Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Broken Seal ❯ Strength In Weakness ( Chapter 13 )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: nice-day 
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 03.17.2003 | Pages: 3 | Words: 4.3K | Visits: 220 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 03.17.2003 | Pages: 3 | Words: 4.3K | Visits: 220 | Status: Completed
Krillin heard the words pass between his lips, but even though he had meant every syllable, a doubt still lingered as to whether he could back them up. Furrowing his brow deliberately, he tried to put up the appearance of readiness. But within, the conflict between his heart's desire to fight and his mind's dissuasive reasoning remained unresolved. Krillin could feel the cooling drops of sweat crawling over his face, and knew that his lack of assuredness would be quite obvious to Dodoria.
"What's this?" Dodoria chortled, "The underdog has some fight in him after all."
The underdog. The underdog. He was always the underdog.
It began with a warm, tense feeling inside his chest. Slowly, it began to move through the rest of his body. Throughout his torso, and his limbs, the strange sensation worked its way through the fighter's muscles and crawled across the surface of his skin. And as he looked into the mocking face of Dodoria, the sensation grew in intensity.
Why was he always the underdog? Why did he always have to be rescued? How could he be expected to protect the weak if he himself was regarded as being little more than that? It was perplexing. It was frightening. But most of all, it was infuriating. As the years had passed, Krillin had watched as the heroes and villains in the story of Earth and the universe had steadily grown in power. At the same time, he had been forced to endure seeing his own strength fade in significance. All the training, all the sweat, all the pain, invariably ended with his being defeated, then bailed out by a stronger fighter. He had become little more than a joke, a comedy relief for evil warriors as they prepared to face their true nemeses. All of this suffering, humiliation and indignity were encapsulated by the look of amused condescension that was splattered across Dodoria's bloated face. Krillin hated it.
In a fleeting moment, the warmth ignited into a blazing heat that engulfed Krillin. He was furious, furious at Dodoria, furious at Zarbon, at Frieza and at Vegeta. He was furious at Goku, at Gohan and Picollo. But most of all, he was absolutely livid with himself. For the weakness was his own.
Krillin cried out as his ki thrust through the barriers that had suppressed it, encompassing the fighter in a spiralling column of superheated air. Throwing his head back and balling his fists, he allowed his full strength to flow forth from within. On and on it went, with Krillin lamenting his anger then replacing each lung full of air as it was exhausted and beginning his cry anew. Even as he reached the very zenith of his strength, he continued to drive himself on, stubbornly refusing to believe that he had tapped fully the extent of his power.
Finally, with his muscles burning and his throat stinging, he accepted the level of strength that he had attained, and once again faced Dodoria. Dodoria, however, was unimpressed. He stood with his arms folded, sniggering quietly to himself.
He was laughing. He was still laughing!
Not pausing for the tiniest moment of thought or reason, Krillin lunged at Dodoria, his fists drawn back with ferocious intent. Still burning with a rage fuelled by humiliation and indignity, he was utterly blinded to the fact he was attacking one far stronger than him. With his fears circumvented, he lashed out with a storm of fists and feet. Unable to see through his misted eyes, Krillin could only feel as the blows met with their target. Every blow fell upon a rock hard surface, suggesting that each and every one was being easily blocked. But this didn't matter to Krillin, for it wasn't Dodoria he was fighting. He was fighting his own weakness, his fears, and his feelings of insignificance. And so, blind and unthinking, the fighter continued to pour his heart and soul into a fight that, at some level at least, he knew he might never win.
Krillin's foot struck something soft. The surprise at the sudden change in consistency of his target was enough to bring Krillin out of his temper tantrum. Withdrawing his fists he backed off a few feet, he wiped the saline from his dewy eyes with his forearm and looked upon his adversary. He found Dodoria standing with one arm at his side, a hand raised to his cheek, and a look of angered surprise on his face. The evil fighter was gently rubbing his face where Krillin had evidently landed a lucky blow.
"Not bad." Dodoria said as his mouth twisted into a smirk, "I didn't think you had it in you. I guess we all have our dark side, hmmm?"
Krillin did not answer. He just hung unsteadily in the air, panting heavily after his exertion.
Dodoria dropped the hand from his face, revealing a deep purple bruise on his left cheek. He then began to pace slowly towards Krillin.
"You know, I wouldn't usually allow someone to attack me like that." He said, "But I felt I could make an exception this time, what with you and I being the close friends that we are."
Dodoria continued to draw closer, but Krillin did not move. With scarcely the energy to hold himself off the ground, or even to maintain his anger, he could only watch as the horrible fighter marched toward him.
"I don't imagine you temperate Earthmen lose your temper like that very often." Dodoria speculated, "I suppose I should feel privileged to have bared witness to such an event."
Dodoria stopped. He was stood only a couple of feet from Krillin, his rancid breath washing over the Earthman's sweat-soaked face. Krillin still did not flinch, though he knew what was coming. He simply hovered before Dodoria, staring into his eyes with a face too tired to even bare an expression.
"And it's like I always say," Dodoria began, "one good turn deserves another."
The hideous warrior then began to draw back his right fist. Krillin watched as he did this. Dodoria's movements were not especially fast, and had Krillin not poured all his energy into his desperate pre-emptive strike he would have easily been able to evade the telegraphed attack. But he was exhausted, and Dodoria knew it. All he could do was wait for it to happen. Dodoria threw the punch.
It didn't hurt at first. All Krillin could feel was a sudden pressure in his midriff, followed the strange sensation of uncontrolled flight. Then, in the instants that followed, a tearing pain began to radiate from the point of impact. It resonated through his body, shaking his insides and flooding his head with a violent ringing. Suddenly, Krillin was consumed by nauseating torrent of stimuli. His sense of equilibrium became utterly confused as the world around became a slur of light and colour, and his head swam with extraneous thought as his mind was overcome by the searing agony that had gripped his whole being. Krillin's bearings were completely lost. Light and dark, colour and sound, up and down, all became amalgamated in a boiling soup of confused sensations. The only thing that his senses could tell him with any certainty was that he was in terrible, terrible pain.
There was a second impact. Cold and unforgiving, the blow seemed to be focused on every part of Krillin's body. An instant of complete disorientation followed as his mind reeled within his head. Then, as the pieces of his shattered senses began to fall back into place, something became apparent to him. He knew which way was down.
Krillin's limp body slid down the hard surface and landed on the ground with a hollow thump. Barely conscious, the fighter sat with his back against whatever cold, solid object he had struck. With a groan of discomfort, he gently cradled his belly with both arms. Krillin blinked hard, then opened his eyes to try and regain his bearings. However his vision was still blurred, and the image it portrayed darted from side to side as his eyes continued to rock in their sockets. Krillin's thoughts were still jumbled, but in spite of this, one thought persistently forced itself to his attention. The seal, it was something about the seal.
"The seal!" Krillin gasped.
He then began paw blindly at his chest in desperate search of the tiny artefact. He then gave a sigh of relief as his hand met with a small, metal object that rested against his skin. It was then that he remembered Dodoria.
Krillin shook his head, fighting to regain full command as his senses. The evil fighter could not be far away, and he had to be ready to protect the seal at all costs. Krillin's struggle was then given fresh impetus as he detected a soft chuckling, and the sound of heavy footfalls approaching. Looking up, Krillin could make out the ample outline of Dodoria as he came towards him. He began to look around. As his eyes steadily refocused, he realised that he was sat against the wall of a small, enclosed room. No, it wasn't a room. It was the elevator, the one that had brought Dr Geoff and his assistants to meet him and King Vegeta.
At first, Krillin fought the urge to panic. The only way out of the elevator was through the door, and that was being quite comprehensively blocked by the massive bulk of the approaching Dodoria. Frantically, he looked about for any other means of escape, but he could find none. Then he looked up.
"Well, this has been fun." Dodoria said as he closed in on the entrance to the elevator, "But I'm afraid its time for me to take care of business."
Krillin put the soles of his feet against the floor, and pushed his body up the smooth metal wall. He could see quite clearly now, though in some respects he wished he could not. Dodoria was drawing in, and his hand was beginning to reach ominously towards the seal. Krillin reached a standing position with one arm pressed across his throbbing abdomen, and his face screwed up as a result of the lingering pain.
"I think it's time for you to hand it over." Said Dodoria.
Krillin took an unsure step away from the wall. Now standing unassisted, he began to rake together what little energy he had in reserve. He then took one more glance upwards, the object of his attention being the access hatch in the ceiling of the elevator.
"I hope that things not bolted on." He muttered to himself, and then closed his eyes.
Dodoria ceased his approach, and grunted in puzzlement at Krillin's utterance. In that moment Krillin squatted down, then immediately drove his legs straight as hard as his aching muscles would allow. The fighter's body was hurled upwards. Within an instant his head had struck the lid of the access hatch. Fortunately the lid was made only from a flimsy sheet of metal, which yielded instantly to Krillin upon impact. Upon feeling the modest force of the collision, the fighter opened his eyes.
Krillin had quickly reached the zenith of his leap, and was now hovering in the pitch-black lift shaft with only his faltering ki for support. Ahead of him he could see a narrow line of light drawn vertically across the darkness. Not wasting any time, he reached forwards and drove his fingers into the illuminated crack and began to force its boundaries apart.
The lift door capitulated to Krillin's will without much of a fight, and slid aside to reveal a large open office space. The floor was dotted with precisely ordered, identically equipped desks. However, none of these desks were occupied. At the opposite end of the office a group of about twenty demons, all wearing white lab coats, were staring out of the broken façade of the building watching the beating that was transpiring in the car park with a fearful fascination.
Krillin hopped down onto the soft, carpeted floor and ran as fast as he could across the office hurdling over the desks rather than circumventing them. Once or twice, his trailing toe caught the flat-screened computer monitor on the desk he was leaping over causing it to topple from its purchase. But Krillin continued on without pause for fear that Dodoria was not far behind him. As he approached the crowd of spectators he cried out,
"Coming through!"
The throng of demons turned mere instants before the fighter was upon them, giving them no time to react. Rather than wait for them to part, Krillin opted to leap over them instead. With the absolute last possible step he could take, Krillin catapulted his body upwards once more. As he sailed just over the heads of the startled demons he felt something clip the end of his left toe.
"Ow, my horn!" came an anguished cry from behind the fighter.
Krillin had no time for an apology as he coasted out of the open face of the tech lab and over the car park. Glancing down, he was able to estimate that he had reached the third or fourth floor of the building in his initial leap up the lift shaft.
He then caught sight of King Vegeta. The Saiyan was now at the heart of the crater that had been left after Zarbon had been driven into the concrete earlier on. He was hanging only a few feet from the bottom of the gaping fissure, raining ferocious punches down upon something that was hidden from Krillin's sight beneath a lingering veil of displaced dust. However, it was obvious what the object of Vegeta's wrath was. The thing that disturbed Krillin most about the scene was that it was highly unlikely that Zarbon was still conscious after the merciless pounding he had received. Regardless of this, King Vegeta continued to have at him without any sign of relenting. The Saiyan's rage had ascended beyond the reach of reason to such an extent that he was still attacking a foe that was not only already defeated, but for whom death could never come.
Krillin's trajectory took him in an arc over the horrifying scene. Then his flight path turned downwards and he began to descend to the ground. He coasted downwards steadily for a few seconds, attempting to use his energy to moderate his fall, before touching down with one hand and one knee on the concrete. He then stood up quickly, dusted the gravel from hand, and turned back towards King Vegeta's position.
However, the Saiyan was now completely hidden from Krillns's view by the debris that was erupting from the crater in sporadic bursts as he continued to pound Zarbon. Krillin could still feel his energy though, and for all the exertion he Vegeta had undertaken, his energy signal was still just as prominent above the tides of power as before.
Now that the seal was in his possession, Krillin was anxious to depart the scene as soon as possible. He hesitated to interrupt Vegeta's activities, though. For a short time he debated the wisdom of attracting the attention of a creature that had been consumed by a primeval blood lust. Krillin soon made the decision to call the Saiyan away however, realising he would probably still need his assistance if he was to safely carry the seal on the return trip to King Yemma's office.
"King Vegeta!" he shouted, "King Vegeta, we've got to go!"
Vegeta did not respond to this call, and the torrent of the blows that he had been pouring forth continued unabated. Krillin grunted in a combination of fear and frustration as Vegeta continued to waste valuable escape time.
"King Vegeta, please! We have to go now!" he cried.
But it was to no avail. King Vegeta was trapped within his own decades old rage, living out a twisted fantasy that he had know doubt spent a great deal of time mulling over as he had rotted in hell. What Krillin was witnessing was the fruition of a foul hatred that he could not even begin to comprehend, and there was no way he was going to be able to tempt King Vegeta away from acting upon his heart's most dark desire.
It was becoming apparent that if Krillin were to make an escape he would have to do it alone. Sighing with resignation, he began to turn from the scene. He allowed his gaze to linger as he did in the vain hope that the hand of reason might touch Vegeta and bring him out of his bestial rage. But this did not happen, and Krillin looked away.
"Going somewhere?"
Krillin almost choked on his own heart as upon turning around he was confronted by Dodoria. The huge fighter was stood with his arms folded, blocking Krillin's path away from the Tech lab. He scowled down upon the Earthman, apparently no longer in a joking mood.
Krillin leapt back from Dodoria, and assumed a defensive posture. The fighter furrowed his brow and grimaced, letting out a rather feeble growl in an effort to feign readiness for battle. In reality, Krillin was terrified. Frantically he scoured his mind for the source of the anger that had driven him to attack Dodoria before, but it was not forthcoming. Without those feelings of outrage to galvanise his courage, Krillin had to fight just to hold his ground.
"Enough messing around." Dodoria snarled, "Give me the seal."
Krillin swallowed hard before replying,
"Over my dead body. . . oh no, wait. . ."
Before Krillin could correct himself, Dodoria lunged at the seal with two huge, grasping hands. Krillin leapt backwards instinctively, narrowly evading the evil fighter's attempt to claim the artefact. Fortunately, it seemed that Dodoria's own ponderous bulk was limiting his movement and that, though he was more than a match for Krillin for raw power, the little fighter had the edge when it came to speed of movement. Dodoria leapt forwards at Krillin once more, his massive hands reaching for the seal that hung about the fighter's neck. Again Krillin bounded away from him, evading his greedy fingers.
Over and over Dodoria pounced at Krillin, only to have the object of his desire narrowly snatched away. The little fighter was hopping and bounding like a startled rodent avoiding the slowly swiping paws of a lumbering predator. Periodically he would glance over his shoulder to navigate as he jumped about in reverse. However, it seemed that with each evasion Dodoria was slowly closing in. Krillin was still low on energy, and was beginning to have trouble staying one step ahead of his pursuer.
You better think of something quick, Krillin; he thought to himself as he sidestepped yet another lunge.
It was then that Krillin spotted two cars parked side by side just a few yards behind Dodoria. Their spotless crimson chassis had miraculously remained unblemished during the various melees that had been going on around them. So pristine were they that Krillin almost regretted what he was about to do.
Dodoria threw himself at Krillin once more, roaring with anger as he did. This time, rather than leaping away, Krillin leapt upwards and, placing both hands on the spiny crown of Dodoria's head, vaulted audaciously over the evil warrior. He then twisted his body through a series dizzying rolls before landing with afoot on the bonnet of each of the two cars and with his legs astride the gap between them. Krillin winced slightly as he felt his feet sink into the fragile metal shells of the vehicles, both of which emitted a shrill squeal as their respective suspensions were compressed.
"My car!" cried out two anguished voices in unison.
Krillin fought the urge to turn to the broken lab building, the source of the voices, and apologise profusely. He needed to maintain full concentration if his scheme were to work.
Dodoria, who had been left grasping at thin air, let slip a bark of frustration. Apparently he was not very pleased about being used as a walking pommel horse. The hulking fighter came about to face Krillin.
"Hold still, damn it." He snarled between his teeth.
Krillin did just that. Raising his hands in a claw-like gesture, the fighter prepared to receive his opponent.
Dodoria charged forth once more, his giant feet crushing the concrete beneath them as he pounded a path towards Krillin. The evil fighter thundered towards his prey, his greedy hands being allowed to lead the way as the foul soul sought to undo his own condemnation. Krillin could conceive of no more terrifying sight than that of the hideous creature that was bearing down upon him, but he was able to control his fear nonetheless.
Steady, Krillin. Steady; he thought to himself.
Meter by earth shattering meter, Dodoria was closing in. The wild look in his eyes intensified as he approached Krillin, but still the Earthman stood his ground. In an instant, Dodoria was upon him.
The final fractions of a second trickled away like a feeble stream negotiating a rocky river bed. Krillin's warrior instincts had kicked in, and were allowing him to see his enemy's final steps in what was almost slow motion. As such, Krillin was able to wait until he could feel the condensation from Dodoria's putrid breath collecting on his skin before he made his move.
In a brazen repeat performance of his previous trick, Krillin once again catapulted himself from Dodoria's uneven head. This time, Krillin was able to hear the shriek of tearing metal as he pirouetted through the air. Though all he could see were the smeared colours and warped shapes of a rapidly rotating world, these sounds alone were proof enough that phase one of his plan had gone as hoped.
Krillin landed on the fractured concrete floor. Before him he could see Dodoria, with his hands having punctured the bonnets of each of the cars, appearing to be wearing them like a pair of oversized boxing gloves. The fighter was shaking his arms around, attempting to free them of the ruptured metal bodywork. As he did so, he growled and snarled a number of incompressible phrases that Krillin could only guess were in his native tongue. The cars seemed to echo Dodoria's sentiments, screeching and groaning as they were buffeted about.
As amusing as this scene was, Krillin was still totally focussed on the task at hand. Holding his hands out from his side, the fighter began to siphon what energy he could from his dwindling reserves. Gradually, a steady stream of power began to flow from his shallow reservoir of ki. It ran in a steady cascade down his out stretched arms, and began to collect in his exposed palms.
Dodoria was still struggling with his new set of gloves, seeming to become more infuriate with each failed attempt at escape. Then he stopped. Krillin looked on nervously as the rotund fighter eyed the vehicles, attempting to think his way out of his predicament. This was a worrying development, as the collection of power that Krillin had undertaken was progressing at an infuriating slow rate.
Dodoria pondered his options for a moment, then raised his right foot and placed it on the bonnet of the corresponding car. Using this to increase his leverage, the warrior leaned his ample frame backwards. The car groaned and creaked as Dodoria heaved at his arm, it's hindquarters rearing up off the ground as he did. Then with a metallic screech, Dodoria's right arm was freed of its crimson shackle allowing the car's rear to drop to the ground with a weary groan. He then raised his left foot and began the process anew.
Krillin groaned anxiously as he realised he was running out of time. Gritting his teeth, he began to will the energy to the collection points with renewed vigour, desperately racing Dodoria to being prepared for the next bout of their contest. Unfortunately, it was becoming less and less likely that Krillin would beat Dodoria to the punch, as the Villainous fighter began to haul his arm from car bonnet. Suddenly, there came the sound shearing metal. Dodoria was free.
"No, no." Krillin muttered, "I need more time."
Fortunately, it appeared that Dodoria was in no rush. The fighter looked down at his freed hands, and examined them as he wriggled his thick fingers. He then balled them into tightly clenched fists, grunting as he did, and began to turn to face Krillin.
"C'mon," Krillin hissed between his teeth, "Just a few more seconds."
Dodoria's eyes fell upon Krillin, and he smiled wickedly as he realised that the Earthman was building up power for an attack. He began to widen his gate, lowering his centre of mass in readiness to receive the attack.
Krillin maintained his composure without, but within, he allowed himself the luxury of a little smile. As with so many evil fighter's, Dodoria seemed all too eager to display his strength by taking an opponents attack on the chin. This was usually especially the case if their opponent was weaker than they were.
Dodoria reached forwards with both arms, and splayed out his hands into a blocking position. He then signalled his readiness with a loud grunt.
At this Krillin breathed in deeply, then exhaled slowly saying,
"It's now or never."
--- ------- ----------- -------------
Note for Serendipity: I ended "things like this" again! Sorry. I guess I must have a sadistic streak. : )
.
"What's this?" Dodoria chortled, "The underdog has some fight in him after all."
The underdog. The underdog. He was always the underdog.
It began with a warm, tense feeling inside his chest. Slowly, it began to move through the rest of his body. Throughout his torso, and his limbs, the strange sensation worked its way through the fighter's muscles and crawled across the surface of his skin. And as he looked into the mocking face of Dodoria, the sensation grew in intensity.
Why was he always the underdog? Why did he always have to be rescued? How could he be expected to protect the weak if he himself was regarded as being little more than that? It was perplexing. It was frightening. But most of all, it was infuriating. As the years had passed, Krillin had watched as the heroes and villains in the story of Earth and the universe had steadily grown in power. At the same time, he had been forced to endure seeing his own strength fade in significance. All the training, all the sweat, all the pain, invariably ended with his being defeated, then bailed out by a stronger fighter. He had become little more than a joke, a comedy relief for evil warriors as they prepared to face their true nemeses. All of this suffering, humiliation and indignity were encapsulated by the look of amused condescension that was splattered across Dodoria's bloated face. Krillin hated it.
In a fleeting moment, the warmth ignited into a blazing heat that engulfed Krillin. He was furious, furious at Dodoria, furious at Zarbon, at Frieza and at Vegeta. He was furious at Goku, at Gohan and Picollo. But most of all, he was absolutely livid with himself. For the weakness was his own.
Krillin cried out as his ki thrust through the barriers that had suppressed it, encompassing the fighter in a spiralling column of superheated air. Throwing his head back and balling his fists, he allowed his full strength to flow forth from within. On and on it went, with Krillin lamenting his anger then replacing each lung full of air as it was exhausted and beginning his cry anew. Even as he reached the very zenith of his strength, he continued to drive himself on, stubbornly refusing to believe that he had tapped fully the extent of his power.
Finally, with his muscles burning and his throat stinging, he accepted the level of strength that he had attained, and once again faced Dodoria. Dodoria, however, was unimpressed. He stood with his arms folded, sniggering quietly to himself.
He was laughing. He was still laughing!
Not pausing for the tiniest moment of thought or reason, Krillin lunged at Dodoria, his fists drawn back with ferocious intent. Still burning with a rage fuelled by humiliation and indignity, he was utterly blinded to the fact he was attacking one far stronger than him. With his fears circumvented, he lashed out with a storm of fists and feet. Unable to see through his misted eyes, Krillin could only feel as the blows met with their target. Every blow fell upon a rock hard surface, suggesting that each and every one was being easily blocked. But this didn't matter to Krillin, for it wasn't Dodoria he was fighting. He was fighting his own weakness, his fears, and his feelings of insignificance. And so, blind and unthinking, the fighter continued to pour his heart and soul into a fight that, at some level at least, he knew he might never win.
Krillin's foot struck something soft. The surprise at the sudden change in consistency of his target was enough to bring Krillin out of his temper tantrum. Withdrawing his fists he backed off a few feet, he wiped the saline from his dewy eyes with his forearm and looked upon his adversary. He found Dodoria standing with one arm at his side, a hand raised to his cheek, and a look of angered surprise on his face. The evil fighter was gently rubbing his face where Krillin had evidently landed a lucky blow.
"Not bad." Dodoria said as his mouth twisted into a smirk, "I didn't think you had it in you. I guess we all have our dark side, hmmm?"
Krillin did not answer. He just hung unsteadily in the air, panting heavily after his exertion.
Dodoria dropped the hand from his face, revealing a deep purple bruise on his left cheek. He then began to pace slowly towards Krillin.
"You know, I wouldn't usually allow someone to attack me like that." He said, "But I felt I could make an exception this time, what with you and I being the close friends that we are."
Dodoria continued to draw closer, but Krillin did not move. With scarcely the energy to hold himself off the ground, or even to maintain his anger, he could only watch as the horrible fighter marched toward him.
"I don't imagine you temperate Earthmen lose your temper like that very often." Dodoria speculated, "I suppose I should feel privileged to have bared witness to such an event."
Dodoria stopped. He was stood only a couple of feet from Krillin, his rancid breath washing over the Earthman's sweat-soaked face. Krillin still did not flinch, though he knew what was coming. He simply hovered before Dodoria, staring into his eyes with a face too tired to even bare an expression.
"And it's like I always say," Dodoria began, "one good turn deserves another."
The hideous warrior then began to draw back his right fist. Krillin watched as he did this. Dodoria's movements were not especially fast, and had Krillin not poured all his energy into his desperate pre-emptive strike he would have easily been able to evade the telegraphed attack. But he was exhausted, and Dodoria knew it. All he could do was wait for it to happen. Dodoria threw the punch.
It didn't hurt at first. All Krillin could feel was a sudden pressure in his midriff, followed the strange sensation of uncontrolled flight. Then, in the instants that followed, a tearing pain began to radiate from the point of impact. It resonated through his body, shaking his insides and flooding his head with a violent ringing. Suddenly, Krillin was consumed by nauseating torrent of stimuli. His sense of equilibrium became utterly confused as the world around became a slur of light and colour, and his head swam with extraneous thought as his mind was overcome by the searing agony that had gripped his whole being. Krillin's bearings were completely lost. Light and dark, colour and sound, up and down, all became amalgamated in a boiling soup of confused sensations. The only thing that his senses could tell him with any certainty was that he was in terrible, terrible pain.
There was a second impact. Cold and unforgiving, the blow seemed to be focused on every part of Krillin's body. An instant of complete disorientation followed as his mind reeled within his head. Then, as the pieces of his shattered senses began to fall back into place, something became apparent to him. He knew which way was down.
Krillin's limp body slid down the hard surface and landed on the ground with a hollow thump. Barely conscious, the fighter sat with his back against whatever cold, solid object he had struck. With a groan of discomfort, he gently cradled his belly with both arms. Krillin blinked hard, then opened his eyes to try and regain his bearings. However his vision was still blurred, and the image it portrayed darted from side to side as his eyes continued to rock in their sockets. Krillin's thoughts were still jumbled, but in spite of this, one thought persistently forced itself to his attention. The seal, it was something about the seal.
"The seal!" Krillin gasped.
He then began paw blindly at his chest in desperate search of the tiny artefact. He then gave a sigh of relief as his hand met with a small, metal object that rested against his skin. It was then that he remembered Dodoria.
Krillin shook his head, fighting to regain full command as his senses. The evil fighter could not be far away, and he had to be ready to protect the seal at all costs. Krillin's struggle was then given fresh impetus as he detected a soft chuckling, and the sound of heavy footfalls approaching. Looking up, Krillin could make out the ample outline of Dodoria as he came towards him. He began to look around. As his eyes steadily refocused, he realised that he was sat against the wall of a small, enclosed room. No, it wasn't a room. It was the elevator, the one that had brought Dr Geoff and his assistants to meet him and King Vegeta.
At first, Krillin fought the urge to panic. The only way out of the elevator was through the door, and that was being quite comprehensively blocked by the massive bulk of the approaching Dodoria. Frantically, he looked about for any other means of escape, but he could find none. Then he looked up.
"Well, this has been fun." Dodoria said as he closed in on the entrance to the elevator, "But I'm afraid its time for me to take care of business."
Krillin put the soles of his feet against the floor, and pushed his body up the smooth metal wall. He could see quite clearly now, though in some respects he wished he could not. Dodoria was drawing in, and his hand was beginning to reach ominously towards the seal. Krillin reached a standing position with one arm pressed across his throbbing abdomen, and his face screwed up as a result of the lingering pain.
"I think it's time for you to hand it over." Said Dodoria.
Krillin took an unsure step away from the wall. Now standing unassisted, he began to rake together what little energy he had in reserve. He then took one more glance upwards, the object of his attention being the access hatch in the ceiling of the elevator.
"I hope that things not bolted on." He muttered to himself, and then closed his eyes.
Dodoria ceased his approach, and grunted in puzzlement at Krillin's utterance. In that moment Krillin squatted down, then immediately drove his legs straight as hard as his aching muscles would allow. The fighter's body was hurled upwards. Within an instant his head had struck the lid of the access hatch. Fortunately the lid was made only from a flimsy sheet of metal, which yielded instantly to Krillin upon impact. Upon feeling the modest force of the collision, the fighter opened his eyes.
Krillin had quickly reached the zenith of his leap, and was now hovering in the pitch-black lift shaft with only his faltering ki for support. Ahead of him he could see a narrow line of light drawn vertically across the darkness. Not wasting any time, he reached forwards and drove his fingers into the illuminated crack and began to force its boundaries apart.
The lift door capitulated to Krillin's will without much of a fight, and slid aside to reveal a large open office space. The floor was dotted with precisely ordered, identically equipped desks. However, none of these desks were occupied. At the opposite end of the office a group of about twenty demons, all wearing white lab coats, were staring out of the broken façade of the building watching the beating that was transpiring in the car park with a fearful fascination.
Krillin hopped down onto the soft, carpeted floor and ran as fast as he could across the office hurdling over the desks rather than circumventing them. Once or twice, his trailing toe caught the flat-screened computer monitor on the desk he was leaping over causing it to topple from its purchase. But Krillin continued on without pause for fear that Dodoria was not far behind him. As he approached the crowd of spectators he cried out,
"Coming through!"
The throng of demons turned mere instants before the fighter was upon them, giving them no time to react. Rather than wait for them to part, Krillin opted to leap over them instead. With the absolute last possible step he could take, Krillin catapulted his body upwards once more. As he sailed just over the heads of the startled demons he felt something clip the end of his left toe.
"Ow, my horn!" came an anguished cry from behind the fighter.
Krillin had no time for an apology as he coasted out of the open face of the tech lab and over the car park. Glancing down, he was able to estimate that he had reached the third or fourth floor of the building in his initial leap up the lift shaft.
He then caught sight of King Vegeta. The Saiyan was now at the heart of the crater that had been left after Zarbon had been driven into the concrete earlier on. He was hanging only a few feet from the bottom of the gaping fissure, raining ferocious punches down upon something that was hidden from Krillin's sight beneath a lingering veil of displaced dust. However, it was obvious what the object of Vegeta's wrath was. The thing that disturbed Krillin most about the scene was that it was highly unlikely that Zarbon was still conscious after the merciless pounding he had received. Regardless of this, King Vegeta continued to have at him without any sign of relenting. The Saiyan's rage had ascended beyond the reach of reason to such an extent that he was still attacking a foe that was not only already defeated, but for whom death could never come.
Krillin's trajectory took him in an arc over the horrifying scene. Then his flight path turned downwards and he began to descend to the ground. He coasted downwards steadily for a few seconds, attempting to use his energy to moderate his fall, before touching down with one hand and one knee on the concrete. He then stood up quickly, dusted the gravel from hand, and turned back towards King Vegeta's position.
However, the Saiyan was now completely hidden from Krillns's view by the debris that was erupting from the crater in sporadic bursts as he continued to pound Zarbon. Krillin could still feel his energy though, and for all the exertion he Vegeta had undertaken, his energy signal was still just as prominent above the tides of power as before.
Now that the seal was in his possession, Krillin was anxious to depart the scene as soon as possible. He hesitated to interrupt Vegeta's activities, though. For a short time he debated the wisdom of attracting the attention of a creature that had been consumed by a primeval blood lust. Krillin soon made the decision to call the Saiyan away however, realising he would probably still need his assistance if he was to safely carry the seal on the return trip to King Yemma's office.
"King Vegeta!" he shouted, "King Vegeta, we've got to go!"
Vegeta did not respond to this call, and the torrent of the blows that he had been pouring forth continued unabated. Krillin grunted in a combination of fear and frustration as Vegeta continued to waste valuable escape time.
"King Vegeta, please! We have to go now!" he cried.
But it was to no avail. King Vegeta was trapped within his own decades old rage, living out a twisted fantasy that he had know doubt spent a great deal of time mulling over as he had rotted in hell. What Krillin was witnessing was the fruition of a foul hatred that he could not even begin to comprehend, and there was no way he was going to be able to tempt King Vegeta away from acting upon his heart's most dark desire.
It was becoming apparent that if Krillin were to make an escape he would have to do it alone. Sighing with resignation, he began to turn from the scene. He allowed his gaze to linger as he did in the vain hope that the hand of reason might touch Vegeta and bring him out of his bestial rage. But this did not happen, and Krillin looked away.
"Going somewhere?"
Krillin almost choked on his own heart as upon turning around he was confronted by Dodoria. The huge fighter was stood with his arms folded, blocking Krillin's path away from the Tech lab. He scowled down upon the Earthman, apparently no longer in a joking mood.
Krillin leapt back from Dodoria, and assumed a defensive posture. The fighter furrowed his brow and grimaced, letting out a rather feeble growl in an effort to feign readiness for battle. In reality, Krillin was terrified. Frantically he scoured his mind for the source of the anger that had driven him to attack Dodoria before, but it was not forthcoming. Without those feelings of outrage to galvanise his courage, Krillin had to fight just to hold his ground.
"Enough messing around." Dodoria snarled, "Give me the seal."
Krillin swallowed hard before replying,
"Over my dead body. . . oh no, wait. . ."
Before Krillin could correct himself, Dodoria lunged at the seal with two huge, grasping hands. Krillin leapt backwards instinctively, narrowly evading the evil fighter's attempt to claim the artefact. Fortunately, it seemed that Dodoria's own ponderous bulk was limiting his movement and that, though he was more than a match for Krillin for raw power, the little fighter had the edge when it came to speed of movement. Dodoria leapt forwards at Krillin once more, his massive hands reaching for the seal that hung about the fighter's neck. Again Krillin bounded away from him, evading his greedy fingers.
Over and over Dodoria pounced at Krillin, only to have the object of his desire narrowly snatched away. The little fighter was hopping and bounding like a startled rodent avoiding the slowly swiping paws of a lumbering predator. Periodically he would glance over his shoulder to navigate as he jumped about in reverse. However, it seemed that with each evasion Dodoria was slowly closing in. Krillin was still low on energy, and was beginning to have trouble staying one step ahead of his pursuer.
You better think of something quick, Krillin; he thought to himself as he sidestepped yet another lunge.
It was then that Krillin spotted two cars parked side by side just a few yards behind Dodoria. Their spotless crimson chassis had miraculously remained unblemished during the various melees that had been going on around them. So pristine were they that Krillin almost regretted what he was about to do.
Dodoria threw himself at Krillin once more, roaring with anger as he did. This time, rather than leaping away, Krillin leapt upwards and, placing both hands on the spiny crown of Dodoria's head, vaulted audaciously over the evil warrior. He then twisted his body through a series dizzying rolls before landing with afoot on the bonnet of each of the two cars and with his legs astride the gap between them. Krillin winced slightly as he felt his feet sink into the fragile metal shells of the vehicles, both of which emitted a shrill squeal as their respective suspensions were compressed.
"My car!" cried out two anguished voices in unison.
Krillin fought the urge to turn to the broken lab building, the source of the voices, and apologise profusely. He needed to maintain full concentration if his scheme were to work.
Dodoria, who had been left grasping at thin air, let slip a bark of frustration. Apparently he was not very pleased about being used as a walking pommel horse. The hulking fighter came about to face Krillin.
"Hold still, damn it." He snarled between his teeth.
Krillin did just that. Raising his hands in a claw-like gesture, the fighter prepared to receive his opponent.
Dodoria charged forth once more, his giant feet crushing the concrete beneath them as he pounded a path towards Krillin. The evil fighter thundered towards his prey, his greedy hands being allowed to lead the way as the foul soul sought to undo his own condemnation. Krillin could conceive of no more terrifying sight than that of the hideous creature that was bearing down upon him, but he was able to control his fear nonetheless.
Steady, Krillin. Steady; he thought to himself.
Meter by earth shattering meter, Dodoria was closing in. The wild look in his eyes intensified as he approached Krillin, but still the Earthman stood his ground. In an instant, Dodoria was upon him.
The final fractions of a second trickled away like a feeble stream negotiating a rocky river bed. Krillin's warrior instincts had kicked in, and were allowing him to see his enemy's final steps in what was almost slow motion. As such, Krillin was able to wait until he could feel the condensation from Dodoria's putrid breath collecting on his skin before he made his move.
In a brazen repeat performance of his previous trick, Krillin once again catapulted himself from Dodoria's uneven head. This time, Krillin was able to hear the shriek of tearing metal as he pirouetted through the air. Though all he could see were the smeared colours and warped shapes of a rapidly rotating world, these sounds alone were proof enough that phase one of his plan had gone as hoped.
Krillin landed on the fractured concrete floor. Before him he could see Dodoria, with his hands having punctured the bonnets of each of the cars, appearing to be wearing them like a pair of oversized boxing gloves. The fighter was shaking his arms around, attempting to free them of the ruptured metal bodywork. As he did so, he growled and snarled a number of incompressible phrases that Krillin could only guess were in his native tongue. The cars seemed to echo Dodoria's sentiments, screeching and groaning as they were buffeted about.
As amusing as this scene was, Krillin was still totally focussed on the task at hand. Holding his hands out from his side, the fighter began to siphon what energy he could from his dwindling reserves. Gradually, a steady stream of power began to flow from his shallow reservoir of ki. It ran in a steady cascade down his out stretched arms, and began to collect in his exposed palms.
Dodoria was still struggling with his new set of gloves, seeming to become more infuriate with each failed attempt at escape. Then he stopped. Krillin looked on nervously as the rotund fighter eyed the vehicles, attempting to think his way out of his predicament. This was a worrying development, as the collection of power that Krillin had undertaken was progressing at an infuriating slow rate.
Dodoria pondered his options for a moment, then raised his right foot and placed it on the bonnet of the corresponding car. Using this to increase his leverage, the warrior leaned his ample frame backwards. The car groaned and creaked as Dodoria heaved at his arm, it's hindquarters rearing up off the ground as he did. Then with a metallic screech, Dodoria's right arm was freed of its crimson shackle allowing the car's rear to drop to the ground with a weary groan. He then raised his left foot and began the process anew.
Krillin groaned anxiously as he realised he was running out of time. Gritting his teeth, he began to will the energy to the collection points with renewed vigour, desperately racing Dodoria to being prepared for the next bout of their contest. Unfortunately, it was becoming less and less likely that Krillin would beat Dodoria to the punch, as the Villainous fighter began to haul his arm from car bonnet. Suddenly, there came the sound shearing metal. Dodoria was free.
"No, no." Krillin muttered, "I need more time."
Fortunately, it appeared that Dodoria was in no rush. The fighter looked down at his freed hands, and examined them as he wriggled his thick fingers. He then balled them into tightly clenched fists, grunting as he did, and began to turn to face Krillin.
"C'mon," Krillin hissed between his teeth, "Just a few more seconds."
Dodoria's eyes fell upon Krillin, and he smiled wickedly as he realised that the Earthman was building up power for an attack. He began to widen his gate, lowering his centre of mass in readiness to receive the attack.
Krillin maintained his composure without, but within, he allowed himself the luxury of a little smile. As with so many evil fighter's, Dodoria seemed all too eager to display his strength by taking an opponents attack on the chin. This was usually especially the case if their opponent was weaker than they were.
Dodoria reached forwards with both arms, and splayed out his hands into a blocking position. He then signalled his readiness with a loud grunt.
At this Krillin breathed in deeply, then exhaled slowly saying,
"It's now or never."
--- ------- ----------- -------------
Note for Serendipity: I ended "things like this" again! Sorry. I guess I must have a sadistic streak. : )
.