath his foot.
“Aw fuck, I stepped in something.”
“Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than a guy melting alive.”
“You're not really helping my stomach right now.” Stan mumbles, clenching his teeth. He takes several deep breaths as Kyle observes with a raised brow.
“Y-You good?” Kyle asks.
A slight belch escapes Stan as he swallows, struggling.
“I…I think…I think I'm good.” his expression quickly changes to distress as he doubles over, coughing roughly. “No I'm not-”
It's clear that Stan could only fight off his nausea for so long, the horrid sight and the awful smell. It's all too much. He shakily kneels down as he clutches his stomach and vomits.
Kyle instinctively jerks away. He understands why Stan would; he sympathizes. After all, seeing something like that would freak out anyone. However, this doesn't make Stan's reaction any less repulsive.
“Aw sick!”
Stan hacks violently. Coughing and gasping for air as drool runs down his mouth.
“Gah…ack…” Stan sputters, wiping his mouth across his arm. “I’m-I’m good.” He reassures sheepishly.
He shakes his head and stands on wobbling legs, his eyes returning to Kyle's.
“I’m-I’m good.” He reassures sheepishly.
Kyle sighs and closes his eyes. He turns his head as he peers over his shoulder.
“A-anyway, you…did you notice the guy’s clothes were kinda weird looking.”
Kyle stares at Stan blankly, somewhat dumbfounded.
“His. Face. Was. Melting.”
“I know! Just…his clothes were weird for a guy this far out in the woods, and hanging out in this shitty place.”
Kyle turns to him, having caught his attention.
“He was wearing some weird-ass clothes though, he looked like a wizard or some kinda cult member. Maybe he was some D&D nerd…”
Kyle’s eyes widen.
“Wait a cult? …Oh no.”
“What?”
“Remember those Cthulhu cultists?”
“What about…” Stan’s eyes widen in understanding Kyle’s question. “Ah fuck, do they have something to do with this?”
“I think that guy was looking for him.” Kyle pants.
“For who?” Stan asks in a distressed voice.
“Kenny.”
Stan’s shoulders slump as he groans.
“What do these guys want with him?”
“Wish I knew.” Kyle grumbles.
A loud crash from some distance ahead interrupts them, and the two silently turn their heads in the direction of the source. There’s the sound of scraping right next to them.
“Now what?” Stan moans.
The walls rattle as there's a crash and a high pitch screech reaches their ears.
Kyle squeezes Stan’s arm, with Stan eyeing him with worry.
“Y-you wanna move to a safer room?” Kyle whispers softly, with uncertainty in his eyes.
“Totally.”
Stan turns to bolt, but for some reason, Kyle hesitates. In fact, he looks irritated.
“What is it?” Stan whispers.
“I… shit, I left the flashlight back there.” Panic flashes across Kyle’s eyes.
“What, no. I got it dude. I grabbed it before we ran out of there. Hold on.”
Pulling it out of his backpack, when Stan flicks the light on, Kyle winces back, staring at the ground. Stan feels a chill travel through him, his body turning stiff as a red color, and a handful of small furry bodies are revealed in the light. Stan’s grip tightens around the flashlight as his eyes go down to his feet.
The floor is smeared in blood, littered with the corpses of mangled rats. One which Stan had stepped on, much to his horror.
He recoils with a startled cry, kicking its body away.
“What the hell is happening in this place?” yells Kyle.
Stan attempts to reply, but his attention locks on to a pattern of shapes. Among the stained floor lies a bloody trail of several large footprints. And it leads down to the hall from where they entered.
Oh shit.
“Kyle, I think I get what happened to that guy. That thing out there…that thing melted his face. And it attacked him here. We’re in its fucking den!”
Kyle approaches the prints, silently warily studying them. Stan is correct; with the blood still moist, this definitely happened recently. It's even going down the same hall they encountered the man earlier. And that scream before it, the carnage had unfolded a few minutes ago, and they just walked right into it!
They got to get out of here now, from what he can tell from the noise, that thing is heading right back here!
With the bit of time they have and the fear becoming apparent in Kyle's expression, he approaches Stan with urgency, swinging his head and…
Huh?
He isn't sure if he's seeing things or if it's just a trick of the flashlight because Stan is wildly swinging it around. But there seems to be a much smaller footprint in the mess. He approaches it, studying it.
“Stan, look at this.”
Stan faces Kyle with curiosity, seeing the other boy gesturing him to a patch of stains.
“What is it?”
“These footprints are smaller than the others.”
Indeed it is much smaller. Not only that, but there's a trail as well, going in the opposite way. In the exact direction where the crashing is coming from.
Stan looks at Kyle questionably. And with a serious expression, Kyle places his foot next to the smaller prints.
The smaller footprints being exactly around the boys’ size.
The lights shaking in Stan’s trembling hand, it’s becoming apparent what happened here but…Stan refuses to believe it. Fuck no way, no way he did this…!
“That can’t be Kenny, can it?” Stan’s voice shakes.
Kyle only gives him a somber look.
Stan is taken aback, blinking.
“No, no way. Are you saying he did this?”
Kyle turns away quietly, unable to find a way to answer him.
The boys jolt as weight slams against the walls. The room visibly shakes as small derbies and dust rain down upon them. Stan and Kyle huddle side by side as the scraping in the distance picks up in speed. The weak floors of the cabin creak as the unknown inhabitant darts within the building. Scratching and clawing against the aged wood. The howling wind and icy rain only add to the boys’ unease of what waits in the darkness beyond. With the raging storm and the threat of lightning, the boys are pretty much trapped with what lurks inside. The sounds seem to come from every direction; it's circling them. Another slam hits the walls, and the two boys can clearly hear it splinter. Strangely, after each crash, small pattering across the floor follows. And the pattering seems to “multiply” as new pattering sounds came from other locations.
Stan whirls around, swinging his flashlight in every direction whenever he hears a sound.
It's either stealthy or fast as hell, or it's in the walls. Actually, it sounds like there's more than one person out there. Or thing or animal, it could be anything at this rate. Unfortunately, there's not much they can use as weapons here, so they can only brace themselves or grab what they can. And the pattering is getting louder. Finally, he stops flailing as tiny reflective specks of light emerge from the other hall.
Crap, those are glowing eyes, aren't they? And there's a shit load of them heading towards them. He can't make them out clearly in the low light, but it appears to be a clumped together mass. Or it could be some freaky creature with a lot of eyes; who knows?
Just what is that?
Aiming the light at the clump, a swarm of rats emerges from the darkness. Running between their legs and over their shoes as they flee past the boys. The two shuffle around the rats and kick the ones crawling off their legs in a panic.
“G-Get off!” Kyle yells, shaking one off.
Stan curses as he brushes off the rats.
“Geeze, why is there so many?”
The rats are scurrying everywhere, shoving themselves in the nearest holes and crawlspaces in a frenzy as they squeak loudly. They don't seem to care for the boys’ presence. It's kind of bizarre as the rats don't even try to avoid the kids.
The rats pile on top of one another, shoving and fighting each other as they stuff themselves in overcrowded holes. Not even reacting to the various gory remains of the rat corpses littered everywhere. None retreat down the hall in which they entered from. They don't even dare to go near that direction. It's like these rats are desperate to get the hell away from what's approaching.
…That's precisely it.
They’re terrified, they’re terrified of what’s ramming into the walls, the exact same creature that left a pile of dead rats, and the same creature that melted a man’s face off.
He and Kyle have really no idea what they're up against, do they?
And then something, much larger than the rats, just barely darts out of the light.
“Jesus Christ, what is that?” Stan cries.
It was a brief glimpse, but he saw something in the form of a blur out of the corner of his eye. It sort of looked human in shape.
“Kyle?”
“I couldn’t make it out!”
Stan swings his flashlight around, trying to locate the creature crawling in the shadows.
Rats squeal, scattering as the figure roams the area. Bouncing off the walls, even crawling up them as they try to escape the thing.
Oh, Jesus, oh Jesus, this thing really is bad news, fuck they should have brought stuff to defend themselves with. This thing is going to fucking kill them!
There’s a shriek as a wet, sickening crunch reaches their ears, fluid splatters to the floor somewhere in the dark, loudly. The screeching of rats intensifies as the unfortunate one’s bones snap like twigs.
Stan feels Kyle lean against him in unease.
The creature is slaughtering those rats one by one, and the screeching is stressing the hell out of Stan. He can't hold the flashlight still as his body uncontrollably shivers, and with the creature speeding around the room, it's difficult to keep track of the thing. It's not even fast, but it must be stealthy because goddamn, it's doing an excellent job of avoiding the light.
The creature slams into a wall as another rat squeaks in agony.
“Stan, there!” Kyle doesn't hesitate to locate the creature.
Stan swings the flashlight around, with the light finally landing on a hunched over figure…and…and…What the fuck.
‘No fucking way, no no no!’
The figure recoils with a fierce look in his glistening eyes as it seems to growl at them with a twisted face.
His mouth agape, Stan's heart sinks at the discovery, stepping back from the figure. The shock of seeing it leaving him numb, Stan's face twists in a mix of confusion and disbelief. Questions fill his head, and part of him wants to deny that what's standing in front of them isn't real; he refuses to believe it. But it's real alright. There has to be a misunderstanding or twist. Just no way he did all those horrible things. He glances at Kyle, who is just as horrified. He's just as hurt, just as confused. And he knew about this…just not to this extent from what Stan assumes.
The figure is roughly around the boys' size, hunched over in a bestial manner. Half of its face, just on the left side, has tentacles curled over its mouth. Blood seeps through them as it clings to an indiscernible object. It's half-formed as its human traits clash with its more monstrous ones. The skin melds with a brown, scale-like texture. Its right arm is entirely demonic in appearance, with its hand having thick, dagger like-claws that sink into the weak floor. Its left eye glowing an intense blue as it glares at the two. As for everything else? Still human.
And it’s wearing an orange parka.
“Oh fuck…Kenny?!”