Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Hope Leaves ❯ Climbing Up the Walls ( Chapter 6 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

THIS CHAPTER: Vegeta finally comes face to face with the cause of all the recent madness. Trapped and in far more danger than he realises, his only option is to wait and hope an opportunity to escape. Unbeknownst to him, his family might be in more danger than he is.
WARNINGS: abuse/ NC


Hundreds of wires, cords and cables ran across the dirt floor of the cave, or at least what appeared to be a cave from what Vegeta could see. The atmosphere of the small place was filled with dust, stars and moonlight, as though they were both outside drifting freely through space and inside at the same time. They, he thought, staring up at the two familiar looking men who were watching him from across the cave. Who are they? His limbs jerked involuntarily, sending sharp pains deep into the muscles, right down to the bone, but when he tried to cry out it became obvious that there was something lodged in his throat. It was a bundle of plastic tubing, taped to his skin at intervals along his exposed neck and hooked up to several plastic bags filled with liquid.

'Try to move as little as possible. The less you stimulate the nerves, the less pain there will be,' one of the men spoke up, looking down on Vegeta with disgust as though he were a writhing slug leaving a slimy trail over someone's lunch. He shot them both a menacing glare, but when he tried to pull free of what he now realised were hundreds of tiny wires penetrating his entire body, the pain flooded his nerves once again in an excruciating wave. Though the effect of the stimulation was more than enough to prevent movement, Vegeta was about to break through the pain and blast the wires away. As though some unseen force could hear these intentions, a light began to glow at the center of the stars whirring around their heads, distracting him. Distortions worked their way through his vision although they were different before, making something out of nothing instead of altering what already was.

It wasn't frightening this time as he watched the rocky walls of the tiny cave shimmering and disappearing from sight, giving way to vast reaches of night. A deep blue and purple patchwork with glowing seams of star clusters stretched out for miles and miles before his eyes, its luminescent surface reminding him of the pearly interior of seashells. It was like staring into the deep space of his distant memories, into places he had not ventured for so many years now but for the life of him couldn't think why. When was it that he'd gotten tied down to this shit hole of a planet to such an extent that he didn't even bother to take brief trips into space every now and then? Getting off this pile of dirt and away from the fools that inhabited 98.7% of it might actually clear his head-

'Vegeta,' one of his captors called, snapping him out of it. Once again he could see both them and the small cave, but an upward gaze revealed that the heavenly apparition was still there. How could he become so ridiculously distracted? He began to struggle again ignoring the agony that rushed through his veins with every movement, but his damned limbs wouldn't do what they were told anymore. The man addressing him was pushing buttons on a device attached to the wires.

'We have something to tell you before we send you off on the little trip we have planned and that is simply this. You're going to regret speaking out against us, if you aren't already. It didn't have to happen this way Vegeta,' began the stern speech. 'We've never done a single wrong by you and yet you've entered into an agreement to help slander our name. Now I won't lie to you, we're hurt by your betrayal. We trusted you Vegeta, everybody did. We trusted you to such an extent that myself and my partner were the only ones stationed here on this planet to keep an eye on you in case things went awry, as they have recently. You've let us down... rather badly. Now we're going to remove the tubes from your throat an give you one chance to speak for yourself, to admit how much you really know about us. I repeat, this is your only chance. And please stop trying to move, it's completely useless now. All your neural messages for movement are being redirected.'

'Misdirected, I think you'll find,' corrected the other man, who had been silent up until now.

Vegeta tried not to be sick at the feeling of the tubing sliding out of his throat. For some time he couldn't speak, being too busy retching up bloody saliva.

'You...' he finally managed to get out. 'You're going to pay for this. You think you can keep me here with your little toy? You fools, just wait... wait till I get out of this...'

'I wouldn't if I were you my friend. Don't take the conversation in that direction. Don't take us down that path. We're skipping all the formalities this evening.'

'I'll give you fucking formalities, idiot. I haven't got the faintest clue who you are, so whatever information it is that you think I might have, I don't. Your mistake will cost you your lives, and the lives of whoever sent you. Mark my words. Even if you were to let me go at this instant it wouldn't save you. You're going to die by my hand and all this is merely prolonging the inevitable, so do what you will now. Just don't forget what I've said,' he snarled, spitting at their feet to accentuate his message.

'We only wish we could believe you,' the more talkative of his captors sighed. 'We sincerely wish that you didn't know anything about who we are or what we do. But we can never know that for sure. Not unless we do things the hard way and search your memories. If only you'd just admit what you know, then this would all be over, and you wouldn't have to go anywhere. You wouldn't have to go back.'

Go back? Did they mean... Before he could protest, the tubes were violently reinserted into Vegeta's throat and a surge of electricity raced through the wires attached to his scalp. As the darkness and the terror claimed him, the last thing he saw was the shadow of a person emerge from his own strapped down form and sit upright.

'Well well!' the cruel stranger holding the control cried jovially. 'I take it you're pleased to be out at last?'

The figure that sat up was still merged from the waist down with Vegeta, who was strapped down and wired to what looked like a narrow hospital bed. However, the mysterious phantom's upper body was free and its face and body began to take shape, increasing in definition until there was no mistaking the likeness of Vegeta. This likeness was so great that only those who knew the prince well would realise the subtle differences between the two, like the vicious little smile, the wickedly narrowed eyes, the way his cheekbones and jaw were set in harsh lines, exaggerating the natural sharpness of his face. The double let out a low chuckle which quickly became demented cackling.

'Oh, am I ever,' he whispered, finally composing himself. He stood, freeing himself completely from Vegeta's now unconscious form and becoming more solid and life like with every step he took. The stiff features softened ever so slightly for a moment, appearing almost worried as he stared at the listless body he'd emerged from, then looked over at the one who had addressed him.

'Lennon.'

'Yes. You remember,' Lennon grinned, stroking his chin.

'Of course. But you,' he looked at the other, quieter man. 'You I do not know. Who are you then?

'Myrrh.'

'I see. Is he... alright?' he queried, looking at Vegeta.

'Now then my friend. I know this may be difficult for you to accept given the circumstances, but you've no need to worry about him. You owe him nothing. Don't forget what he's done to you. All these years you've guarded his mind, protected him from all those things he was too weak to defend against, protected him from himself.'

'But-'

'Please,' Lennon stopped him and took his hand gently, at which he snarled but strangely did not pull away. 'Try to think of this objectively. After all you did for him, he locked you away in the deepest, darkest part of himself, never to see the light of day again like some sought of disobedient dog. Please, don't pity him. We both know you've gotten past that. Let us... take care of everything. We'll take away all those unsavory things within that give you so much grief. If you continue to work for us, to help us out, then we'll help you. You can have anything you desire. Anything. With your support, nothing will stand in our way, and that is certain. And of course, it will be nothing like working for Frieza. You know that. From us you shall have the proper respect that is due a mighty prince such as yourself. Our union will benefit you as much as it will us, perhaps more.'

The double folded his arms proudly and stared out at the stars.

'What do you want me to do first?'

Lennon smiled devilishly, looking terribly pleased with himself. His face was long and narrow, with a hook nose, thin lips and large, red rimmed blue eyes. He was a lot more unsettling in his appearance than Myrrh, who was stocky and fuller of face with squinty black eyes, puffy lips and a wide nose.

'Myrrh?' he prompted, motioning with his hands for his companion to explain. Myrrh cleared his throat.

'Well, y'see, for the moment we just want you to go home my lord. Well, the home where you live, to his family. Don't want em to think anything's outta the ordinary y'know? Or they're bound to come sniffing around. Just act natural like. Wouldn't be hard, not for you anyway!' he laughed dopily. 'You'll hear from us soon ey? Just hold down the fort for a bit.'

'Sounds like a plan. I could use a good meal anyway. I'm going to head off. The sooner we get this part over with the better.'

'Yes, yes indeed my lord. We need only to get ourselves out of the woods and then...' Lennon trailed off. The Prince smiled darkly and took off in the direction of Capsule Corps.

'Well that went well,' Myrrh said, gazing after him.

'Very. We best get right to work, there's no time to lose. Now, I'm going to briefly go through the process once more with you. This device can stimulate any of the nerve cells in the brain. We are connected via the wires to those distinctive nerve cells that contain memory traces, of which there are multitudes. Stimulation delivered in the form of mild electrical currents will activate them, causing him to re experience the memories stored within them. Using these patterns of activation we can recreate the inner world, essentially traveling into the past, his past. It won't just be like any old walk down memory lane, it will be the real thing. But it can only be done in a Rift, like this one,' he motioned to the strange enclosure surrounding them that was both outside and inside, a clash of dimensions.

'Now when we find information stored in his mind that is a threat to us, we simply... scramble the neural networks, for lack of better words. And remember, there's something else we're looking for, some very important knowledge we need for ourselves. It's crucial that we retrieve it. You know what I'm talking about.'

'Well yeah, the-'

Lennon slapped a hand over Myrrh's mouth. 'Silence! You don't know who could be listening!' He then began to speak in a foreign tongue, as though the unconscious Vegeta might hear him. 'It would be so much easier to torture the information out of him and just kill him once he talks. I can't understand why SS feels the need to go to all this trouble. They're so frightened of these pathetic saiyans and what will happen if they kill him. Oh well, we'll have to do it their way for now. But he won't be much use to them once we're done with him,' he concluded with a snicker.

'But what about, y'know, the uh, the other one? He's going to join with the SS. Isn't that what they want? If we go in an mix up all the nervy bits in Vegeta's brain, won't he go a bit... I mean, he's already a loony. What good will he be after this?'

Lennon rolled his eyes. 'Look, don't worry about what the SS wants. What matters is what we want. Vegeta will be a drooling vegetable by the time we're done with him. But you never knew about that and neither did I. We're to tell the SS generals that the machine had a surge and fried his brain. Fools, they'll never be the wiser, besides they'll forget all about losing him once they've got what they want the most. I'm going to go through his mind and torture him mercilessly by forcing him to relive every second of hell and pain he's ever gone through, and worse. In the end he'll be an empty husk, a living corpse left to rot away alone and cold, just as I was left to rot when he destroyed my people. Who's laughing now, you saiyan scum,' he snarled, staring at Vegeta hatefully. He then turned back to Myrrh, forced cheerfulness masking the vengeful madness in his eyes.

'But how do we know which memories to activate?' Myrrh asked, dumbfounded.

'Well it's simple. When a memory is very unpleasant, the mind directs a lot of mental energy towards suppressing it, essentially feeding and strengthening it so it never, ever goes away. It's not hard for me to detect. Isn't it beautiful how flawed the minds of mortal men are? Thus why they say, my humble servant,' his voice dropped to a low, disquieting whisper, 'that you should always face your fears. Shall we begin?'


Trunks and his mother sat silently in the West City hospital foyer with worried expressions plastered on their faces. They'd been there for several hours, having showed reception staff a photo of Vegeta and told them he was missing, asking if they could please ask around to see if the man in the photo had come by the hospital at all recently. Finally the very disturbing news was reported back to them. Vegeta had indeed been at the hospital, but he hadn't seemed to have eaten or drank anything in quite some time and was high on an unusual drug the doctor's couldn't classify, claiming he'd been poisoned. They also knew about the wound on his neck, which Bulma remembered all to well.

Her mind was ticking, ticking, whirring away, trying to weave through all the impossible labyrinths constructed by this new information. She picked over every possibility, every reason, from every different perspective she could imagine, but as brilliant as her ability to solve problems usually was, this was not some glitch in the design of a new invention. This was Vegeta, and with all his stunning complexities he was not so easy for her to figure out. Perhaps that was what she loved about him the most, that she could study every intricacy, examine every part of him, search through his soul endlessly, and still not have all the answers. As a scientist, as a woman, he was her greatest challenge yet. And her most painful. Through the foyer window she could see the grounds, their short grasses and bare trees washed out by faint sunlight, as bleak and barren as she felt inside.

Tell me what's happened to the leaves!

'Mum,' Trunks said, jolting her out of her thoughts. 'What are we going to do? Who could possibly do something like this to dad? They'd have to be incredibly powerful.'

'Not necessarily. He hasn't been himself lately. Anything could have happened. It... has to be something to do with those men who came to our house. Perhaps they were old enemies of your father's, here for revenge. I don't know. I don't know what we should do. I don't know anything,' she whispered weakly, her eyes filling with tears.

'Well we have to search for him of course! Everywhere, every place he could possibly be-'

The ringing of Trunks' mobile interrupted him, and he answered it, noticing that it was Goten's number flashing on the screen.

'Goten, what's up? Any news? What?!!! OK, we'll be right there,' he replied, instantly jumping up off the hospital couch and heading for the exit.

'Now wait a minute Trunks, before you rush off you better tell me what's going on?!! ' Bulma cried angrily, rising up to her full height and placing her hands firmly on her hips.

'We have to get home right now, hurry up!'

'But WHY?!'

Her son's voice was full of urgency. 'Because dad's there!'

A very, very short while later Trunks and Bulma landed on the Capsule Corps front lawn. Trunks had flown there far too quick, and the rough ride had left Bulma with wildly ruffled hair and fighting the urge to be sick. Trunks looked at her and cringed.

'Sorry mum,' he offered sheepishly. 'Guess I got a bit excited?'

'Just open the damned door,' she said through clenched teeth, making him laugh nervously.

But he didn't have to. The door opened itself and out came her parents, Goten, and to their great relief Vegeta, who was holding Bra. Trunks, suddenly recalling his last encounter with his father, did not meet his eye, wondering if he was still very angry. Happiness flooded through Bulma like storm water, but it was quickly replaced by anger.

'Everyone!' she declared quite loudly. 'Can you go inside for a little while so I can have a few minutes to talk to Vegeta alone. Please.'

Everyone began to mutter at this but they could see the gleaming threat in her eyes. She was no woman to contend with when in a rage, and having intimate knowledge of this they all shuffled back into the house, taking Bra with them and leaving the prince standing alone on the front step, staring at his wife with a smug expression on his face.

'Could you come for a little walk with me please?'

'Sure,' he replied, that expression never leaving him, infuriating her to the very core of her being. Once they were some distance from the house she began her tirade, weeks worth of emotions finally overcoming her.

'How could you do this to us Vegeta? How could you? I've never tried to restrict you, you know, I've never tried to keep you here when you felt like going off and venting for a while. As if I'd be such a fool. All I've ever asked of you was that you let me know where you're going and stay in touch, and not even for me, but for our children! Your little girl has been asking me every morning when her father is coming home, for a month! A fucking month! Do you know how long that feels to a child? I hope you're proud of yourself Vegeta, I hope you're happy that your daughter has been crying herself to sleep because you left her without even telling her why!' Tears began to well up in her eyes again, and this time she couldn't contain them. The entire time the prince just stared at her, not interrupting and simply letting her say whatever she pleased without protest, but she was far too worked up to notice how uncharacteristic this was.

'I've been to the hospital, I know what happened. If you were sick then why didn't you just come home?! Don't you trust me anymore? If it's really over between us then fine, leave me, do what you want but don't walk out on your children! Don't forget about them because they still need you! There were men here, looking for you, did you know that? They were in my babie's room! In her room! They could have killed her when they were looking for you!' She was crying so hard now she could barely get the words out.

'If anything... happened to her because you were... I would kill myself, but... but I'd kill you first you bastard!' With these words she struck him in the face, and he didn't raise a hand to stop her. Noticing the lack of resistance she began beating her fists against his chest with all the force her weak body could muster. After a while he put his arms around her awkwardly and she stopped, feeling the energy and anger drain away rapidly, leaving her with just the tears flowing from tired eyes to stain her husband's shirt.

'I'm sorry for everything... Bulma. I handled all this very poorly. You've every right to be angry. But don't worry, everything is well now. You'll never see or hear from those men again, I've done away with them for good. Please, forgive me. We can make things new again.' He took her hands in is own, looked into her eyes and whispered, 'Please?'

Bulma stepped back, peering back into his stoic, unfathomable gaze in confusion. Not a single retort? Would he not try to defend himself, to explain what had happened, to challenge her for disrespecting him? God knows she'd never gone so far as to slap him before. Was he just going to stand here and apologise, then beg for her forgiveness? What the hell was wrong with him?!!

'What... what are you saying? Are you OK?'

'What do you mean what am I saying? I'm asking you to forget all this happened. I'll make you forget everything. I swear to it.'

'I know, it just doesn't sound... are you sure you're OK? You don't seem yourself. Are you still sick?'

'No, I'm fine. Everything is fine,' he reassured her, though she could have sworn she saw a hint of nervousness in his eyes. 'Of course I'm myself... *don't you know me*?'

'What do you mean, of course I know you. Look, let's just go inside, OK? We'll talk later. I didn't mean what I said, I'm sorry. I've just been so worried. I know you weren't well. I swear I didn't mean it, I-'

He silenced her words with a finger over her lips and wiped the fresh tears that had begun to fall and mar her flushed skin. Something about the sight of the blood beneath the translucent surface made him desperately hungry and he leaned forward to kiss her very briefly on the cheek, allowing a small taste that left him struggling to control the screams of his base instincts. He walked off in the direction of the house and she followed him slowly, even more puzzled than before by this act but desperately wanting to believe that he was starting to empathise, to see things her way. Owing to the fact that she was standing behind him, Bulma never saw the sadistic grin that spread across his face.


I open my eyes wide and try to bring my hand to my throat in search of the invasive tubing that's been forced into me, only to find myself paralysed and swallowed by darkness, the air around me stagnant. It seems I'm covered by a thick, warm blanket through which nothing can be seen, but I hear the muted tones coming from the television and the faint sounds of laughter, a laugh I would know anywhere. A horrendous sinking feeling languishes in the pit of my stomach as I am met with the crushing realisation that I am here in this directionless prison once more. The overpowering scents of polished steel and dread permeate my senses as I push the covers away without willing myself to do so; just as before I am not in control of my movements though it is my body that performs them. I am both the actor and the observer, the hovering specter and the unwilling participant in my own past.

*'You wouldn't have to go back...'*

So they have sent me back in time, or have they? How can I know for sure? If this is a real, physical space, then why have I so little control over my actions and reduced control over my thoughts? I stare at the ceiling half expecting to see bugs writhing against each other, covering its squeaky clean surface like in my dream, the one I feel like I dreamed so long ago. The inability to take action, to fight, is suffocating like the smallness of this room that seems to narrow in on me with every breath I take in.

Jeice is sitting up on his bunk with a bottle of gin in one hand and the remote in the other, his eyes glued to the small TV. He changes the channel to some music station he likes, having gotten bored of the soapy he was watching, and starts singing along loudly to a rock ballad. I can't afford to pay attention to this idiocy right now but I also can't regulate my focus. My mind is full of clouds, of closed doors behind which my goal of escape hides, but like in a dream I can't seem to run fast enough to reach the doors and open them. After a while someone starts banging on the wall adjacent my head, startling me.

'Keep it down would you?! Some of us like to bloody well sleep at night you know Jeice!'

'Oh shut up ya wanker,' he yells back, then turns and grins at me. 'An besides, you love it. You love my singin. He loves our singin doesn't he V? Come on we'll sing a duet for im.'

To my great surprise I join in, singing along with him. I'm amazed at how horrific we sound, squalling at the top of our lungs and laughing in the direction of whoever is telling us off. From the opposite side of us we hear another voice. This time it's Recoome.

'Goodness, will you stop? I'm trying to read!' he exclaims in that slow, deep drawl of his.

'Oh c'mon! We all know ya can't read!' Jeice yells back at him.

'Whatever. Sing all you want, I'm going to get in the jacuzzi.'

We hear him get up and walk out of his room. Jeice pulls me to him and starts whispering noisily.

'Hey, I got a really good idea. We gotta go in the pool room while he's in the spa an steal his clothes. And all the towels too. That way he'll 'ave to walk down the halls naked. It's not that late, lots of people will see. C'mon then, let's go.'

I like the sound of this idea very much. We know he'll suspect us and check our room, so we stuff clothes under our blankets and switch off the light to make it look like we're sleeping. He's pretty vacant so it's not like he'll pick up on it. We sneak down the halls as stealthily as possible until we reach the swimming facilities, which like everything else on this ship are very small. We come through the side door quietly then crawl across the floor on our bellies towards the spa bath where Recoome is reclining, his toes up, eyes closed and a pink shower cap on his head. He is singing a love ballad to himself quietly. I have to suppress my laughter, having forgotten over the years what a ridiculous creature he is, perhaps because other memories of him tend to take the forefront. Who knows.

Once we've swiped everything we intended to, we crawl back out of the room and scurry off down the hall unnoticed. We hide in a storage cupboard near the mess hall, the largest room on this ship, that he'll soon have to walk past. It's not long before we hear him stomping down the hall in our direction, swearing his head off. Cat calls and whistles can be heard from the mess hall, and through the crack in the door me and Jeice can see Recoome walking by, his face red, holding the pink shower cap over his crotch.

'Oh, divine,' we hear Zarbon's voice ring out, and Dodoria says something about pink really being Recoome's colour, then more all around laughter. We fall over each other in the cupboard, nearly choking from trying to contain ourselves. I feel something shift inside me and suddenly we are back in our room, laying on our beds. Our reappearance here happened so fast I could barely sense it, but I can hear Recoome muttering angrily in the next room so I know when and where I am. I can also feel a presence very close to me, and realise Jeice is lying there, pressed up against my back. I recall, from whisperings somewhere in the corridors of the past, him saying he feels lonely. He says so sometimes, usually when he's drunk. And then he comes and lays beside me like this, rests his hand on my waist. Its so cold on this ship, he says. It would be nice to have a girl here. Someone to warm your bed every now an then. He just wants a hug, he says.

I don't understand what he means. We didn't 'hug' much where I came from. Public affection just wasn't the done thing. It was seen as a display of weakness, so what sense can I make out of it? I can see from observing the smallness of my own hand, resting on the pillow before my eyes, that I'm too young to understand anyway. However I have to admit, if only to myself, that in these grueling, hateful months that have gone by since finding out I will not be returning to my planet, I too have felt lonely. And something about contact with another person eases this.

My heart begins to beat faster, and my mouth becomes dry. I'm trembling. Something is wrong, but I don't know what. Something either is wrong or will be. I want to get up, to run, out of this room, out of this ship, away from the fact of what is, out of my own skin if I have to. I just want this feeling of inevitability to leave me. I can feel Jeice breathing against my neck a little louder than before and wonder if he's asleep, realising he isn't when his hand starts to trace its way up and down my thigh, over my stomach. I move away, slightly annoyed, but he pulls me back to him. His hand keep wandering, like an insect looking for food. I feel it slip between my legs. Heat rushes into my cheeks and I push the hand away, thinking he must have done it accidentally, but as soon as I've done so he just puts it right back where it was. This time he slips it down my pants. I freeze, confused, my face burning. What is he doing? I grab his hand but I can't pull it away this time because he resists.

'Stop it,' I hiss at him. He ignores me. 'Get away!' I say it louder this time and try to push him away altogether.

'Don't be like that,' he giggles, and curls his hand around my thing. Mortified, I try as hard as I can to wriggle away from him. How could he be so disrespectful?! He starts moving the invasive hand up and down, rubbing, and I grab his wrist once again, trying to pry it off. His free hand grabs hold of my own wrist in a flash, squeezing it so I'll stop interfering. I can actually hear the bones pop and I gasp, my wrist falling limp by my side. His free hand now rises to cover my mouth.

'Shh...' he whispers. 'Don't you like it?'

I whimper into his hand. My wrist is broken, I can feel it swelling already. Like it? What's wrong with him? Why would I? What does that even mean? Blistering fury fills me, pushing aside the embarrassment for a moment. When I say I don't want to do something, nobody around here ever listens. They never fucking listen! Just because some of them rank above me, doesn't mean I have to do every lowly task they want me to, I'm not some pathetic little slave! We have slaves for that purpose! Whenever I say no to something (though it was never anything like this before), I'm forced, just like I'm being forced now. It makes me blind with anger. How dare they disrespect me, I'm the prince of saiyans, and I'll be stronger than all of them some day. They should know that! How could they be such idiots, digging away at their own graves?

And how could I be so weak...?

The thought makes me shiver and a sense of urgency fills me, causing me to continue fighting back despite how hopeless it seems, how hopeless it is. I keep trying, but I can't concentrate- he's making me feel so funny. My present self tries to break through the childish mind and the young, weak body to stop this. It remains trapped in the cage of paralysis but for one moment. I break free and am able to think again for a while, yet I do nothing, too stunned by what I'm re-experiencing to act. So perhaps I'm not really free at all. Over the years I've always had flashes of these... things forcing their way through, in dreams, in those brief moments where you don't even realise you're thinking, whenever a scent or a sound reminds me. But rarely do I see it and feel it all like this. I spend so much energy pushing it down, keeping it at bay, never willingly thinking about it.

He won't stop no matter how much I squirm and I find it harder and harder to move. Overwhelmed by the alien sensations I begin to cooperate with him, lying still in his arms, lost. I'm not really thinking anymore, not aware of the clothes falling away from my body. I do notice when he withdraws his hand though, and while I should be relieved, I'm not. The sense of urgency returns but it's different this time. I feel a growing fire in the pit of my belly as he pulls me to him, bringing our hips together and rubbing up against me, making my breath hitch in my throat.

'See, I knew ya'd like it,' he whispers. My body goes into a spasm, unlike anything I've ever felt before, but just beneath it all I can feel the throbbing in my wrist and hear his mocking words, filling me with dreadful indignation. I begin to struggle again with renewed fury as his hard, heated flesh slides over mine and quiet sounds spill from his lips as if he's in pain. Cold surprise stuns me as I feel warm, slimy wetness soak my crotch. His body goes limp and I push him away roughly, getting up and running into the cramped bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind me. The first thing I see is the steely, malicious glint of the mirror in the darkness, revealing a sliver of my reflection and driving panic into my mind like a knife. I turn away in horror, sliding down the door frame to rest on my shaking knees.

My scattered mind is reeling, astounded at being treated in such a humiliating way and painfully confused about my own response to it. Desperate to will it all away as though it never happened but unable to get what I want, I raise my broken, protesting wrist in frustration, bringing it down against the tiled floor and watching the spidery cracks spread from the place of impact. Pain rocks me as bone shatters, puncturing the already swollen flesh. I hear my name being called from the other side in a distorted voice, and the ground begins to undulate, strings of colours slithering across it like snakes. I can see the pain now though that shouldn't be possible, can see it exploding inside my nerves like brilliant fireworks. My head is spinning violently, unable to bear another moment of this night, and I fall.

...It's always best when the light is off, It's always better on the outside.Fifteen blows to the back of your head, Fifteen blows to your mind.So lock the kids up safe tonight, And shut the eyes in the cupboard.And either way you turn, I'll be thereOpen up your skull, I'll be thereClimbing up the walls...

That actually turned out milder than I thought it would, but trust me, it's gunna get much worse *evil grin*. NEXT TIME: no longer in control of his own mind, Vegeta begins to forget himself, consumed by the horrors that were once locked away beneath the surface. At Capsule Corp everything seems fine, but one little girl isn't decieved so easily by appearances.


Please R & R and let me know what you think! I could use some encouragement or critique :)