Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Sympathy For The Devil ❯ Blurred Lines ( Chapter 12 )

Warnings: violence

Blurred Lines:

Kerisandra, a young fifteen-year-old girl with auburn hair and green eyes, her skin a midnight blue, had been taught all her life to love and respect their god, their ruler, Furiza-sama. The reason the sun rose was because Furiza wanted it so. The reason it rained was because Furiza was sad. With time, the absurdity of these teachings were visible. Never once had Kerisandra gazed at the white-skinned Icejin, and slowly, she had begun to believe that Furiza did not exist.

Dra'tisha was a peaceful planet, full of peaceful people, one of them being Kerisandra. They were not a warrior-like race. Loyally, with science and medicine, they served the Icejin. They could not control ki as other warrior races did. Words had not even existed on their planet until Furiza's arrival. They communicated telepathically, which had been the sole reason the white-demon had not immediately destroyed their planet. Furiza possessed an almost sick curiosity with the mind, and he had ordered the scientific race to develop something that would give him their abilities - a chip, a drug, anything that would work.

That had been eons ago.

It had seemed that Furiza had forgotten about his orders, which was likely. Old tales of the Icejin's first arrive portrayed him as a kind, but somewhat eccentric lunatic. A way had never been discovered for Furiza to harness the powers of the Dar'tishajin, and the people had given up. They were protected by Furiza's claim on the planet, so life had returned to the peaceful normality that had existed before the Icejin had come to their planet.

When Kerisandra paused in the garden of her village to wipe the sweat from her forehead, the peacefulness seemed to have exploded right in her face. The ship landed just a few feet away from her, dust settling around. As the villagers gathered, the door slid open, and out of it jumped the white-skinned demon who's legend was known by all.

Kerisandra stared in horror as the Icejin strode forward through the warriors who parted like the sea for him. In the doorway of the ship, a jade-skinned alien leaned against the frame, watching with somber eyes. The air was thick as the peaceful race watched their lives be destroyed. They waited to die for not completing their task. The blast, however, never came.

Furiza stopped in front of one of the village elders, offering the dark-skinned man a kind smile. "I am looking for something called the Dragon Balls. Give these to me."

Kerisandra gasped for breath as she watched the elder beg for Furiza's mercy. No one in the village had ever heard of these things called the Dragon Balls… no one except Kerisandra and a young Namek who lived out in the fields. She had stumbled upon him one day by accident, and they had forged a friendship. Furiza grew angry with the elder's words… and death followed. One by one, each of the villagers were murdered when they were unable to answer Furiza's demand, and when there was only a handful left, and the Icejin's finger was pointing at Kerisandra's mother, she screamed, jumping between the two, her eyes begging for mercy. "I know where the Dragon Balls are. Please… just don't kill Mommy."

Furiza smiled and turned towards the spaceship. "Come, Zarbon."

~*~

Hours later, pacing through the hallways, Zarbon forced himself not to go search for Jeice. It didn't mater what the fire-skinned warrior viewed him as anymore. Furiza was alive, and no one loved anyone other than Furiza. The changeling felt sick to his stomach. He couldn't breathe unless he was permitted to by his lord and master. Why was this affecting him so? Since childhood, he had loyally served the Icejin lord… and now he couldn't stand the sight of the damn beast.

"Zarbon…" came a quiet purr, halting the green-skinned warrior in place.

"Zarbonnn…" the voice grew angry. Zarbon had not spun around and fallen to his knees. Furiza was beginning to suspect things. He turned, shoving back his cape, and bowed to Furiza. "My apologies, milord. I've been distracted, lately. Your death… it frightened me."

A sympathetic smile was offered to Zarbon. Sympathy… from the devil… it was almost absurd. Furiza glided forward and reached out, wrapping his arms around the changeling's neck, ear pressed to the cold chest. Zarbon gritted his teeth, hands resting on Furiza's shoulders. "I'm so sorry, sweet Zarbon. I'll never again frighten you so. I need you… I love you." A soft chuckle left Furiza's painted lips. "But now, I need you the most. Bardock is here, my love."

"Bardock has been dead for years."

Zarbon struck the wall.

White feet appeared in the changeling's blurry vision. Furiza didn't like hearing things that didn't fit his alternate vision of the universe. Blood tainted Zarbon's tongue as he struggled to climb to his feet, but before he'd even succeeded in rising to his knees, Furiza's foot descended on his spine, pressing him to the floor. "Bardock is here! Fetch him, Zarbon!"

Then, the Icejin lord was gone, and Zarbon rose shakily to his feet. A blur of red sparkled around the corner for a brief moment, before vanishing even faster than Furiza had. Zarbon leaned against the wall, wiping the blood from his mouth, a coy smile appearing on his lips. Did it really matter, anymore? Jeice had returned. The Dragon Balls had been gathered.

Maybe there would be happiness in death.

~*~

The pain would never stop… and Kakarrotto was wondering if he wanted it to. The planet he and Vejita approached was beautiful and so peaceful, and any moment now a war would outbreak, and he was not horrified by this idea. His skin itched and burned with the idea of destroying the damn Icejin, of making Furiza suffer and scream just as he had screamed. He shivered, feeling those cold claws scraping his body, scaring him, taking everything from him.

Vejita stood behind him, obsidian eyes careless, forgotten, lost in the blackness of space. Neither of them had moved for what seemed like hours. They were the only two on the small spacecraft. The computer flew for them, and would land for them. Kakarrotto could almost smell the Icejin's blood. It caused his heart to throb with excitement. One way or another, it would end in pain.

The lilac-stripped bird stood on Vejita's shoulder, chirping a quiet little tune. Vejita hadn't bothered to shut up the bird, and Kakarrotto had begun to enjoy the song. There was fear, though. In the back of his mind, amid all the shrieking sounds of nonsense and madness, he could feel Furiza's anticipation and rapture. The Dragon Balls had been gathered. He and Vejita would be too late. Furiza would achieve whatever he desired… immortality, most likely. They wouldn't be able to kill the Icejin, and Kakarrotto realized that he would be responsible for the destruction of the universe. How many years would pass before Furiza found Chikyuu? Would Bulma and Kuririn suffer, be enslaved… experience what he had experienced? It terrified him… but there was nothing that could be done. Someone was pulling the strings, and he was merely a puppet of their amusement.

No one cared about him, what he wanted, what he needed. All the while he had been a tool, used by evil for evil. It was ironic, though. People had always said he was so pure, so good-hearted.

"We have arrived," Vejita stated. There was no tone to his voice, no apathy, no emotion. How could he do that, just throw everything out the window? Kakarrotto bowed his head, memorizing the cracks beneath his feet as the bird chirped in surprise with Vejita's sudden movements. "We have no time, Kakarrotto. We must get these orbs before Furiza!"

Turning sharply, Kakarrotto eyed Vejita, brows narrowed. "Get these…" his lips parted in a silent gasp of shock. "Vejita… no… we can't…"

"Yes, we can, and we will!" Vejita snarled, his pulled back in a sadistic smirk. "I have a few wishes I would like granted, Kakarrotto."

The bird's song stopped, and the darkest feeling of despair engulfed Kakarrotto. One way or another, the universe would suffer, and no matter what happened, it was his fault.

~*~

Outside his lord's bedroom, Jeice paused with a sigh, running thin fingers through his frizzy white hair as he listened to the echo of Furiza's voice. Both Zarbon and Furiza had left, and Jeice had been forgotten in the ship's shadowy corridors. In silence, Jeice leaned back against one of the walls, eyelids sliding closed as he tried to think, shoving aside the harsh touches of Zarbon's cold hands. He understood now why Vejita had kept Zarbon as a lover for so many years… but that was all it should have been! Jeice had never been haunted by a lover's faces… their voices… his moans and strokes.

Kakarrotto… he had to focus on Kakarrotto…

If Kakarrotto was here, on this miserable little planet, then he wouldn't be alone. Vejita, Nappa, Raditzu… at least one of them would be with the naïve Saiyajin, probably all three. Zarbon could easily stand up to Kakarrotto alone, but if he wasn't, there would be a battle. Could Zarbon stand up against two or more Saiyajin and survive?

Damn it! Why did he care what happened to that fucking changeling!

Jeice rose to his feet, spinning and punching the wall. Unfortunately, the wall was reinforced for such an impact, and he only got a wave of pain exploding inside his hand in payment for his actions. Cursing and clutching his hand to his chest - which was still horribly scared from the night with Zarbon - Jeice grumbled under his breath. He couldn't just stand back and let the loyal moron die.

Turning, he activated his scouter with his non-throbbing hand, searching for a Saiyajin's ki as he stalked out of the ship.

~*~

It smelled like Chikyuu. It felt like Chikyuu. Any moment now, he expected Bulma to come flying over his head, shouting down his name, and Son Gokou would look up, grinning happily, and wave at her, curious about her latest invention and how he could get himself in more trouble with it.

This world was not as advanced.

The tall gray grass brushed against his hips, just as it had in his vision. Vejita stood at his side, glaring at the small village that rested just before them. Kakarrotto held onto his arm, holding the rightful prince back. There was no need for them to enter the village. The Dragon Balls had already been gathered. Kakarrotto could hear Furiza's mocking laughter in his head, as well as faintly see the outline of the orbs somewhere near Furiza's ship.

"He wants me there," Kakarrotto whispered.

Vejita gritted his teeth, hands balling into fists. He ripped himself away from the Saiyajin, turning to him with a snarl. "Damn it, Kakarrotto! Where is Furiza?!"

Eyes lowering, Kakarrotto shook his head. "I… can't tell. It… it doesn't work like that."

"WHAT DOESN'T WORK!?" Vejita was on the verge of a meltdown. Everything in his world, his sanity, his control, it was falling apart. Saiyajin were supposed to do only three things: fight, kill, and never hope.

Vejita had broken every rule.

He'd stopped killing in favor for the death of his own race, his own people, who had nearly met their demise not once, but twice. He had stopped fighting, just for a brief moment. He had taken that freedom when Kakarrotto's lips had touched his, that tongue running along his bottom lip, trying to sneak in. And… just briefly… when he had learned about these mysterious Dragon Balls… he had felt a small flame of hope inside his soul. He could have everything - his kingdom, his life, his sanity - back, but now it was gone. Furiza had the orbs. The Icejin would wish for things that would make Vejita's life an unspeakable hell.

He turned away, on the verge of trembling as he considered the idea of sending a ki beam through his forehead. "All of this, Kakarrotto… it can all be blamed on you." He felt the younger warrior stiffen, but Vejita no longer cared. The arrival of Son Gokou had turned Vejita's life upside-down and inside-out, and Vejita didn't have the sanity or the strength to deal with this. Living was difficult enough.

"I know, Vejita. I'm sorry." Kakarrotto's words were unexpected, but an apology wasn't going to fix all this madness.

"Go south, Kakarrotto. I'll head north. If you find Furiza, just come back to the ship and wait for me. I'll return within the hour." Vejita darted heavenward, leaving the young warrior on the ground, staring after him.

Turning south, Kakarrotto mimicked Vejita's movements, darting upwards, feeling the cool wind on his heated cheeks, recalling freedom in blue skies when he'd first learned how to fly. He didn't have time to walk along memory lane, though. Darkness was slowly overwhelming the peaceful planet; night was approaching.

An approaching blue figure caused Kakarrotto to halt. His eyes widened as he halted in the air. Zarbon…

Spinning, Kakarrotto tried to dart away, but the changeling's eyes had already caught the young warrior, and a ki blast had already been sent. Kakarrotto was struck in the side by the golden bomb, and the night's blackness suddenly engulfed the Saiyajin a little too early.

Zarbon swooped down from the sky, wind whipping through his tussled hair, causing his azure cape to snap. His arms extended, catching the young male in his arms and pulling him protectively close. Somber black eyes lowered to the unconscious face, seeing innocence and purity there. "Poor thing," Zarbon muttered, confused at his own sympathy.

~*~

Darkness.

Everywhere he looked, there was nothing but endless blackness. Chains held him to a wall. The quiet hum of electronics was faint, but there, somewhere, in the blackness. It hurt to breathe. The collar around his throat was tight, pressing against his windpipe, causing Kakarrotto to struggle for air, making him force himself to live. It was a challenge, to keep breathing, when all he wanted to do was give up, let Hell claim him.

Skin was raw from his first few hours of struggle. How long had he been unconscious, trapped in this endless eternal blackness? There was no sign of windows or doors anywhere around him. It was colder than ice, and he was shivering. His teeth chattered, his jaw ached, and his mouth was so dry. Somewhere in his memories, he recalled Vejita's command, and the rushed blur of Zarbon just seconds before slumber had followed.

Vejita…

Somewhere in this world, Vejita flew, and he was alone on the enemy's territory. For him, Kakarrotto continued to struggle against the chains that held him still, continued to breath though he didn't want to.

The rattle of the chains echoed out as he snarled, aura burning and providing pale shades of light, just enough to see the white being sitting in the far corner of the room. It was then, Kakarrotto paused, eyes widening. "Furiza?" he gasped, before he knew what he was doing.

The whisper that cut through the silence caused the Icejin to jump up, dead obsidian eyes narrowed, staring directly at the Saiyajin. "I can smell you on him, Bardock. You're always on that damn king! It makes me sick, you hear me!?" Stalking forward, Furiza leaned atop Kakarrotto, hands wrapping around the Saiyajin's pale wrists, clawing into the skin. Blood dripped between their bodies, cascading across their skin. A sadistic grin grew across Furiza's lips as he leaned forward, lapping a the crimson liquid that stained the Saiyajin's dark clothes. "You and I, Bardock," Furiza whispered breathlessly, resting his head against Kakarrotto's chest. "For eternity, it will only be you and I."

Head turned aside, Kakarrotto cursed under his breath. "Never, Furiza," he snarled. "I am Kakarrotto, not Bardock!" He watched as the Icejin jumped back and blinked, then was filled with rage, eyes burning in anger as his fantasy was shattered by the cruelness of reality. A silver blast formed between claws, and it was thrown at Kakarrotto with more rage than any could imagine. Screaming in pain, Kakarrotto once again was forced to wonder why he was alive, why he had not just stopped breathing.

The pain faded, for that moment. Furiza's narrowed eyes returned to his vision, and he panted. "You are not my Bardock…" snarled the Icejin.

"No shit," Kakarrotto growled in reply.

A fist was shoved through his abdomen. The pain returned, refreshed and livid. Kakarrotto's voice became raw, and soon, as he heard the moist sounds of a blood-covered fist being removed from inside his body, the dazed numbness overtook. "How dare you impersonate Bardock," Furiza snarled, voice shaky. Tears ran across Kakarrotto's chest. He gazed up to the black ceiling, and for once, as he silently prayed for Vejita, he didn't see the line that separated Heaven and Hell.

~*~

TBC