Returned - Kenny x Reader

Reverie

You looked down at the soul counter tattoo on your wrist. 1,387 souls reaped.

A long way to go.

You twirled your scythe in your fingers like a baton as you floated in the darkness. Everything was weightless in Realm, and the scythe was essentially your only plaything. If you were mortal, the solitude would certainly drive you to insanity, but in Realm, there was only peace in the void.

Like usual, you were suddenly summoned from Realm to a hospital. Just from the color of the walls, you already knew you were at Hells' Pass. You were here almost as often as the nurses and doctors... and you were a lot better at your job than they were.

"Hi, Kenny." You stood over the hospital bed and met the eyes of your most frequent customer.

"Hello again," Kenny rasped as he took his final breath and the heart monitor flatlined. From the look of his body, he had experienced some sort of severe blunt trauma.

"What did he say? Hello again?" A black-haired boy asked at the bedside. You didn't worry about it because they never remember anything when Kenny dies. His immortal soul alters the space-time continuum around him when he dies, so that it can meld back with perfect continuity once he returns.

"What was it this time?" you asked, pulling his soul through to the dimension.

"I don't wanna talk about it. It fucking hurt."

"Okay." You did your usual drift through the eternal dimension, and you were quickly back at the gates of Heaven. "Seems like it's your lucky day."

He laughed. "Too bad I never get to stay here for very long."

"Well, enjoy it while you can." You released your grip on his hand, but he tightened his. You looked down at your hands, and then back up at him. "What?"

"How did you die?" He asked you.

"I don't want to talk about it..." You paused before continuing. "But it fucking hurt, too."

He nodded. "Fair enough."

He released his grip on your hand and you were back in Realm, alone. Kenny was the only person you'd ever seen more than once since you died, and you honestly looked forward to seeing him each time. He was the only person that you could actually have a conversation with.

Before you could continue your daydreaming, you found yourself summoned again, and continued your work as a reaper. You were starting to enjoy the feeling of helping souls cross over, and were considering the choice to continue reaping after you reached 100,000 souls. You came to love the peace and calmness of Realm and existing after death. You were free from emotion here, and the constant feeling of serenity seemed as close to heaven as you could hope for.

Even though you never felt sad, you did experience nostalgia and a sense of longing for your family, home, and your old life. You often wondered what their lives looked like after you died. You winced every time you thought about who had to go identify your body, if it was ever even found.

Although you had no concept of time in Realm, you could tell when there were busy days and slow days based on how often you were called to reap. Weekends always brought death - drinking, drugs, car accidents, and violence all spiked on Friday and Saturday nights.

You were on your fifth back-to-back reaping after a drunk driving accident caused a pileup on the road into South Park. A black-haired man with a mustache and a blue towel draped over his shoulder was hassling the police on the scene, complaining that people who sucked at driving drunk were ruining it for everyone else.

Idiot.

You moved on with the reaping and returned to Realm to await your next summon, like usual. After a short break, you found yourself summoned to a dark alley. A broad-shouldered man in a dirty coat was standing over a crumpled body on the ground, obscured by darkness.

You drifted closer and touched the limp hand, a blood-soaked glove covering it.

"Kenny McCormick." You spoke as you pulled his soul from his battered body, surprised you didn't recognize his body under his dark hood. "What's with the outfi-"

"Hurry up." Kenny laced his fingers with yours and wrapped his other hand around the hilt of your scythe, waving it and forcing you to open the rift into the dimension of eternity.

"Alright, fine," you mumbled as he pulled you through the rift and into the void of eternity. "What's the rush?"

"I have to get back and catch that scumbag before he bails," Kenny explained through gritted teeth.

"Can I ask why?" you asked as the gates of heaven glowed in the distance.

"You ever heard of Mysterion?"

"No."

He looked a little offended. "South Park's vigilante hero?"

"I'm not from South Park."

"Go figure," he sighed, then continued. "South Park had a crime spike years ago. As violence and darkness took over the streets, I could no longer sit by and watch as my city became a cesspool of crime. I've lived in South Park all my life, and I decided it was up to me to keep this town safe. I work to rid the city of crime... I'm the symbol this town needs. Nobody at school knows my double life. To them, I'm just another high schooler, but on nights like tonight, I am Mysterion."

"That's the gayest shit I've ever heard," you replied flatly.

"Fuck you, dude!" he snapped defensively, but then his tone softened. "The city needs my help. It cries for protection, and I will answer the call to save her."

"Correction, that's the gayest shit I've ever heard."

He rolled his eyes and let out a sharp breath. "You wouldn't understand, you're not from South Park. You haven't seen what I've seen."

"Well, good luck out there, Batman," you said as you released his hand in front of the gates and disappeared back to Realm.

If Kenny was running around the streets picking fights with criminals, it was no wonder he was dying all the time.

At least he tries to do something good with his immortality.

You figured that he succeeded in his mission, because you weren't called back to reap him again.

Instead, you floated in Realm, relishing the peace and silence. You pulled down your hood and stared at your reflection in the mirrored surface of your scythe's blade, tracing the scars on your face from your brutal death. Your eyebrow had a slitted scar through it, along with your bottom lip. Your neck had a horizontal slit across it, and you winced as you traced the scars with your finger, shuddering from the memory of your killer tracing the knife along your jawline before delivering the final slice of the knife across your throat.

You twisted the scythe away, unable to look at your reflection any longer. You pulled your hood back up and sighed, resigning to float silently in Realm until your next summon.

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hoping to publish chapter 3 in the next few days ❤️‍🔥