Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Life Forgotton ❯ An Annoying Itch ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Her leg was itchy. She moaned quietly, her head was throbbing for some unknown reason and she knew, the moment she opened her eyes the gentle pain she was feeling would be magnified to a much greater intensity.

She went to move her hand to resolve the irritation her leg was causing and was shocked to find her hands tightly bound together. This discovery made the threat of an impending migraine seem trivially and her eyes snapped open.

Instantly her senses were overwhelmed with an array of unfamiliar surroundings and sounds, which until that moment, she had paid no heed to, believing she must have left the TV on the night before.


TV...a word that was so familiar, and yet somehow, felt so foreign in her current environment.


There were people everywhere. She found that she, along with several other females were lying on what appeared to be a wooden stage in the middle of a very busy market place.


“What the fuck?” she muttered as she half sat up, her eyes slowly following a young boy running with two headless chickens in his hand being chased closely by a very fat and angry man. Her gaze fell to what appeared to be a soldier of some sort leaning lazily against a fence that was enclosing the only empty space in the area. She blinked rapidly as she could've sworn she saw a tail flick side to side behind him.


A girl beside her suddenly burst into loud hysterical sobs, drawing her attention to the surroundings closest to her. There were around twenty women, who like herself had their hands bound tightly. To her disgust she noticed that they were all wearing the same style of dirty makeshift dress, which in high probability had once been a sack and someone had simply cut out holes for their heads and arms.

The continuous crying to her left was making the throbbing in her head almost unbearable and she turned to the girl hoping she would be able to offer some form of comfort, and in turn stop the high pitched sobs.


“Hey,” she whispered gently, “What's your name?” The question, unfortunately, brought on an onslaught of even louder sobs, and for a second she had to close her eyes in an attempt to combat the sharp stabbing pain that shot through her head.


Taking a deep breath she once again opened her eyes and turned to the girl. “Calm down, alright. It's not that bad.” She smiled ruefully to herself, not that bad, ha! That was a joke, she had no idea where she was, her hands were bound, her leg was still itchy and try as she might she couldn't remember her life before today.


“Where am I?” the sobbing girl asked between loud sniffs.


“I don't know, honestly, but we're not dead and we're not hurt, so whoever these people are, obviously they want us alive. But if you keep crying like that I can almost guarantee that they'll get annoyed and then... and then I don't know what's gonna happen to you.”


The girl shot her a dirty look but her sobbing subsided to the occasional sniff in between breaths.


Thank Kami for that, she thought and then paused for a second. Kami, another word that seemed so familiar and yet so foreign at the same time. Sighing she put the thought to the back of her mind, her head was still hurting too much for any thinking that required too much complexity. “So, what's your name?” She asked the girl again.


The girl sniffed loudly. “I don't know, I can't remember.” She looked at her with eyes still brimming with tears. “Do you remember your name?”


“Of course I do! It's...” She paused for a second, this was ridiculous! How could she not know her own name, everybody knew her name, her family had been extremely well know. At least, she felt like they had been.

B...her name began with a 'B', of that she was certain. Shaking her head in the hope that these hidden memories would be released, she instead shook free a strand of aqua hair from the clip that had been holding it back . Slowly she moved both her bound hands up to gently touch it. Bul....ma.. She smiled, yes, that was it. Her name was Bulma.

Bulma opened her mouth to convey the information to the girl but was interrupted by an extremely loud whistle. She, like all the other women, slowly forced herself to sit up and scanned the stage for the source of the sound.


She gasped out loud when she saw the large thing that was in possession of the whistle. His body looked like it was made of grey rubber, he was big but she could see no muscle definition, the entire bulk of his body just seemed to hang as if the blood that flowed through him was too heavy to be properly supported by his skin. His eyes were gold and cat like and a mass of curly black hair fell to his shoulders. He was dressed in a white shirt and loose brown pants which were held up by a belt from which hung a sword. She looked at the sword in interest. It's hilt was silver and she could see three sapphires embedded into it. The blade ended at the man's knees and had an eerie blue glow to it.

He put the whistle in his pocket and walked up the row of frightened females. “All of you are my property.” He barked, “ You may think, that you do not belong to me, you may even think, that somewhere, once, you led different lives. I can assure you however, that this is not the case. You are slaves, and have always been slaves.”


“That's not true!” A women, at the other end screamed.


The man slowly walked over to her. “Oh?” he asked, a very dangerous look in his eyes. “tell me then, slave, what is your name?”


The woman began to cry, “I don't know.” she sobbed.


“Only slaves do not have names, because slaves are not worth a name.” His voice grew angry as he proceeded to once again walk along the stage. “If you think that you have a name, please, by all means tell me.”


The girl next to Bulma struggled to sit up further. “She remembers her name.” She said, tilting her head towards Bulma.


The man walked over to them and squatted in front of Bulma, pulling her close. “So tell me, pretty, what is your name?”


Bulma shivered, ice seemed to run through her body from where his hands touched her. She looked in his eyes and realized that now was not the time to share her recent revaluation. She tried to pull back from his tight grasp on her arms. “I don't know.” she said in almost a whisper.


“Yes she does!” the girl next to her cried, “she was about to tell me before you started talking.”


Bulma glared at the girl, what the hell was this bitch's problem? The man shook her hard. “What is your name?” He growled at her again. “And this time you better not lie to me.”


“I don't fucking know what my name is!” Bulma screeched at him. “I don't know what she's on about!”


The man threw her roughly to the ground, towering above her he smiled cruelly. “Are you sure?”


“Yes I'm fucking sure.” The desperation for him to believe her was evident in her voice. “I can make up a name for you, if it's that important for you to hear me say a name.”


The man looked at Bulma and then to the girl next to her, his hand slowly reaching to his sword. Bulma held her breath, refusing to close her eyes even though her mind was begging her too.

In one swift motion the man pulled out his sword and stabbed it through the other girls chest, the force of the blow caused droplets of blood to land on Bulma who bit her tongue to keep from screaming. Tears ran down her face, her lie had cost this poor girl her life.

The man wiped his blade on the dead girls dress and resumed his pacing up and down the stage as if nothing had happened. “To lie to ones master is one of the ultimate sins, it is not tolerated. All of you would do well to remember this.” He paused for a moment, allowing what had just happened to sink in. “In about an hours time the slave markets will be opened officially, and I suggest that you all be on your best behaviour, in the hope of catching the eye of a new master. I have more than enough slaves to sell at other locations, and those of you who remain at the end of the day will be disposed of.”