Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Revenge: An Earthling's Retribution ❯ Chapter 2

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

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Chapter Two

“I am Bulma Briefs and this is my revenge. This is an Earthlings Retribution.”

With those two deadly sentences the door to the Saiyan King’s chambers was violently pushed open almost removing it completely from its strong hinges.

A shorter replica of the Saiyan King stood shell shocked in the doorway, one hand still holding the door open. His piercing black pupils shrinking in utter bewilderment. However it wasn’t long before comprehension dawned in his dark gaze from the sight of his almost decomposed father to the woman standing over the dead body.

He turned to relentlessly glare at her with the full blast of his fury and promises of a slow and torturous death …

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The moment the Prince of all Saiyans powerful feet stepped onto the grey cobblestones of his home he knew something was very wrong.

He couldn’t explain why the sudden prickling sensation of foreboding alerted his keen senses to some imminent disaster that he would find upon his arrival. He was not the type of being who claimed any sort of special ability of foresight into the sixth sense but he did pride himself on his intelligence. Truth be told, he prided himself on everything.

He sniffed the air around him as if trying to smell anything out of the ordinary but could find nothing out of place in his surroundings. Though the warning that something was off still nagged at him.

‘Father.’ He tried to communicate with his father using their telepathy skills but unfortunately no answer was received. His neck prickled with tension as the guards in the foyer bowed before him. Something was very wrong indeed.

Barely acknowledging the bowing guards lined on either side of him, expecting nothing less from them, Vegeta placed the rosy red glass of his scouter over his left eye.

“Zorn.” He called for his father’s personal guard and immediately his scouter flashed a reply.

“Prince Vegeta. You have arrived earlier than expected.” Zorn replied in slight surprise. “Your father has retired for the night.”

On any other day Vegeta would have smirked at the competence of Zorn who knew how dangerous it was to waste the young Prince’s time. Vegeta was not a patient man after all. But something was not right within the Castle and a frown creased his ruggedly handsome face.

“I will be paying him a visit none the less.” Vegeta replied firmly before ending the communication link with Zorn, cutting off any protests the King’s guard would have went on to make. His father wasn’t expecting him until tomorrow but he had wrapped up some business earlier than expected. He didn’t think his father would be too pleased with him barging through his doors at this hour but it didn’t make sense for the old man to not reply to his son’s telepathic calling.

Even if he had retired for the night, the old shark was never unaware of his surroundings. And he always replied to telepathy. Always. For some strange reason he felt the need to see his father immediately. They were not a race that was afflicted by emotion but they were not exempt from feeling for their own flesh and blood.

Nappa, his own personal guard, fell into step beside him as they continued down the long hallways of the Castle before reaching the entryway.

“I’m off to the kitchen to get some food.” The bald headed Saiyan, who was as large as a giant, told his Prince as he rubbed hungrily at his stomach.

Vegeta nodded acceptingly and continued towards his own destination without another word. There was a lot going on in the Prince’s mind lately. Things on his last mission had gone well enough considering it had only been Nappa and himself but still, the air in the Universe had shifted.

There was an undeniable musk of trouble that would soon suffocate their races dominance if they let things get any more out of hand. That trouble was cold Frieza. He inwardly growled at the thought of his enemy as his gloved hands were clenched into tight fists. Frieza was definitely becoming a thorn in their sides. He needed to be removed immediately.

But how that would happen was still to be decided. No one on this side of the galaxy had yet to come face to face with Frieza to know what he looked like let alone get an accurate reading on his power levels. It was all just hear say about the horrors of Frieza and his ruthless henchmen. And the rumours were starting to say that the Ice-jin was after the Saiyan Empire.

What did that mean exactly? For years now the Saiyans and Ice-jins had played a game of who could make their Empire grow bigger and better, faster, but they had always had a silent agreement that once a Planet was conquered by one race it was off limits to the other. Now however it seemed that that non-verbal agreement had been taken off the table. The game had been taken to a whole new level.

The Ice-jins were re-purging Planets under the Saiyan rule and the Saiyans were almost helpless in stopping them. Hundreds of Planets in their reign, thousands of people under their rule were starting to deflect. People were beginning to question their protection under Saiyan treaties and possibly realigning themselves with the Ice-jins. The Saiyans could not afford to lose any more Planets.

Again he growled in irritation not happy knowing that he had been bested in some way. He wanted to face Frieza head on and tear him limb for limb. He wanted to prove himself the strongest warrior in the Universe and end any doubts about his race’s strength once and for all. But Frieza insisted on playing this game of cat and mouse with the Saiyans, rubbing his elusiveness after his victories in their faces.

They needed to act fast or their entire Empire, all their hard work, all that was theirs would be stolen from them. Stolen from right under their noses.

And curse that Frieza who was so greedy, he was placing his filthy claws into the Saiyan’s territory. He did not just come right out and declare war on the Saiyans for he knew to do that would be foolish. A war would leave almost nothing for him to rule. No, he was cunningly sabotaging the Saiyans. Taking over weaker Planets or re-purging Planets that had already been sold and claiming it for his own. Ensuring the beings turned traitors on the Saiyans and gave their allegiance to him. ‘Cowards.’

The Saiyans were being beaten at their own game. They were helpless, they didn’t always know where the blasted Ice-jin would strike next and they were bested more times than not. They were losing commodities and their market had dropped drastically in the past year. They had even lost stronger planets completely. Those who refused to bow to Frieza’s demands and join his ranks had their home worlds destroyed completely. The Saiyans tried to fight fire with fire but it wasn’t as easy as Frieza made it.

He would have to find a way to stop Frieza. If only the coward would show himself then he would beat the Ice-jin to within an inch of his life and hang him out for the entire Universe to see what happened to those who went against a Saiyan. But it was obvious that the bastard was scared of the Saiyans or he wouldn’t be hiding behind his games of hide and seek, cowardly stealing from them. As much as Frieza was an unknown entity to the Saiyans he himself didn’t know the full potential of the strongest Saiyan warriors. Therefore he was biding his time, trying to infiltrate the Saiyan’s rule and pounce on their weaknesses. If he challenged them outright, he could possibly loose.

Frieza was known to be strong and wicked. But it was his intelligence and craftiness that was beginning to unsettle the Saiyans. They were completely unsure of what they were up against. They had managed to ward off some danger by protecting Planets of late and killing some of Frieza’s men but it wasn’t enough. While Frieza was gaining direct information on the Saiyans during these battles they were coming out with nothing but frustration and loose ends. Not one of Frieza’s men would talk. They were all willing to die before divulging any information that could disadvantage the tyrant they so feared. They killed themselves before answers could be pried from them.

The Saiyans couldn’t not fight. It wasn’t in their blood to turn away from a good battle and they had no choice but to protect what was theirs. Frieza had placed them in between a rock and a hard place and what was more annoying was that the bastard knew it.

Thoughts of Frieza temporarily drifted to the back of his mind as he approached his father’s chambers. Vegeta hesitated at the closed door, not wanting to knock at it if his father was really asleep. He hated disturbing his King because the man was a very difficult person when disturbed. He decided he would just open the door very quietly and simply peer inside the room. If his father had retired for the night then he would silently leave.

For the first time in his twenty-five years of existence he felt apprehension at opening his father’s door. He growled at the door as if it was offensive to remain closed to him and not simply open itself at his presence.

Vegeta hated this cowardly approach but he was in no mood to deal with his father’s temper straight after arriving home from a mission. His eyes darted across the lightened room and when it found what he was looking for his mouth dropped open in complete shock.

Vegeta forcefully pushed the door open fully. He heard the hinges creak in protest and the sound seemed to ring continuously in his head, like a punch to the skull, at the scene before him.

What looked like his father lay motionless and melted on the crème carpet. Slimy flesh pooled around him. If he was not in his father’s room, looking at the distinguishable flame shaped hair separated from the King’s scalp, coupled with the unmistakable smell of his father’s spilt blood he would have thought that his eyes were deceiving him. Surely his father could not be dead.

He looked up to see a woman hovering uncertainly over his father’s lifeless body, her strangely coloured eyes darting to him in panic and fear. He felt a raw spurt of energy erupt from within himself threatening to overcome his senses. He stared dangerously at her promising her endless pain and suffering for just being in the same room when her screeching broke through his angry reverie.

“Oh no. The King, the King …” she wailed.

The Prince winced at her sharp voice but decided to tamp down on his anger and the swirling mass of other unnameable emotions for now. Bending down he lifted a hand towards his father but his fingers hovered hesitantly over the melted man. He watched her watch him from the corner of his eyes, always aware of his surroundings, and his body shook with rage. Could he even tell if his father had a pulse? The King was so disfigured.

Deciding to steel his resolve he placed two fingers where a pulse should have been although he already knew he would feel nothing. He hadn’t expected though for his fingers to dip into his father’s flesh like it was nothing but goo and he couldn’t help the shock that widened his mouth.

“I’ll get help.” She spoke softly this time and got off her knees heading towards the door.

Bulma could easily identify who the man who had intruded on her was. She would have had to be blind not to see the uncanny resemblance between the Saiyan King and this man. He was Prince Vegeta, oldest son to the Saiyan King.

‘Fuck.’ She inwardly cursed. Of all the people to have to walk in on her while she stood over the dead King, it had to be the King’s son. The strongest and most feared man on the Planet whose reputation preceded him in the Universe. She gulped nervously knowing that she would have to control her fear and the powerful urge to flee.

She would have to play him as best as she could. However she knew from what she had heard of his intelligence that it would not be an easy feat to accomplish. Swallowing hard to push back the fear she dropped to her knees and wailed for the King. She watched as she had broken through his stunned stupor and he had bent down to examine his father. If she hadn’t been so scared or watching from the inside she would have been thrilled to bear witness to this moment. The dead King found by his own son.

As his fingers delved into the soft flesh of his father she had seen the shock pale his face as his sharply defined features twitched from barely contained rage. Seeing this as an ideal opportunity she made to leave on the pretence of getting help.

“I’ll get help.” She spoke softly as if it were a secret that only they shared knowing that she had to force every ounce of sincerity she could muster into her words. She hoped he believed her and he could sense fake hope that his father could be helped in her voice.  

When he made no move to acknowledge her words she stood up again and walked quickly towards the open door hoping he’d think her eager to get help. She was almost at the door and she dragged in an unsteady breath through her mouth. ‘One more step.’ She cajoled her weak legs. ‘Yes.’ Her eyes growing larger as they focused on the door as if she was trying to keep it from moving away from her. Slowly she reached for the door knob. Her slender fingers tingling to touch the chance of her escape.

Bulma blinked her strained eyes and within that millisecond the door closed shut furiously, denying her the opportunity to leave the now suffocating room. The loud bang made her gasp in shock. She had no time to stop her momentum and placed her hands out before her to stop herself from crashing into the door. ‘No.’

Before she could reach for the large doorknob his strong hand dug painfully into her upper arm turning her around violently to face him. She flinched as Vegeta pushed her roughly against the wooden door its hardness pressing into her back harshly.

She needed to calm down. She needed to breathe. And fast. Putting on her game face she looked up at him in complete innocence with a touch of fear hoping that the scent would calm him down by letting him know he was more powerful than her.

Vegeta stared at the woman he had pinned against the door. She looked up at him with her large blue eyes filled with confusion and innocence but it was at complete war with the fear that radiated from her. He could smell its tangy, suffocating scent roll of her flesh in waves.

“Who the fuck are you and what did you do to my father?” His voice was eerily soft and calm, its raspy tones making her gulp in fear. ‘The calm before the storm.’ The thought entered unbidden into the overworking mechanics of her mind.

“I didn’t do anything.” She denied, her big, blue eyes growing larger. When he lifted a pitch black, winged eyebrow sceptically at her she shook her head vehemently. “I swear, I did nothing.” She promised. “We were sitting on the couch when he just started to … started to melt.” She explained brokenly as if she couldn’t understand what had happened to him.

“Why is there a wig on the floor then?” He questioned, motioning towards the item in question with a nod of his head. The black stitch of short strands of hair seemed completely suspicious in this situation.

“I know Saiyans prefer dark colouring so I wore it to please the King.” She thought quickly, the words easily flowing from her lips. Thanking God for her sharp wit.

He took a step back abruptly releasing her from his menacing hold and she sagged against the door feeling a little of her fear from his close proximity ebb away from her tense shoulders. She sighed out the breath she had had no idea she had been holding. Lifting her hands Bulma rubbed at the already bruising skin on her arms. She watched him wearily feeling like he were a bomb who was just about to explode, not sure if she should say something or not. Knowing full well that she could not escape him now that she was firmly in his sights. The calm before the storm.

The words ran through her mind again, refusing to die down even when she chased at it courageously. The room was deadly quite though in her mind she could hear the rolling claps of thunder, she could see the sharp sparks of lighting, she could feel the cold sting of the howling wind and she could almost taste the harsh downpour of the rain that was soon to follow …

“You lie!” He barked loudly, suddenly, his voice deadly as his large fist flew past her face and cracked at the door. She shrieked in fear and shock at his violent reaction. Even though her mind had been preparing her for such a wild act she still reacted to it as if it were completely unexpected. Like the deep, shuddering breath you took in when the heavy showers off the storm first touched your bare skin. Her knees gave way as she slid to the floor. Her palms covered her ears as if trying to shut out the sound of splintering wood and her eyes refused to stay open.

“Look at me.” He demanded, this time his voice was softer but there was no mistaking the dangerous edge to it.

Slowly her eyelids fluttered open to gaze at the red face of the Saiyan Prince who had crouched down to her level while she sat uncomfortably on the floor. Before she could comprehend her situation he smirked at her.

It was cold and deadly and she involuntarily shivered in fear. She felt his long fingers curl around her right ankle pulling her leg from underneath her.

‘Fuck.’ Was the only word she could come up with as he lifted her foot towards his face. She felt his fingers squeeze at her tiny ankle as his eyes recognised his father’s flesh and blood smeared incriminatingly on her right heel and shoe. ‘Holy fuck.’

The genius’s teeth ground together painfully as he continued to squeeze her ankle. If he applied any more pressure there he would crush her bones. His smirk turned into a malicious grin that bared his overly sharp canines to her sight. His eyes glazed over with a maniacal gleam for blood. Her blood. She panted in desperation as her heart began to pound wildly in her chest. Her ears ringing in tandem with the frantic beats. She tried to swallow to ease the fear back into the pits of her churning belly but her mouth was incredibly dry and her throat felt like it was clogged with sand. He came closer towards her, invading her personal space, his face only a hairsbreadth from her own. She felt his warm breath against her clammy skin and she was beginning to suffocate from it.  

The blue haired beauty willed her mind to calm down, to focus, to think, to get her out of the dangerous position she found herself in. She scrunched her eyes closed tightly so she could hide his image form her mind. As if not being able to see his deadly face gave her the chance to think better her eyes popped open with a quick plan already formed. The best she could do under these circumstances.

Mustering whatever meagre strength she could she bent her knee before kicking back with all of her might, trying to pierce her sharp heel into his eye.

But his reflexes were far too quick for her and his head moved to his right just in time to avoid the attack as he pushed her foot completely over his left shoulder.

“I don’t think so.” He hissed darkly as he twisted her ankle sharply breaking the bones beneath her flesh cruelly. She cried out in pain and he threw her leg away from him. Her foot lay awkwardly on the ground and she felt like it was not a part of her body.

“You fucking bastard.” She cursed violently and was rewarded with a stinging slap across her face. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks as she cried and cursed in pain.

“Shut up.” He ordered sharply but she ignored his command and continued to wail. Like a flash of lighting he was bending down before her again, his hands wrapped intimately around her neck, squeezing the life out of her. Bulma’s nails dug into Vegeta’s hands trying to prise his strong grip away from her throat before he crushed her windpipe. However her efforts were in vain as even though she drew blood from the scratches she made in his flesh she was still no match for him. He just continued to squeeze harder.

Not for the first time in the presence of a blood crazed Saiyan had Bulma asked herself if she had set too low a goal of only killing the Saiyan King for herself. It was a question that she had tried to find an answer to but had always fell short in her current situation.

She could have tried to produce the intricate poison in a lager quantity but she would have never been able to administer it to kill every single Saiyan on the Planet. They weren’t all that brainless and would have soon been able to figure out how to stop the poison from spreading even if they couldn’t find a cure for it immediately. Mass weapons of destruction couldn’t be produced right under their noses as she didn’t have the means to acquire the necessary equipment to build such instruments. No, she would have had to be patient and extract her revenge on the one she had hated the most. After all, it was only a matter of time before the Saiyan’s met their downfall. Soon they would perish into nothing but monkey space dust …

“That was nothing woman. I am going to break every single bone in your body, burn every inch of your skin and cut of pieces of your flesh every day to eat before shoving you into a tank and healing you. Then I will start the process all over again. Every, single day of your miserable life until I tire of you. So when I give you an order you better fucking obey.” He threatened her ominously and she felt dizzy from his revelation and the astounding pain that was attacking her at full force now that her adrenaline was disappearing.

“Maybe if you’re a good little whore I’ll tire of you quickly.” Vegeta smirked wickedly at her and seeing the truth of his words reflect in his eyes she felt anger seep through her being as if drawing from his violent actions and dangerous, dark threats.

“Screw you.” Bulma managed to sputter out before spitting in his face. She was only aware of the tightening of his hold on her neck and the growl that escaped from his firm lips as his face scrunched up in displeasure before her world went black.

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The Prince loosened his grip on the weak female before him as he stood up from his crouching position. He wiped away at her spit from his face as it scrunched up in disgust. Looking away from his gloved hands he turned towards the woman lying unconscious on the floor. She was still alive and she had just passed out from shock.

“Weakling.” He muttered before frowning again. For someone as weak as her, whose bones he could crush with the flick off his wrist she seemed determined to disrespect and disobey him. ‘Why was that?’ She had proved incapable of defending herself from him as her futile attempt to kick him had shown him her weaknesses. So how did she manage to kill his father? The King of all Saiyans, the strongest man he had ever known? What secret powers did she have?

He turned reluctantly to look at the gruesome corpse of his father. He frowned in displeasure. If the old fool had been stupid enough to be tricked by a woman then he deserved his fate. He frowned irritably trying to force the cold reasoning as truth in his mind. Although his father’s death would be avenged. He needed answers and he needed them immediately.

If the woman was responsible for his father’s death then there would be hell to pay. Not just for her. But if she wasn’t then he would have to figure out how best to play this. He couldn’t tell his people the entire truth anyway. They were under enough strain as it was with Frieza on their tails.

If word got out about the King’s untimely and disgraceful death then it would cause massive deflections amongst the people under their reign. That would be the ideal opportunity for Frieza to strike.

No, he couldn’t have that.

“Zorn.” He called harshly into his scouter.

“Yes Prince Vegeta?” The King’s personal guard answered almost immediately.

“Your presence is requested in my father’s chambers immediately.” Vegeta demanded.

“I’ll be right there.” Zorn replied instantly.

Vegeta paced the crème carpets for a while before his eyes wandered back to look at the woman lying awkwardly against the door. He walked over towards her and pulled her away from the doorway, dragging her tiny body across the room by her injured leg, possibly inflicting more damage on the broken bones.

He looked down at her sleeping form. She seemed almost angelic with her blue hair sprawled around her and her beautiful features peaceful in sleep. However there was something about her, a dark aura that was in complete conflict to her outward appearance. This had the Saiyan Prince frowning at her as if she were a puzzle that he couldn’t quite solve. ‘Don’t worry little one, soon I will know all off your secrets and more. Then I will teach you what happens to those who are foolish enough to disrespect the Prince of all Saiyans.’

Just as he released her leg there was a knock on the door. Its sound, distorted by the large crater his fist had made in it moments ago.

“Enter.” He gave the command that should have come from his father’s lips.

Zorn entered the room readying to bow before his King and Prince when he was stopped dead in his tracks. He looked from the dead King to the lifeless woman to the standing Prince in utter bewilderment.

“Zorn, I want you to take my father to the med bay without being noticed by anyone else. Once there, get Bardock to figure out exactly what happened to him. But do all of this without alerting anyone else to what’s happening. Do I make myself clear?”

For once the Saiyan guard was completely shell shocked and could not comprehend a direct order from his superior.

“What the hell is happening here?” Zorn asked from complete shock. All his training completely vanishing at the scene he was currently caught up in. He still continued to look back and forth between the three people in the room.

“Pull yourself together soldier, I just gave you a direct order.” Vegeta warned.

Knowing not to argue with that tone of voice from his Prince, Zorn decided to comply with Vegeta’s wishes and ask questions later. Zorn nodded in acceptance and took in a shaky breath to regain his composure. But as he made his way to what looked like the King’s body he found his feet rooted to the spot.

“Is he …” He couldn’t seem to finish his sentence. It seemed completely dumb to even think the King was dead when he had just spoken to him mere hours ago. It also seemed incomprehensible and absolutely offensive to the King and Prince to ask such a question that commented on their strength – so he didn’t. He couldn’t. He wasn’t prepared for the answer he received though.

“Yes. The King is dead.” Vegeta’s voice was flat and void of any emotion at all.

Zorn’s head whipped around to stare disbelievingly at his Prince.

“No.” he denied ungraciously. “No, this can’t be.”

“Pull yourself together Zorn. You’re an elite warrior and this behaviour is disgraceful to your title. Now do as I say or I will de-tail you and do it my fucking self.” Vegeta’s voice raised a few octaves at the end of his sentence and Zorn immediately snapped out of his stunned reverie.

It seemed it was a day for Saiyan’s to be shocked more times than they had probably been in all their lives.

Zorn nodded before turning towards what was once his King.

Glad he could entrust Zorn with the task of taking care of his father’s corpse he picked up the woman by the scruff of her dress and dragged her out of his father’s chambers. Glad his father didn’t have any guards in his own hallways, viewing it as a shame to need protection Vegeta stopped to hoist the girl over his shoulder. She dangled limply against him and he easily carried her dead weight to his own personal chambers. The smell of his father and her own unique scent floating annoyingly around him. Glad he also emulated his father he found it relatively peaceful in his own abandoned hallways at this hour. As he opened his doors he dropped the woman uncaringly with a heavy thud onto his own crème carpets in the middle of the room.

“Nappa.” He barked sharply into his scouter.

“Yeah Vegeta?” His Saiyan guard answered, his voice muffled, obviously from his mouth being stuffed with food.

Vegeta growled at his incompetence and the omission of being addressed by his title but let it slide. He had more pressing issues to deal with than Nappa’s familiarity at times.

“I want you in my chambers immediately. Do you understand? You have approximately sixty seconds to get here. I’m counting.” Vegeta warned as he ended communication with Nappa without waiting for the big man’s reply.

Nappa knew it had to be very serious an issue to be summoned to the Prince’s chambers at this hour and to have the Prince count. Vegeta only used the sixty seconds threat when his patience was not to be tested. Shaking away his thoughts he jumped from his seat and headed towards the King’s chambers as fast as he could.

Vegeta paced the carpets in his own chambers as if it helped him keep up with the rapidly fast movement of his excessive thoughts. He was glad Nappa had arrived when he had or the Prince was sure he was about to explode from rage.

As Nappa entered the Prince’s room with permission Vegeta turned to look at him sternly. “You’re ten seconds late.” He growled.

“Err, I’m sorry Prince Vegeta.” Nappa apologised as he scratched the back of his bald head.

Vegeta growled but pushed his frustration aside. He knew Nappa all his life and he knew he could trust the buffoon to follow his orders perfectly. “I want you to place this woman in my personal regen tank. Keep her sedated until she has healed. Then I want you to throw her into a cell.”

Nappa didn’t dare question his Prince’s commands when he saw the intense look on Vegeta’s face. He couldn’t comprehend the bizarre request or who the strange girl was but he would have to wait until Vegeta calmed down to ask his Prince anything at all. That was if he valued his life. And he did. So he wisely kept quiet and nodded in understanding. It wasn’t like the Prince never made strange demands before, normally his truthfully over powerful mind always came up with the best strategic plans. Even if they were almost always inconceivable to everyone else, they always seemed to work. But no one before had used the Prince’s regeneration tank, no one.

“Good.” The Saiyan Prince nodded as he made to leave his room. “Oh and Nappa …” He stood still at the door way, his back still facing his comrade, but his head slightly turned so his sharp profile could be seen. It always had a dangerous effect on people he was trying to intimidate and his personal guard was no different. “Make sure you leave her as is. Throw her in the tank the way she is after setting her broken ankle. When she’s healed, throw her as is into her cell. Don’t touch her at all after that and don’t bother searching her.”

That command was stranger than the first but the Saiyan brute called Nappa nodded again, wisely keeping his mouth shut. Whatever Prince Vegeta was up to he would find out sooner or later. He had been Vegeta’s personal guard since the Prince had been born. He was one of the very few beings alive who knew exactly how to react in the Prince’s presence.

Vegeta grunted before he left the room. “If it isn’t strength you possess, woman, let’s see exactly what it is that you can do then.”

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Authors Note: Is Frieza really scared of the Saiyans? Or is that just Vegeta’s arrogant ego? Whatever is going on … there’s more to everything and everyone than meets the eye!!!

This chapter was more or less a set up to give everyone more insight so the plot could develop. But I can promise if you’re enjoying it this far, it’s bound to get more exciting as it goes along.

I’m really excited about this fic as its dark and I’m truly enjoying the writing.

So please don’t continue if you’re a sensitive reader. I don’t want to offend anyone but I do want to write this without holding back …

Nova.81