#allthestripes

He didn’t feel as though he was in danger personally in this space, but there was something… slightly off-putting about the area he found himself in. It wasn’t dangerous to him, very little was honestly, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t to those around him. The others who attended his school, his friends, his family.

Tonight, however, the dream was different.

He could hear in the wind something that resembled an eerily whistling. He turned in place, and the scenery around him sprung into existence, something that had never happened before. He blinked rapidly, squinting against the powerful beams of sunlight that suddenly illuminated the area around him. Raising a hand to shade his eyes, he took in his surroundings for the first time.

He found himself high up on a hill, overlooking a valley. If he strained his eyes, Kenny could make out what appeared to be buildings off in the distance. Was it a town…? The wind blew past him again, and unease settled in his stomach. His tongue prodded at the gap between his front teeth, a nervous habit he had developed growing up. Along with giving him a slight lisp, it made him look younger than he really was, which was unfortunate as it took away from what little authority he managed to get.

For the first time he was able to look down at himself, inspecting his clothing. His usual worn-orange jacket was draped around him, but the ends of the sleeves and the bottom half of the jacket were missing, the fibers torn and shredded. It was unzipped, and white bandages criss-crossed his torso. With careful movements, he bent and flexed his muscles, trying to see if he could pin-point any feelings of pain, but there was nothing. Apart from just knowing something painful was coming, the dream didn’t seem like it was going to be anymore specific.

The pants encasing his legs were unfamiliar. They seemed to fit him well enough, but they were a nasty tan color that he would never in his life be caught dead in. Like his jacket, the legs were ripped up to his knees, and he saw his calves were also wrapped in gauze. His feet were bare, as they always were in the dream, but for the first time he was able to see them. He felt a strange sense of relief to see his feet weren’t all fucked up. That would have been a big problem.

Still picking at his teeth and listening to the wind, Kenny began his decent into the valley, unsure of what he would find. Would it be good, or bad? Exactly how much danger was he in? He assumed if the dream was allowing him to see so much more, whatever it wanted him to know what important.

As he make his way lower, carefully sliding over the scorched, brown earth, his mind wandered to contemplating why he had dreams like this. Was it in some way connected to the supernatural creatures he knew for a fact to be living in his home town? Was one of their unknown, potentially innumerable powers giving him these vision-like dreams? Or was it connected to his own incomplete humanity? Where the Elder Gods involved? Was Cthulhu going to show up again?

He pushed the thought aside quickly. It was unsettling to think about, but he had a feeling deep inside that it wasn’t anything to do with Cthulhu or the cults that existed for the Elder ones. No, this was something else, he just wasn’t sure what yet.

Getting to the bottom, he began the trek to the town he had seen. It didn’t take long, and soon, the buildings loomed above him. He was confused to find what appeared to be a wild west style town, the buildings lined up on either side of dirt road that cut through the center. A large sign was off to the side, but no matter how hard Kenny tried, he couldn’t make out the words written across it. This place was familiar to him, but without knowing the name, he couldn’t place it.

Moving on, he inspected the buildings he passed, the hairs on the back of his neck sticking up straight. The place was in ruins, the shops and homes he passed either in pieces or well on the way there. Something skittered through the rubble, and he whipped around to face the noise, but found nothing.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Kenny took a few steps towards the sounds origin. Every fiber of his being screamed at him not to, that this was a terrible, terrible idea that would only end badly. But still he pressed on.

’God… I don’t pray to you very often, and I don’t even know if praying in a dream counts, but if you could help me though this, I would really appreciate it. I die enough when I’m awake, I don’t really want that part of my life to cross over to there too. I need someplace to have some respite, you feel?’ he thought, wringing his hands together nervously in front of himself.

Shaking himself slightly, he pressed his lips together hard to keep any noise from escaping. He forced himself to relax, trying to tell himself that, as a lucid dream, he could control everything that happened. Nothing was going to hurt him. That’s how it always happened in movies.

Then again, when had anything ever gone that smoothly for him?

He was ripped from his thoughts by a booming crash. Snapping his attention to the building on his left, his eyes widened as a giant, black creature rose up from the ruins of what looked like an old bar. The thing had no solid shape that Kenny could pick out, appearing as a constantly shifting mass. The only thing on it Kenny could see were two, piercing red eyes set deep in the inky blackness.

His mouth opened in a silent scream as the monster reached for him. He was frozen in place, and the thing’s hand wrapped around him and began to squeeze. Pain tore through Kenny’s body, and he struggled against the grasp, but could do nothing. He heard a loud crack, then the scene around him him shifted.

He was dropped to the ground, banging his knees hard against the solid surface under him. He gasped and panted, his hands flying up and pressing over his ribs, feeling for the break he knew was there, though he felt nothing. Trembling, he pushed himself onto his feet, taking in his new surroundings. This place was familiar as well, but this time Kenny knew where he was.

Before him, was a massive, golden gateway, surrounded by a group. Kenny knew who they were, but the distance between him and them let him see only moving lights as the Saints scurried about.

Kenny peered over his shoulder, finding he was surrounded by nothing but darkness. Even the ground under him had no appearance, as did the sky above him. Clearing his throat, he began to move towards the gate, confused. Had he… had he just died? In a dream? Was that even possible? He thought a person always woke up before dying. Fear settled over him like a shroud, turning his very bones to ice.

As he neared the light of Heaven’s gate, he glanced down at himself, wondering if he had any marks left from the encounter. He paused when he noticed his pants again, his lips twitching up into a smile as he recalled his earlier thought of them. Looks like he had been wrong. A loud bang drew his attention back up, and he blinked in surprise.

The Saints had shut the doors and locked them, baring him from entrance. He put out a hand, grabbing the bar in front of him and staring through the gate at the Saints.

“Really, Peter?” he asked. Receiving no response, Kenny sighed and let his hand drop. There was no point in staying. They wouldn’t allow him to enter.

Turning around, the blackness he had walked away from exploded into fire, the path to Hell opening before him. Letting out a heavy sigh, he walked forward, hissing in discomfort at the flames that licked at his skin. As he traveled downward, his thoughts drifted back to his crush. He couldn’t say why, or how thinking of him helped at all in this situation, but he supposed he wanted his final thoughts to be of him.

The next thing Kenny knew, he was wide awake, safe in his bed. He shot up, feeling across his body for any injuries. He had never died in a dream before, and didn’t know if it had a different affect from dying while awake. From what he could tell, he was fine. In fact, it seemed his dream-death hadn’t translated to his real body at all, as he was still in his pajama bottoms and not his parka, which was still on it’s hook on the back of the door to his room.

Great, was he going to have to keep separate tallies now? Real death vs Dream death. Kenny knew death better than anything, and that had definitely been a real one. The gates were proof of that; he’d never gone there without being killed.

Which meant there was a monster in his dreams capable of ending him.

He jumped out of bed, shaking himself to get rid of the thoughts. No point in thinking about it now, this would have to be a problem he dealt with later. He tugged on his clothes and ran out of the house. He needed to get the events of last night out of his head and he knew the best way to do it: annoying the piss out of his friends.

Running a hand throw his hair, Kenny crossed the train tracks, heading towards Stan’s house. The other boy was usually there, and Kyle was almost always with him. He had his own suspicions about Stan in regards to the odd goings on in the town, but it didn’t change the fact they had been friends for their entire lives.

He nodded on the Marsh’s door, and smile when it opened after only a few seconds, Stan grinning at him from the other side. Not for the first time, Kenny noted his sharper than normal teeth, but ignored it.

“Hey, dude,” he greeted, stepping into the house as Stan moved back to allow him in. “What’s happening? Kyle here?”

“Yeah, he’s in the kitchen,” Stan said, nodding back towards the doorway behind him as he shut the door. “What bring you here?”

“Just woke up and wanted to see my friends is all. Why, can’t a guy just want to hang out?”

“Nah, you can, it’s just not usually why you do come around. Besides that, you look a little out of it. You sure you’re alright?” Stan tone shifted to one of concern, and Kenny felt glad to know he had people in his life who could detect his bullshit.

“I just had a crazy dream,” he admitted, spotting Kyle exit the kitchen and head toward’s them, a glass of water in hand. They nodded hello as Stan’s eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Do you want to tell us about it?” he asked, and Kenny shrugged. There couldn’t be any harm in it, and maybe they would have some insight. Even if they didn’t know about his inability to die, they could probably help him problem solve. The dream was getting bigger, and that, he had decided, was not a good sign. Besides, Kyle was smart, and it was likely he’d have some notion of what the dream could mean.

The three sat down on the couch, Kenny in the center. He explained to them the vision he saw almost every night, and the massive change that he had witnessed the night before. He hesitated a moment before telling them he’d been killed in his sleep, expecting them to just tell him that was impossible. He was surprised when neither said this, but patted his back comfortingly.

“Man, I’m sorry you’re going through this,” Stan said. “That’s pretty fucked up right there.”

“Thanks,” he sighed. “Do you guys have any idea what it means? What do you think it’s trying to tell me?”

Kyle looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully, humming softly. “Maybe it’s trying to get you to do something?” he suggested. “Maybe something you’re doing or not doing is messing you up. I don’t know what to say about you dying in a dream though, I didn’t think that could happen.”

“Crazy stuff, dude,” Kenny agreed with a shrug. “Thanks for letting me talk this out with you guys though.”

“Sure thing, Ken, we’re always here to listen if you need us,” Stan assured with a smile. They three talked a while longer, then Kenny stood and headed for the door, Stan and Kyle following after him to continue the heated discussion they had ended up on.

“With everything that’s going on in our country now, I don’t know,” Stan said as they traipsed outside. “Everything seems like it’s going wrong and only bad things can come from this. I just can’t trust it anymore.”

“It’s called ‘disaffection’,” Kyle explained. “It’s when you don’t like who’s in charge and refuse to support the stuff they do.”

“Why do you always know stuff like that?” Kenny laughed, heading down to the sidewalk. While they hadn’t helped clear up the mystery of his dream, it had been nice to just hang out and talk. He had forgotten that just saying something was wrong could be a huge relief.

Stan and Kyle had stopped on the steps in front of the Marsh house. They turned to face him, and Kenny saw their eyes widen, watched their mouths move. He knew they screamed his name, but his hearing didn’t seem to be working. He felt something hit him before behind. It was hard, and happened so fast, it took a long time for him to register what had happened.

The world blurred in front of him as he was launched down the cement path, bouncing across the pavement. When he finally came to a stop, he was a mangled mess, barely conscious, three houses away from where he had started. He had been hit by cars before, but it had been a while.

He was vaguely aware of Stan and Kyle crouching beside him, talking rapidly. He couldn’t hear them, nor could his eyes focus on their forms. The world was at an angle, tilted up. He couldn’t move at all, and forcing himself to pay attention and do a mental checklist, he came to the conclusion that he was for sure going to die. His spine was broken for sure, which meant he was currently paralyzed. That explained the not moving, thought he wagered most of his bones were shattered. He could feel something warm gushing over his cheeks from his forehead, and guessed he had likely gotten pretty cut up.

Well, whatever. At least for once he wasn’t in pain.

He became aware then of someone’s hand on his face. His eyes slid to the side, trying to figure out the owner. All he could see was red, so Kenny concluded it was either Kyle, or he’d gotten blood in his eyes. Honestly, either had a good chance of being correct.

He let his eyes close then, feeling exhaustion taking over.

Meanwhile, Stan and Kyle were panicking. Sure, Kenny didn’t know they knew he was immortal, but that didn’t make every one of his deaths just as hard to handle. Especially when it happened to violently and unexpectedly. They were knelt on either side of him, Kyle patting his bloody face and talking to him as Stan called for an ambulance. The car that had hit him had driven away, and anger boiled inside of Stan at the thought of the culprit getting away.

In the distance, they heard sirens, and knew help was coming. One look at their friend and they understood the hopelessness of it all, but they didn’t care. He was their friend, and they would do what they could.

Kenny’s eyes opened, and he was surprised to find himself back in the dream. The ruined town sprawled below him, and the sun warmed his face. Unsure what to think, he made his way back down, being careful to watch his step. Even in a dream, it wasn’t fun to fall down off a cliff side.

As he approached the first dilapidated buildings, he heard the whistling in the wind once more. Stepping through the entrance, Kenny froze as his surroundings shifted. No longer was he exploring some random place in the middle of nowhere. Now, he was standing on the main road of his home town. Whipping around to look at the sign behind him, Kenny saw, in plain letters, the name. South Park.

Gulping nervously, he continued on. The town was still in ruins, but it seemed recent, as though something had only just finished leveling the place. In some areas, fires burned, and occasionally, he heard a crash as chunks of building gave way.

As he moved, he watched the ruins age. Rust began to form over the exposed metal, and nature began to grow over some of the rubble. Why was all this new shit beginning to happen? What the hell?

He heard rustling from the shops to his left, and jumped away, not eager for a repeat of the day before. The last thing he expected to see was the form of Craig Tucker pulling himself out of a pile of wreckage. Kenny stood frozen in place, his mind racing. Why was Craig here? How did this happen? Was he real? Unlikely, but what the fuck? However, every thought was shoved from his mind as Craig spoke.

“Kenny… help me…”

Without waiting a second longer, Kenny sprinted to his side, grabbed his hand, and tugged him down the street, running as fast as he could. Behind them, he heard a familiar roar, and knew the monster from before would soon be after them.

Dragging Craig behind him, Kenny ran for the forest on the outskirts of the town. It would be easier to escape from the monster there, and the trees could provide cover. Willing them to go faster, Kenny dashed for all he was worth into the relative safety of the trees. Mere seconds after they entered the woods, the roar behind them sounded again, and the earth shook as the black mass of something hit the tree line, unable to follow thanks to it’s enormous size.

The pair didn’t stop running until they hit the stream than ran by the small town. They paused their frantic pace, gasping for air.

“Craig, what are you doing here?” Kenny asked between breaths. Was he really here? How did he get here?

“I’m just fucking hanging out, clearly,” Craig snapped, frowning at him as he straightened. “What do you think I’m doing, McCormick? I’m trying to find-” Whatever he was going to say was cut off as all around them came the sound of laughter.

The pair jumped closer to one another as, from the shadows, gleamed the pointed smiles of what Kenny knew instinctively to be vampires.

“Fuck,” Kenny spat. “We’re in a goddamn vampire city, aren’t we?” The giggles grew louder as the sound of footsteps began to approach them. Beside him, he heard the cocking of a gun, and his eyes widened as he turned to see Craig removing a gun from the depths of his jacket.

“What the fuck? Are you a gunslinger or something?” he asked, momentarily stunned.

Craig glared at him. “Yeah, Kenny, you dumb shit.” Regardless of the annoyance in the tone and the accompanying insult, Kenny’s heart fluttered when Craig said his name. That didn’t happen often, it was usually just ‘McCormick’. His next words were even more surprising. “You are too, so if you don’t want to die, get your damn guns out and help me.”

Reaching into his shredded jacket, he found Craig had been correct; dual pistols sitting snugly in wait for him. Pulling them out, he was amazed by the how natural they felt in his hands. Craig bumped up against him, his back flush against Kenny’s.

“I don’t plan on dying here, Ken,” he murmured. “So maybe help out here.”

There was no doubt in Kenny’s mind now that this was a dream, that this Craig wasn’t real, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t say no, and maybe the coming battle would give him some clue as to who the actual mysterious vampire in South Park was.

As the vampires began to emerge from the trees, Kenny aimed his guns out in front of him.

“Do you trust me, Craig?”

The answer was immediate.

“Yes.”

A grin formed on his face as he lined up a shot.

“Let’s do this.”