Bulma16 Fan Fiction

BULMA16's Fan Fiction

It all started on Saturday, October 25, 1962. The place was a town fifteen and a half miles north east of Salem village... "Witch! Burn her!" "Why don't you hop on your broomstick and fly for us!" "Whore! Slut!" The cries of the towns' people rang in her ears as she headed to the gibbet. She turned and looked them all squarely in the eye, scaring them into silence, "You will rue the day you dared speak against me. Mark my words, I will bring a fierce reckoning upon you! One like this world has never seen, or will ever seen again." The sheriff threw her to the ground and pressed her face in the ground, "Watch how you talk, whore." He roughly picked her up and shoved her on the platform. The crowd, still in shock, watched in silence as the noose was placed around her neck. The sheriff smirked and motioned for the deputy to pull the lever, opening the trapped door beneath the feet of the accused. Instead of cheering, the crowd screamed as the sheriff and the deputy who pulled the lever fell in a heap. Silence, until one brave soul cautiously climbed the steps to the two afflicted men. What he saw was enough to later make him mad (crazy): the eyes, heart, and brain of the two appeared to have been torn out of the body, and written in blood on the platform planks were the words: I HAVE ONLY JUST BEGUN. AND I AM NOT ALONE. About a foot away hung the body of the judge who condemned the witch, but he was wearing the dress the witch had been wearing. The towns' people shivered as a woman's maniacal laughter echoed all around them. ************************
It continued on. Every single person who dared say a word against the witch was killed in brutal way. Finally, the witch completed her killing spree. She had no one left to kill. She had nowhere to go. She remained on Earth. Her only desire now: to find one like her. With enough potential for evil. Someone beautiful and powerful. One who could be used to suit her purpose, which is unknown to all, except for she.
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October 24th, about 1,000 years later; a Friday afternoon... *Before the birth of Bra, Trunks is 10, Bulma is 36, Vegeta is 39. "Trunks! Tell your father it's time for dinner. And do you remember the rule?" Trunks rolled his eyes, but nodded at his mother, "Yes. If dad is in a bad mood run." "Right. Now hurry up before it gets cold!" Bulma scolded, shooing her son out of the door. Trunks ran to the gravity room, pausing before pushing the intercom button. "Father. Mother says it's time for--" The door slammed open, silencing the rest of Trunks' sentence. A scowling Vegeta emerged. He walked past Trunks with out a word, or a glance. Used to his father's attitude, Trunks followed him eagerly, "Hey dad, do you think I could go to Goten's house for a while?" Vegeta stopped and turned to his son, with fire in his eyes, "NO! You will not go to the house of Kakkarot. Now keep silent." He said angrily. Trunks kept silent and followed Vegeta into the kitchen, where his mother was lighting candles. "Guess what today is Vegeta?" She asked, straightening her green dress. Vegeta sat down and scowled at her, "I don't have time to play any of your stupid guessing games, woman." Bulma's smile faltered slightly, but she seemed adamant in the belief that Vegeta knew. "Today is--" "Today's your anni- anniversary!" Trunks interjected. Bulma sat down across from her mate a little angrily, "That's strange. A 'no good, pathetic excuse for a warrior, and a worthless half breed' could remember a simple day of the year, and you couldn't Vegeta." Trunks seemed unaware of the tension steadily growing in the room, "It's not the first time either, mom. When I was five--" "Trunks, why don't you go over to Chichi's for dinner tonight." "But Dad said--" "Go!" His mother said loudly, with uncharacteristic sternness in her voice. Trunks slid out of his seat and left. Before closing the door he took in the scene: His mother watching him with a sort of recklessness in her eyes, and his father, arms crossed, his eyes on the boy, but not really seeing him. Trunks took a deep breath, and crossed his fingers as he closed the door and started flying toward Goten's house. I'll be back in a couple of hours. They'll have made up by then, he thought optimistically. Bulma turned her angry turquoise eyes on her mate, "Vegeta. I'm really sick of being the only one here who makes an effort at anything around here. All you do is train while I cook, clean, work, take care of Trunks, pay the bills, shop, do the laundry, fix the things you break, and everything else. Either you make an effort to help, or we need to go our separate ways." She said, ending in a flat tone. Vegeta met her gaze, his eyes as angry as hers, "If I didn't train so that I could properly protect this sad excuse for a planet, you would be dead, and unable to cook, and take care of the brat." "Oh please Vegeta! As if! We all know you are no match for either Goku or Gohan. Why don't you just give up?" She said without thinking, standing before him. Vegeta stood up angrily, his ki raising drastically as he struggled to keep from killing the woman for making such a hurtful comment with out even thinking about it, "Who knew a couple of lays with a bitch would bring on such obligations." He sneered, trying to inflict the same kind of pain on her. The room was dead silent, as Bulma stood there, the harsh words gouging deeper and deeper by the second. She turned to hide the tears from him, and answered in a pained voice, "As of right now, consider your self free of those obligations. Except for Trunks." She turned to Vegeta and clasped her hands as she spoke tears flowing freely from her blue eyes; "He adores you. Please Vegeta. Take care of him." Vegeta appeared to be struggling to understand what was going on. His face was expressionless as he fought to come up with a response, or anything. Taking his silence for dismissal, Bulma left before he could answer. He watched her hop onto a motorcycle from the window, her blue hair flying behind her as she took off to the east. He sat down shocked. Hurt. Angry... And something else he couldn't quite place at first, Sad? He thought in disbelief. Yes, and he felt alone. Something he hadn't felt for all of the thirteen years he had spent with the onna. Leaving one's mate was unheard of in his culture, but he knew that humans did it quite frequently. Sometimes they even come back. Vegeta clenched his fists as her voice echoed in his mind: 'consider yourself free of obligations'...'go our separate ways'...'take care of Trunks. Please Vegeta'... 'He adores you'. He sat in darkness for an undeterminable amount of time. He stared at his clenched hands as if they held the answer. He tensed slightly as he sensed his son watching him. He hadn't even noticed his arrival. My son. How often do I tell him how proud I am of him? How much I care about him? Never. He struggled to control his emotions as the boy cautiously approached him. Trunks put his small hands on his father's knees and stared the Saiyan prince directly in the face, "Tousan?" Silence answered him. The boy tried again, "Dad? Where's Mom?" Vegeta felt more pain at that moment than he had felt at all of his battles combined. His son's uncharacteristic display of openness toward his father was met by another uncharacteristic move. Vegeta hugged his son tightly. Something he had never done before. Trunks' eyes widened and he began to cry, even before his father could get the words out, "She left br-- Trunks. She's not coming back." Saturday October 26th Bulma signed out of the hotel room and got in a taxi which took her to Smooth's Smoothy and Ice Creem Shoppee. Maybe they have cappuccino, she thought, paying the impatient cab driver as she got out of the taxi. She opened the glass door, activating the bells that announced her entrance. Bulma shivered slightly as she noticed a feeling of 'badness' or evil that seemed to pulsate around the room. Only one other person occupied the room. Too stubborn to leave, tired, and determined to get a cappuccino here, Bulma sat down in one of the chairs near the door, placing her purse with her credit cards near her feet. The ancient chair squeaked in protest, causing the room's other occupant to turn toward the noise. Bulma felt a strange prickling sensation behind her eyes as she met the chocolate brown eyes of the woman. She was dressed in a cloak with a hood hiding all of her facial features except for her cold eyes. Bulma could have sworn that the woman was smiling coldly at her for a few seconds, before turning away again. Bulma sighed in relief, trying to forget the woman. She crossed her bare ankles under the table and noiselessly tapped her manicured fingernails on the tabletop. Her fingers ceased their movement as she recalled why she was in this hellhole in the first place. To forget my troubles. Funny how all of my 'troubles' are spelled v-e-g-e-t-a. She grimaced as she realized the impossibility of ever forgetting him. I love that jerk more than anything. Maybe I was being too critical of him. He wasn't born to earth time like me, so he probably has a different measure of time. How would he know an earth year or remember one day out of 365 others? Besides, on his planet, all they did on the anniversary of their 'joining' was have a night of wild sex. A slight smile played on the corners of her mouth as she remembered her reaction when Vegeta told her that not too long ago ~ 'Wow. That sounds pretty wild!' She had said in disbelief. Vegeta had laughed (something he rarely did) and pinned her beneath him, gently nibbling her ear as he spoke, seductively pressing against her, 'Do you want to find out for yourself?' ~ She said yes, of course. She felt that she could never say no to him. That was their last anniversary. They had a connection, a bond as Vegeta reluctantly called it (after hours of pouting and numerous threats of making him sleep on the couch). She put up with his crap and he put up with her bitching. They both knew her 'bitching' was really her expressing concern or her love for him. They both knew his arrogance was pretence as well. He was insecure and sensitive about his faults; his desire to be the best only equal to the uncertainty he felt about ever reaching his goal. ~ He once admitted after a particularly brutal training session that he felt he could never catch up with Son-kun and his 'stupid brat'. Bulma had handed him a towel, some water in a glass, and smiled at him, "You'll easily defeat them both one of these days Vegeta. I know you will." Vegeta had quickly finished his water and stared at her incredulously until Trunks came in the room, asking for dinner. ~ Bulma stirred slightly as she heard movement to her right. She turned to see what it was. Nothing there. She shrugged and went back to her thoughts. She had been sure that Trunks would bring out the best in Vegeta. How wrong she was! Instead, Vegeta wanted Trunks to become stronger than Gohan. His angry justification when she confronted him on the issue was that if he couldn't beat Kakkarot, than his son would. I guess that's Vegeta being affectionate. Bulma studied her nails with out really seeing them. Recently, she and Vegeta had been under constant increasing tension. He felt as though his "protecting this damn sorry excuse for a planet" was reason enough for her to do his bidding, and let him stay at Capsule Corporation. She didn't truly believe that Vegeta would help her around the house, but she SO wanted a man that would do something like that. She had been furiously been hoping he'd apologize or AT LEAST give her some credit for all she did. No normal woman or man appreciates being unappreciated, and Bulma was no exception. Maybe I'm attracted to the wrong kind of guy. Bulma thought, instantly dismissing the thought. Hell. I know I love that Saiyan. I'm in love with him. While he may not show it or express it (especially in public) I know he has to have some kind of feelings for me, or we would never have been able to bond. Bulma felt a tear sliding down her cheek and she hastily wiped it away. The too quiet and almost deserted shopee finally got on her nerves. Besides, there's no service. This place is totally haunted. She stood up, scraping the oak chair on the sticky tile floor loudly. She looked behind her to see the hooded woman once more before she left, but she was nowhere in sight. But she didn't leave. What's going on here? She thought incredulously. She turned to leave, picking up her purse, and came face to face with the woman in question. The hauntingly beautiful, yet somehow somewhat translucent face smiled mirthlessly at her. Bulma opened her mouth, preparing to ask the disconcerting woman to move, but she felt paralyzed. She couldn't move an inch. The hooded beauty chuckled loudly, "If you thought you could escape your fate, you must be less intelligent than I gave you credit for." Outside of the Son-house… "Gone? But why?" Goku asked puzzled his hand behind his head in typical puzzled Goku fashion. "Because she and Dad had an argument, and--" "Quiet boy." Vegeta told Trunks with no real conviction behind the words. Trunks obeyed regardless, unused to his father's somewhat placid attitude. Goku turned from the boy to Vegeta and then back to Trunks, "Hey, you know what Trunks? Goten's inside if you two want to play." Trunks rolled his eyes, "If you want to have a private conversation with Dad, you could have just told me. I'm not dumb you know." With that, the youngster walked into the house to find his friend. Goku chuckled, that boy's too smart-just like his mother. He turned to Vegeta, the smile leaving his face. He'd seen his friend through a lot. Yes, he definitely considered Vegeta his friend. After all the times the older Saiyan had saved his life, helped the Z-gang save the earth. And when he saved Gohan's life. They were the last of a warrior race and in a way this made them brothers. I somehow don't think Vegeta would like that idea. This thought amused him briefly. Sure, Vegeta swore he'd kill Goku, or beat the daylights out of him at least five times a day, but as far as Goku was concerned, that was Vegeta trying to hold onto something to let him stay on the planet. The taller Saiyan put a comforting hand on Vegeta's shoulder, trying to show the expressionless Prince how badly he felt for him. As expected, Vegeta shrugged the hand off; instead the troubled warrior dropped unexpectedly to his knee, his face raised to the clear sky, as though he was searching for answers, or even Bulma. The only other indication of his inner turmoil was the bleakness in his usually alert black eyes. He spoke calmly, softly, "Why Kakkarot?" Goku sat down Indian-style near the clearly distressed Saiyan, "I guess she was angry and she couldn't take it any more." He looked at the green grass beneath him as he said this. It hurt him to say the phrase, and he knew that it probably hurt Vegeta to hear it, but it was his opinion and he felt obligated to get it out. If it was wrong, he wanted Vegeta to correct him. Vegeta gave up his sky searching and sucked in his breath, looking briefly at Goku before looking somewhere to the horizon, and exhaling loudly in an almost exasperated sigh, "I was asking you why it hurts so much." The phrase would have given most people a myocardial infarction (a heart attack), but Goku wasn't really surprised. As a matter of fact, if the circumstances weren't so grim, he would have smiled at the slightly confused look in the Saiyan's eyes. "It hurts because you DO have a heart Vegeta. You haven't admitted it to yourself, but you love Bulma and she's become a part of you now. You bonded with her...didn't you?" "No!" Vegeta denied everything while mentally damning himself. Goku could sense the battle within the hurt warrior and he remained silent. Vegeta growled in anger, "Damn it! This is why I didn't want to f*cking bond in the first place!" Kakkarot tried putting a hand on his shoulder again in a comforting gesture and he looked up from the ground, "She's hurting too Vegeta. She may not act like it, but she's really sensitive when it comes to the people she loves. She'll be back." If not for Vegeta, than for Trunks. Goku felt self-disgust as soon as the bizarre and cruel thought entered his head. He put the back of a hand to his forehead, either I'm getting sick or it's a little too close to dinnertime. Vegeta thought a minute, before his troubled onyx eyes locked onto the sincere and compassionate ones of Goku's, "And what then?" He asked, uncharacteristic indecisiveness in his voice. Goku felt the full extent of the Prince's pain through his eyes, and through the contact he was making with Vegeta's shoulder. He retrieved his hand and turned away, concentrating on a blade of grass, "That's for you two to figure out." Vegeta stood in a fluid motion. He wiped traces of dirt from his knees, and the seat of his pants. He felt only calm and much more control than before. He turned his back to Goku before speaking, "Tell my son he can stay at your house tonight." He bent his knees slightly before blasting away. Goku smiled slightly as he stood also, typical Vegeta. He stepped into his house, searching for Chichi. She was waiting for him anxiously in the kitchen. She stepped closer to her husband, placing a trembling hand on his chest, "What happened? Where's Bulma?" Goku looked into his wife's panicky eyes before answering; "She left." A little angrily, Chichi put her hands on her hips, "Serves Vegeta right for being such a jerk!" How did Bulma put up with him for so long? Her husband shook his head disapprovingly at his wife, "Chichi, try to comprehend how Vegeta must feel right now. " He told his wife all that occurred a few minutes ago, down to the last detail. Chichi was momentarily speechless, but she quickly recovered. Her once hard, unforgiving eyes filled with unshed tears, "That poor man! I feel terrible for him. Bulma also. Do-do you think she'll come back Goku?" The Saiyan took his wife within his strong embrace, "I hope so Chichi." For Trunks' sake, our sakes...but most of all, Vegeta's sanity's sake.
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Bulma slowly woke from her unconscious state. Strangely, during this time, she had felt closer to Vegeta than ever, as if she was with him. He was upset. He wanted her back. This gave a part of her a sort of cruel satisfaction, but she quickly pushed this twisted thought away. Great Dende above! What the hell was I thinking? I need him. She rose from the narrow cot she had been lying on, ignoring the aches and pains that are the side effects of sleeping on a thin, lumpy mattress. Bulma squinted into the darkness, and as the unfamiliar surroundings somehow became more visible, she slowly began to recall what happened, That crazy hooded lady at the shoppee. She paralyzed me. And then she muttered something and I lost consciousness. Ahead of her and to the right, Bulma could see the faint outline of an object. She felt her anger growing as shock began to wear off, "Where am I? What the hell do you want from me?" She screamed into the darkness, as she sensed the evil of the hooded woman. A cold voice answered her, "Patience my dear. Exercise patience. I have. I've been waiting for you for the past 1,000 years." Bulma recoiled from the voice, slowly easing back onto the cot, "Why?" She asked hesitantly. The room was immediately filled with light, and Bulma cried out, shielding her eyes until they became used to the glare of the overhead lights. Before her stood a beautiful woman who appeared to be in her early to mid-twenties. Her auburn hair and chocolate brown eyes set off her clothes. She was wearing a short, tight, black dress that showed off her ample bosom. Her merciless mouth turned up in one corner at the look of terror on Bulma's face. "Why? Because I'm back with a vengeance and I will have what I've been wanting all this time. Freedom." Trunks made sure the Son family was busy in the kitchen before furtively making the call in Gohan's room. Three rings later and someone finally picked up the phone. "This is the Satan City Police Department. What's your emergency?" A bored voice asked. Trunks took a few shallow breaths and thought desperately of his mother to bring the hurt and devastation back into his voice, "My mother! She's been kidnapped!" "Calm down son. What's your mother's name?" Trunks hesitated slightly. Did he dare tell them that his mother, the richest and smartest woman on the planet had been kidnapped when in truth she hadn't (as far as he knows)? He nodded decisively to himself before continuing, "Her name is Bulma Briefs." A squawk of surprise and the sound of someone falling out of their seat and trying to get back up met his ear. The dispatcher took a few deep breaths to calm himself, "Bulma Briefs has been kidnapped? But how? I mean the security at Capsule Corp is the best in the--" It didn't take much effort for Trunks to burst into real tears; something he had wanted to do for a long time now. The dispatcher smacked himself, "Listen, I'm sorry kid. I'll send a few officers over, okay?" Trunks hung up and quickly controlled his tears. He turned around only to find Goku watching him silently. He felt guilty for what he did and couldn't meet the eyes of his best friend's father. Goku sighed and put his hands on Trunks' shoulders, "Trunks. I'm not going to say what you did was right, because it wasn't. But I suppose it was something you felt you had to do. Who knows, the police may find her." But if they put her under their protection, Bulma will get pissed. She never liked to be smothered. "Maybe you should go home and stay with your Tousan, Trunks. He needs you at a time like this. You need him. And you have to go tell him what you did." "Hai." The boy said sadly. He looked up to find that he was in his own house. Goku waved once and used Instant Transmission again to go back to his own house. Trunks shoved his hands in his pockets and began to search for his father's ki. He ran to the 'family room' as Bulma jokingly called the kitchen. ("This is the only place where all three of us can be found together") and halted as he saw the outline of his father. Vegeta was sitting in his customary place at the table. At the other end was Bulma's spot, and in between the two was where Trunks ate. Vegeta looked blankly at his son as though he had never seen him before. "Who the hell are you?" "Dad?" Trunks asked warily. Realization hit the Saiyan hard. His eyes filled with recognition for a moment before it was replaced with irritation. "What do you want boy? And where's your mother? It's time for dinner." The demi-Saiyan ignored the hurt that hit him at seeing his father like this, "Dad, I called the police and I told them Mom was kidnapped. I did it because...because I can't believe that she left." Vegeta nodded almost understandingly, a trace of his old self, appearing in his dark orbs, "She was kidnapped." His son's eyes narrowed skeptically, "Are you making fun of me dad?" Vegeta scowled and with lightening speed, moved across the room to his son, who he hoisted up by his collar, "You little fool. A woman kidnapped her. You were NOT lying, even though you thought you were. Through the bond that exists between mother and child you could sense what REALLY happened." Trunks' eyes widened. The 'lie' had come to him rather easily. Too easily now that he thought about it. Dad's right. I must have known subconsciously. His eyes widened as he realized something; "You and Mom are bonded father. Can't you use the bond to find her?" Vegeta released the boy and shook his head; "I can not. Her mental defenses are up. She's guarding herself against something."
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In the open and curious fashion Bulma had possessed since the age of one, Bulma reached out to touch the woman. As the genius had suspected, her captor wasn't all there. Physically. "Are-are you a ghost?" The woman shook her head, "No. I am a malignant spirit. I'm also skilled in witchcraft." "How?" Bulma asked incredulously. "Ah...I'm glad you asked." The woman in the black dress stated. >I was a rebel. Heck, it was 1692 and every girl secretly desired a chance to rebel and rise up against the strict Puritan beliefs and be noticed. A one-time friend of mine, Abigail Williams, started making claims of witchcraft in Salem. She wrote me many letters telling me of the power these lies brought her. Her fame increased her social status and villages throughout Massachusetts began to desire her company. Being the servant girl of a sickly old crone, I began to dream of this power. At first, I was against charging the innocent of such crimes, but I soon got over those silly feelings. I quickly developed a plan on my own (so I wouldn't have to share the glory with anyone else). I went into the woods on a dark cold night when I knew there would be a town meeting close by. To get to the meeting place, the whole village HAD TO pass where I was stationed. I danced, something forbidden at that time. I had a pot and in it, I put anything I could find. I even cut my wrist and added that of a neighbor's pig. I chanted gibberish and tried to look as convincing as possible. Apparently, I did too well in my attempts. The town came upon me and instantly believed me to be a witch. I tried to convince them that I was being controlled by Goody Bates (Goody at that time is the equivalent of Missus or Miss today), the crone I worked for, but they were unwilling to believe me. The forced me to drink the mixture that I had been cooking over a fire and made me dance, jeering and mocking me all the while. They pressed coals to my chest and burned me until I confessed to lying. Finally they took me to jail. I had been raised to strong religious standards and principles, but that night as I lay beaten, burned, and bruised in that cell, I swore a black vengeance on the town. I knew there was none in heaven that would help me, so I turned to Hell, offering my soul in return for assistance. The general of Hell's army granted me my wish. I was to give him my soul and my body. I was given 1,000 years to find a woman to switch places with; someone beautiful, smart, and with the potential of a great evil equal to only that of the devil himself. < "And that's where you come in, my dear." She ended with a cold smile. Bulma blanched, "You want me to take your place as a demon's mistress? And you want to take my place on earth?" She scowled, putting her hands on her hips angrily; "There's no way in Hell--" The woman put a finger to Bulma's lips, silencing her, "Yes, there IS a way in Hell. And I've found it."
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"She was wearing a green dress with black shoes. She was on a motorcycle and…she was wearing silver earrings with a matching band on her left ring finger." Trunks said slowly to the policeman. The officer took some notes and looked up from his notepad at the boy, "Where's your father son?" "He'll be back soon; he's not here right now." Trunks lied. "All right, all right. And about this motorcycle, do you know the license plate number or any distinguishing characteristics it may possess?" "Well," Trunks sighed, "It's white and blue and the license plate says 'Bulma'. That's all I can think of. Oh yeah, it might have a small dent in it." His mother told him a long time ago how the dent got there. She had taken Vegeta for a ride once, "just to have a little fun. Your father almost got me killed! I was driving, and I somehow convinced your father to ride in the back and he had the to try and make me go faster! I willingly complied and sped up. We were probably going about 235 miles per hour, when a dinosaur just came out of nowhere. I was screaming and I tried to brake us before we hit it. I swerved and ran into a rock; a PEBBLE and I flew off the motorcycle. Vegeta was fine of course and he somehow managed to catch me before I landed (this gave me big time whiplash) but my motorcycle was ruined! I started to cry, partly because of the crashed motorcycle, but mostly because I almost died. Your father acted as if it was no big deal. After I calmed down, we walked home together. We didn't talk didn't even look at each other, but I knew then that I'd love him forever." "Hey! Are you all right?" The officer said. Trunks blinked and then nodded his head. "Yeah. I'll be fine." "We'll get back to you if we find any leads." The officer waved and left, closing the door behind him softly. His eyes turned to the direction of the gravity machine, where his father was training. A little angrily, Trunks sat on the couch, trying to push the thought out of his head; doesn't Dad even care about Mom being gone?
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Vegeta fought desperately to turn the gravity machine off. He'd been doing fine at first, when he had been fueled by his primal rage, but he could take no more. One of his blasts hit him squarely in the chest, sending him flying into a wall. He knew now that the only way he'd live through this would be if he could turn the machine off. His hand hovered over the button briefly, is your life really worth the effort? A tiny voice mocked in the back of his mind. He slammed his hand down on the button in response, struggling to rise from the floor as the gravity shut off. He could sense Trunks' anger directed toward him, but he didn't care. He could sense Goku's concern for him, but he didn't care. He could sense nothing from his primary bond with his mate and this was what was driving him to the brink of madness. He finally got to his feet and walked slowly out of the room, not noticing the blood dripping from his chest. He saw his son watching him and he tried to keep his controlled stance as the boy stood up. "Dad! You're hurt!" The youngster exclaimed, almost hysterically cautiously approaching his father and eyeing the wound. Vegeta pushed the boy away from him with more strength than he thought he possessed at that moment, "This is nothing boy." He growled, swaying slightly on his feet. Trunks' eyes watered slightly, "You're all I have left now Dad. Unless we find Mom." Vegeta flinched at the emotion evident in his son's eyes, but tried to make his tone less hostile, "Nothing is going to happen to me boy. I'll be here." He purposely refrained from mentioning his mate. In his eyes, she was either dead, or mating with someone else. That's the only reason why she would be blocking me. He thought angrily, going to the medical ward. There's no hope left then. Trunks thought, turning away from his father's retreating form. *******
Later that day… "Hello?" "Hey. This is the police. We found your mom's motorcycle at Smoothy's something or other. Her purse too. No witnesses, no signs of a struggle, but we found a few strands of her hair outside, so we know she was here." Trunks dropped the phone and went to tell his dad the news.
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"My husband--" "Yes, please. Lie some more. It only makes you more desirable in the eyes of a demon of hell." Her captor purred. Bulma began anew, furious, "Vegeta, my mate will not let you get away with this." Even if my worst fear was true and I was just a lay to him, I am a damn good lay and he can't afford to lose me. "Listen here…whatever your name is--" "Hope. Hope Lewis." The woman laughed. "Ironic, isn't it? Because you don't have a hope or even a chance of getting out of this." The auburn woman frowned slightly and extended her right and left palms in front of her, sending her captive flying. Bulma slammed against a wall, and lost her breath. Magically, chains came from nowhere and attached to the wall, and closed around her slender wrists. Hope eyed her handiwork with a satisfied smirk on her face, "We have plenty of time to talk. Five days, maybe six, I'm not exactly sure. Enjoy your stay. Maybe we can hang out later." She chuckled, disappearing in a cloud of red smoke. Bulma struggled to free herself from the chains, but their grip on her was as cold, impersonal, and merciless as her captor. She ceased her efforts, deciding that it was hopeless. The room was bare, no windows, no carpeting, no pictures, or even any furniture. The bed had disappeared at some time. There were no determinable dimensions to the room, so Bulma could not tell where it ended. Bulma's head snapped up as she remembered something, The bond! Why the heck can't I sense Vegeta? She thought in alarm. The bond was supposed to alert them when the other was in trouble, yet it wasn't working for some reason. Has the bond diminished somehow? Or has Vegeta blocked me out?
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Sunday October 26… I laughed as the bystanders were killed. Fools. How dare they get in the way of the most beautiful powerful being in existence? They got exactly what they deserved. Death. By my hand. It was rather exhilarating; Goody Prater threw herself over her bastard husband as I was preparing to kill him. How strange that she was willing to die for him. The children, there were five of them, clung to the mother. I killed all seven of them. The neighbors, who were watching were bystanders. They were killed. I was in a good mood, so I didn't take out their entrails, or dismember anyone. What can I say, killing makes me happy and at that moment, I was happier than I had been in my whole life. I walked out of their home, throwing my hair over my shoulder. I stepped over the body of a deceased four-year-old I had recently killed and went on to find my next victim. < Bulma slowly began to wake from the horrific dream that had been running through her head for hours now. The details haunted her. These 'dreams' or visions into Hope's past were much like being in a virtual reality machine. In the dream, it was BULMA who killed the five children. It was BULMA who set their house on fire soon after, and it was BULMA who was happy at HER accomplishments. Unknown to Bulma, these visions were given to her with the sole purpose of poisoning her heart. She licked her chapped lips, and smirked as she remembered killing the bastard husband. As her foggy mind began to comprehend what she was doing, she felt as though she was going to weep, yet she could not. These visions were slowly poisoning her soul and her mind/body. Her appearance began to change. Her once innocent and open face took on a sultry, secretive outlook, and like Hope, she was beginning to radiate evil. Her clear blue eyes darkened to a navy blue and her green dress was now a scarlet red. Last, her short turquoise locks had increased considerably in length and luster, adding to her whole 'evil' persona. Something shifted in Bulma's mind as she hung suspended to that wall by chains and she felt immense power coming to her from an unknown source. She licked her shiny red lips in anticipation. Using little effort, she broke the chains with her mind and changed her location, so that she was right in front of Hope. The auburn spirit/demoness/witch recovered quickly from her shock, closing a book quickly and hiding it behind her, "How did you get here?" Bulma laughed, her dark eyes gleaming in malice. "Magic. Just like you Hope." With devastating speed, Bulma closed the distance between the two and slammed her former captor to the floor, placing a black spiked heel to her chest, and grinding it into the witch's flesh. "You are my slave now."
**********
Soon now, very soon, I will have my entertainment. She is a fiery one, and as the people down here know; that for me the hotter the better. She's gained so much power; I couldn't help but notice that. Now that she is on our side her appearance has changed. She looks like one of us. I'm not sure if I like that; I was attracted to the innocent look she had, but now it's gone. She has beaten Hope, which is good because I was having trouble coming up with ways to get rid of her. How she does try my patience. Always bothering me with her stories of injustice and the vengeance she wishes to seek on mankind in general. As if I really give a damn about that stupid bitch. The demon approached the doors to his master's throne room pushing them open with a flourish, I will be watching and I will be waiting my sweet.
**********
No other sign of her at all! Where could she be? I know she's not dead or Dad says I would have felt it. Her life force disappeared at one point and was replaced with another's, but I know that no one could have replaced her in our bond. This is crazy! "Why can't I live a normal life like everybody else?" Trunks yelled to no one, frustrated.
**********
At the back of my mind, I can sense something, but I can't quite put a finger on what it is. The 'thing' is a force; a strong one, but it lies dormant and does nothing. I wonder what it could be and what it's doing in my head. I know it could be dangerous; fatal even and I wonder why it's watching and waiting. But what is it waiting and watching for? She shrugged the feeling off. Bulma winked and blew a kiss to the reflections all around her. Fifty Bulma's winked and kissed her back, with sly smiles on their faces. Bulma smiled and transported herself to where she had startled Hope earlier. She wanted to find what that weakling was reading about in that book. The large dusty volume was found, with loose covers and many torn pages. Bulma was unimpressed with it's appearance, until looking closer. The book was called Acquiring Power. In about two hours, Bulma had read it over quickly and destroyed it when she was done; sending flames through her fingertips. Interesting piece of work, but dangerous if it gets into the wrong hands. Like Hope's… She waved a hand absently, making a gust of wind to send the cinders of the book away from her. She smiled as she used her mental powers to 'see' Hope in her mind. The witch was tied, blindfolded, and gagged. At first, Bulma had considered killing the weaker woman, but that force, that thing in the back of her mind kept her from doing so. She transported to an infinite room in one of the newer dimensions that are indirectly attached to Hell {the infinite room goes on forever, like the hyperbolic time chamber; only time passes by normally inside}. The blue haired woman eyed her form critically; this form will have to do. She thought disapprovingly. She flexed an arm experimentally, and frowned, I better get to work if I'm going to defeat this demon. I will not be forced to f*** anyone. Satan help me, I will be no one's bitch. She smirked slightly as she began stretching, I will conquer all.
**********
Vegeta woke up instantaneously (is this the right word?) as he always did, only this time, his dream lingered slightly in his mind. He reached an arm out to push his onna out of bed (as he does every morning that he sleeps in the house). She never remembered to make breakfast early enough unless he 'persuaded' her. A cold pillow was all his hand met, bringing the present back with a jolt. The Prince of Saiyans no longer felt pain. In a way, he was over Bulma's disappearance. He knew from his dreams that Bulma had regretted leaving. She wanted to come back. This changed everything completely. Vegeta got out of the bed and began his morning exercises. Bulma never allowed him to do them in the house before she left. Usually he did them in the gravity room, but he didn't want to go down the stairs and talk to his son yet. Trunks would easily sense the anticipation in his father's features, and Vegeta wasn't ready to deal with that kind of emotion yet. As he did his one-fingered pushups, part of his dream came back to haunt him.
******
He could see Bulma sitting before him at the table, just as they had been before she left. "Vegeta, I already told you that I was kidnapped by a woman, didn't I?" Vegeta felt numb, but he nodded curtly, prompting her to continue. "I forgot to tell you that I'm free now. I'll be back in a few days. Don't come looking for me, okay? I'm sorry I left, but I know now that you were right. I just need some time to think things over." She stopped and frowned down at her hands, her long blue curls hiding her expression, until she looked up into his eyes with her gleaming navy blue orbs, smiling/smirking. "I'll be back soon." *******
Daemon's eyes snapped open. Dream manipulation was elementary; something he was exceedingly talented in. The only down side was that the present appearance of the subject on his side would be portrayed. So, if the subject changed in his/her transition to evil, than he had to portray that image. Usually, people were too heart broken and desperate to catch sight of their loved one, that they didn't notice. He rubbed his smooth, unlined palms together slowly, his green eyes lighting up behind his locks of black hair. Now that Vegeta's out of the way, I can get what--I mean who I want. He held a hand out in the air; making a circular motion. The technique allowed him to view the person of his choice at any point he so desired. He snarled angrily as nothing appeared in the mist of the circle he had formed. She's blocking me somehow. She's up to something. But what?