Beautiful Death (4 page)
NUMB
. Everything was numb. Ears ringing, hurt.
The sky, so very dark. The stars, so very beautiful.
Dirty hands came up between him and his view of the sky. Blood seeped from open wounds, trickling down into the cuff of a white dress shirt. Bits of gravel stuck to the blood and raw flesh. After a moment, Tristan realized they were his bloody hands and in that moment of revelation is when he noticed the sharp scent of burnt plastic and heated metal.
Instant panic washed over him, catching his breath, clenching his stomach into a tight knot. He moved to get up, but his body protested, sending electricity through his entire upper body. He gasped and fell back. Nothing felt broken, not yet that he could feel anyway. The ringing in his ears was beginning to fade and soon he heard a sound that shot right through him, made him shiver. Someone was screaming, wails full of terror and pain. Oh god, he knew the voice behind those screams.
Mom
...
His body just reacted. He tried to stand and ended up falling over, screaming in agony. Bile burned up the back of his throat and he went lightheaded. When the pain lessened and he could see again he tenderly inched his pants up on his left leg. The bones under his skin were no longer linear and straight. Something was broken after all.
“Fuck me…,” he hissed through gritted teeth and swiped the spittle from his chin with his forearm.
He forced himself into a seated position, panting and groaning with the effort. The numbness he felt before was gone and while it was uncomfortable, he wished it were back. Burning pain throbbed all up his leg, through his hip and side. Sweat gathered across his forehead, under his hair and down his back. The night was warm, but not that warm. And with each new moment that his hearing returned, he realized there was a peculiar, yet eerily familiar sound beating at his back. It was also the source of his mother’s cries. He had to get to her, he had to help her.
Cursing, sweating, and shaking, Tristan finally got himself turned around to find a sight that he wasn’t sure was real. A black Audi sedan lay on its side, held in the clutches of a gnarled guardrail. It was once shiny and new. It was once his parent’s car. Now the sedan belonged to the tall flames devouring the entire front end. The passenger cabin was crumpled, pushed in at the middle. Broken glass shined and shimmered across the pavement reflecting the light of the fire like tiny twinkling stars fallen from the heavens, the stars he had been admiring not more than five minutes ago.
Tristan’s mind was a jumbled mess of disbelief and fear. He couldn’t remember what happened between sitting in the car, talking to his parents and waking up on the ground with a broken leg. There had been no other cars on the road, they were the only ones. Did an animal run out? What else could have it of been? Why didn’t he know what happened?
Worry about the why later.
He needed to find his dad and save his mom.
He rolled to his stomach, crying out when the bones in his leg tried to poke through his skin. Even when the pain nearly blinded him, he forced himself forward, crawling slowly towards the car, dragging the useless broken leg behind him. As he got closer to the car, the familiar form of his father came into sight.
“Oh my god,” he whispered, not believing.
The tall, proud man that was once his father was now lying face down on the pavement in a crumpled, broken mess meat and blood. He’d been evicted the car via the windshield. Tears filled Tristan’s eyes, blurring the world, burned down his cheeks as they broke free. He had a decision to make, who to go to first. Another terrified, shrill scream made his decision. He looked to the car and the cries for help coming from within. An outline, clearly lit by the light of the fire, hung sideways in the passenger seat by the seatbelt. She was bent forward, pushing frantically at her legs, face distorted in terror. The flames that helped illuminate the cabin were also proving to be her doom. She was being burned alive.
“Mooooom!” he cried out, his panic doubling at the sight of her trying to save herself and failing.
Tristan’s hearing had mostly returned. The unfortunate side effect of being able to hear again was having to listen to the sounds of his mother’s screams full volume. Having to listen to her die. They tore at him, pulling the tears faster and making it impossible to see. He gulped down a lungful of sooty tasting air and wondered how he was going to save his mother if he couldn’t even stand. He wouldn’t give up, he couldn’t. It was not in him to roll over and die, or let someone he loved die so easily. He’d cut off his leg if he had to, just to save his mother. He’d give his life for hers.
He’d just pushed up to move forward when something moved at the edge of his vision. His attention snapped around and he blinked hard, trying to clear the tears away. There was a figure, a person, hidden deep in the shadows across the street. They’re
watching
?
“Hey!” Tristan shouted. “Help us. Ple-ase!”
There was no answer
.
No movement.
“Heeey. Can you hear me? Hell-o? There’s a fucking wreck, right here. Help!”
A warm, deep laugh filled the air and Tristan shivered, feeling uneasy. He shut his eyes tightly and sucked in a sharp breath to scream for help again when he was suddenly sitting up awake in Ash’s guestroom. The echo of that laugh rang in his ears like a bad James Bond villain. And yet, it terrified him. There was something wrong with the person. There was something wrong with the whole fucked up situation. No matter how many times he thought of that night, he couldn’t remember how it happened. He was sure he’d run himself insane before his mind would give up the answer. But there was one thing he was starting to believe, that the Bond villain had something to do with it. But why?
His pulse raced, heart beating hard against his chest. He put a hand to his face and came away with clear liquid. Some of it was sweat, the rest was tears. Tears for his parents. He wondered if he’d ever stop dreaming of that night. But then, the answer was probably one he didn’t want to hear. The urge to go fill that empty place in him with his post-accident habit was almost overwhelming. He knew exactly where to find the booze. He knew he shouldn’t, but it called to him, begged him to come have a taste, offered empty promises that he so desperately needed to believe. What was a little taste? He did always learn best by trial and error after all.
As he moved to sit up, he felt something against his neck. He reached up and when his fingers found the necklace Ash had given him, he tore it off and tossed it across the room with a huff. “Worthless piece of shit.” He felt silly for even thinking it might actually work.
A quick glance at the windows told him it was daylight out. God, he wanted that drink. He started to climb out of bed when there was a faint noise from the direction of the bathroom. He jumped, turning wide-eyed towards the sound and met startled brown eyes.
“Um, yes?” he asked, not entirely happy Haruka was wondering around in his room while he was trying to sleep. Guess he wasn’t really sleeping that well to begin with.
Haruka quickly looked away, clasping her hands before her. “My apology—
apologies
young Master. Did I wake you? I return your things,” she responded meekly, motioning to the bathroom.
“Ah, no.” He swatted at the tears before she decided to look up again and see them. “It was—just sleeping in a strange place syndrome, that’s all.”
Haruka’s thin mouth curled down in the tiniest of frowns. She didn’t understand. “Please, sleep.” She gave a small bow and left the room quietly.
He ran a hand through his sleep tussled hair wondering if she had just called him young Master? Ash was obviously younger and she called him plain “Master.” Whatever, it was way too early to be pondering the meaning of shit, especially these strange people
.
God, it wasn’t even worth it to get out of bed anymore. He just wanted to sleep and forget.
“Fuck it,” he huffed and tossed his head back into his pillows knowing he had to get some sleep before confronting his eccentric host again. Joy.
HE’S dreaming, perhaps I should join him to bask in his pain.”
Wasn’t that the reason this monster was here?
Ash sighed, eyes still shut. Far too tired to deal with
him
today. Unfortunately, it was daylight still, the unwelcomed guest wouldn’t be able to leave until the sun had. “You are disturbing my rest. Go away.”
That familiar laugh engulfed Ash. “Always so negative. And cruel.” Again, a deep laugh and Ash’s eyes opened. The guest was naked. Of course he was. “You tickle my dick so. Ah I wish we could do this in person. These settings always leave me feeling lacking.”
Ash stared cold eyes at him. “You mean libidinous.”
That laugh again. It touched Ash in a way that Ash hated and loved so very much. “You always say the best things.”
Ash tried again to gain control. “You do not belong here. I should find where your body rests and kill you.”
“Ah, if it were that easy you would have done it long ago. Chasing after me like a lost puppy for so long. You’re weak. You’ve always been weak.”
Ash was humbled; he was right. He had always been right. “Why are you disturbing my sleep?”
He titled his head to the side, considering. After a moment, his lips stretched into a broad grin. “Oh, I see…
She’s
been here, hasn’t she? That nosey child.”
“I am sure I do not know what you mean.” Ash rolled away, back to the guest. “Leave me be.”
He tisked disapprovingly. “You disappoint me. Don’t you know what is in your own home?”
“What?” Ash sat up. “What are you…” Then remembered. Ash had gone out earlier that night, right? Came in contact with that dirty jikininki, “Shizuka” she called herself. There was that loudmouthed American, Tristan. And then, then…
“Ha! You’ve been striped. How careless of you.”
“What, that is absur—” Ash’s lips parted, a shaky breath coming through. Beyond careless, letting her get too close. “
Kono
ama
,” Ash hissed. It was not like Ash to curse, but if one must, Japanese seemed less harsh. It was, after all, one of Ash’s more favored languages.
The guest burst into laughter. “Oh I do love unnerving you. Hearing you curse makes me hard too.” As if he ever needed help with that.
The athletic, naked man stepped forward. There was nowhere for Ash to go, trapped at the head of the bed. Even knowing it was a mere dream, a construct, there were plenty of weapons close enough that would still do harm to the intruders real body. But the effort was not worth it. He had always been faster, charming. Dominant. His word was always final.
He is also a mad fool.
“I heard that,” he said giving Ash a pointed look and then sighed. “Ah, I guess there is nothing for me to do here now. It’s no fun if you don’t remember what you fight for.” He stepped around to the end of the bed, long fingers caressing the post as if he were tickling someplace private. He pressed his nose to the wood like he was trying to smell inside of it.
“That—” Ash shirked back when the guest climbed onto the end of the bed and started to crawl up.
“Don’t worry so hard, you’ll age yourself terribly.” He laughed when Ash gave him a dirty look. “Besides, I’m enjoying the show so far. Good foreplay always makes the climax so much sweeter, don’t you think?”
“I—leave. Or I will put a bullet into your skull.”
“You and I both know that will only piss me off more. And I don’t think you’re prepared to take my head just yet. Admit, you love our little game. You love me.”
Ash sighed, eyes shutting for a moment. “I will do what must be done. And I am so very tired of chasing you.”
“I’m right here, my dear,” he said with a huge, disgusting grin. When Ash’s eyes opened again, he was hovering. Too close. The scent of sex and death… overwhelming.
Immobilizing
. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
Ash had to swallow back the doubt. “I would rather die than have you in my bed again.”
He burst into laughter. “It’s not your bed I want a piece of, my dear.”
“Yes. And that piece of me dislikes you as much as the rest.”
“Oh, you hurt my feelings.”
“You have no feelings to be hurt.”
“You do know me best.”
It was a line Ash had heard many times from Shishō too. “Unfortunate,” Ash said dryly.
“No,” he said, lowering himself onto Ash. “The unfortunate is that our time is up. I was hoping to have longer to…
chat
with you.”
A tremor tore down Ash’s spin for the very wrong reason. “You mean maiming.”
“Ah,” the vampire said, grinning all fang. “It is what I do best.”
BIG surprise, Tristan didn’t sleep well. He didn’t know if it was the insanity that happened at the club—including whatever Shizuka drugged him with—his new friend, or the nagging feeling of being watched all day as he tried to sleep. Also, his normal routine of drinking himself into a comfortable stupor was not fulfilled.
It was only mid-afternoon when he finally gave up and climbed out of bed. Before he knew what he was doing, Tristan found himself standing over the wet bar, staring at the bottles of vodka, whiskey and other top shelf liquors. Ash kept a nice stock, plenty to drown himself in. His fingers ached to reach out and take a bottle. He needed to fill that empty place with its favorite drug.
In the end, he forced himself away from the bar, hands shaking and nearly sweating with the effort. He needed to be straight, who knew what else was going to happen. Torn from his only love, he wandered the Great Room for a time, keeping a keen ear out for the home’s less-than-normal inhabitants, only to discover the house dead quiet. He did his best to avoid even looking at the bar, lest he be tempted again. The thought to leave had occurred to him. Only, he had to know what was going on. What was that old saying about the cat and curiosity? Yeah.
Sometime near dusk Haruka appeared and fed him a luxurious dinner. She was still super awkward around him and he wondered if she was mentally okay. There was just something about her that just want’s right. The dog ate too, much to his disgust. A raw diet was good in theory, he just didn’t want to see it. After everyone’d been fed, Tristan found himself in the Great Room again, only this time there was music playing. It was classical and completely depressing.
God, didn’t these people listen to anything that didn’t make you want to slit your wrists?
There was a fire lit in the hearth that hadn’t been there before dinner and while the temperature outside wasn’t quite cold enough, it was nice anyway. And there was that bar again, a comfort if any, staring at him. The bottles each had their own voice and they were all screaming at him to come have a taste.
God, how he wanted that taste. Foul temptresses.
The sound of nails clicking on the hardwood brought his attention around to the hall. “Hey, girl, you following me?” he asked and knelt to pet her, looking into her bright blue eyes. “Well, hello, aren’t you just stunning? What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“What are you doing here?”
The dog bounced over to Ash with a small bark of excitement.
“What?” Tristan asked with a scowl. “This room is off limits now?”
Ash was standing in the doorway before him, looking frazzled. He hadn’t slept well thanks to his late day visitor. If what the unwelcome vampire had said to Ash was so, then that would explain the confused thoughts in Ash’s mind, why he couldn’t remember how he came about bringing the American into his home. The man was pleasant enough to look at least. Tall, thick black hair, deep blue eyes. Ash felt as if he knew those eyes from somewhere. A distant memory. Perhaps one Shishō had helped herself to.
Damn her for messing with his mind. Everything was a jumbled mess. He nearly had a headache. The absurdity of it.
“No.” Ash cleared his throat. “This is Pandora.”
Haruka called out from the kitchen and Pandora ran off.
“Nice dog,” Tristan said, trying to be civil. The night was fresh and Ash hadn’t hit him yet, so he could play nice. Didn’t mean he liked the guy or anything.
“Thank you. She is a dear friend, always respect her.”
Tristan couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the odd statement. And he was wearing those light purple contacts again. What was with that? The guy was turning out to be weirder and weirder. “Why am I here?”
One of Ash’s bleached brows rose. “Because I saved you.”
Tristan scowled. “Saved me,” he mumbled. Pretentious jerk off. “Look, I know you know what’s going on.”
“I do.” Ash mumbled in answer as he passed in front of Tristan. His long hair was pulled back tightly into a leather barrette, making it look short from the front, but Tristan still thought it made him look like a girl. The young man was poured into skintight black leather pants, showing how lean his legs were all the way down to his tabi socks. He wore a mid-thigh dark gray kimono style on top with a simple white sash holding it closed.
On his left hip was the sword he used last night on Shizuka. The sheath was beautifully lacquered black wood, hand painted with dark purple and silver engraved dragonflies. The hilt was wrapped in the same deep purple from the sheath, fashioning a diamond pattern around the handle. It was most definitely authentic and the wear on the hilt wrap and sheath edges said Ash put it to use often too. Despite the attentive cleaning Ash gave it upon waking, it still bore the stench of jikininki.
“And?” Tristan prompted when Ash was silent for too long.
Ash turned, eyes going over him, considering, probing. Made Tristan uncomfortable. “You would not believe me if I told you the truth.”
“No one gets to tell me what I think or feel.”
Ash raised a brow at him.
“Try me,” Tristan challenged.
Ash sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose with two delicate fingers.
“I don’t know what you think you know about me, but I’m open to all sort of philosophies. Unless you’re talking about… I don’t know, shit like ghosts and werewolves…
God
, then I might believe you.”
Ash bit his bottom lip. He wasn’t sure if laughing was the right response to what Tristan had said so he opted to hold it back. “Then you definitely will not believe anything I have to say.”
“So… what? You’re saying all of those things are true?”
“Yes.”
Tristan tisked, shaking his head. “You’re really a weird dude, you know that?”
It hadn’t taken Ash long to figure out the tall American hid behind sarcasm. However, it was going to wear on him all too quickly. Ash gave a small shake of his head, sighing, and removed the sword from his waist. After the sword was safely propped next to the fireplace, he took a seat in one of the chairs before the great stone fireplace.
“That may be so, but that does not change the fact that you are being hunted.”
Tristan couldn’t hide his skepticism. He always did wear his emotions so clearly for all to see, unashamed and boldly.
“Hunted by what? That zombie from last night?”
He couldn’t believe he actually used the Z-word and meant it. He did say he was open to all sorts of ideas, but even that one just seemed too… unnatural. That last night happened was not an illusion. Drugs or no drugs, he knew what he saw and what he saw was impossible. And yet, if he started doubting his own eyes what hope was there to accepting the truth? Even if the truth was impossible.
“That thing, the one going by the name of Shizuka, was just a servant of the one you hunts you. She was just a simple jikininki. Not really a danger at all, in the bigger scheme of things.”
Tristan swallowed hard, nervousness making a lump in his throat. “And what’s the bigger scheme of things?”
“The purpose? I do not know. I just know that the one who hunts you goes by the name of Malik and he is…” Ash’s mouth screwed up as he fell silent.
With a huff, Tristan stomped over to stand over Ash. Even with his obvious vexation, Ash could see the fear brimming below the surface. If he didn’t go into this with some ease he might scare the man off.
“What? He’s what? A man, a monster? The fucking pope? Just tell me already.”
Ash let out a breath and not really having decided to answer, he did. “Vampire.”
Tristan stared for a stunned moment and then threw his hands into the air. “You really are a fucking nutcase.” He turned and looked like he meant to leave but stopped short of leaving the room.
“Why me?”
Ash sighed, looking genuinely distraught. “I, I do not know.”
Tristian frowned, looking up at Ash. The man was sitting stiffly in the chair, watching him with a practiced patience Tristan never learned. He wondered if the man could hear his heart pounding in his chest, the rush of blood and adrenaline in his veins. Everything was turned up, out of focus. He was having a panic attack. At least this one was silent and didn’t involve throwing shit.
He believed. He didn’t know why, but he believed. Was it watching Shizuka rot and then carry on as that dead thing that did it for him? Maybe, but there was a frightening honesty to Ash’s words, the tone with which he spoke them.
“Will you tell me about yourself? Why you are here?”
Curious, Tristan turned and took a few steps back towards his host. “You came to me last night, pal. Walked right up and used my name like we were old fucking friends. So why don’t you tell me what you know about me and then we’ll see what else needs to be known, yeah?”
Ash swallowed hard, his nervousness carefully masked with a stoic mien. “I have been following Malik’s movements for years. That he has struck up interest in you, interests me.”
“So that’s it then, I’m just interesting? You haven’t been watching me? Stalking me to find out who I am or nothing like that?”
Ash lifted his chin, eyes narrowing. “Do I come off as the stalker type?”
Tristan snorted and walked over to stand near the chair opposite Ash. “Yeah, kinda.”
A little smile quirked the corner of Ash’s mouth. “Malik is a monster. I have been trying to stop him for years, his wanton killing, but have been unsuccessful in killing the vampire himself, so instead I focus on saving the lives he seeks to destroy. All I know of you is your name and that you are American… and impertinent.”
Tristan’s harrumphed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Again, that brings us back to why. Why me?”
Ash shook his head, looking solemn. “Sadly, there does not have to be a reason with Malik. He does what he wants to whom he wishes with no consequences. For Haruka, it was Malik’s interest in her family’s money that drew him to slaughter her parents in front of her. It was only my intervention that saved the girl’s life. But such deeds come with a price. I saved her life, but her mind… Minds are far more fragile.”
Tristan felt uneasy again and dropped his arms to his side. “You’re telling me that I’m just some unlucky bastard that happened to attract the sick fucks attention then?”
Ash shut his eyes, bowing his head. “Yes, very possibly.” So why did it feel like that wasn’t it?
The other man was silent for a long time and when Ash looked up again, Tristan was staring at him with eyes a little too large, hands clenched a little too tightly. He was shaking.
“This is so fucked,” Tristan said in a trembling voice. “I… I came here to find—to put my life back together and now just because of, of happenstance or shit luck, now I’m going to become vampire food?”
Ash was silent considering Tristan. There was a question in Ash’s eyes and for some reason, Tristan wanted to tell this guy. He hardly told anyone he met since the accident why he was on crutches or why he was drinking at ten in the morning, but this stranger, this weird fucking dude with bleached hair and purple contacts in eyes full of emotion, he made Tristan want to share, to unburden.
“My parents died.” He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. “It was a car accident. I was there and couldn’t stop it—I let it happen.” He shook his head feeling the well of tears burn his eyes. When he thought he might actually cry, he stomped away and helped himself to the wet bar without bothering to ask. A double shot of vodka went down harsh but it was like heaven to his conscious. He’d be numb soon enough and then all this crazy bullshit Ash was talking would make sense and not seem so bad. Life could be lived another day.
He did leave out the part of the accident where he thought he saw the shadowed man watching. To this day he still didn’t know if that little event even happened. There was nothing in the police reports about a third party at the scene helping or calling.
He also left out the part of his life that he wasn’t proud of. The things he did in the months following his parents’ deaths. Things he would do anything to take back now that he’d had a chance to reflect on his wayward behavior. Things that still leaked into the person he was today. He was trying so hard to be the old him again, the happy boy, innocent and carefree, but like everything since that night his family died, it was difficult. Maybe Tristan really died that night. He was already dead and just didn’t know it.
“Anyway, I found my birth certificate and it had a name on it I didn’t know so, so I followed the electronic information I could find here. My birth mother lives in this town. I haven’t seen her yet, but…” He sniffled and took another drink. “It doesn’t really matter anymore since it looks like I have to leave now.”
“Was there any subsequent investigation into the cause of the accident?” Ash asked, interrupting his thoughts.
Tristan nodded slowly. “Yeah, but they didn’t find anything. I mean, I was there, there
was
nothing. No cars, no people, no animals. Nothing. It was only us out there. It was like we just... crashed.”