Title: Erratum in the Spirit 1/? - You better pray your soul too keep!

Author: Falafal

Pairing: N/A at this time

Rating: PG-13

Warning: Supernatural - Dark themes, alcohol references

Archive: http://geocities.com/falafal84/fanfic.html, fanfiction.net/~falafal

Notes: DBGT has not occurred, due to the fact I know nothing about it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z and unfortunately neither do I own any of the works from which the quotes are taken.


"Speech" *thoughts* *^*^* Remembrance *^*^*

* * * * * * * * * *

Visions of Inspiration

"I'm startin' to trip
I'm losing my grip
And I'm in this thing alone" Losing Grip - Avril Lavigne

"The shadows that you see (in the places that you sleep)
Are memories of me (you better pray your soul too keep)
The truth behind your eyes (you know the things you never see)
Your darkest little lies (I'm coming for you)" Won't back down - Fuel

* * * * * * * * * *

Why?

One question that can never be answered. How I wish it could be. Then perhaps I could understand. Understand the reason for his deceit, his treachery. It's all I can do to hold the tears. Our friendship was lifelong, I would have died to save him. I didn't realise he would facilitate my demise.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Back off Goten!"

Slipping further into the booth, the silver haired teen duplicated his father's famous glare.

"You can't stay in there all night"

In reply, Trunks averted his eyes and swallowed the remainder of his drink, a strange red liquid that seemed to leap from the glass. Heavy music resounded with deafening vibration and so to be heard the two saiyans kept their voices raised.

"You're right..."

His grip on the glass tightened, as he stood, moving towards his friend. Their eyes sober despite the alcohol swarming their system. The older teen couldn't decide whether the increased resistance, by way of saiyajin blood, was favorable or not. He knew it certainly moved against his present aim.

"...My glass is empty"

Trunks moved past the discouraged 18-year-old, his face losing its glare.

"Oh, come on!"

Defeated, Goten slumped into the U-bend seating and gazed upon red and white playing cards, carefully unorganised. He had been trying to get his friend upon the dance floor all night, a particular blonde beauty had her eyes on him. Yet, Trunks would not approach her, in fact he seemed far from the subject.

*^*^* All afternoon Trunks had his 'head in the clouds', a smile never appearing upon his face. Goten looked his friend in the eye, that characteristic grin slipping when he saw the look on his face. Something was bothering him,

"I know something's wrong"

"Huh?"

"Trunks..."

Sighing, Trunks knew he couldn't hide a thing from Goten and he wouldn't try, they had been the closest of friends all their life, they had fused.

"It's just father on my case again"

"He's always on your case, why's today different?"

"Plus I saw, last night...never mind, it's stupid" spinning the silver haired teen eagerly changed the subject "So you think you can beat me this time?"

Realising the limit of his interrogation, Goten grinned and turned into the Capsule Corps residence,

"You're lucky your mum fixed the Gravity room, 'cause it's the only thing that'll protect you!" *^*^*

His mind slipped back into the present and in reflex he searched the room, identifying each Ki. Nothing out of the ordinary. Twisting an unknown card between his fingers, Goten watched the seductive movements of those on the dance floor. He relaxed into the curves of the corner booth, which kept him hidden from casual eyes. Amply covered in shadows, a dull lamp secured to the wall gave out sufficient light. The 'Rouge Shift' had become their regular retreat. Hidden in the depths of West City, the relatively unknown club was a haven for the recoil of those burdened. At first it was Trunk's "Brief" title that established the goodwill with the bartender yet Goten's carefree nature saw their acceptance. It also helped that their superior strength was genetically behind them.

"Fancy a Game?"

A sudden voice brought Goten's attention from the interest of rectangles, to find an unfamiliar individual watching him curiously. Her ruby locks curling at the touch of her shoulders, eyes strangely pale. He lightened, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly,

"I don't play just anyone"

Sliding into the seat opposite, she tugged casually on her black halter neck. Its leather glowing in the sickly light.

"I'm not just anyone"

Removing his denim jacket, Goten took up the cards, letting them slip and twist between each other. His mind inquisitive, drawn in by this girl's extending aura. There was something alluring, something mystical.

* * * * * * * * * *

Head bowed, the Brief's heir became submerged in thought. He leant his elbows against the bar's edge, tall glass twisting between his fingers. The bodies, which brushed against him, closely crowding the bar had become invisible. Vegeta's son, Saiyan royalty, newly Capsule Corp employee, Trunks happily slipped into the crowd. Became no one, if only for a moment. No lights flashing, no interviews, no questions.

*^*^* "Trunks," with glass's perched on the end of her nose, the reporter studied him "How does it feel to be a part of the family business?"...

..."Now you've graduated, what are your plans for the future?" *^*^*

Eyes seemed to be constantly watching. If it wasn't the media, curious of the wealthy family's movements, it was his parents. Why wasn't he studying? Why wasn't he training? It was just that morning he had a dangerous argument with his father. He had been defeated by Goten, quite a rare event. His mind was distracted by those visions, by the sense of calling. It had been calling him. Vegeta immediately struck him, he could still feel the sting upon his face.

Sighing he swallowed a large mouthful of the strong liquid, in an attempt to rid himself of thoughts, his troubles.

"Charlie, another round!"

A young man, a black waist apron covering his dark pants whilst leaving his white shirt unprotected, appeared a minute later. His short black hair damp with sweat, evidence of his hours behind the bar. Gently he placed a new glass before the saiyan and used one arm to lean against the counter. Charlie watched as Trunks took a sip of the alcohol, having no affect to his condition. He looked on, fascinated,

"You should tell me your secret"

Trunks looked up, nerves pulled to the surface.

"Secret?"

The barman simply nodded to the glass in the teen's hand before walking away. He watched in silence as Charlie faded, time slowed, his vision hazed. His reaction was to look to the tall glass in his hand, what was he drinking? He shook his head, perhaps he finally found a substance which could overcome his hardened system.

"I'm losing it"

'You're not losing it'

Light and raspy, the male voice echoed through his mind, taking him by surprise,

'I am intrigued by your potency. It is but the strength of your mind, which holds you from his call'

Trunks rubbed his eyes and turned about. Those behind him had become hazy, their forms echoing with each movement. He let his eyes roam confused, looking for the person who spoke to him.

"What is this?"

'Have you not felt it? My master is calling you. Your will is great, but I believe it is slipping.'

Out of the crowd a solid form emerged, almost floating, towards him. A lengthy, black coat covered a male form, causing the truth behind his physique impossible to discern. He echoed Trunk's own age, dark hair slicked back into a tight braid.

'In truth I cannot see what he finds in you. A little strength is nothing to cheer about!'

"I need to get the name of this drink from Charlie"

Trunks attempted to ignore the stranger and rose from his seat. He staggered slightly before easily making his way back to Goten.

A sudden hand clasped his shoulder, a grating voice spoke into his ear,

'You cannot escape him'

Jerking himself free, the teen weaved his way through the tables and bodies. He could indeed feel a supernatural being pulling him, luring him. Its presence stronger then ever touched his mind, his heart. Yet its entirety held evil, radiated pain and corruption. He could not yield, would not.

"You...pale...happened?"

Trunk's brow furrowed as his tried to make out his friend's slurred speech. He could see the genuine concern and questions in Goten's eyes, yet his spinning head caused his senses to skew.

"I...uh...just need some rest. I'll see you later"

In reply, Goten raised his eyebrows, nodding.

The saiyan backed away, it was only at that moment he noticed the girl. Her eyes were pale and she chose that moment to smile, revealing her teeth. Trunks gasped, as pearl white fangs stroked her lower lip, moments from piercing her ivory skin. This only caused him to quicken his pace. He spun and pushed his way carelessly through the gathered crowd. The groans, which came from the fallen in his wake, were dead to his ears. He thought only of escape, of the freedom from the dark spirit, which haunted him.

By the time he reached the retreat of cool night air, the significance of the pain, which throbbed in his palm, became evident. He leant back against the nearest wall, it's cool stone comforting, steady. He looked down upon his palm, only to find the remnants of the alcohol glass. Small shards piercing his skin. Unknowingly, he had shattered it in his grasp, adrenaline and confusion masking the pain.
Groaning himself, he wiped the pieces from his reddened hand. As he stared into the cloudless night sky he flexed the muscles of his injured limb, trying best to clear his head.

* * * * * * * * * *

"I've gotta go" Goten said as he made to follow his friend,

"No, don't go" the red head took hold of his arm, her eyes locking onto his, "we haven't finished our game"

Her eyes deceptive, holding the saiyan in his place.

"My friend seemed troubled, I'll be back"

But he couldn't move, those eyes.

"Maybe I'll stay until we finish" reluctantly Goten sat back down taking up his cards.

* * * * * * * * * *

Trunk's head thrummed, aching as it resisted that deep voice in his mind, pulling him. He stumbled, as his focus was lost, moving down the street. Sighing he dropped down against the street wall, head in his hands.

"The pain will leave if you just go to him"

"I was taught to give in to nothing" Trunks replied to the sudden foreign voice.

"Is that what you want?"

"It doesn't matter what I want!"

"Then you will live with this pain until your strength gives out"

Looking up he recognised the dark coated man standing over him,

"Who are you?" Trunks questioned

"Just a messenger" he held out his hand for Trunks "My master wishes to speak with you"

*What should I do? Father would never concede if told what to fulfill*

"But the pain"

Hesitantly the teen took hold of the ice-cold hand, allowing the stranger to lift him easily to his feet.

"Take me to him"