Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Broken Seal ❯ The Tedium of Elysium ( Prologue )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Okay! Everything after chapter 11 is brand new stuff. Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z, or any of the characters therein.

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Krillin's point like pupils peered out across the battlefield from beneath his furrowed brow. A glistening bead of sweat formed on his left temple as he beheld his formidable adversaries. Two demonic creatures, coated in pink, scaly skin, their heads crowned by single, lustrous black horns, were poised before him. Both stared deep into his unyielding eyes as they attempted to anticipate the small Earth man's next move.

A cool gust of wind washed across the tense scene, causing Krillin to shiver, but not for a moment was his glare broken. The breeze had unsettled one of the creatures, its enormous frame flinching as the current caught it unawares. The second creature glanced across nervously at his companion, sensing his anxiety.

Krillin's face maintained its stony expression, but within, the fighter's confidence was growing. He could see the fear in the fiery red eyes of his enemies, and soon it would be time to end the battle. Inhaling deeply, he prepared to play his trump card. The eyes of both grotesque beasts widened as they sensed the change within the warrior, and they realised that their fate was at hand. Slowly, a wicked smirk began to crawl across Krillin's face as the time approached for him to deal the final blow. In an instant, he thrust his hands high above his head released his fury with a mighty battle cry,

"Royal flush!" he proclaimed, slapping his cards down face up on the green felt surface of the table. A smug grin now graced Krillin's visage.

"Damn it!" snarled the creature to his right, slamming down his losing hand in frustration. Krillin's cards leapt a couple of inches of the table as if startled by the creature's wrath. The second beast simply sighed. "You win again." it said, wearily.

Krillin rose from his seat and stretched his arms out above his head, yawning as he did. He didn't bother to claim the spoils of war, a six-inch high pile of chips in the middle of the table.

"You guys should work on your poker faces." He chuckled, recovering from the yawn. "Anyways, I think its time I was heading on home."

"Aww, c'mon Krillin." Whined the monster on the right, his protest ringing out across the beautiful, endless meadow, the setting of the contest, "I'm just getting warmed up. One more game, huh?"

"Heh heh, sorry guys." Krillin replied, rubbing the back of his head and itching to leave, "I've gotta get home to feed the dog. Besides, I'm beat. What is that now, four hundred games?"

"Na-a-ah!" replied the creature, shaking his head vigorously, "Three hundred fifty, tops."

"Oh, do be quiet Kroth." The second creature scolded, "Honestly. You're such a sore loser." He turned to Krillin and smiled, exposing two flawless rows of razor sharp fangs. "We'll see you around Krillin." He said cheerfully.

"See you guys." Krillin smiled. He turned away from the card table, and looked out across the idyllic meadow. Gently rolling hills stretched off to an unattainable horizon. Long blades of lush blue grass swayed to the music of the eternal summer breeze, sheltered by an untainted pink sky. The setting was perfect. everything here was perfect.

Krillin drew upon some of his Ki, and was instantly engulfed in blaze of white hot energy. With a little effort, he launched himself skyward, the resulting blast of air throwing the contents of the card table up on to the bickering demons. Without a backward glance, Krillin left the pair, drawing out trail of superheated air as he embarked on his journey home.

The warrior's energy divided the otherwise clear skies as he arced across the heavens. As he did, he cast his gaze downwards the utopian world below. There Krillin saw children frolicking with long lost pets, couples old and young dancing to the love songs of their time, audible only to themselves, and families spanning numerous generations chattering the talking points of centuries.

It had been several months since the nefarious Frieza had cruelly robbed Krillin of his mortal existence. As with his previous journey to the afterlife, he had been readily accepted into the bosom of eternal bliss. Having essentially lead two lives of courage and sacrifice, the authorities here were only too happy to reward the ill fated fighter. Initially, Krillin had refused to leave the vicinity of the checkpoint. For days he had lingered at the doors of King Yemma's office like a fretting dog, fearing that his friends Goku, Picollo and Gohan may not be far behind him. His peers did not arrive however, and ominously neither did Frieza.

And so, with a reluctant resignation, Krillin was now attempting to enjoy the perks of heaven's endless rapture. Indeed, the deceased fighter liked this perfect world well enough, but as he cruised above the sprawling fields of elysium, only a single thought occurred to him; Man, I'm bored. For all that this place held pleasures to stimulate the mind and enrich the soul, these things were little more than empty distractions to Krillin.

He recalled the final days of his existence on the mortal plane. In that brief time, he had lived from moment to moment fearing constantly for his own safety, and that of his comrades. Having eaten little, and slept even less, he had been running purely on adrenaline. His heart had pounded violently within his chest as a wild animal attempting to escape a snare. There were times when he had thought it might. This feeling was indescribable. No yesterday. No tomorrow. Only now.

Things were different here, however. Here there were infinite yesterdays, and endless tomorrows. There was no fear and no suffering, but equally there were no causes to fight and no evil to thwart. Krillin's existence here was meaningless, and it was a fact that had worn on his mind since his arrival.

Krillin's route took him over a small wood. The sparse, green blanket stretched less than quarter of a mile, and lay draped across the foot of a gently sloping hill. The grass that grew from the landform swayed gently from side to side producing the illusion that the hill was breathing, a snoozing giant who's brow was protected from the light of the sunless sky by a small wooden cottage. This was Krillin's beautiful home in this perfect realm.

Krillin slowed, and descended gently to the ground. The dry blades of grass hissed and rustled at his feet as they sank into the foliage. Now grounded, he strode the front door of his home, pushing the stalks of grass aside as they tapped and prodded at his legs as if vying for his attention. The building before him was short in stature, much like its inhabitant, with a slated roof that kissed the swooning grass at its edges. Krillin placed his hand against the wooden door and pushed it aside. Entering, he was greeted by the rich smell of dried pine. Krillin looked about. The cottage had only a single room, equipped with all the comforts the warrior needed. Bed, TV, wardrobe and kitchen area all stood against the cottages four walls, with a table and chair sited at the centre. But Krillin was not inspecting for furniture.

"Bobo!" he called, "Bobo!" he repeated the call, this time following it with several short, sharp whistles which reverberated through the cottage, and out over the slopes of the rolling hill. This second address was greeted with raucous barking from beyond the surrounding walls. Krillin turned just in time to see a great slobbering mass of brown and white fur bounding up the hill towards him. Getting down on one knee and spreading his arms, Krillin prepared to receive the incoming canine. "C'mon boy!" he shouted.

In an instant the animal, a ninety-pound Saint Bernard, burst through the door and leapt upon its waiting master. The two tumbled backwards, sending the once neatly arranged furniture flying into the back of the cottage. Krillin laughed and coughed simultaneously as the beast ran its coarse, saliva sodden tongue across his face repeatedly, nearly suffocating him in the process.

"Okay! Okay! Down boy, down!" he scolded, but with very little venom.

With some gentle shoving, Krillin eventually freed himself from Bobo's enthusiastic embrace and stood upright. Dusting the dog hair from his bright red outfit, he turned towards the kitchen area of his home.

" I suppose we had better get you fed." He said, to which the slathering Bobo barked his approval. Krillin then turned his attention to the overturned table, and to the chair that now stood on his bed. "But first, I think we should tidy up."

With the task of straightening out the furniture completed, Krillin made his way to the kitchen to feed Bobo. The kitchen was composed of a short work-surface with several cupboards hanging from the walls above, and a small refrigerator was nestled beneath. The whole area was lit up by a square window, which was neatly adorned with red checked curtains. Krillin reached up, opened one of the cupboards, and extracted a can from amid the jumbled assortment of foods and condiments. He looked down at the label.

"How do you feel about Chicken, boy?" Krillin queried, glancing down at his childhood, and now afterlife companion. Bobo tilted his head and emitted grumbling whine. "Hmmm, not interested huh? Well, lets see what we can do." Krillin looked down at the tin in his hand once more. Then, clearing his mind, he began to will the tin to change. At first, nothing happened. But slowly, as Krillin's intensified his will, the paper label began to alter. The crimson background shifted at an ever-increasing rate through the shades. First pink, then through various hews of purple before finally coming to rest at a rich royal blue. Also, the foreground design changed. The cartoon chicken that had graced the container was now replaced by an equally comical cow.

"There, now. How's about beef then, fella?" Krillin asked Bobo, who had been sitting patiently at his side. The dog emitted a contented bark, and swept the ground his great mop of a tail. His master smiled and then took a can opener from a drawer at his waste.

The ability to alter his surroundings through will power was a technique Krillin had picked up from the handbook for newly deceased souls he'd been given at the check in station. Having been unable to keep the copy he had been given on his first visit, he had spent the first couple of weeks relearning all the perks and peculiarities of the other side.

With Bobo now feeding happily, and noisily, from a large red bowl on the floor, Krillin turned his attention to his own sustenance. Bending down, he opened the door the refrigerator and began to rummage through the contents. Stretching his arm to the back of the frosty cabinet, he grasped an ice cool bottle of milk. He extracted it and placed it on the counter above. Krillin then set about the task of picking out his meal.

As he did he noticed an odd sound. A gentle rumbling, it was barely audible above the busy humming of the fridge and the frantic scraping of Bobo's plastic bowl on the pine floor. Ceasing his activities for a moment, Krillin listened carefully. He detected nothing. Dismissing it as his imagination, he returned to the task in hand. A moment later however, the sound emerged once more. This time it asserted itself above the ambient sounds, enough to attract the attention of both Krillin and Bobo. Bobo raised his head from his meal to better receive the mysterious noise. Krillin pulled his head from the refrigerator doorway and looked over his shoulder to the spooked dog.

"What d'ya suppose that was, boy?" Krillin asked Bobo.

The hound replied with an anxious whine. Standing up, Krillin looked out through the window. He glanced skywards scoured the heavens for the thick black clouds that might be indicative of thunder. However, he found only the same endless pink expanse he had seen every day - and night - he had spent in the afterlife. Krillin cocked an eyebrow, adopting a quizzical expression. Within a second of this, the thunderous rumbling arose once more. This time, the intensity was far greater, causing the ground to shake violently beneath the cottage. The rumbling subsided, but there was only a short respite before the sound once more erupted from beyond the walls. The entire edifice convulsed and groaned, crying out in pain as its infrastructure was warped and twisted by the vibrations. Containers were spewed from the cupboards by the fierce cramping of the cottage walls, and furniture was toppled as the floor heaved beneath it.

Krillin yelped as he was thrown onto his back by the quivering ground. Once more, the sound died away and the walls and supports creaked a sigh of relief as their ordeal came to an end. Leaping to his feet, Krillin made a dash for the door. Deftly he dodged broken jars and dented tins, and hurdled over the toppled furniture. He was determined to find the cause of the disturbance before it brought his home down around his ears. Grabbing the steel doorknob, Krillin flung the door aside and emerged into the open air.

As Krillin thrust himself into the outside world, he instantly noticed a difference from before. The air was warm and tasted bitter from the dust disturbed by the commotion. The taste was familiar. it was the taste of battle.

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To be continued. da-da-daaaa!