Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Lab Monkey ❯ Inhumane ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: It's mine, all mine! I wrote it, directed it and more importantly I made Vegeta do sexual acts in order to gain a lead role. Then again, if the lawyers come I could always claim insanity.

Chapter Two

Inhumane

The first day she did not come, he shrugged it off. He had grown used to her daily presence, but he wasn't overly concerned with her absence. He sat silently staring at the paneled ceiling of his cell, while his demented mind created images in the textured contours. He relived his bloody past battles in detail, seeing bodies as they were heaped into a pile to be burned to prevent disease for the newest inhabitants. He saw Frieza's gapping maw as he crowed victoriously while standing over the beaten Saiyan, his tail waving maliciously in the background. Eventually he grew bored with that particular past time and he turned his head so he could stare at his distorted visage in the polished metal. He glared menacingly, baring his teeth, momentarily reassuring himself that he had not completely forgotten his brutal nature, but that only burned a few minutes away.

The second day that she failed to appear, his eyes hardened into gleaming onyx gems and he began to brood, dreadful thoughts swirling in his fertile mind. He turned his black fathomless eyes onto the scurrying scientist, watching them with predatory scrutiny. They noticed his surveillance, but they ignored the shivers of fear that scampered down their spines. They knew better than to approach the alien in their midst. As excited as they were at the prospect of studying a real live specimen, his hostility was a tangible thing. It seemed that the tentacles of his seething aura could reach out and grasp you by the neck, strangling the very life from you by sheer force of will. They had no desire to test the theory that had been hatched at the water cooler. That the prince could kill a man with a thought, by a mere narrowing of his sadistic eyes. He was evil, pure and unholy. They stayed as far away as possible.

By the third day he was pacing his cage like a jungle cat. His fists clenched and unclenched by his sides and his lips curled back from his ivory fangs. His tail lashed violently behind him, the normally sleek fur bristling with agitation. He began to strike out at the walls, unable to dent the smooth steel. He howled with fury and he cursed the blue-haired witch that had ensnared him. He vowed to destroy her and her little force field too. The longer he stayed under the glow of her invisible wall, the weaker he became as it sucked his ki away, until he was only a shadow of his former self. His hellish eyes skinned the helpless scientists where they stood and more than one fled the room in terror. Towards the end of the day his deep growls and deadly snarls cleared the lab entirely, leaving him alone with his uncertain assumptions.

As the evening wore on the lighting dimmed, signifying the lateness of the day. Only his florescent bulb remained lit as always. If he wasn't so used to adversity he would have gone mad from the lack of rest, but as it was he had to sleep with constant light once before and he easily ignored their inconsideration. He continued to pace, stopping every few minutes to gesture rudely at the camera. Where was she? Had she abandoned him? Were they going to kill him soon? There was no doubt in Vegeta's mind that as soon as these humans were done studying him they would dispose of him. If the Bitch Queen had lost interest in him, then it could very well herald the end of his ill fated existence.

Frustrated, he tore off his tattered blue under shirt, still stained and torn from his last battle. He stalked over to the sink, turning the tap on cold, splashing his chest and face with the icy water. His skin tightened over his muscles at the shocking cold and his pectorals flexed in response. He heard the swish of the outer lab door and he paused in his ministrations, glancing out of the corner of his eye to see who dared to intrude on him. He saw a flash of blue and he reared up, glaring into the darkened lab.

Bulma strode into the room, her mouth drawn into a thin line of distaste. She had been bombarded with complaints of the Saiyan's behavior and she had come to investigate the problem. She skidded to a stop when she saw him stand up, shaking his head like a dog, splattering water everywhere. She watched in stunned awe as droplets, caught in the light and glittering like diamonds, rolled down his chiseled chest, accentuating every indentation of his flesh. She had never seen a body so perfectly proportioned. Sheer power, encased in sculpted bronze.

"Where the fuck have you been, you bitch?" He snarled ferociously, jolting her out of her reprieve. Her face reddened at the insult and she felt the familiar hate bubble up inside of her.

"None of your business, you asshole." She hissed and he watched with fascination as her eyes began to sparkle with cerulean fire. His features darkened as he observed her increased heart rate and her rapid pulse. All were signs of deceit.

"Plotting my death, slank?" He latched his arm up over the portal, staring intently at his newest nemesis. She was a far more dangerous enemy than Frieza. She would not honor him with a death in battle, but would more than likely slay him in his sleep. Too bad he wouldn't have the pleasure of pinning her beneath him anytime soon. His lip curled at the inane thought, showing a hint of his fangs.

Bulma felt her pulse flutter as she watched his muscles ripple across his chest when he leaned casually against the door frame. Once again she was struck by his perfection. A true work of art. Yamcha had never looked so beautiful. Her mouth tightened as her thoughts turned to her dead lover.

"Only animals bathe in the sink. Do you drink out of the toilet too?" Her hands clenched into tight fists as she watched him smirk at her. He flashed his teeth, just before he turned away to pick up his shirt.

"You haven't seen fit to provide me with a bathing chamber since I got here. As a warrior I can make do with what I have, but I have seen animals receive better treatment from their captors." He bent over, snatching his shirt up from the ground and dropping it over his head. He ignored her gasp, figuring he had struck a nerve with his last comment.

He turned back to see her pale face and her hand clasped over her mouth in horror. Her wide eyes locked with his and he could see pity flickering in their depths. He snarled, advancing towards her with deadly intent, but the barrier halted his procession.

"What the fuck is your problem now?" He rasped. He could handle anger, hatred and even fear in another's eyes, but he would not tolerate pity. He didn't even know what had caused such a reaction from her. All he knew was that he wanted to wrap his hands around her fragile neck and shake the life from her for daring to express that emotion around him.

Bulma swallowed hard as she tried to calm her rioting feelings. When Vegeta had turned his back on her, she had been able to see the numerous whip marks crisscrossing his back. The raised welts left no spot untouched, leaving his back a mass of mutilated scar tissue. She had never seen something so abominable in her life. That amount of damage could only have been achieved by years of endless beatings. She couldn't stop the compassion that rose to the surface, overshadowing her hate for him. She saw the flash of anger in his eyes when he witnessed her commiseration and she quickly shoved it back down into the pit of her stomach.

"Yes of course. You are right. I had meant to outfit a larger room for you with the necessary accommodations like a shower, much earlier, but I have been working on another project." Bulma was aghast at her lack of humanity. She had left him to rot in this woefully inadequate cell for weeks, without even the ability to bath himself properly. Even killers in maximum security penitentiaries received better treatment.

"Stow it human. Let's be honest shall we? Once you are done with your poking and prodding you fully intend to kill me. Just admit it and get it over with." Vegeta began to pace the room, his tail whipping madly behind him. His helplessness was eating at him like a plague. He had to escape, he had to get out. He had not survived years of enslavement under Frieza's rule only to die at the whim of some she-bitch from hell.

Bulma's eyes widened in shock at his statement. Was that that what he thought? That they were going to kill him? She looked down at the floor, desperately trying to sort through her jangled thoughts. What was she going to do with him? She hadn't given it much thought beyond stopping him from killing her friends. Now that she had him caged she had no earthly idea as to what to do. Was she going to be his warden for the rest of their lives? Bulma shook her head. She didn't have time to contemplate this now. She was too busy to worry about it.

"No, I'm not going to kill you. I probably should, but I could never take another's life." Her voice was soft and he was enthralled with the soft azure of her eyes. In all of his travels he had never seen a creature quite like her. Well, perhaps he had, on some distant world. Right before he obliterated it.

He snorted at her comment. Her words were so innocent, so completely false. There are certain truths that were universal. It was his experience that beings liked to hurt each other. It was a primal pleasure that many indulged in. Secondly, no matter how peace-loving or kind, when faced with extermination even the most good-natured creature could turn on you like a rabid animal, clawing, hissing and biting. Survival was instinctual and many would kill before being killed themselves.

"You have already taken my life!" He flung his arm carelessly, indicating the walls to his cage. "You are killing me slowly, every minute you leave me in this hell hole." He hissed through clenched teeth.

"Well we can't have you running wild, now can we? No one ever died from a little forced inactivity. Now, once I have finished my project I will get started on your new cell, but until then you are just going to have to wait." She was unaffected by his impassioned plea. She would rather eat hot coals then let this mad man loose on the populace. He was her responsibility now. For better or worse.

Vegeta felt the rage that boiled just below the surface erupt with ferocious veracity. He reached down to deepest recesses of his dark soul and pulled forth the last remaining energy that was pooled inside of him. He grabbed a hold of the frame of his bed that was bolted into the floor, wrenching it away from the ground with a screech of rending metal and flung it towards his jailer.

She gasped and jumped back, putting more distance between her and the killer that she had trapped. The cot slammed against the invisible wall, sparking as the metal flattened from the force the velocity, before rebounding and clattering to the floor. He snatched it up again, this time throwing it against the far wall with rancorous fury. He attacked the offense piece of furniture for a full five minutes, twisting the skeletal frame into an unusable hunk of metal. White tuffs of cotton floated serenely in the air around him, seemly disputing the whirlwind of wrath that was manifesting itself in the image of a man. Bulma was struck by the insane thought that it was snowing inside his dreary prison cell.

Unexpectedly Vegeta halted, his chest heaving as he tried to calm himself. His precious strength left him abruptly and he collapsed to his knees, his head bowed under the pale flickering light. Bulma had backed herself up against a desk and was half way reclined on the surface, her upper body as far away as possible from the angry man. Her hand reflexively clutched her throat and she could almost feel his fingers wrapping around her slender neck.

She drew a shuddering breath and hastily righted herself, brushing her rumpled clothes with shaking hands. She had to regain control of her body, to rein in her visible panic at his outburst. If there was one thing that she had learned while studying this man was that he abhorred weakness in any form and showing him fear would only reinforce his disgust of her. She took a couple of steps forward, stunned that he allowed himself to remain on the floor. He leaned forward on his knuckles and dry hacking coughs shook his crumpled form making her grimace.

Taking another bold step forward she peered down at the fallen warrior, concern etching across her features now that her initial fright had passed.

"A-are you okay?" She cleared her throat, desperately trying to sound nonchalant and failing horribly.

After the spasms passed, Vegeta continued to kneel on the floor, his back to the nitwit human that haunted him. He was completely defenseless now. She had stolen the last of his strength with her thoughtless words. He hated Frieza with a single minded intensity, but this woman was clawing her way to the top of his list. He clenched his eyes shut as her soft voice wound its way around him, soothing his howling soul. He just wished he understood why he was randomly struck with the urge to lick her soft lips rather than strangle the life from her. He brushed the thought away, blaming it on the lack of female companionship for the last few weeks.

"You have no idea do you? Every second I'm in this cage," he spat the word. "The more of my essence it sucks away. A warrior's ki is their life force, more important than blood and you are draining it from me like some sort of freakish succubus." His words grated over her and she felt her stomach drop. He looked broken, kneeling in the light, like a child who had lost everything or a man who had no reason to live. She paled at his words, dread blooming deep inside of her. Was what he was saying true? Was she killing him? She could never kill another living being. It was wrong on every level.

"I will fix it." She vowed in a rush, desperate to repair the damage she had caused. "I will find out what the problem is and I will solve it. I promise."

He growled, knowing that his present course of conversation was a waste of time. He would never get her to confess her intent and he was weary of contemplating his future. He knew that she would kill him in the end, no matter how sincere her broken promises sounded. He levered himself off the floor, disdaining to show any more weakness than he already had. He could not allow her to see how frail his mind and body had become.

"So when pray tell, will I be getting these luxurious accommodations?" He hissed scornfully, his obsidian eyes scanning her flawless complexion. She shrugged as she moved over to her work station to examine some left over paperwork. Her heart was still pounding loudly and she needed to look at anything else besides the fearsome male.

"A week, maybe two. It depends on how long it takes me to complete the plans for the space drive." She flipped through her the statistical layouts that were scattered on her desk.

"Great! So I'm just supposed to sit here in my own filth, slowly dying, while you play around with your harebrained inventions." He snarled while taking a perverse delight in the scarlet color that stained her cheeks.

"One, my inventions are not harebrained." She pounced on the opportunity to change the subject. "I happened to have built a Galaxy Class Battle Cruiser. The first interstellar spaceship ever, excluding the pod that I sent the boys off in, and I am presenting it to the UN later this week." She rubbed her hands together in delight as her anger faded into excitement. "We are going to start exploring space!" She glanced over at the Saiyan and a frown reclaimed her features. "And two, if you would take the clothes we offered you, then you wouldn't stink so bad." She huffed at the warrior.

"I will not lower myself to dress in human clothes." Vegeta's comment was by rote, but his agile mind was already processing this new influx of information.

Vegeta had listened to her spiel carefully and his eyes narrowed in consideration. The despair that dragged him down had been due in part to the destruction of his pod. She had torn apart the only three spaceships on this world in order to create a much larger one that her friends used to venture to Namek. He had been certain that even if he did escape from this god forsaken lab, he would still be stranded on this backwater mud ball. It appeared now, that it wouldn't be the case. This no good waste of skin, seemed to have engineered a whole new ship and Vegeta took a marked interest in this.

Bulma turned her back on the cold warrior, deciding it was in her best interest to ignore the brute. He was only trying to rile her now and she didn't want to get dragged down that path. He was the only person she knew that could give her a verbal trouncing that actually stung her pride.

"So tell me Bitchess, when will you be done with this ship?" Vegeta's husky words sent shivers down her spine. He managed to make his insult sound like an endearment, but the underlying tone of sarcasm was sharp. She licked her lips as she felt a rush of heat in her belly and she answered without forethought.

"A month or so." She turned to see his piercing eyes boring into her. Her heart raced at the deadly desire that blazed in their dark depths.

"Why do you want to know?" She questioned ignorantly. His only response was a sly smile that made her bones melt and he turned away from her to glare down at what was left of his cot. His wickedness ebbed from him in sinful waves and Bulma wanted to slap herself for her stupidity.

Great Bulma, tell the evil man that there is a chance for escape. Why don't you unlock his cell while you are at it?

She gathered up her files and stalked out of the room, double damning her wayward tongue and unruly libido.