Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Drawn into Madness ❯ Confrontation ( Chapter 2 )

A/N: Well here is chappie two. Hope you like it ^_^

No I don't own it but I own my ideas.

Ch 2

The sound of a squeaky wheel roused Tarma from her sleep. The short, fat green alien cook that made sure the prisoners where feed pushed his squeaky cart down the hall. Tarma rolled off her thin bedroll, kicking the ratty blanket to the side. Wrapping her amber colored tail around her waist neatly she moved to stand near the slot in the bars.

"Never late for a meal are you?"

Tarma smirked slightly, food and her daily verbal spar with Tebo, where the only things that gave her any pleasure in this horrid place.

"Call me anything, just don't call me late for dinner."

Tebo gave a wet chuckle, passing the heaping plate to her. They had a deal of sorts, Tebo saw she got extra rations of food and she won all her fights. Fights the fat cook laid vast amounts of credits on.

"I heard they brought in a new one last night." He leaned against his cart. Tarma turned and folded herself to the floor. She started to devour her meal and Tebo waited.

"Not this one Tebo. Don't place a bet." She kept her eyes on her plate.

Green jowls pulled taunt as the cook frowned at her.

"Now listen here, honey tail…"

She snarled at him.

"Tarma." Her voice was low and harsh. She had never like the nickname that the cook had given her but since she couldn't remember her name she had let it slide but no more. "My name is Tarma."

Tebo's dull grey eyes widened a bit and one eyes brow shot up.

"Breaking though Kito's mind blocks at last are you?" He waves a thick hand. "Well as nice as that must be for you it is beside the point." He moved closer to the bars. "From what I hear you are going to face that new one in less than a weeks time. His owner has put the odds at ten to one his favor."

Tarma tried to block out the cooks grating voice. She couldn't out right tell him she had no plans to fight the male saiyan. Like everyone else on the planet Tebo was out for only himself in the end. Their deal made him money and he needed her to hold up her end. She held no illusions that the moment she lost or pulled a draw her good friend Tebo would find someone else to get extra rations for.

"More over" He continued " Kito has put you on the roaster for a fight every day this week. I don't know what you did to him or said but word is that if you lose or draw even one fight it is off to the reprogramming hall for you and his tender mercy's thereafter."

Tarma barley paused at this information.

"I don't lose."

Tebo smiled wide, showing razor sharp, yellowed teeth.

"That's more like it." He stepped back to his cart and prepared to move along. Tarma stopped him short.

"Tebo"

The cook paused and looked back. Tarma stood and carried her only half emptied plate to the slot.

"Give it to the new one and give him half my extra rations from now on." She smirked "I need a challenge and having him half starved will drop his odds."

Tebo's gaze pierced her for a long moment but Tarma kept her face an impassive mask. Finally the fat cook gave a short nod.

"You better win." With that he pushed the squeaky cart to the next cell.

Her meal taken care of Tarma started her workout. It took a lot for her to miss this part of her day. Welded to the ceiling of her battered and scorched cell was a pull up bar. The damage to the various surfaces from her many tries to leave her twelve by twelve box. With little effort she leap up and took hold of the bar and shifted so that she hung by her knees. Her mid-drift crimson shirt pooled around her head as she started her vertical sit ups. Twisting her lithe frame to pull to one side or the other, arms crossed over her breasts. Well-toned abdominal muscles rippled with the motions and Tarma lost herself in the familiar rhythm of physical exertion. She had a set routine each day and she had never let anything upset it. So when a half hour into her first set of reps a din started in the hall outside her cell she merely block it out. Sweat had started to bead on her skin, giving her normal olive tone a shine.

"Let me go you belly dragging maggots!"

Tarma gritted her teeth and pushed herself harder. It was not unusually for such yelling to echo in the hall. In fact she had heard worse but for some reason the voice got past her training buzzed brain. A scream cut the air and she finally turned her eyes to the bars but what ever was taking place was out of her range of sight. She was about to brush it off when a bloodied guard dashed past her cell, panic on his face. Still hanging upside down she cocked an eyebrow at this. Her curiosity was cut short when a dark figure fill her line of sight. She twisted her neck to get a better look and met a set of onyx eyes, so much like her own, a dark brown tail thrashed behind the tall saiyan male as he gazed at her. He leaned in, one hand lying against the safe part of the wall beside the bars of her cell.

"So…" A smirk crawled onto his lips. "You come here often?"

Tarma felt herself smirking in return at the egotistical male.

"Well I try not to but I just love the atmostshpere."

The sound of heavy footsteps rang thru the hall and he straightened.

"I don't think our gracious hosts liked me beating up one of their little zap gun boys."

Tarma chuckled deeply in her chest.

"No they hate to be remained that they can be hurt."

He sighed mockingly.

"Looks like I have been a bad boy then and will have to be locked back in my cage." He gave her an appraising look. "Maybe they will send me to bed without my dinner."

Tarma never had a chance to respond for at that moment a mass of guards descended on the escaped prisoner. Ki guns snapped and short stubby clubs bashed. The tall male was beaten to the ground and dragged out of her line of sight. Tarma shook her head and with a lighter heart resumed her workout.