Beautiful Death

by Christina Moore

  He screamed, the arm he was using to hold Malik back wavered as his stomach and stitches gave under the vampire’s nails. Ash flung herself onto Malik’s back, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his throat.

  “Now, this is more like it!” Malik yelled into Tristan’s face, spitting on him. The Master vampire pushed the length of his naked body against the last Uruwashi. He had a few fun things in mind for the beautiful man once he’d subdued the others. Right, he didn’t want his two pets dead yet, he just wanted them docile enough to have a little bit of fun.

  Ash, having heard the thoughts, caught a preview of the “fun” her Master had in mind, tightened her arm around his throat. “I will not let you harm him!”

  Malik laughed. “I’d like to see you try otherwise. You think I cannot get free of this interesting little ménage a—”

  “Coward!” she shouted, cutting off the rest of his little speech. What he had started to say was that all he had to do was command her, then there would be nothing either of them could do to stop it. But Ash knew her Master better than he thought she had. “You are a coward to resort to such tricks!”

  Over all others, Malik’s biggest sin had always been pride.

  Malik ground his fangs before letting out an aggravated cry. Of course, his silly, delusional scion was right. That would be cheating. What fun was there in cheating? He decided, regretfully, that Asta had to die first—it was the only way he could enjoy his time with the last Uruwashi. With another cry, Malik jerked back, surprising them both and spun.

  Ash was flung to her back with a grunt against the grass. Malik landed on top of her, pressed groin to chest. With her compromised position, and lack of proper attire, it wasn’t hard for him to slip into her. Ash gasped, her eyes widening. She resisted, wanted to, but then when Malik made his first hard thrust against her, she waivered. She met his eyes and something in her broke. He was looking at her in that way that he always had. He knew he owned her, mind, body and spirit.

  Realizing in an instant what was happening, Tristan screamed, “Fucking bastard!” and dove at the vampire. The tackle that tore Malik off Ash and took the two men rolling across the lawn was the last thing Tristan’s wounds needed. The stabbing pain in his chest, through his lungs made him lose his grip on the vampire as he gasped for air.

  Angry for having his time with Asta so rudely interrupted, the Master vampire threw himself on the human, delivering a punch to his gut. All of the air left Tristan and he couldn’t even yell in pain. He lay under the man, completely prone to whatever the vampire had in mind.

  Malik leaned in close, bearing his fangs to Tristan. “And to think, I had thought you spoiled my fun.”

  Tristan couldn’t even ask what the vampire meant if he wanted to. Malik suddenly pressed his mouth to Tristan’s. His eyes widened as he tried to push the vampire back. Tristan may have wanted to be transformed into his birthright, but this was definitely not the way he wanted the deed done. There was a cry from behind the vampire and Ash slammed into Malik, pushing him off Tristan. But not before the vampire forced his tongue into Tristan’s mouth, getting a deep taste. Malik laughed, momentarily letting Ash think that she had bested him. Tristan lay on the ground, stunned, wondering what the hell just happened.

  “Marvelous!” Malik yelled with a laugh.

  “Ah, Tristan!” Ash called out over her Master’s cry.

  There was a grunt and then the fucking bastard was on top of Tristan again, Ash nowhere in sight. Tristan swung out and missed, glancing a cheek. Malik countered with his is own punch that took Tristan right in the eyebrow. A gash opened, spilling dark red into his eye, half blinding him. His mouth hurt and he realized he’d taken a hit there too. Or was it something worse, did Malik bite him? The scent of his blood, the taste of it across his tongue made his stomach clench. The Uruwashi in him screamed for him to swallow. The human in him wanted to vomit. He just reacted and spit into Malik’s face.

  Malik laughed and lapped at his chin and upper lip. “Mmm, that’s it. That’s the flavor I desire... mmm, I can’t wait to eat every bit of your lovely body, Uruwashi.”

  Dazed still, Tristan’s eyes closed a little longer than he should have let them. He knew if let the vampire hit him like that one more time like that then it was lights out.

  God, and where the fuck is Yuki? Bitch can’t help, just a little? And Ash… is she—

  Someone groaned, reminding him to open his eyes. He blinked up at Malik, that weight pressing down on top of him. The vampire had something sticking out of his throat. It was the tip of a finely honed Japanese tantō. Ash leaned over so that Tristan could see her and the dark sneer. Between them, Malik’s pale eyes were wide as if he couldn’t believe that’d happened.

  With a growl that raised all the hair on Tristan’s body, Ash laced her fingers into Malik’s messy mane and jerked his head back. Malik lost his balanced and ended up on his hip on the ground next to Tristan. Free finally, Tristan slipped away while Ash positioned herself against Malik’s side, pulling the blade out of the back of his neck. She flipped the tantō in her grip and pressed the blade to the front of his throat.

  “Do you have anything to say, Master, before I slit your throat?”

  He blinked back at her, wide-eyed, as shocked as she’d ever seen him. He suddenly grinned. “You think…” He had to swallow down his own blood as it pooled up from his quickly healing neck. “You think this little wound will kill me? That I cannot stop you from slitting my throat? Asta, you truly disapoin—” He ended with a gasp as his chest burst into pain and slowly turned to look behind him.

  Tristan, unable to support himself anymore collapsed against Malik’s back, fingers held tight to the katana. “No, but together, we can stop you, fucking jerk.”

  Malik looked down to the place on his chest where Tristan had twisted the blade around, cutting a big hole in the undead’s heart. He looked up again and met Ash’s eyes, his own softening into a look she’d never seen before. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something but then with a cry and a flick of the wrist, Ash cut deep into his throat. She cut so deep her Master couldn’t even scream.

  Tristan gasped and fell back as the vampire toppled over onto the grass, coming face to face with him from a foot away. Ash flung herself over his side, and upside-down, buried her face into the front of his bleeding neck.

  Malik and the last Uruwashi met eyes in a moment overwhelmed by the sound of Ash sucking the life from her misguided Master. Amazement and something close to sorrow filled those purple eyes. His white brow pinched together as his frown deepened. The realization of his death was written clearly across his face. It was not a look befitting to the monster that had destroyed so much.

  Tristan sneered at him and whispered, “You got what you deserved.”

  With a look of understanding and a slow blink, Malik’s eyes closed for the last time.

  “Wait,” Tristan rasped, feeling faint all of the sudden. “My mother… Masuyo, did you kill her? Malik! Tell me, did you kill her!”

  The vampire was gone. Tristan’s victory tasted bad in his mouth. It could have been his own blood, or the knowledge that he might never know what happened to his mother. With a small gasp, Ash sat up, mouth dripping with blood, some of it congealed as Malik’s vampiric body tried to heal the wound and failed.

  “Yes.”

  “What?” Tristan asked, attention snapping to Ash.

  “Yes,” she said again, louder. “I… I saw her death. I am sorry, Tristan.” She saw a great many things that did not make sense to her. Clues she would leave for Tristan to help him find himself.

  He sighed and shut his eyes. Guess he knew that it was inevitable with the crazy vampire. Ash grunted a strange noise and Tristan opened his eyes just in time to see Malik’s head separated from his body. She gave a little harrumph, said a few actual curses in her native tongue and gave the headless body a swift kick.

  “It’s over,” Tristan whispered as he rolled over to his s
ide. He realized that his body stopped hurting long ago. It might have been lingering effects of the pain potion. But he thought really it had more to do with dying. Ah, but it wouldn’t be so bad to die now, here.

  It’s really, finally over.

  “Almost,” Ash said. Her voice was harsh, but there was a wicked smile on her face. She stood and went to Tristan. Pale knees appeared at his side and he looked up, forcing himself not to linger on Ash’s naked body, and smiled. She was covered from head to toe in blood, some dry, some dissolving already, most tacky and wet. Even having that smooth, radiant skin covered in blood, she was still the most beautiful woman he knew. Ash returned his smile, touching his cheek gently and pushed his hair from his eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  He nodded, shutting his eyes. He just wanted to sleep, for a few minutes. He deserved a small nap after that, right?

  “Hai!” sang the familiar voice and Ash’s presence moved away.

  Tristan heaved a sigh and cracked an eye open. Ash was over Malik’s body, cutting it into bite-sized pieces. Vampire nuggets. Bare feet stopped inches from his face and Tristan looked up. Of course it was her. He groaned and forced himself to roll over to his back. Yuki looked down at him, bent at the waist, head tilted to the side and smirked, all upside-down.

  “Dammit. Yuki,” he snapped, “why didn’t you help?”

  She grinned all fang. At her side, fisted in her little hand by a mop of white hair was Malik’s severed head. “Yare yare, you two put on a lovely show. When can I catch the encore?”

  To his left, Ash harrumphed.

  “Nothing to worry about, Ryōshi-san. Always knew you would pull through. Shame Asta-chan didn’t turn you though. I was so wanting to see what you could really do. Pity, pity, pity... Ahhhhhh, zannen, zannen da!” she sang and then giggled as she spun in a little circle, dancing with Malik’s head held out in front of her.

  Tristan put on a cynical smile, lifted a hand and answered, “Fuck off,” as he gave her the finger.

  Ash tensed, but Yuki, finding humor in many places, laughed. Not that Tristan gave a shit if he offended her or not at this point. She leaned over him, tiling her head so that he almost saw her right side up. “You and Asta-chan play so very well together,” she practically sang through a big smile. “Such an interesting partnership you have made... am I right in saying you are lovers?”

  The fuck if he knew. He groaned and mumbled something not very nice in response about it being none of her damn business, just not put so nicely. Yuki burst into laughter again and danced out of his range of view with Malik’s head to do her version of Hamlet. He shook his head and whispered, “Freak.”

  He let out a long sigh, blinked up at the sky, fighting off sleep. Virgin white snowflakes started to fall. There was a sort of supernatural flavor about these snowflakes though as they filled the night with tiny, twinkling drops of luminosity. The flakes landed on his face only to immediately melt on his skin, but they felt warm.

  “So warm,” he whispered.

  “I need that,” Ash’s stern voice said over the wet sounds of flesh being cut apart and the crack of bones.

  Yuki laughed and he shivered, feeling the first hint of being touched. “Do you still wish to go through with it? Because you know—”

  “Yukihime,” Ash hissed.

  “No,” Yuki said. “I told you, fifty years ago and again today, I will not be the one to do it.” For once, Yuki sounded… upset. That raised a warning in Tristan and for good reason. “I refuse to kill you.”

  “Yukihime!”

  Tristan’s eyes snapped open. “Ash?” He started to move, but then Ash was suddenly at his side, leaning into him, pushing him to lay back down. He gasped, surprised. “Jesus Christ, Ash. What’s she talking about. You can’t really mean—”

  “Sleep.” Her voice filled his ear, his head. It was all he could hear. His vision went black as if the lights on the world had been turned off. All of the tension in his body was suddenly gone, he was completely relaxed. He took in a deep gasping breath, chest burning slightly with that intake of air—just enough to remind him that he was alive. And then, there was…

  “…nothing.”

  26: The Undertaker

  THE old man was hacking again, that wet cough that shook his whole body, filled his chest with pain. It’d been five days now that he’d been held up in the stale hospital room with that gaijin fellow. He was a nice enough roommate anyway, never said a word. Never complained about the coughing.

  The old man’s fit subsided and, feeling eyes on him, he looked up, meeting his roommate’s tired expression. The old man smiled big, his entire expression lighting up as if he were genuinely happy to see the stranger.

  “Yo,” the old man drawled out, holding up two fingers.

  Tristan blinked at him and then looked down to his hands—opened and closed them. He was having a hard time understanding that he was alive. He didn’t die…?

  “Genki ka?”

  Tristan sighed, shutting his eyes as he turned his head away. “Don’t understand you.” Now, that wasn’t entirely true. He’d been there long enough to pick up the basics, like “how are you?”, but he just didn’t feel like talking. He was still digesting the fact that he was alive.

  “Anata wa eien made nemashita.”

  “God,” he huffed, jabbing the palms of his hands into his eyes—they hurt. So did his arms, chest, stomach… He was sure there’d be more once he started moving. “I told you, I don’t know what you’re saying, old man.”

  The man smiled at him.

  As he rubbed his eyes he wondered how he went from cutting out Malik’s heart to being in the hospital. Then it hit him full force… Malik was dead. The man who killed his parents for nothing, made his life a living hell, was dead.

  I’m sorry it took me so long to find the truth behind your deaths. I’m sorry you died for me. Please, forgive me...

  “Anō sa, anō sa!”

  Tristan let out a huff and looked to the old man again. He was so ready to get the hell out of there and he’d only just woken. He flipped back the bed covers and looked down at his legs, made sure they were working. “What?”

  “Anata wa… Igririsu jin desu ka?”

  He didn’t understand all of that, but enough. “No, American,” he answered as he climbed out of bed. His side pinched in pain and his head spun. He grabbed onto the edge of the bed while he waited for the disorientation to pass.

  “OooOoh,” the old man answered and fell into a coughing fit again.

  God. Did that guy ever shut up? And holy fucking hell, his head hurt. It more than hurt, it felt like an alien was trying to climb out of his skull, boring through the hard bone with a spoon—‘cause it’s dull, you twit, it’ll hurt more. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a headache, and never one worse than a mild nuisance. Turned out he took a bigger beating than he realized. He was still amazed he was alive.

  He looked over to the old man, watching him, grinning away like they were the best of friends. Then again, maybe this was his hell. Tristan groaned, unsure of whether to clutch his head or side when the door opened. He looked up, meeting the gaze of a pretty little Japanese nurse with bobbed hair and thick bangs.

  “Ah!” the old man called out in a gravelly voice. “Naoko-chan!”

  She stopped just inside the door, smiling. “Oh,” she said looking at Tristan. “You are awake.”

  Thank god she spoke English.

  “You shouldn’t be up.” She rushed over to him and tried to make him sit down. It was almost comical to watch the tiny woman take on the six-foot-three American. Frankly, his body hurt so he decided to acquiesce for the moment.

  “How long have I been here?”

  She screwed her mouth up before answering, “Seven days.”

  The old man raised a wrinkled hand and shouted in Japanese, “I told him!” Well, he hadn’t said exactly how long, just that he’d been asleep for a while.

  “I understand, Kimur
a-san. Please stay calm, it’ll keep your attacks to a minimum.” She turned her attention back to Tristan and asked in English, “Can I do anything for you? How do you feel?”

  “Like shit. What the hell happened? How did I end up here?”

  The small nurse rung her hands together. “I was not there, but I heard that you were brought in by a young man just before dawn, a week ago. He said you had an accident. Said to make sure you lived and then just disappeared.”

  He was the talk of the small hospital. Everyone was going on about the two gaijin who showed up at the hospital—one pale as a ghost, the other tall as a giant and badly hurt. Hell, half of the town knew of Tristan, it was just too small to not notice the foreigner. When he first arrived in Japan, he was fawned over, at a distance anyway—oh look at the handsome American, isn’t he exotic? But now, with news of his battered body showing up at the hospital, half dead, everyone was leery of him. More than usual.

  The little nurse put a hand to her hip and gave him a stern look. “Sir—ah, sorry, but what is your name?”

  “Tristan.”

  “Tristan-san, I don’t know what you were doing but you are very lucky to have woken.”

  He gave her a wry smile. “Thank you for being honest.”

  “I’m just happy to see you wake. You’re probably hungry. I’ll see what I can find for you to eat,” she said, turning to leave.

  “Just tea for me!” Kimura called out after her.

  Tristan let out a deflating sigh and stopped to think for a moment. He realized, without Naoko telling him, that it was Ash who’d brought him to the hospital. But why? It was well within her ability to care for him. But then, the memory of their parting words came back to him. Yuki, her tone angry, words biting as she told Ash, “I refuse to kill you.” Ash had asked Yuki to kill her. Ash wanted to die.

  “Fuck,” he grumbled, going to his feet again. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Eh?” Kimura popped up, on alert. “Nani shiteru no?”

  Tristan ignored him as he started for their shared bath. He came to a sharp stop when his arm pinched and he remembered he had an IV in his arm. Not only that, he had a catheter. He was tied to his bed by tubes. With a sigh he sat back down on the edge of his bed.