Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Cold As Ice ❯ Pray For Death ( Chapter 15 )

The chains didn't go slack until the door had slid shut and locked again. Then the mechanisms that had been holding them taut were released and the two boys crashed to the floor in gasping heaps. Breathing raggedly, Goten brought his shackled hands together and removed the pins, freeing his wrists, then his ankles. His motions were stiff and painful. Blood ran down the back of his legs and his chest and shoulders had been ripped apart by a whip. Bearing similar marks, with matching red streaks down his legs, Trunks freed himself as well and they slowly made their way to the unconscious forms of Pan and Bra.

His hands were shaking as he turned her over. Pan's face was swollen, her lip split and blood ran from the corner of her mouth in a thin line. Her wrists were bruised, her nails torn and bloody from scratching and clawing to defend herself. Her torso appeared untouched, though smeared with blood. Her thighs and pubic area were one large mass of thick, congealing blood and he was glad he could not clearly see the extent of her wounds. Her breathing was deep and even, her tail twined around her waist. He touched her forehead and found it warm. Touching her throat and belly, he found her body temperature slowly rising. Bowing his head as he lifted her into his arms, Trunks thanked Kami for her Saiyan blood. She was healing.

Goten rolled Bra gently to her side and she groaned. He felt sick when he saw her face, her beautiful face, now a large mass of bruises and swelling and smears of blood from her nose and mouth and even from one ear. A gash in her temple had coated her hair in the thick red liquid. Her breath rattled in her nearly crushed throat, where fingerprint bruises were still darkening beneath the ugly collar. The bruising continued down her chest, shaped into perfect handprints on her breasts. Her belly was streaked with crimson from her face, but didn't appear to have sustained any harm, at least on the outside. There was no telling what he'd done to her insides when he'd driven into her as hard and relentlessly as he'd done, from both sides. Her thighs, butt and pubic area looked puffy and he could see them darkening, even under all the blood. He moved back to her head and gently lifted one eyelid. The white of her eye was red with broken blood vessels but her eye was rolled in the position of a sleeping person, not a dying one. Her skin was hot under his hands and he knew her body was healing itself. He carefully lifted her head into his lap and took her hand. Closing his eyes, he stroked the back of her hand with one finger. Feeling something furry wrap around his wrist, he opened his eyes again and looked down. Her tail was gently squeezing his wrist, the tip stroking his skin in small circles. He smiled. She knew he was there. "Bra," he whispered. Her tail paused. "Bra, I'm going to move you now. It's probably going to hurt. Are you ready?" After a moment, her tail squeezed his wrist and he slid his arms under her as gently as possible, lifting her into his arms and standing up, to carry her to where Trunks was sitting with Pan.

Trunks looked away from Pan's face and into his sister's and he paled even further. Bra was barely recognizable as the beautiful, vibrant girl she usually was. "Oh, Kami," he breathed. "Trunks." He looked up. Goten had lain Bra down and was standing again. "Lets get our clothes so we can clean them up as well as possible." Trunks nodded and reluctantly laid Pan beside his sister. Rising to his feet, he followed Goten to their discarded clothing and then to the other end of the room, where the remains of the girls' gis lay, miraculously untouched by the blood and gore that covered most of the floor on that end of the room.

Naturally unconcerned with modesty, as Saiyans were, they carried the clothes back to the two girls. Kneeling beside them, they used the destroyed clothing to clean away most of the blood, whatever they could remove without furthering the injuries or causing any pain. Slightly less bloody, the girls looked even more fragile and broken. Tossing away the filthy rags, Trunks and Goten carefully dressed Pan and Bra in their own clothing, tying the belts just barely tight enough to hold the extra material on their smaller bodies, but not tight enough to aggravate their wounds. Exhausted by then, they gathered the two injured girls into their arms and leaned against the wall, close together for warmth, but not touching each other. Despite their pain, cold and fear, clutching their charges to their chests, the two boys slept.

Videl in the middle, the three human women curled together on the cold floor of their chamber. They were all silent, not pretending to sleep, just too drained to speak. Unmindful of their nudity, their bodies pressed close for warmth, they contemplated their fate and the fate of their children. When the unmistakable roaring screams of Goten and Trunks had ripped through the air, Chi-Chi had vomited into the corner and Bulma had retched where she stood, falling to her knees. Videl had gone silent and still and had yet to make a noise since then. She just sat and stared, shaking, her eyes wide and blank. Fearing that her mind had snapped, Bulma and Chi-Chi had cared for her as well as possible. Surprised that no one had come for them, they had concluded that their bodies were being allowed to heal, so they could be tortured again and again, drawing out the punishment that Vegeta and the others would suffer, knowing what was happening to them. Silently, not daring to speak the words out loud, both women prayed to Kami for a fast death. Their demise might hurt their husbands, but at least then they would know that their wives were no longer being raped, beaten and tortured. At least then, it would be over.