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Speak To Me

Just a Mysterion one-shot I wrote. KennyxButters (sort of) and mentions of gore.

He was determined to make it; he just had to. His destination was not too terribly far off now, he just had to push himself a little further and a little harder. A thick maroon substance trailed after him, melting the snow as it hit it. A dark contrast against the white. He was freezing, shivering, and his hands were numb. He tried to maintain his sanity and keep himself alive but God it fucking hurt. He knew it wouldn’t be much longer. As he made his way over the snowy hill, he could make out the hazy orange-hued house. His dark purple cape billowed in the wind behind him, almost like wings in the night, but it set him off balance which caused him to stumble and collapse into the snow. He groaned out in pain as he tried to catch himself but he was just too weak. Blood pooled in the snow underneath him and dripped from his abdomen, which he tried to hold together with his left arm protectively. He took in a labored breath and held it in as he pushed himself off of the cold, wet ground and forced himself to stand up. His green gloves were soaked with a mixture of blood and snow. The smell of copper and iron was almost too much for him to stomach. His teeth chattered as nausea washed over him from the sharp, unrelenting pain he experienced. He vomited blood and whatever left over poptart he ate for supper earlier that night once he reached the siding of his close friend’s house. He wrinkled his nose from the smell but tried not to pay much attention to it. He already knew he didn’t have long. His knees shook from his own weight and tried to buckle out from underneath him so he held himself up on the side of the house. He was leaving smears of blood along the siding as he moved. He rounded the corner and looked up to the second story window and furrowed his brow. He could make it. Once he made it up there, he would be okay. Everything would be alright. He continued to walk against the side of the house until he came in contact with a familiar drainpipe for the gutters. This drainpipe led up which was just in reach with a tree branch that would take him straight to the window he needed. There was one thing Mysterion knew. He depended on this friend in some of his most dire times. This was the one of the worst of them so far. He looked around suspiciously then began ascending the pipeline. Tears stung the back of his eyes as the felt like his lower half was tearing away. Everywhere he could feel pin-needles pricking him. His blood had actually started to freeze before it had a chance to coagulate (not that it would have done him much good at this point). Mysterion slowly made his way up the pipe then dragged himself onto the tree branch. He rested there for a few seconds. His blood seeped onto the bark and dripped from the branch into the snow below. It could have almost looked like a murder scene. It basically was. He crawled across the tree branch to the window and prayed that it was unlocked. He hoped it was like all the other times. With the last bit of his energy, he slid the window open and collapsed onto the warm, carpeted bedroom floor. Mysterion let out a soft groan, still in the distant deep voice he always used for Mysterion to hide his persona, and closed his eyes.

“W-Whose there?!” Gasped a small, southern drawl. “Oh-oh hamburgers, M-Mysterion, are you alright?”

Mysterion heard the boy quickly crawl out of his bed and pad his way to meet him on the floor.

“G-Good golly, Mysterion. Why, yer gettin’ blood all over my floor and my parents are gonna be awful sore...” He began but when Mysterion didn’t move he realized how serious his condition was. “O-oh jeez. I’m gonna get grounded for sure...” He said softly as he stooped over to help get Mysterion off of the floor and dragged him into his bed.

“Sorry Butters.” Mysterion said softly in his rough voice. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth as he spoke. Mysterion kept a small smile.

“Awe, it’s alright Kenny.” Butters replied gently, trying to comfort Kenny. The worry was evident in his voice.

It grew quiet between the boys as Butters stuffed the wounded vigilante into his bed and rubbed his knuckles together. He wondered what he should do next. Mysterion forced his eyes open to look at Butters who stared at the mess that had suddenly become of his bedroom. A thick pool of blood sat in front of his window and trailed all the way up to his bed. He looked at his own pajamas and realized they as well as his hands were drenched. Butters’ eyes grew wide as he looked back at Mysterion. Mysterion’s stomach had been lacerated open. Butters was certain not all of that was blood but also organs too. Butters grimaced and felt a slight panic as his wide pale eyes met Mysterion’s blue ones. Mysterion let out a weak, gentle smile and tried to reach out and touch Butters’ hand. Butters noticed Mysterion’s bloody, cold green mitten.

“Just...speak to me Leo.” Mysterion begged. He’d stopped using his deep voice saved just for the Mysterion persona. It was his sweet, gentle voice of a 11 year old boy. His best friend Kenny.

“W-What should I say?” Butters panicked in his southern drawl. “I dunno what to say Ken. Ya look somethin’ awful.”

Mysterion smiled, almost chuckled, as best as he could manage.

“I’m alright. Just...just talk to me like you normally would.”

Butters rubbed his knuckles together fervently as he nodded reluctantly. Butters began talking about how their so-called friend Cartman was being mean to him again. About how the elementary school cafeteria food sucked now. About how Stan and Kyle got into another argument about something silly.

“Gosh darn ridiculous if ya ask me.”

Mysterion shut his eyes and felt the agonizing pain began to slip away as he listened to that sweet, southern accent. He felt a few tears slip from his blonde lashes. Mysterion realized he didn’t have the energy to tell Butters how much he depended on him and how much he actually appreciated him as a friend.

“Ken? Kenny?!” He heard his name far away.

Oh well. I guess there is always tomorrow.