Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Warui No Ou ❯ Furiza? ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Warui no Ou - (King of Evil)

Timeline: Sequel to Crowned Evil, A/U, After Cell Saga
Rated: R
Summary: Gohan rules the world!
Warnings: rape, incest, torture, character deaths
Pairings: Goten/C-Trunks, C-Trunks/Bura, Goten/Bura, Piccolo/Gohan


In silence, Mirai Trunks paced across the width of the cave, reaching the wall of stone and then turning and continuing until he reached the opposite. His footprints were making a small path, but he barely noticed. At the back of the cave his father sat in a meditative state, hands resting on his knees, brows twitching in annoyance at his son's constant panicked muttering. This had been going on for hours, with both parties trying to ignore each other unsuccessfully. Vejita had endured enough.

"Will you sit down!?" he roared, eyes snapping open to glare at the longhaired teenager. Trunks froze and spun in his father's direction, large blue frightened eyes staring at him. Rage soon overwhelmed those large human eyes. Trunks' hands curled into fists at his sides. "How can you just sit there and do nothing?"

"Easy! I sit my ass on the floor and don't move!" he retorted, on the verge of screaming. Trunks growled out and spun back, continuing his pacing. "Mother is insane. Chichi is dead. All the others seem to be in hiding. The world's population is half of what it had once been! Piccolo is encouraging Gohan. Trunks and Goten are his prisoners, probably his sex slaves for all we know, and you don't even give a fuck!"

Before Trunks had even realized it, Vejita had thrown him against the wall. Their faces were so close they could feel each other's breath, taste it on their lips. "I do care," Vejita snarled, each word carefully curved on his tongue as if it was a curse to summon the demons from hell. "I know exactly what I've done. I know exactly what I've unleashed. I'm extremely proud of it, but I'm just as fucking frightened as you are. What you have to understand is I've been through all of this before. We have only one option at this moment, and that is to wait! We cannot fight Gohan, with words or with fists. Not now, and not for a long time. Until I have achieved the power that Gohan did, we're powerless, sheep, and all we can do is wait! Now I suggest you sit your ugly ass on that floor and start your training!" Vejita hurled Trunks across the cave. Trunks hit the wall and slid to the ground with a sickening thud, his head pounding with anguish. In silence, Vejita moved back to the very place he'd been sitting since before dawn, folded his legs beneath him, rested his hands on his bent knees, and closed his eyes.

Trunks winced, rubbing the back of his head where the wall had connected with it. Deafening silence seemed to span out for hours, though it was only a few seconds before he gathered the nerve to speak. "Been through his before?" he questioned in a whisper that seemed to boom across the heavens.

Vejita growled softly, but cut himself off almost as quickly. Trunks stared at his father for a long moment. "It's Frieza, isn't it? You're comparing Gohan to Frieza."

"Yes," he muttered, so quietly that it almost wasn't heard. That simple statement cause more fear in Trunks than he had ever experienced before. Not even Juuhachigou and Juunanago had caused him to tremble so.

~*~

Months Later:

In silence she moved across the barren field. Nothing but ashes lay in her path. Prints were left where her feet fell as she moved across. She could hear the car motor running behind her, and the faint tones of dimmed music playing within the doors. It had little effect on Bulma Briefs though. Her eyes gazed at the house where her best friend had once lived. Tears filled the blue orbs, falling down her flushed cheeks. Her arms clung to the child that she held in her arms, Saiyajin no Oujo, Bura Briefs.

The body, wherever it was, was now just ashes within the chaos of wood and blackness. Son Chichi was somewhere, floating about heaven hopefully, killed by her own beloved son, the very boy who had saved the life of everyone on the planet. When had he begun to break? Which event had caused the dramatic change? Who was to blame? Most of all what Bulma wanted to know was whom she could point the finger at. Satan-san for taking the credit, the people of Chikyuu for being so pathetically helpless, Vejita for not being strong enough, Gokou for not being strong enough, or refusing to come back, or for placing the fate of the world in the hands of a child - who was to blame?

Slowly, one by one, Gohan was killing off everyone that he had ever known and held dear. Already Yamcha, Muten Roshi, and Kuririn were no longer walking the plane of the living. Juuhachigou had gone mad when she'd discovered her husband's body lying within the wreckage of the Kame House. She'd go in search for Gohan, and had nearly died as a result. Gohan hadn't been able to kill her, or had decided not to, or had believed he had. Whatever the reason, she was still alive, and frightened beyond words. She rested somewhere across the planet with her daughter, clinging to life for the young blonde haired child. Juuhachigou, last time Bulma had saw her, was barely unable to walk. Bulma had repaired the cyborg's shattered left leg, and nearly been forced to give her another face because of the beating Gohan had delivered on the poor women.

Yamcha, before he had been murdered, had suggested that Bulma gathered the Dragon Balls. She had begun to do so, but had soon learned that Gohan was not one to be toyed with. She'd nearly lost her daughter's life during her attempt to find them. Gohan had taken the four-star Dragon Ball in exchange for Bura's life.

Who was left? Bulma briefly wondered as she moved across the wreckage, completely ignoring the car that hummed behind her, and the person silently pacing back and forth, uncomfortable with being so close to a place where Gohan could at any moment return. Of course, there was Gohan and his evil cohorts, which was what they were at the current time - Goten, chibi Trunks, and Piccolo. Then there were the cowards, those who refused to face what the world held - Mirai Trunks, Juuhachigou with chibi Marron - and in Vejita's case what he had done.

Then there were those who were struggling, fighting, refusing to give in and give up on Gohan - Bulma with chibi Bura, Tien, and Videl, who was always fighting, never backing down from the challenge. It was amazing that she was still alive. Constantly, more times than anyone could count, she had encountered the Warui no Ou and managed, by some miracle, or perhaps curse, she always survived. Rarely did she walk away, but she did survive. It was somewhat ironic, in some strange and twisted way. If Satan-san was responsible for what had happened with Gohan, than his daughter was cleaning up after him.

If only Gohan hadn't taken the dragon ball. If only Gokou would have returned. There were to many of those if onlys. If only Gohan had talked about what was bothering him. If only Vejita hadn't wanted to bring out his Saiyajin side. If only…

"Bulma, please hurry," came the worried voice from behind her. Bulma stopped walking, hugging the slumbering child in her arms. Bura was growing at Saiyajin speed. She was only a few months old, and yet already she seemed like a small toddler. In only a few weeks she would be walking, and in less than a month she would be speaking.

If only Gokou had never come to Chikyuu.

It was a thought Bulma would have never thought she would think, but it was there, with all the other jumbled panicked whispers her mind was screaming. If Gokou had never come here, Gohan would have never been born, none of the Saiyajin would have come to the planet, threatening to destroy it, and Cell would have never been created…

Bulma sighed softly, looking down to the rubble that surrounded her feet. She was standing in Gohan's bedroom… or where it had once been. The scorched remains of a textbook rested beside her foot. There was another ironic factor in the world, resting in these charred remains. Chichi had raised a brilliant killer…

As if sensing her mother's distress, Bura awoke and cried softly, clinging to the cloth. She was hungry. Saiyajin were always hungry, or fighting, or suffering, or killing…

Gohan had killed more than anyone really realized. All his life he'd been pushed to kill, hadn't he? All the training with Piccolo, fighting the Saiyajin, he'd been shoved in the direction of murder, and he'd watched great examples of it, hadn't he? He'd watched as Vejita had killed Nappa with as much ease as a starving wolf killing a rabbit. He'd watched Cell run around the planet, squeezing the life from everything. He'd watched Frieza kill Kuririn with a smile on the full pink lips, hardly blinking as the human imploded. Death, violence, pain had constantly surrounded Gohan, and when peace had finally overwhelmed the world… his father decided that peace was boring! His father was a Saiyajin! Peace was worthless, for the weak, and Gokou had run off into the heavens for more violence and suffering. What lesson had Gohan been learning all those years through his childhood? It wasn't surprising that when Vejita had offered, Gohan had accepted. He hadn't been offered a path to bring out the powers inside him, or control them, or harness them. What Gohan had been offered was the chance to embrace the darkness that had been plaguing him throughout his life, and learn just what it was, and how to submit his self to it.

Gohan was a quick learner.

Bulma turned around, rocking the child in her arms in a futile attempt to sooth the cries. Would Bura be surrounded with the same? Was it the fate for all demi-Saiyajin? What lessons were Goten and chibi Trunks learning as they followed the orders? Were they drinking the blood of their victims and feasting on their flesh?

She looked over towards the car, staring at the sad smiling face that was offered. Did Chikyuu have any chance to become the once peaceful planet that it had once been?

"Come on, Bulma. You shouldn't be here. Let me have Bura, huh?"

Bulma moved back across the field, feet falling in the same prints that she had just created. She had come to the destroyed Son household in an attempt to say goodbye to Chichi, but she couldn't. She just couldn't. If she said goodbye, she would be accepting everything, the way the world was, the chaos that awaited her daughter, the death and destruction. She had never given up on anything, and although she wanted to more than anything she could possibly imagine, Bulma couldn't give up hope. Her son, both the future and present, was still alive, and her husband, out training somewhere in some uncharted corner of the planet, still struggled for power. They weren't going to allow this world to continue. They had fought every challenge, and they would fight this one.

However, that wasn't what stopped Bulma. Saying goodbye to Chichi would mean she had given up on Gohan. She couldn't do that to her best friend. Gohan could be returned, and with him so would Goten and chibi Trunks.

Bulma stepped forward and placed the sobbing infant in the arms that awaited the child. "Thank you, Videl."

~*~