Chapter Text
He was ten when he found out what he was.
Kyle had grown up never asking questions, because he trusted his parents. He never questioned the pills they gave him every night before bed, the way they insisted that he needed them for survival. He'd been told his whole life that he was terribly anemic, and that if he missed even a single day, he could risk hurting himself. He never questioned why his mother also took the pills before she ushered him off to school, assuming it was just their genetics. That must be why his father and little brother never needed to take them. They were looking out for him, and that was that.
He came home one day to find his mother slumped over at the kitchen table, nursing a wine glass and looking pale. She never drank wine, and the liquid in the glass looked too opaque. Too dark and thick. Something was wrong, and when he went to ask her about, it, she gestured for him to sit. She explained everything to him, everything she'd planned to keep hidden from him until he was old enough.
They came from a long line of ancient beings, not human but not necessarily inhuman, a subspecies of sorts. A species that could consume food, could go into the sunlight, but couldn't live without specific "nutrients," as she'd called them. Without the nutrients, the urges took over. Dark urges that would consume the soul, until it got what it really wanted.
Human blood.
Finding out he was a vampire was not on his bingo card for the day. And a lameass version of one, too. He would only be capable of the kind of superhuman strength he'd heard about in books and movies that came about when his kind was at the end of their rope, needing it to attack and subdue their prey. The pills had been created long ago by a vampire scientist that wished to stop the war between them and the humans, to repress the urges while keeping them alive. The recipe has since been passed down by others to keep everything silent, as if they didn't exist. So vampires could walk amongst everyone else as if they just had a simple affliction. Over time, from evolution and strict use of the medicine from youth, vampires no longer had the need for their fangs to be long enough to pierce skin deep enough to pull life-threatening amounts of blood, but they still had canines that were sharper than most humans, top and bottom, and still had the venom for numbing the prey into submission.
Kyle's mother had forgotten to take her pills the previous day, in her haste to get to work, and she was suffering the consequences. Missing even a single dose set her back and she needed to take in fresh blood until she was back to normal. Kyle didn't ask where the blood came from, but he had a feeling he knew when he saw his father had his wrist bandaged up the next day.
He wanted to yell at her for keeping it a secret from him. For shielding the truth from him for so long. Hell, even Ike knew he was adopted from a much younger age. But when he saw the tired look in her eyes, the apologetic smile on her face...all he could do was pull her into a hug.
This wouldn't affect his life, she'd told him. As long as he kept taking the pills, nothing would change. He was still the same person he always was, and always would be, as long as he kept up the routine. He promised he would, because he couldn't bear the alternative.
The thought that he could snap, hurt somebody against his own will...that wasn't something he ever wanted to live with.
--
Kyle is sixteen when he sees Kenny die for the xth time in his life. He's stopped counting years ago.
They should've all gotten on the bus together. They were supposed to get to school together, all in one piece. But the universe had it out for Kenny and in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Hit by the bus in some cruel twist of fate, and Kyle couldn't help but roll his eyes as he saw Kenny go flying and hit the concrete with a sickening thud. Honestly, at this point, it was getting cliché. It's always the fucking bus that keeps taking him out. Why do they always drive up onto the curb like that?
"Oh my god, they killed Kenny!"
"You bastards," he sighs out, watching as Stan and Cartman load onto the bus. Having immediately forgotten that they'd just seen their friend get killed in front of them.
But Kyle's never forgotten. It must be the ancient magic in him, because he's always the only one left staring. He didn't understand it until he found what he was, and it riddles him with guilt now.
Kenny has been trying to tell them for years that he dies. That he dies and comes back, and that nobody cares. Kenny had shot himself in front of them when they were playing superheroes, trying so hard to convince them to remember for once, and Kyle had to pretend that he was also immune to remembering. To admit to remembering would be to admit who he was, or for everyone around him to think he was crazy for playing along, and he had to keep it a secret. It was his own curse to bear, but damn if it didn't hurt to watch Kenny suffer in silence.
But he does care. Even if Kenny doesn't know it, he remembers for him.
Something about today was different, though. Kyle can hear Stan asking him why he's not getting on the bus right away, but he can't look away from Kenny's broken body. All that blood splattered along the road, along the front of the bus. He blinks and he realizes he's suddenly aware of a heartbeat that's not his own, slow and faint, before it stops altogether.
That stops when Kenny stops twitching and gurgling.
Something about the scene is drawing him in, making his own pulse quicken. He doesn't let himself get startled by Kenny's deaths anymore, he knows he'll always come back. Something about the cult of Cthulhu and the old ones that were immortal. So why is his body flooded with adrenaline all of a sudden?
"Kyle!" He snaps his gaze away to look at Stan, who's now holding his arm and giving him a look of concern. "Dude, what's with you? We gotta go, or we're gonna make everyone be late!"
Kyle swallows and he nods, letting Stan drag him onto the bus. He pays no mind to the nasty stare the bus driver is giving him because his own mind is racing. The blood, all that blood...why was it drawing him in? He plants himself down in his seat and then he's hit with a very startling realization.
He hadn't taken his pills last night.