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“Kinn, watch out, right behind you!” Porsche shouted, unable to reach his lover, having to fight off a zombie himself. Kinn was just a few meters farther down the alley.
Shit!
Porsche quickly drove his military knife into the undead’s head—at the back of the skull, to sever the spinal cord. He still hated that feeling when the tip of the blade sank into flesh like butter and then hit the bone with a sickening crack. But his disgust weighed little when his survival was at stake.
The zombie let out a guttural growl before going still. Porsche felt it collapse against him. He shoved the corpse off, and it fell on the ground, inanimate. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his sleeve. Exhaustion was catching up with him, but there was no time to rest. He sprinted toward Kinn, who had already managed to take down one of the two zombies targeting him. He was now on the defensive, blocking the relentless, aggressive attacks of the second undead with the iron bar he was using as a melee weapon. Porsche tightened his grip around the knife. A single well-placed stab to the back of the neck, just like he had done with his own zombie, and it was all over.
“You okay?” Porsche asked, inspecting Kinn for any sign of injury. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”
Kinn shook his head. “No, thanks to you. That was close.”
Porsche let out a sigh of relief, and then pulled him into a tight embrace. He knew how reckless it was to let his guard down now, in such an exposed place, but he could not help himself. He had almost lost Kinn. What would have become of him if it had really happened? He did not want a world without Kinn, especially not this kind of post-apocalyptic world, straight out of a horror movie… Just imagining such a miserable future made him feel devastated…
Second after second, fear grew inside him until his whole body was shaking.
“Hey, I told you I’m fine,” his lover whispered, gently rubbing his back.
“I know… It’s just…”
He would never finish that sentence. His throat was too tight. He could feel tears threatening to spill at the thought of what had nearly happened. Every day, it was the same thing. Despite all their precautions, danger always found them in the end. They had both survived this time, but what about the next? And the one after that?
“I get it,” Kinn said, his voice full of patience. “But we have to keep moving, Porsche. More zombies could show up any minute. I need you to hold on until we reach the safe house, okay?”
Porsche took a deep breath as he forced himself to end the embrace.
He’s right, this isn’t the time to break down…
He nodded in response. He was afraid that his voice would tremble as much as his body if he spoke another word… Kinn cupped the back of his head and kissed his forehead, as if to promise him that everything would be alright. Strangely, it was enough to calm him down.
“Come on, follow me, we’re almost there,” his lover concluded, looking pleased.
They ventured deeper into the alley, staying away from the main streets, where hordes of undead roamed. Kinn had not lied. After twenty minutes of slow, cautious walking, they finally reached the building that hid the hideout: a bookstore.
The door was locked, but Kinn used his skills to open it without making a sound. There was not a soul inside. The place was probably of little interest to either survivors or zombies. Kinn led Porsche into the back room. There, he revealed a sliding trapdoor—disguised as a low cabinet stacked with papers and supplies. It led down to a large furnished basement.
As soon as they finished descending the stairs, Porsche’s knees gave out. He let himself fall limply onto the luxurious carpet that covered two-thirds of the living area. Kinn did not laugh at him; quite the opposite, in fact. Looking worried, he knelt in front of him and stroked his hair.
“Rough day, huh?”
Porsche gave a weak nod. To be honest, every day had been rough lately. He and Kinn were cut off from the rest of the family, with no way to get any news. Fate had it that they had been attending a gala on the other side of town the night everything fell apart. When they had tried calling during the hotel evacuation, the networks were already overloaded. Later, both the internet and mobile network had simply stopped working…
If only they had made it back to the Main Family’s residence that night… But traffic had quickly become a chaotic mess, forcing them to go on foot to the nearest safe house with the few bodyguards assigned to their protection. Every new outing since then had been another gamble, moving from one hideout to another in the hope of getting closer to their final destination. More than once, they had advanced only to retreat when the streets ahead proved blocked… Their firearms had done more harm than good, drawing every zombie within earshot at the slightest shot. One by one, bad encounters after worse, they had lost each one of their bodyguards. Now, they had only each other to rely on…
Porsche knew deep down that their goal was out of reach. There was a reason why everyone avoided big cities in zombie stories. With such a high population density, the epidemic had spread through Bangkok like wildfire. Most survivors had either fled the city or barricaded themselves in their homes. You had to be crazy to walk the streets like Kinn and him. Even so, Porsche could not bring himself to give up. It drove him insane to be separated from his little brother and his mother, to be unable to watch over them in these chaotic times… He kept telling himself that they were safe with the rest of the family, that they were probably fine. But really, what did he know…? Maybe the zombies had invaded the residence… Maybe he and Kinn were heading straight into the aftermath of a massacre…
“How about a hot bath to help us relax?” his lover asked with a small smile, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. “We deserve it.”
Porsche was not fooled. He could see that, behind his smile, Kinn was just as exhausted as he was. So he accepted his offer without hesitation, more for Kinn’s sake and well-being than his own. Kinn helped him stand up, and then guided him to the bathroom, where he assisted in removing his protective gear and clothes.
The sound of the duct tape being peeled off—the one wrapped around magazines over his forearms and shins—rang in his ears. Fatigue certainly made him overly sensitive to such unpleasant noises. Soon enough, it triggered a bad headache. Still, he was glad to finally have his arms and legs free. Even though the tape combined with magazines was a practical makeshift protection against zombie bites, having his muscles squeezed like that for hours was a real handicap—especially when he had to run or fight. Kinn had suggested finding a store to get sturdier clothes like jeans or leather jackets, but those shops were unfortunately in areas that were too dangerous. So they made do with what they had.
Once in the luxury bathtub filled with hot water, sitting between Kinn’s thighs and resting against his chest, clean of sweat, grime, and blood, Porsche let out a long sigh of contentment. The safe houses Kinn had them stay in offered a level of comfort most people would have envied in the current situation. Many homes had already lost power due to the damage done by the wave of panic in the early days of the epidemic. But all of the Theerapanyakun family’s safe houses ran on private generators and lacked nothing. If he and Kinn were not so worried about the rest of the family, they could have easily lived for weeks in one of these hideouts, waiting for the army to end the chaos.
“Feeling better?” Kinn asked, gently massaging his temples.
“Uh-huh,” Porsche confirmed, eyes closed. “I’d almost forget how shitty it is out there…”
“Good. Don’t think about it for now; it won’t do you any good. We’re safe here, and that’s all that matters.”
With that, Kinn planted multiple kisses on the back of his neck. Little by little, Porsche felt his mood shift. A small voice in his head told him now was not the time to think about this, but his body clearly disagreed. It was not surprising. Kinn knew his erogenous zones like no one else. When he set his mind on turning him on, Porsche could rarely resist him for more than a few minutes. Those soft kisses were the promise of a pleasure with which he was very familiar.
Kinn’s hands left his temples to explore the rest of his body. One slid down his chest, long fingers teasing his left nipple, circling it like a predator playing with its prey. The other plunged into the foamy water to rest on his right thigh, dangerously close to his groin. Kinn kept kissing his neck, moving up millimeter by millimeter until he reached his ear.
“What do you say? Should I stop, or keep going?”
His tone was playful, but Porsche knew the question was serious. If he did not want to, Kinn would not insist… despite his hard erection pressing against Porsche’s back.
“Keep going… Touch me more…” he replied, his breath quick and uneven.
It was not reasonable… Well, had he ever been when it came to Kinn? He should have wanted nothing more than sleep in a cozy bed, yet the exhaustion that had weighed him down all day suddenly felt far away. Maybe Kinn felt the same? They had not been intimate since the outbreak began… What if it was exactly what they both needed? Was it so wrong to forget the horrors outside for a little while…?
Kinn started nibbling and sucking on his earlobe. His left hand gently tugged at the nipple it had been toying with earlier, while his right hand caressed Porsche’s half-hard cock before wrapping around it. By reflex, Porsche bit his lower lip, refusing to let out a single moan.
“It’s just the two of us here, Porsche…” Kinn whispered in his ear as he rubbed himself against him. “Let me hear how much you like it…”
And, as always when his lover made such a request, he gave in. He timidly opened his mouth, and the most embarrassing sounds then escaped his throat. As a reward, Kinn picked up the pace around his now fully hardened cock. Porsche arched his back in response, pushing his hips forward.
Instinctively, his muscles tensed with pleasure, reigniting all the aches the hot bath had eased. This could have ruined the mood, but it did not. The need burning inside him was too strong for him to listen to his body’s complaints. Caught in a whirlwind of sensations, he was even about to beg Kinn to fuck him right then without any preparation when suddenly… everything stopped.
“Wait, what’s that?” Kinn asked in a concerned voice before Porsche even had time to protest. He immediately let go of Porsche’s cock and brushed aside his wet hair, running a finger along a spot near his left ear. “Did you scratch yourself?”
“Huh, what? No, I don’t think so… What is it?”
All the pleasure that had consumed him a second ago vanished like smoke, replaced by a heavy knot in his stomach. What the hell was Kinn talking about? What was he seeing?
“You have a thin red line right here. Not deep, so it didn’t bleed much, but it’s a little swollen. Looks recent, at first glance. You don’t feel anything when I press on it?”
He had not paid attention to it until then because his body was sore all over, but when he focused on that exact spot, he did indeed feel a faint sting. A little tingle right where Kinn was pressing.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he left the comfort of the hot water and his lover’s touch, standing up to get out of the tub.
“Porsche, what are you doing?” Kinn exclaimed, clearly startled.
“What am I doing?! I want to see this damn injury for myself, that’s what I’m doing!”
Porsche moved in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to find a good angle. Unfortunately, no matter how much he turned his head or adjusted his ear, the mark stayed out of sight. He tried to recall the day’s events, especially his encounters with zombies, but his memories were a mess—too blurry, too confused. He had often acted on instinct rather than observation. So he could not say for sure that none of those damn undead had gotten close enough to scratch him…
In truth, he was not even sure if this disease could be transmitted that way. Everyone he had seen turn into zombies had been bitten first. The unlucky ones who died under the relentless attacks of these monsters came back to life only to adopt the same behavior. The lucky ones who managed to escape after being bitten were not much better off, as they developed a deadly fever that eventually killed them and brought them back as aggressive beings too. Could a simple scratch cause a deadly infection? Maybe, maybe not. In the face of uncertainty, he could only fear the worst…
Kinn, who had just joined him in front of the mirror, pressed against his back and wrapped his arms around him. When Porsche stiffened in response, he gently rubbed his nose against his cheek, as if to soothe him.
“Hey… it might be nothing… I could’ve just as easily done that to you while I was washing your hair. Look at my nails. I was actually thinking I should cut them soon.”
He showed Porsche his left hand, whose nails were not that long—in his opinion.
“You don’t look convinced,” Kinn noted.
“Because I’m not…” he retorted, turning his gaze away to avoid meeting his lover’s eyes in the mirror. “I don’t understand why you’re taking this so lightly… I told you I have NO IDEA how I got that mark…”
“Exactly. You don’t know. And I’ll add that we don’t even know if a zombie scratch would have the same effect as a bite. Why jump straight to the worst-case scenario?”
“Because your life is on the line!” Porsche snapped.
He gripped the edges of the sink to channel his anger. If he listened to himself, he would smash that damn mirror… which would not help at all. His rage was just the expression of his fear and despair. The last thing he wanted was to be a threat to Kinn.
“That’s what we’re supposed to do in situations like these: assume the worst,” he went on despite the lump forming in his throat. “What will you do if I’m infected and turn into one of those things in the middle of the night? What will you do when you wake up in pain because I’ve started eating you alive…?”
Kinn’s embrace grew stronger. Only then did Porsche notice the slight tremors in his lover.
Ah… You’re pretending to be calm and reasonable, but you’re scared too, right…?
This realization helped him calm down a little. He understood perfectly how Kinn must feel at the thought of losing him… If their roles were reversed, he would also prefer to have blinders on and act like everything was fine. But ignoring the problem would not make it disappear…
He turned to face Kinn and returned his embrace. As his anger slowly faded, exhaustion came rushing back. He did not want to argue—especially not if this was one of their last moments together.
“Let’s at least take precautions for tonight…” he sighed, offering a compromise. “You can lock me in a room or gag me… If my condition starts getting worse, then we’ll know…”
“… Okay, let’s do that. But first, we should disinfect your wound. Take some antibiotics, too. There should be some for emergencies in the medicine cabinet.”
A heavy silence filled the room as Kinn gathered the necessary supplies and placed them on the sink. He cleaned the scratch quickly, dabbing a compress soaked in disinfectant on the area before covering it with a bandage. His touch was gentle, but his demeanor remained distant.
“Even if it itches or bothers you, try not to touch it,” he advised in a neutral voice.
Porsche only nodded, his heart sinking. It hurt to see Kinn wear that mask of indifference, but he understood his reasons. It was his way of coping with the reality that Porsche had made him face.
It’s better this way…
He took the pills his lover handed him, popped them into his mouth, and drank from the faucet to swallow them. Deep down, he hoped it was just a simple scratch…
It was itching behind his ear.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
He heard the sound before he even realized what he had just done. Kinn had told him not to touch the area, yet here he was. He could not help himself.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
He was standing in front of the mirror, still unable to see his wound. What did it look like now? When he touched it, it felt much more swollen. And why did he have the odd sensation that something was moving under his skin?
Scratch scratch scratch.
Something had gotten under his fingernails. A piece of skin? Maybe he had scratched a bit too hard… Despite the urge to keep scratching, he brought his hand in front of his eyes to take a good look at his nails.
“AH!”
Porsche’s eyes flew open. On reflex, he touched the area behind his ear: the bandage was still there. Confused, he began to scan the dark room. That was when he realized he was not in the bathroom, but lying in the large bed in the bedroom… with Kinn beside him. He brought his hand to his mouth in alarm, remembering the loud cry he had just let out. Fortunately, the makeshift gag he had put on before going to sleep to cover his mouth was still in place. He exhaled sharply through his nose, relieved. It had all been a bad dream.
A shiver ran down his spine, the image of the mass of white worms squirming beneath his nails still vivid in his mind. He pressed a finger against the bandage. The tingling sensation had not gone away, but at least nothing seemed to be moving underneath. He could not tell if it was more swollen than before. Other than that, he did not feel sick, which was rather reassuring. Maybe it really was a mere scratch?
It’s too early to be sure…
“What woke you up?” Kinn suddenly asked, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Does it hurt? Do you want some anti-inflammatories?”
Porsche answered with a sound that very clearly meant no. What a great idea to ask him questions when he was gagged…
“Ah, I forgot about that detail… Don’t you want to take it off for a moment? I only want to make sure everything’s okay.”
Porsche agreed, since he was not feverish for now. It would indeed be more convenient for having a conversation.
“I just had a nightmare…” he admitted after removing the gag.
“What kind of nightmare?”
“The kind that makes you wanna puke. The sooner I forget it, the better!”
Kinn gently pulled him closer. “Then forget it and lie back down. I’ll watch over you to keep the nightmares away.”
Porsche was surprised by how affectionate Kinn was acting, considering the distance he had kept from him all evening, both during dinner and when they had gone to bed. He would have paid a lot to be able to read his mind right now…
Porsche himself no longer knew what he wanted. He had thought it would be better for Kinn to distance himself, to protect himself from whatever might happen… yet the idea of dying alone, rejected, without the slightest sign of affection, depressed him terribly. If these were to be his last hours, he wanted to spend them feeling comforted in the arms of the man he loved.
He ran his fingers over each of his nails. It was mostly for reassurance—he had already checked their length before going to sleep. Kinn had clipped them so short that he would not be able to scratch anything even if he tried. Satisfied, he put the gag back on and lay down again to curl up against his lover, who wrapped him tightly in his arms. His half-naked body radiated such comforting warmth that Porsche felt all his tension melt away.
“Good night, my love,” Kinn whispered after kissing his forehead.
Porsche replied with a small sound that meant “you too.”
The next time he woke up, the mere act of blinking was so painful that he chose to keep his eyes closed. Not only did he not feel even slightly rested, but he felt like he had been run over by a truck. The soreness in his muscles had gotten worse, to the point where the faintest movement was torture. There was a burning sensation around the wound on his neck, one that seemed to spread toward the rest of his head like the threads of a spiderweb. Despite his uncooperative muscles, he lifted his hand to the bandage, tempted to scratch. But something stopped him.
“That won’t help you,” Kinn told him as he intertwined their fingers, bringing Porsche’s hand back between them.
Porsche groaned in frustration, yet he did not try to pull away. He was too tired for that. Besides, he was conscious enough to know that resisting would only cause more pain.
Something cool suddenly touched his forehead. Kinn’s other hand?
“You seem to have a bit of a fever,” Kinn noted. “I’d like to take a look at your wound, if you’ll let me. Is it okay if I turn on a light?”
Porsche answered with a very slight nod, which he regretted immediately. All he wanted was to go back to sleep and hope to feel better later. But he was not stupid. No doubt later would be even worse…
Kinn untangled their fingers and seemed to fumble around him for something—probably his phone. When the light appeared, Porsche burrowed even more against Kinn’s chest to escape it.
“It won’t take long,” his lover promised while stroking his hair. He then carefully removed the bandage covering the wound. The entire area throbbed in response, making Porsche clench his teeth hard. “It’s pretty swollen. I guess it hurts even when I’m not touching it?”
He let out a groan that counted as a yes. The less he moved his head, the better.
“I’ll take that as a yes… For now, it looks like a severe inflammation to me. Your skin is tight and your veins are a bit raised, but nothing alarming. No purple discoloration, no pus around the scar either.”
Nothing alarming…? It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself… Don’t be silly… We both know what’s going to happen…
“I’ll get you an anti-inflammatory. It should help with both the pain and the fever. But you’d better take more antibiotics, and we should disinfect the wound again just in case.”
If Porsche had been able to, he would have rolled his eyes. This was ridiculous. Even if the progression was slower than what they had seen so far, the current state of his wound made it obvious that he would suffer the same fate as every other victim of the zombie infection. A simple scratch would never have escalated like this otherwise… Why did Kinn insist on believing he could cure him…?
His lover moved away, and with him went the pleasant coolness of his body. Faced with that loss, Porsche almost let out a pitiful whine. At least the room was dark again, sparing him the trouble of searching for a new refuge for his poor sensitive eyes.
“Don’t scratch. I’ll be back in two minutes,” Kinn said as he grabbed his hands and pressed them together.
Porsche obeyed. He clasped his hands tightly to go against what his instincts demanded. Those two minutes felt endless…
Kinn soon returned, bringing with him a sliver of light from the hallway. He had left the door open on purpose, no doubt because it would have been difficult to do anything precise in the dark. It was tolerable, as long as Porsche did not look toward the door. It was still less horrible to bear than a phone light.
Kinn helped him into a semi-sitting position, and then removed the gag covering his mouth. Porsche took the opportunity to speak: “Kinn…”
“Not now,” Kinn replied.
When, then…? When I’m no longer able to hold a coherent conversation…?
Normally, Porsche would not have hesitated to challenge his authority. He would have yelled at him until that idiot accepted the inevitable. But right now? He did not have the energy. Kinn could delude himself all he wanted, the outcome would be the same. Sooner or later, he would have no choice but to put an end to Porsche’s existence…
After putting the few pills in his mouth, his lover tilted a glass of water to his lips. Only then did Porsche realize how thirsty he was.
“Hey, drink slowly or you’ll choke!”
What, afraid I’ll die ahead of schedule? That’d save us some time!
He kept those cruel words to himself, of course. Even though Kinn’s behavior irritated him, he would take no pleasure in hurting him.
“Another…” he simply whispered after emptying the glass.
And Kinn, ever helpful, hurried to grant his request.
As the hours went by, his thirst only increased. His appetite, on the other hand, had dropped drastically. Kinn kept trying to convince him to eat something, but the sight and smell of food made him nauseous. His constant headache did nothing to improve the situation. Neither did the fever and the cold sweats that came with it. Everything was going from bad to worse… and yet Kinn was still denying the obvious.
That stubborn idiot was sitting on the edge of the bed, a steaming bowl in one hand and a large spoon filled with something mushy in the other. A little earlier, he had once again removed the gag covering Porsche’s mouth despite his reluctance—and his weak resistance.
“You need to eat to regain some strength. You don’t have to finish a full meal, but at least try to take a few bites. I made you some rice porridge.”
“What’s the point…?” Porsche retorted in a tired voice, turning his head away from the large spoon his lover was trying to put in his mouth. “I’m slowly dying, Kinn, I feel it… I’ve spent the whole day being a wreck, unable to even lift a finger… None of the damn meds you made me swallow have helped me so far…”
“You’re not dying, you’re fighting the disease! Rush, Gap, and the others succumbed in less than four hours. You’ve been showing signs of infection for more than twelve hours now. That must mean something, right?!”
A cynical laugh clawed its way up his throat, but died within seconds, replaced by a choking cough. The pain in his neck was far too intense. Speaking already cost him a lot. Laughing was a luxury he could no longer afford…
“You think I can’t hear the fear in your voice…? You think I don’t notice it in every move you make…? Every time you take off my gag, your hands shake… Same when you change my bandage… You can’t even describe this damn wound with the confidence you had at first…” He was completely drained. Even swallowing sent a spike of pain shooting from his throat to his brain, passing through his ears. But the anger boiling inside him pushed him to go on, “You know what…? Fine, I’ll eat your rice porridge, but on one condition… Show it to me… I want to see what it looks like, this wound that makes me feel sick as a dog… the one you somehow convinced yourself I’d overcome…”
“Porsche…”
“No ‘Porsche’… I’ve listened to you this far, so now you listen to me for once… Take a picture, right now… or I swear I’ll find a way to end my suffering the second you look away…”
Kinn let out a long sigh before setting the bowl of porridge and the spoon on the nightstand. “Alright… Close your eyes. I’ll need to use the flash.”
Porsche complied. He flinched and let out a groan of pain when Kinn lifted the bandage protecting the wound. His tight skin complained at even the slightest touch. He squeezed his eyelids shut, but the flash of light that came from his left managed to slip through and burn his eyes. Once again, he could not hold back a groan. Everything was so painful… When would this finally stop…?
“Here,” Kinn said, placing the phone in his hands. “I lowered the brightness as much as possible. It’s all I can do to make it easier on you…”
Porsche mentally prepared himself for another wave of pain. After a short breath, he opened his eyes again. The screen was unpleasant to look at, unsurprisingly, but it was just as tolerable as the hallway light. He blinked once, twice… Tears gathered fast. He had to wipe his eyes over and over with the back of his weak arm until he could see the picture clearly.
Haha… hahaha… hahahaha…
He had to stifle a nervous laugh because the wound looked absolutely hideous. How could Kinn still think it was treatable?! It no longer looked like a simple scratch. What his lover had described as red and swollen skin several hours ago had become a network of black veins—like very pronounced varicose veins—spreading out like a star from a central point, just like the spiderweb he had imagined when he had first felt that burning sensation. In the middle of it all, the thin red line that was supposed to be the original scar—according to Kinn—had turned into a thick, yellowish split with a hint of green. The wound glistened and oozed, as if filled with pus. Porsche dared not imagine the smell coming from it…
Any sane person would’ve put me down already upon seeing this… Kinn, what the hell are you doing…?
“… If it’s too hard for you, I can do it, you know…? Just give me my gun and I’ll put a bullet in my head…”
“STOP IT!”
Kinn’s shrill voice pierced his ears, intensifying his headache. Porsche slowly curled up and covered his ears with his hands—more out of reflex than necessity. A second later, a cold and trembling hand rested on his curved bare back, caressing it gently.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled,” his lover sighed, his voice clearly charged with emotion. “I know how tired you are, I understand how much you’re suffering right now… but I’m doing everything I can to help you get better, and you… you’ve already given up. You talk about ending your life like it’s nothing. But to me… it’s not. By choosing not to fight, you’re not just abandoning your life, you’re abandoning me too.”
Porsche massaged his temples, hoping to ease even a little of the pain. It felt like his head was in a vise that kept tightening again and again and again. He was starting to wish it would just explode already and finally put an end to his misery.
“… Damn it, face reality…” he answered through gritted teeth, fueling his anger to give himself the strength to act. “Do you think that’s what I want…? To abandon you…? To abandon Chay and my mom…? It’s not enough to want it for everything to get better… You saw my wound, Kinn… At this point, the chances of recovery aren’t just slim, they’re nonexistent… I won’t be the miracle survivor you so desperately want me to become, I assure you… Call it common sense or call it intuition, if you prefer… I’m telling you: I’m doomed…”
After that, Kinn fell silent. Porsche could hear from his breathing how hard he was trying to control his emotions. It broke his heart to hurt the man he loved like this. But he needed Kinn to pull himself together and do what was necessary… for his own future.
His lover eventually left the room without another word. Porsche felt like crying. His heart was beating faster and faster as the fear of dying alone came rushing back. Conflicting thoughts overwhelmed him, torn between wanting Kinn to stay far away from him and wanting to close his eyes for the last time at his side. He did not want to die… He did not want to become one of those monsters… all because of a tiny scratch he did not even remember getting… Why was life so unfair and cruel…?
Even sobbing was torture. As soon as the first tears fell, his throat tightened, sending waves of pain through his neck. It was so intense that he had to resist the urge to tear it out. He could only take small breaths, to the point where he wondered if he might actually die from lack of oxygen. His inner voice screamed at him to call Kinn, but he could not anyway…
Apparently, it was not his time yet… The episode ended after a while, leaving Porsche more exhausted than ever. He used what little strength he had left to shift himself into a better position on the bed, half-lying down with his upper body propped against the pillows resting on the headboard. He risked a glance toward the door: still no sign of Kinn…
He felt cold. That was nothing new. The last few hours had been a cycle of cold and heat. He had always hated getting sick, the effect it had on both body and mind. He did not like feeling this vulnerable—especially since he had taken on the role of head of the Minor Family. As he tiredly pulled the blanket over himself, his eyes drifted to the nightstand, where the bowl—no longer steaming—that his lover had placed there was resting. He still had no appetite. Even so, if Kinn had not left so abruptly, Porsche would have let him feed him, no matter how hard the food would have been to swallow.
He really wanted to keep his end of the bargain. After all, Kinn had taken the risk of showing him the state of his wound, fully aware of the consequences. He had done it out of concern for Porsche, in the hope of getting him to eat. Porsche did not want to make it seem like he had just used him to get what he wanted. He weakly stretched his hand toward the bowl, but it was out of reach.
Pathetic…
That was what he was: pathetic. Something already more dead than alive… Another wave of tears threatened to fall. Defeated, he at least made the effort to put the gag back in place around his jaw before closing his eyes, letting go of frustration in favor of exhaustion. Very quickly, he felt his consciousness slipping away. He was both hoping and fearing that he would never wake up again…
Dreams and reality were blending together. He was no longer sure where the line between one and the other actually was. Kinn was sometimes here with him, sometimes not… In one particularly violent nightmare, Porsche had seen himself devouring him, swallowing his flesh and blood with an insatiable appetite. He had vomited in his mouth the moment he woke up, and would have probably choked on it if Kinn had not reacted quickly enough to take off his gag… Porsche had feebly taken his hand and had refused to let go. He had kept whispering the same words over and over, begging his lover not to leave. Then he had drifted off again, only to wake up alone afterward…
In another nightmare, he had found himself once more in front of that damn mirror showing him an unrecognizable version of himself. His skin had taken on a grayish, even blackish tint at the extremities, as if it were rotting. The area around his wound was more visible now because of the thick black veins spreading all the way up the left side of his face. His gaze was glassy, with no light or soul inside it. He really was a lifeless body already entering the stage of decomposition…
“Shh, shh…” Kinn whispered as he wiped the sweat from his forehead after yet another nightmare.
Porsche let out a breath of relief. In his slow and miserable agony, the only thing that mattered was having him by his side—whether it was an illusion or reality. His time was very close now. Each new blackout could be the last. That was why, after Kinn helped him drink another glass of water, Porsche tried to make his last wish known to him:
“Kinn… Kinn… don’t let me… become one of them…”
I held on as long as I could… It’s over… Even you must see it now… Put an end to all this, please…
“Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” his lover answered in a tender voice. “I’m not leaving you. You can sleep without fear. When they create a cure, everything will go back to normal.”
His heart skipped a beat. “… What… are you talking about…? Kinn… there won’t be… a cure for this… Death… isn’t something you cure…”
Kinn placed a kiss on his forehead, and then picked up the gag to put it back on him. Porsche had no way to resist, and that bastard knew it well. By doing this, he was forcing him into silence.
“I’ve thought about it a lot while you were resting. Truth is, we don’t know much about zombies. Maybe it’s possible to reverse the transformation process.”
“Hmpf… hmpf… hmpf…!”
YOU’VE LOST YOUR DAMN MIND!
“To be honest, I wasn’t planning to tell you… I knew you wouldn’t approve of my decision. But this is my choice to make, Porsche. You’ve chosen to give up, while I’ve chosen to fight. I’ll do it for both of us, if I have to.”
NO, NO, NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!
He thought about all his nightmares, about the horror he was destined to become if Kinn did not finish him off. This was his life, his body. Why did he not get a say in it?!
He tried to fight back. He clung to the bedsheets in an attempt to pull himself free. But Kinn understood his intention and pinned him down against the mattress.
“Don’t make this harder than it already is,” he scolded him, his voice filled with pain. “Fall asleep peacefully and I’ll handle the rest.”
LET GO OF ME, YOU BAS—
A sharp pain in his chest suddenly stole his attention, eclipsing everything else. His heart tightened brutally, knocking the air out of him. A crushing pressure weighed on his torso. He tried to bring his hand to it—a useless reflex, of course—but Kinn was holding both his wrists down firmly. His arms were not obeying him anymore, anyway. All his limbs felt numb, as if they no longer belonged to him.
Everything around him began to spin. Kinn, the entire room, the light coming from the hallway, everything became a blur. He tried to breathe in, but no air came. The edges of his vision darkened. The darkness crawled forward, slow and merciless, consuming everything.
Then he understood: his time had finally come. And it was with a feeling of horror that he accepted it.