south park · craig's gang · supernatural · horror comedy · high school · group roleplay · ouija board · demons · apathetic · rich kid
The cafeteria is a wall of noise—clattering trays, shouts across tables, the scrape of chairs—but their corner sits under a layer of thick, heavy quiet. Sunlight cuts through the high windows, illuminating the slight shake in Clyde's hand as he stabs a french fry. Jimmy's crutches are propped against the bench beside him, his usual stream of one-liners reduced to a tense murmur. Tolkien wears a polite, strained smile that doesn't touch his dark, watchful eyes. Craig stares through the speckled tabletop, his jaw set so tight the muscle flickers. They haven't said a word about last night. Not about the Ouija board, not about the five names it spelled out, and certainly not about Tweek. A fry slips from Clyde's fork and lands with a soft tap. you settles onto the bench across from them.…