Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Tempting Death ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Tempting Death

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By The Eternity Dragon

Chapter Two

Bulma let her hand slide languorously across the floor; fumbling carelessly for the screwdriver. Pushing strands of cerulean hair out of her eyes she bent over, sliding her delicate body underneath the panel so she could adjust the wires.

With no one to disturb her she had seized the opportunity to fix the Gravity Machine; the cold morning air rushed in the open door, a black bird was singing somewhere in the tree outside.

She began to hum tunelessly to herself as she readjusted wires and replaced broken contraptions, anything to keep her mind away from the obvious conclusion that the person who had broken the machine in the first place, would very soon be back.

But she was pleased with the artful deceit that she had woven so carefully last night.

Her parents had not noticed her marred palm; neither did they know the extent of her self inflicted wounds, in the cold isolation of Bulma's room the solitude became unbearable, the rage utterly consuming her until her sanity only remained hanging by the barest thread of humanity.

Her mother treated her delicately, she had just broken up with Yamcha, for what reason she didn't know, she didn't suspect that her only daughter had driven him away, pushing him to the bridge of insanity.

Bulma remembered well enough, the pleading, the self denial, the madness, like a nightmare, but unlike a dream there was no waking.

The conclusion had been delicious and yet so empty, she had yearned for more, like a vampire feeding off pain and anguish, she had lain there broken and consumed by the raw emotions crying for him not to leave her, to save her from the darkness; but in vain.

There would be no redemption for her, no bitter sweet ending, he had left her to her darkness unable to cope any longer, and the love had been drained by the odium.

Yamcha was weak, he always had been and always would be; his adoration for her had maintained his affection to her person for a few weeks after her return to earth, but no longer.

He avoided her now, plagued by ghosts of the past, she was a disease, a deadly

sickness to him.

No one suspected, Yamcha would never tell anyone of his frailty of mind, only Chi-Chi, dear Chi-Chi, thought it odd.

She overwhelmed Bulma with questions about the hither to and wherefore, but to no avail, the truth was concealed so deeply in her soul now to reveal its extremities to the world would break her.

And she was always now on breaking point, threatening to shatter into a million pieces, only solid determination, and the malignant hate was keeping her together.

"Red wire," she muttered twisting the copper strands around the plastic casing and pulling them across the metallic underbelly of the machine.

"To green wire," mumbling incoherently to herself, groping for her screwdriver again, placing the bitter wire in her mouth as her hands were busy, she pushed herself father under the device so only her feet could be seen by a standing spectator.

"And yellow to blue." Bulma said eventually placing the two orange threads together; they sparked into life sending golden shards in all directions.

The contrivance beeped into life, the toneless voice of the computer crackled across the empty expanse of the cold room.

"Please select gravity setting." In the indifferent voice it had been programmed to respond with.

"Finished already?" came the icy expression, dancing across the room and slithering

up Bulma's neck and whispering in her ear.

Her body froze, her heart pumping in her ears, cold adrenaline moving swiftly through her veins; she lay for a moment stock still, her eyes staring up into the grey metal, she saw it and yet she didn't see anything.

Slowly, achingly slowly her eyes travelled to her feet, the small chink of a passage gave her view enough from the ground level of the room.

She watched as the feet drew nearer to her, moving slowly taking their sweet time, and as each second flew by the anger and hostility grew larger and large until it beat against her chest fighting to break out of her.

She slid from beneath the machine, her face remote and pitiless, but her eyes as stormy as a hurricane.

Vegeta smiled down at her, it was an icy smile, the smile of a snake before it bites you, cruelty glittering in his dark eyes.

"What where you doing down there?" he asked casually, his gaze raking over her in hard aggression, she was going to pay.

Bulma felt her nails dig into the hard metal ground beneath her, 'Keep you cool,' her mind screamed at her. 'Don't blow.'

"What you asked me to do." She hissed at him, starting to sit up, her long blue hair sliding sensually down her small back.

"I've fixed the machine."

He smirked down at her, it was a cold calculating stare he was giving her now, full of cold humour; "No," Vegeta snarled, "I asked you to fix it last night."

He raised his head and moved towards the Gravity Machine's control panel, he turned back, those onyx orbs scintillating something that chilled Bulma to her marrow.

"Let's see whether or not it works."

She started, her eyes sliding to his hands as it moved across the key board with the skill of an expert pianist.

"NO!" she shouted, "DON'T!"

But in vain, with a deep whirr the machine began to work, she slammed down into the freezing metal floor, her body feeling ten times heavier than it had ever felt before, blinking was an effort, she felt as though her brain was going to explode, she gulped down oxygen, in an effort to stop her lungs collapsing under the extreme pressure.

"When I ask you to do something," Vegeta said casually as though he was announcing the weather.

"You'll do it when I tell you to." He turned the gravity setting up, enjoying watching her limbs try to heave themselves up from the floor.

She turned her head with a great effort towards him, hate sparkling in her cerulean eyes; she mouthed something at him, but was unable to find the breath to say the words.

"Do you understand?" he asked coldly, staring her down, amusement dancing across his devilishly handsome features. He was enjoying this it was plain to see, she refused to answer, she wouldn't play the game.

Slowly she tried to stand up; her face white from the huge effort, her eyes dancing with determination and hostility, the hate sustaining her keeping her sane, preventing her from cracking.

She imagined him dead, no lying in agony, the sweet pleasure she would derive from his demise, it filled her with strength, and she pushed herself up.

Bulma was kneeling now to his astonishment, her body ridged with effort he was surprised by her willpower, impressed by her strength. He watched her with in creasing admiration, before malice forced him to turn the gravity settings up again.

She crashed to the floor, a deep moan escaping her mouth taking precious oxygen with it.

He laughed a terrifying sound; turning her blood to ice, she struggled to find breath, she was going to die, she knew it, the blood was pumping to her head in an alarming manner, perspiration drenched her body, and she opened her mouth to scream.

"Go ahead," he snarled, "no one will hear you."

He was right she realised with a jolt of understanding, she felt her mind ebb slowly away into the blackness, colours and images whirred dreamily in front of her vision,

shadows moved here and there groping for her edging slowly nearer.

Then gradually she began to breathe, her lungs found treasured oxygen again, the pounding in her head gradually lessened, her vision focused, pupils dilating trying to find him in the darkness.

He stooped over her, pushing both of her wrists behind her head in a deadly lock, there was no escape now from those eyes, and she forced herself to glare up into

them.

He was smirking, icy malevolence sliced through his voice, "Maybe next time you'll think twice before you threaten me woman. If you value your life."

Unaware of the boundaries he was breaking he glared down at her, his eyes moving slowly over her lips and eyes; he bent his head, so that his nose brushed sensually against hers.

He had pushed her onto the next level, she vowed to herself, if it was the last thing she'd do she would drive him mad.

Her soul would not rest until she drove him insane, and from that, she would reap her greatest pleasure, she would take his soul.

'No one will hear you.'

"Vegeta," she murmured, "I'll kill you."

Before her consciousness moved into oblivion and she was lost to the world.

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Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, I don't know, maybe you have a better opinion of it than I do!

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Love

The Eternity Dragon

&

Murray