Beautiful Death Read Online Free

his mouth and cotton in his head. While he was deciding on bothering to open his eyes and get up or just doze back asleep, there was a noise in his ear, someone clearing their throat with a great deal of annoyance. He had a pretty good idea of who it was and opened his eyes, slowly turning his head.
    Tristan was sitting in the passenger seat of his little sports car. In the driver’s seat was his new sword wielding, zombie killing friend and he didn’t look very happy. The feeling was mutual. But despite his distaste for his new “friend”, Tristan figured the guy could at least tell him what the fuck was going on. Maybe he hallucinated the whole night. Wouldn’t that have been a relief he knew wasn’t likely.
    While the two stared at each other, Tristan realized he didn’t feel right. Besides the fact that his body ached, there was something not drug induced happening in his middle. This warmth, tingling that started just at his navel and reached lower. And no, he wasn’t going to puke again—how fucking embarrassing was that?—and it wasn’t nerves. It was reminiscent of the tingle in his hand from losing circulation, only… Only, this felt good. Like aroused, good.
    God .
    His new friend opened his mouth to speak but Tristan interrupted. “You can lose the press-on fangs already, dude. And, seriously, what’s up with the contacts? Purple, really? Super manly.” Sure, Tristan was being childish, petty, but he’d had a pretty rough night.
    The man snapped his mouth shut and touched fingers to his lips. In a huff, he climbed out of the car without saying a word and slammed the door behind him to leave Tristan groaning and clutching his pounding head.
    That proved one thing, that Tristan was not hallucinating.
    “Damn,” he sighed. After a moment of gathering himself, he chanced getting up. The overhead light was nearly blinding, the outside air colder than he remembered. He smacked his lips, his mouth tasted tart. His body was stiff yet he felt disconnected from it. He’d definitely been drugged, question was, with what? Guess it didn’t really matter anymore—he was still alive. He stood out of the car to his full height and swayed when his vision went blurry for a moment. He reached out and rested his forehead on the edge of the car roof between his hands for a moment, trying to catch his breath in long, slow mouthfuls.
    The crunch of gravel behind him made Tristan look up. It was still dark out, but the sky was starting to bleed faint orange where the sun awakened for the day. There were dark cutouts in the background, trees against huge mountains that hovered overhead. Except for the large, single story home and the car port further down the driveway, there was nothing else in their secluded little part of Akita. No homes, no lights, no cars. No one. They weren’t even near the city anymore. Oh yay, just him and the weird dude in the cape.
    “Hey,” Tristan called out, immediately regretting it as his eardrums rebelled against the noise of his own voice. “Where the hell did you bring me?” The Bates Motel?
    The stranger didn’t even bother looking back. He just went inside, leaving the front door open behind him. Tristan scoffed and looked to his car. He was seriously considering just leaving. But the need to know who— what Shizuka was, was stronger than his other wants. God, could he even call her Shizuka? Did zombies have names? Everything in the club alleyway really did happen, right? The annoying guy with the cape was real enough anyway. And he had Tristan’s keys.
    “Bastard,” Tristan grumbled and stopped to take one last calming breath, to no avail. He groaned and went inside. He stopped when he found his host standing just inside, one step up, arms crossed over chest and wearing a glum expression. After a moment of staring, his dark expression broke as a slight smile slipped through. “Come in.”
    And then the other man was turning away, leaving Tristan to scramble after him.