Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Repeat ❯ Repeat ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I say it in every fic; I own nothing but my sick and twisted mind. I don't own Dragonball Z, I don't own any of the characters, and I especially don't own Vegeta! It's so damn depressing, I'm telling you. I own both episodes where he dies on DVD though. Does that count for anything? Oh yeah. You know you like a character when your favourite episodes are those where he dies and/or is brutally beaten by a psychotic lizard. Sadistic? Me? Why thank you.

 

A/N: Hey, look, another chibi Vegeta fic! There's a surprise! Have I mentioned I'm quite fond of Vegeta? (No!-a shocked world). Anyway. When I wrote Distorted, I had quite a few requests to write more about Vegeta when he was under Frieza, so here it is. I think I'm going to do a series of one-shots, based on our favourite Saiyan prince. This is already the third. So go me.

 

 

 

Repeat

 

 

It was strange really, that he could let abuse rain down on him and still think of other things. Kind of ironic really. He knew he was being punished for something, but he couldn't remember what. Maybe he was being trained, not punished. He often got the two mixed up. It was hard to tell them apart. But it didn't really matter; either one ended the same. He would finally drop into unconsciousness and wake up an undetermined time later in a rejuvenation tank, fully healed, so they could do it all over again.

Oh, wait, someone was yelling something. Something about a planet…the last planet he was sent to purge…oh yes, now he remembered. Planet Kamasei. He was supposed to leave some of them alive…thirty percent, he thought. They would have made good slaves apparently; they were resilient and didn't wear out quickly.

He remembered their planet, burning, the smell of charred flesh and molten metal permeating the air, the flame rising in a roaring tribute to his power. He enjoyed the killing. It made him feel powerful. It made him feel in control.

Sometimes though, it was hard to stop.

So that was probably why he was being beaten now. For killing all the inhabitants, instead of merely seventy percent. He was being punished for being too ruthless on a ship full of men who wouldn't hesitate to kill him if they could.

The irony made him smile.

Though, in retrospect, he contemplated, as a gloved fist slammed repeatedly into his abdomen and he felt bone crunching and snapping, perhaps smiling wasn't the best thing to do. No doubt his abuser thought it was aimed at him.

Oh. He didn't think that was supposed to bend that way. And judging by the way his mangled arm was now hanging from his shoulder at an odd angle, he was probably right.

He wondered vaguely if he'd be allowed to crawl into a rejuvenation tank soon. He hoped so. He was pretty sure that much more of this and his brain was going to give in. And he needed his sanity. Knowing that he was the only sane person surrounded by maniacs was what kept him going.

Although you could never assume that just be someone was completely crazy that they weren't smart. Frieza was the most insane of them all, and he was a genius. The boy hated to admit it, but it was true. You had to be careful around Frieza, because any tiny thing could set him off. You couldn't even assume you were safe when he was in a good mood. A lot of the time he was in a good mood when he was hurting people. Vegeta was fairly certain hurting people was what put him in a good mood.

Sadistic bastard.

Ah, and there went his left leg. Well, fighting back was completely useless now, when you couldn't kick and you couldn't punch. Best just to lie here and hope he passed out soon.

Come on, get it over with soon.

Sometimes, when he was in bed, in that moment just between sleep and awaking, when he was still not quite aware of what he was thinking, he wanted to die. But that would always wake him up fully, and he'd be furious at himself for having such weak thoughts. He was the prince of all Saiyans. He would not die. He would live on in memory of all the Saiyans that were now dead. He would survive so that one day he would beat Frieza. And he would not give them the pleasure of knowing they had broken him.

His vision faded, and he knew no more until he woke again in the tank. Every beating made him stronger. If he kept up like this, then he would be stronger than Frieza, even if he was nowhere near it now. He smirked at this thought. Frieza was creating his own demise.

But still, it didn't make the pain any more enjoyable. It still hurt. It still made him want to scream and cry and beg. But he didn't because he was the prince of all Saiyans, and refused to lower himself like that.

Eyes open slowly, return to the waking world.

Three days later he was back in the same position. Well almost, different attacker this time. It hardly mattered. It was all the same. It went round in a circle; so predictable and obvious he wanted to scream at the monotony of it all.

It was Frieza himself this time. And, despite all his arrogant thoughts in that tank, this attack brought him painfully to his senses. He wasn't strong enough. He would never be strong enough. One day, he may be able to beat Frieza's henchmen, but the lizard would always be so much more powerful. And he would remain here forever. There was no freedom from him. He would be in this position, lying broken and bloody at the tyrant's feet, to be healed, to be beaten, to be healed, to be beaten. Over and over and over and over. There was no escape.

He was stuck in repeat.

 

 

 

 

 

A/N: okay, shameless self-advertising time now. If you liked reading this then I suggest you go read Distorted and Flames, the other two fics in my chibi Vegeta series. They're quite good if I do say so myself, and plus I like it when people read my stories! ^_^