Nightmares of You
By: Kichi
Disclaimer: Akira Toriyama made DBZ. not me.
God help me. I’ve lost.
I can’t believe it.
I can’t move and I can barely breathe. It feels like my ribs
(which I am sure most of them are broken) are tearing through my lungs.
The sun is high above, it’s brightness hurts my eye (the one that isn’t
burnt to a cinder, that is) and I feel a slight weight against my hip.
I move my head slowly and see Kakarotto’s brat, naked and unconscious,
minus a tail. Well, it was too little too late on my part, the brat
fell on me while in Oozaru form and now I lay like a mangled doll, flung
into the dirt.
What hurts most of all is my pride. The Prince of All Saiyans
beaten by a third-class loser and his hybrid son. The thought of
returning to Frieza’s base in such a state causes my stomach to revolt,
but I keep it in. Just like everything else.
As if things there weren’t bad enough before. I can picture
Frieza’s hideous face now. Not only did I go to Chikyuu without his
“permission”, but I was beaten too! By a third-class brain damaged
son-of-a-squad commander!
So many broken bones. I pull my remote out of my shattered armor,
dimly surprised it hasn’t been destroyed as well. I can’t believe
it. Me, Vegeta, Prince of Saiyans has to retreat. I try to
laugh at the twisted irony. I, who gave so many cause to run in terror,
now it’s my turn to flee. For a moment the bitterness is too much
to bear and I feel hot tears sting my eyes.
No!
Not this! Not one more shot in the balls, so to speak.
I gather the last shreds of my honor and roll onto my side.
My legs won’t work, so I pull myself along with my arms. At least
they still function! I hear a faint hum in the air grow to a deafening
roar as my pod descends. I almost sigh in relief but check myself
in time. I can’t help but feel disgusted at my own weakness.
But I am closer to my destination, and as soon as I heal I WILL come
back and destroy this ball of mud which has caused me more pain and grief
then anyplace has a right to.
A shadow falls over me suddenly and I am surprised that I am too disoriented
to have heard their approach.
“This is for all the people you killed!” the bald midget cried.
In his raised hand was a gleaming, silver sword. Fear gripped me with,
oddly, a sense of injustice.
“No!” I cried, the fear in my voice enraging me. “I can’t move!”
he plunged the blade towards my back and I tensed in anticipation of a
blow that I knew I wouldn’t survive. The phrase “Not fair” rang through
my head, and the irony of that struck me too. Since when had my life
been anything but unfair? And it was then that I realized I was still
alive. Cue ball stood before me with a look of shock on his face.
“G-Goku?!” he blurted in confusion. I paid him no more attention
as I pulled myself into my pod. “You saved the earth… I guess you
got the right.. to have it your way. But listen Goku, next
time you better kick his butt!”
The nerve of that little shit. I’ll make him pay.
“Next time, little boys…” faint laugh. “There won’t be.. Any
miracles.. H-have fun… While you can.” I rasp. Even talking required
effort. The look of rage and disgust on the bald guy’s face is enough
to make me smile.. a little. But as soon as the pod door closes and
I feel the moment of weightlessness at lift-off, I close my eyes and dream.
I’m tired. I’m so damn tired of struggling to be the best and
always falling short. I dream of Kakarotto and revenge. Everything
is tinted red as if blood blurs my vision. Through a red, distorted
haze Chikyuu perishes before me. Fragments of the battle filter through
and the memory of pain awakes me now and again. But it is only for
a moment. At times I wish to open my eyes but my eyelids feel like
they weigh a thousand pounds each. It’s like I’m drowning in a black
sea. I feel awake and aware inside a dead body. I try to make
any sound to make sure I am really alive and that it is all a dream and
a dry groan rolls off my tongue.
So tired, my eyes close again.
Burning rage to sooth the burning pain. But it doesn’t really.
It just makes the pain that much worse, that much more intense.
But I lost! I was beaten! How can I forget such a thing?
Even after I heal and beat his punk-ass, will I ever forget that once
he defeated me?
I don’t think so.
Sleep, and this time I hope I dream of nothing, of empty blackness.
If I close my eyes again and see the Saiyan face with Human expressions,
I shall surely go mad.
Chapter 2
Fan Fiction
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