Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Broken Seal ❯ The Descent ( Chapter 6 )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: nice-day 
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.17.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 236 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.17.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 236 | Status: Completed
Krillin descended cautiously, the fabric of king Yemma's pocket slowly eclipsing the pink sky as the outside world slowly sank out of view. As he dropped blindly through the gloom Krillin half expected not to find any footing at all, and to have to hang in mid air until an opportunity for escape arose. This was not necessary however, as the fighter's feet soon found a solid purchase. Allowing himself to exhale, Krillin relaxed what little of his ki he had utilised and rested his weight on the bed of his dark refuge.
The fighter was now completely concealed within King Yemma's jacket pocket. The fit was a snug one, and Krillin's head was merely inches from its entrance. Uncomfortable with his proximity to the outside world, the warrior decided to try and submerge yet deeper into the darkness. Krillin knelt down and took a precarious seat, taking great care not to lose his balance on the edge of the car's body, which now supported his weight from outside. There he sat, and waited for the guard's search to end.
A loud slam resonated through the bodywork of the vehicle, giving Krillin an unpleasant jolt in the backside. The guard had finished his thorough examination of the trunk, and was now headed round to Krillin's side of the car. The fighter gritted his teeth and held his breath once more as the rustling of the guard's feet amid the grass became more pronounced. Then silence fell, as the demon drew up directly alongside him.
"I've checked the car, sir, and it's clean." The demon's muffled voice came from beyond the boundaries of Krillin's hiding place.
"Finally." King Yemma sighed in response, "Now, let me through."
"I'm, um. afraid I can't do that. sir." The demon said, hesitantly.
"Damn it, what now!?" Yemma shrieked, a sentiment he shared with the individual who, unbeknownst to him, was concealed on his person.
"I afraid I'll have to ask you to step out of the vehicle, sir. The regulations are quite clear that no one should be allowed access beyond this point without a thorough check of their vehicle and person. " The guard informed Yemma.
Krillin whimpered worriedly under his breath. Discovery now seemed assured. He sat in the darkness, and awaited the inevitable.
"Agh! Forget the goddamn search!" Yemma exclaimed, to the demon's surprise and to Krillin's delight, "Just let me through!"
"B-but sir, the regulations." the demon stuttered before being cut off.
"Those are my regulations and I say forget them! Now let me in before I get really mad!" Yemma commanded.
"Yes, sir. Right away, sir." The demon replied submissively.
His words were followed the crackling of grass stems as he trotted off through the pasture to carry out his orders.
The relief that Krillin felt was beyond words. At that moment, he would happily have proclaimed his love for the monstrous King Yemma and planted a big kiss on his hair-shrouded lips. For now the fighter remained undiscovered, and was free to continue on his adventure.
The whisper of the grass around the creature's feet gradually succumbed to attenuation by the cotton walls that surrounded Krillin, and for a short time, he was left to reside within the darkness with only the soft rumble of King Yemma's breath for company. Then, from the world beyond came the sharp squealing of grinding metal. Krillin quickly realised that this was the sound of the barrier being raised, its hinge shrieking as if outraged at having been disturbed from its rest. The whining hinge was then pacified by a resounding thump as the barrier reached its zenith.
A low growl shook the vehicle's metal shell as the engine was revived from dormancy. It turned over for a few seconds, warming up in preparation for use, then quivered as the motor applied a single, deliberate effort to heave itself and its cargo up from its resting place.
Krillin was given a second sharp kick in the rear end as the car shifted suddenly beneath him. Fearing that he may lose his balance, he placed his hands against the bottom of the pocket and did his best to grasp the wide edge of the door with his stubby fingers.
"Okay, sir." The guard's voice came from outside, almost too muffled for Krillin to hear, "You're good to go."
The fighter felt a shift in his momentum as the vehicle lurched forward.
"Have a nice day, sir." The demon said as the car passed him by.
King Yemma's response may have been inaudible to the security guard, but Krillin's proximity to the vexed ogre allowed him to hear every obscenity uttered.
The busy whirring of an anonymous mechanism, sounding much like the industrious strains of hydraulics suddenly drowned out the muttering of the perturbed King Yemma. The sound was emanating from all around, and defied Krillin's attempts to localise its source.
Krillin cast his gaze to the thin slither of pink sky that peeked down at him from above, in the hope of finding a clue as to what was going on outside. However, what little light had previously trickled down to the fighter quickly dried up as an ominous shadow drew across the narrow opening of the pocket.
The diligent labouring of the hydraulics continued to fill the air for a few moments longer, before coming to an end with a finalising clank. For a few disorienting moments, all that Krillin could sense was the steady movement of the vehicle, and the toiling of its engine. The latter of these was now amplified, as if it was resonating between acoustic barriers.
Something skimmed across the outskirts of Krillin's vision. At first, the fighter thought it may have been a trick of his senses, but then it came again, and again. The phenomena took the form of short flashes of soft, tangerine light. The origins of these flashes were lights fixed to the ceiling of the covered road that the vehicle travelled. At regular intervals, bands of the delicate illumination would scan across the floor of the pocket, temporarily revealing the contours of the creased cotton. All evidence pointed to travel through a tunnel.
With the pressure of evading capture having slightly abated, Krillin was free to take in the sensations that came with his unusual surroundings. For one, the cavity was very warm, deriving its high temperature and humidity from the heat generated by the massive body of King Yemma. Also, there was a strong smell about the place. As Krillin settled down to the journey, the odour began to force itself more vehemently on his olfactory sense. Sweet and sickly, the pungency of the aroma was enhanced by the warmth of the atmosphere.
"Ugh. It smells like two hundred year old cheese in here." Krillin commented quietly to himself.
Leaning back he placed his hands down behind his back to support his body. However while his left hand met with the firm, cotton-quilted surface of the car, his right met with a soft, smooth object. It was also dull to the touch, being similar in temperature to Krillin's hand.
The fighter cringed, but allowed his hand to linger on whatever it was he had found. Then, he plucked up his courage and gingerly wrapped his fingers around it. Krillin brought the object before himself, but found that the glancing amber light emanating from outside was inadequate for an examination. Thus, he raised his left hand, and channelled some of his energy to it. The result was a cool, ice blue glow that bathed the fighter's surroundings. Straining his eyes in the gentle illumination, Krillin saw he was holding a misshapen object wrapped in cellophane, and adorned with a circular label. Upon the label were printed the words, 'Elysium Mature Cheddar, Best Before: Aug 02 1805'.
"Gross!" Krillin rasped, trying to keep his exclamation down to a whisper "I guess he skipped lunch."
Krillin then tossed the rancid dairy product back into the darkness from whence it had come.
The opportunity afforded by the darkness of the tunnel, and unsanitary conditions in King Yemma's pocket, were enough to convince Krillin that it was time to leave. As before, the fighter drew upon the minimum of his ki that was required, and carefully set about picking himself from the ogre's pocket. Slowly, he rose from his seat, and began to emerge from hiding. On surfacing his sweat moistened face was met by a stream of cool air. Taking a slow, deliberate breath through his nose, Krillin purged the remnants of the unwholesome smell of rotten cheddar from his nostrils.
Once free of the pocket, Krillin cast a wary glance at King Yemma. The ogre was fixated with the dimly lit road ahead. Leaning forward and glaring over the windshield, his was an expression of complete concentration. Gliding around behind Yemma, Krillin reclaimed his old perch on the rear bumper of the car.
The tunnel, through which the car travelled, though clearly artificial, seemed to be makeshift. The ground was dusty and littered with gravel that was flicked into the air by the turning of the wheels against the road, appearing as sparks leaping from a grinding wheel as they were accentuated by the amber light. The tunnel arched about twenty feet over head, its coarseness of its walls suggesting that they had been hurriedly ground away. The circular lights fixed to the ceiling were strung together by a thick cord that leapt in upside down arcs between each fitting. Though the air in the cavernous burrow was musty and stale, it was still preferable to that within King Yemma's pocket.
Krillin watched as the chain of lights ran overhead and then faded in to the far reaches of the tunnel. In the distance, the road appeared to curl upwards, giving the impression that the cave had been dug at a slight inclination. The fighter realised that he was being swallowed down into the depths of the other dimension. He could only guess what he would find in its belly.
The journey wore on, and Krillin found himself playing games in his mind. He occupied his time with counting the lights as they flashed by, or attempting to estimate the speed of the car from the time taken to travel between the lights and his best guess at their separation. But before he could reach a solution, his attention was wrestled from his mental arithmetic by an approaching noise.
The sound grew in volume, revealing itself as a churning cacophony raised voices and labouring machinery. As the car travelled deeper into the bowels of heaven the sound filled the tunnel, flooding every corner of the passage and drowning out the grumbling of the car's engine.
Just as the racket was reaching its tumultuous peak, the light in the tunnel began to shift in hue. A brilliant white light that radiated from in front of the car was diluting the soft orange tone of the illumination.
Krillin shuffled over to the left hand side of the fender, and peered around the corner of the vehicle. He found the car was closing in on a bend in the tunnels path from around which the white radiance originated. Within a few seconds the turn was upon him, and the car rounded the corner and penetrated the light.
The din of voices and machinery assaulted his ears as his eyes were attacked by the brilliant glare. With his senses under siege from all sides, Krillin was at first unable to assess this new environment.
The car slowed down and finally came to rest, dropping to earth with a rattle of loosened components that was quickly engulfed in the surrounding racket. It took a few seconds for Krillin's eyes to desensitise themselves enough so that opening them did not result in searing pain.
Squinting hard and sheltering his vision from the severe light level with his hand, Krillin began to examine his surroundings. The fighter could make out the darkened arch through which he had entered. It appeared to be carved from the wall of an even larger cave.
Krillin pushed himself from the fender and dropped to the floor. He then began to tip-toe around the rear of the car, all the time inching his eyes further and further open as he tested his threshold of ocular discomfort. However, the images he perceived were blanched and poorly defined. Stopping for a moment, he waited for his eyes to become acclimatised. Once he was satisfied that his sight was unimpaired, he peered out across the cavern. What the fighter saw, he summed up in a single word,
"Woah."
The fighter was now completely concealed within King Yemma's jacket pocket. The fit was a snug one, and Krillin's head was merely inches from its entrance. Uncomfortable with his proximity to the outside world, the warrior decided to try and submerge yet deeper into the darkness. Krillin knelt down and took a precarious seat, taking great care not to lose his balance on the edge of the car's body, which now supported his weight from outside. There he sat, and waited for the guard's search to end.
A loud slam resonated through the bodywork of the vehicle, giving Krillin an unpleasant jolt in the backside. The guard had finished his thorough examination of the trunk, and was now headed round to Krillin's side of the car. The fighter gritted his teeth and held his breath once more as the rustling of the guard's feet amid the grass became more pronounced. Then silence fell, as the demon drew up directly alongside him.
"I've checked the car, sir, and it's clean." The demon's muffled voice came from beyond the boundaries of Krillin's hiding place.
"Finally." King Yemma sighed in response, "Now, let me through."
"I'm, um. afraid I can't do that. sir." The demon said, hesitantly.
"Damn it, what now!?" Yemma shrieked, a sentiment he shared with the individual who, unbeknownst to him, was concealed on his person.
"I afraid I'll have to ask you to step out of the vehicle, sir. The regulations are quite clear that no one should be allowed access beyond this point without a thorough check of their vehicle and person. " The guard informed Yemma.
Krillin whimpered worriedly under his breath. Discovery now seemed assured. He sat in the darkness, and awaited the inevitable.
"Agh! Forget the goddamn search!" Yemma exclaimed, to the demon's surprise and to Krillin's delight, "Just let me through!"
"B-but sir, the regulations." the demon stuttered before being cut off.
"Those are my regulations and I say forget them! Now let me in before I get really mad!" Yemma commanded.
"Yes, sir. Right away, sir." The demon replied submissively.
His words were followed the crackling of grass stems as he trotted off through the pasture to carry out his orders.
The relief that Krillin felt was beyond words. At that moment, he would happily have proclaimed his love for the monstrous King Yemma and planted a big kiss on his hair-shrouded lips. For now the fighter remained undiscovered, and was free to continue on his adventure.
The whisper of the grass around the creature's feet gradually succumbed to attenuation by the cotton walls that surrounded Krillin, and for a short time, he was left to reside within the darkness with only the soft rumble of King Yemma's breath for company. Then, from the world beyond came the sharp squealing of grinding metal. Krillin quickly realised that this was the sound of the barrier being raised, its hinge shrieking as if outraged at having been disturbed from its rest. The whining hinge was then pacified by a resounding thump as the barrier reached its zenith.
A low growl shook the vehicle's metal shell as the engine was revived from dormancy. It turned over for a few seconds, warming up in preparation for use, then quivered as the motor applied a single, deliberate effort to heave itself and its cargo up from its resting place.
Krillin was given a second sharp kick in the rear end as the car shifted suddenly beneath him. Fearing that he may lose his balance, he placed his hands against the bottom of the pocket and did his best to grasp the wide edge of the door with his stubby fingers.
"Okay, sir." The guard's voice came from outside, almost too muffled for Krillin to hear, "You're good to go."
The fighter felt a shift in his momentum as the vehicle lurched forward.
"Have a nice day, sir." The demon said as the car passed him by.
King Yemma's response may have been inaudible to the security guard, but Krillin's proximity to the vexed ogre allowed him to hear every obscenity uttered.
The busy whirring of an anonymous mechanism, sounding much like the industrious strains of hydraulics suddenly drowned out the muttering of the perturbed King Yemma. The sound was emanating from all around, and defied Krillin's attempts to localise its source.
Krillin cast his gaze to the thin slither of pink sky that peeked down at him from above, in the hope of finding a clue as to what was going on outside. However, what little light had previously trickled down to the fighter quickly dried up as an ominous shadow drew across the narrow opening of the pocket.
The diligent labouring of the hydraulics continued to fill the air for a few moments longer, before coming to an end with a finalising clank. For a few disorienting moments, all that Krillin could sense was the steady movement of the vehicle, and the toiling of its engine. The latter of these was now amplified, as if it was resonating between acoustic barriers.
Something skimmed across the outskirts of Krillin's vision. At first, the fighter thought it may have been a trick of his senses, but then it came again, and again. The phenomena took the form of short flashes of soft, tangerine light. The origins of these flashes were lights fixed to the ceiling of the covered road that the vehicle travelled. At regular intervals, bands of the delicate illumination would scan across the floor of the pocket, temporarily revealing the contours of the creased cotton. All evidence pointed to travel through a tunnel.
With the pressure of evading capture having slightly abated, Krillin was free to take in the sensations that came with his unusual surroundings. For one, the cavity was very warm, deriving its high temperature and humidity from the heat generated by the massive body of King Yemma. Also, there was a strong smell about the place. As Krillin settled down to the journey, the odour began to force itself more vehemently on his olfactory sense. Sweet and sickly, the pungency of the aroma was enhanced by the warmth of the atmosphere.
"Ugh. It smells like two hundred year old cheese in here." Krillin commented quietly to himself.
Leaning back he placed his hands down behind his back to support his body. However while his left hand met with the firm, cotton-quilted surface of the car, his right met with a soft, smooth object. It was also dull to the touch, being similar in temperature to Krillin's hand.
The fighter cringed, but allowed his hand to linger on whatever it was he had found. Then, he plucked up his courage and gingerly wrapped his fingers around it. Krillin brought the object before himself, but found that the glancing amber light emanating from outside was inadequate for an examination. Thus, he raised his left hand, and channelled some of his energy to it. The result was a cool, ice blue glow that bathed the fighter's surroundings. Straining his eyes in the gentle illumination, Krillin saw he was holding a misshapen object wrapped in cellophane, and adorned with a circular label. Upon the label were printed the words, 'Elysium Mature Cheddar, Best Before: Aug 02 1805'.
"Gross!" Krillin rasped, trying to keep his exclamation down to a whisper "I guess he skipped lunch."
Krillin then tossed the rancid dairy product back into the darkness from whence it had come.
The opportunity afforded by the darkness of the tunnel, and unsanitary conditions in King Yemma's pocket, were enough to convince Krillin that it was time to leave. As before, the fighter drew upon the minimum of his ki that was required, and carefully set about picking himself from the ogre's pocket. Slowly, he rose from his seat, and began to emerge from hiding. On surfacing his sweat moistened face was met by a stream of cool air. Taking a slow, deliberate breath through his nose, Krillin purged the remnants of the unwholesome smell of rotten cheddar from his nostrils.
Once free of the pocket, Krillin cast a wary glance at King Yemma. The ogre was fixated with the dimly lit road ahead. Leaning forward and glaring over the windshield, his was an expression of complete concentration. Gliding around behind Yemma, Krillin reclaimed his old perch on the rear bumper of the car.
The tunnel, through which the car travelled, though clearly artificial, seemed to be makeshift. The ground was dusty and littered with gravel that was flicked into the air by the turning of the wheels against the road, appearing as sparks leaping from a grinding wheel as they were accentuated by the amber light. The tunnel arched about twenty feet over head, its coarseness of its walls suggesting that they had been hurriedly ground away. The circular lights fixed to the ceiling were strung together by a thick cord that leapt in upside down arcs between each fitting. Though the air in the cavernous burrow was musty and stale, it was still preferable to that within King Yemma's pocket.
Krillin watched as the chain of lights ran overhead and then faded in to the far reaches of the tunnel. In the distance, the road appeared to curl upwards, giving the impression that the cave had been dug at a slight inclination. The fighter realised that he was being swallowed down into the depths of the other dimension. He could only guess what he would find in its belly.
The journey wore on, and Krillin found himself playing games in his mind. He occupied his time with counting the lights as they flashed by, or attempting to estimate the speed of the car from the time taken to travel between the lights and his best guess at their separation. But before he could reach a solution, his attention was wrestled from his mental arithmetic by an approaching noise.
The sound grew in volume, revealing itself as a churning cacophony raised voices and labouring machinery. As the car travelled deeper into the bowels of heaven the sound filled the tunnel, flooding every corner of the passage and drowning out the grumbling of the car's engine.
Just as the racket was reaching its tumultuous peak, the light in the tunnel began to shift in hue. A brilliant white light that radiated from in front of the car was diluting the soft orange tone of the illumination.
Krillin shuffled over to the left hand side of the fender, and peered around the corner of the vehicle. He found the car was closing in on a bend in the tunnels path from around which the white radiance originated. Within a few seconds the turn was upon him, and the car rounded the corner and penetrated the light.
The din of voices and machinery assaulted his ears as his eyes were attacked by the brilliant glare. With his senses under siege from all sides, Krillin was at first unable to assess this new environment.
The car slowed down and finally came to rest, dropping to earth with a rattle of loosened components that was quickly engulfed in the surrounding racket. It took a few seconds for Krillin's eyes to desensitise themselves enough so that opening them did not result in searing pain.
Squinting hard and sheltering his vision from the severe light level with his hand, Krillin began to examine his surroundings. The fighter could make out the darkened arch through which he had entered. It appeared to be carved from the wall of an even larger cave.
Krillin pushed himself from the fender and dropped to the floor. He then began to tip-toe around the rear of the car, all the time inching his eyes further and further open as he tested his threshold of ocular discomfort. However, the images he perceived were blanched and poorly defined. Stopping for a moment, he waited for his eyes to become acclimatised. Once he was satisfied that his sight was unimpaired, he peered out across the cavern. What the fighter saw, he summed up in a single word,
"Woah."