Lies | By : Dragonheart Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 691 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
AUTHOR: Dragonheart287
RATING: R
PAIRINGS: Radditz/Zarbon
WARNING: Yaoi, language, angst,
dark fic, character death, fictional religious themes
SUMMARY: With his memory
gone, all Zarbon knows is to keep running as Frieza wants him dead. What he did
he can’t remember. The voice in his head knows though and it isn’t going to
tell him any time soon.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own
anything in connection with the characters used in this fic. In addition, I
hold no ownership over the lyrics used to support the chapters.
Lies
Part I
‘Bound at
every limb by my shackles of fear
Sealed with lies through so many tears
Lost from within, pursuing the end
I fight for the chance to be lied to again’
(Evanescence – Lies)
--------
Everybody has a past but, then again, most
people can remember what it held. That’s the difference between me and most
people; I can’t remember. I know I must have a past. You don’t just wake up one
day and find yourself on the run from one of the worst tyrants in history after
all.
I don’t know what I did. All I
know is the simple fact that I have to keep running. I’ll die if I don’t. He
wants me dead. So, with only this knowledge, I keep going without looking back.
I’ve stayed in many places but never for more than one night. Then I have to
keep moving again.
I have to hand it to them,
they’re fast. If I stay in one place longer than I need to they’re easily able
to catch up. This Frieza, whoever he is, must really want me dead if they keep
following me like this.
What I don’t get is why I’m
wanted dead. My earliest memory now is waking up in a pile of rubble and blood.
There was a stench all around me. I’ve never really smelt it before, or at
least I don’t think I have, but I recognised it easily.
All around me was the stench of
death. Destruction. There were bodies. Bodies all around me with all sorts of
things missing. Legs. Arms. Heads. All of them covered with markings wherever
there was a free bit of flesh. Not that it mattered though. I saw the same
markings where there wasn’t skin; on shards of muscles, exposed skulls and
whatever else spilled out of torn bodies.
Some of them were still alive.
I saw soldiers still alive with the top of their heads missing, with half their
face burnt into black charcoal. Some of them were moaning out things about
pains in their legs. Legs that they didn’t have any more.
Did I do all that? Whatever it
was, could it be possible that I was the cause? I don’t know. Like I said,
that’s my earliest memory now. No childhood, no hardships, no family. No memory
at all. Just waking up in the middle of all this horrible death. I couldn’t
even recall my own name. I heard them calling me Zarbon so I assume that’s what
it is.
Those who were alive enough
recognised me. Those who were strong enough came after me so I left. I ran and
I haven’t looked back since.
I have no idea what happened
and I have no intension of asking those who are after me. I’ve learnt enough
about Frieza to know that he could kill me before the blink of an eye. I don’t
plan to die at least until I know what happened.
The voice knows though.
--------
“Time to get up! Time to get
up!”
Zarbon woke with a load grunt
as something small but heavy jumped onto his chest. Tired eyes opened to see
the young son of his host with a wide grin set over his face, already wide
awake at this early hour. Or at least he assumed it was. He couldn’t see past
the boy but the windows had nothing in front of them and there was no light
coming through.
“Time to get up!” he repeated,
hopping back onto the floor once he was sure that Zarbon was now awake. Still
with the large grin on his face, he began to tug on his arm. “Cummon! It’s time
for the morning offerings and praise!”
“The what now?” Zarbon sat up
with a yawn, trying to get himself fully awake. Damn, he was usually a lot more
awake by now, all this avoiding death must be taking more out of him than he
thought.
“Novolo!” a sharp and scolding
voice came from the door as the boys mother appeared, arms folded across her
chest in a no-nonsense manner. “Come out now. Stop bothering him and go out to
wait.”
“Yes mama,” with his grin
deflating, the boy named Novolo shuffled out of the room, bottom lip stuck out
in a pout.
“Don’t mind him,” the large
woman glanced back at her boy with a smile once he had left. “The morning
offering and praise is tradition on this planet but visitors are not expected
to join in. I’ll get some food when we come back so you can get some more sleep
if you like.”
“Don’t bother, I’ll be gone by
then,” now fully awake, his legs swung over to the side of the bed so that the
green visitor was able to stand. Grabbing the long cloak from where it had fallen
onto the floor, he set to adjusting it so that it would cover most of his form.
“I may as well go now.”
“As you wish,” she nodded in
understanding before the woman straightened up to look at him. “But, if I may
say, I have noticed how sad your eyes look. Are you looking for something, is
that why you’re travelling?”
“I suppose,” Zarbon just
shrugged as he pushed his feet into the boots that he had taken to wearing.
Since the accident, he guessed he could call it, he had done a few things to
alter his appearance. First, obviously, was clothing. He had found a pair of
intact trousers and sleeveless shirt at Frieza’s base; he assumed that they
were used for casual training or something of the sort. He had also found a
pair of standard boots and gloves. His hair was shorter now, tied back in a
loose ponytail instead of the braid that he had found it in. Zarbon had also
wanted to get rid of the earrings and head dress but, for some reason, they
wouldn’t move. Somehow the ends were buried deep into his skin and wouldn’t
come out. He guessed that if he still had his memory he would know why they
were like that but now he had no idea. So he did the only thing that he could
and left them where they were.
The loud sound of a bell
ringing suddenly cut through the air, causing the woman to look up sharply.
Zarbon suddenly realised that he had never gotten her name.
“That’s my signal to go,” he
smoothed down the clothing that she wore in preparation. “Whatever it is, I
hope you find it. And know that you’re always welcome here.”
Zarbon just grunted as he
nodded in thanks.
--------
“Damn piece of shit!” Radditz
growled as he kicked the space pod sharply, only to draw out another low hiss
from somewhere deep inside it. “These things have been screwy ever since Zarbon
flipped. I’d like to know whatever the hell it is he did to them.”
Opening it up at the side,
Radditz was quickly able identify the problem. Being the son of a scientist had
its advantages and it was an even bigger stroke of luck that some of the
technology that Frieza used came from the Saiyan culture. Well, in truth it was
originally from the Tuffles.
The problem was easy enough to
spot, it would be getting the spare part needed that would be the problem. They
usually had to be specially ordered.
As he closed it up again,
Radditz’s shouldered slumped with a heavy sigh. He certainly wasn’t going
anywhere soon so he decided that he might as well take a look around. Maybe the
planet that he was on would have what he was looking for.
All of a sudden a thought pushed
its way into his head, so he reached inside his space pod he pulled out the
standard issue training clothes that were given to each soldier. He wasn’t here
directly on a mission after all, plus it would be better not going in his
recognisable uniform either; particularly as the one being hunted used to be a
warrior as well.
“Who knows,” he added verbally with a smile. “I might just find the
target around here; this was the area where his life signal was last picked up
after all.”
--------
A couple of hours later Radditz
found himself even more annoyed than he had been. His hopes of finding spare
parts for his space pod had long since been flattened seeing as this planet
seemed as primitive as it could get. The markets were full of nothing but food,
strange garments of clothing and other odds and ends that Radditz didn’t recognise.
Cheerful music from odd
instruments floated around him but Radditz tried not to pay attention to it.
Only just able to stop his lips from curling upwards, that was easier said then
done.
Quickening his pace, the tall
Saiyan began pushing his way more hastily through the crowds. He wanted to get
away from this mind-numbingly cheerful music as soon as possible before
contemplating on what he should do next. With his ship in such bad condition
and him on a planet that seemed very limited in technology, things weren’t
looking too good.
Stepping around a group of
children who were running and playing, seemingly oblivious to the people around
them, Radditz swerved to the side a little only to heavily jolt someone.
Quickly steadying himself and spinning on his heels, the Saiyan was ready to
fix whoever he had hit with a glare but stopped at what he saw. Although it was
only visible for a second, he was sure that he saw a flash of golden eyes and
green hair before the stranger pulled a cloak hood back over its head and
hurried away.
No, not a stranger. Radditz
knew who that was, even if the sighting had only been for a split second. That
was Zarbon, it had to be!
Without a word, he went to
follow him but his path was blocked by the group of children again, the ones
who seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that other people used the paths of
the busy market. With a fierce but quiet growl, the warrior clenched and
unclenched his fists at his sides. There was nothing that he could do right now
that wouldn’t draw attention to him and that wasn’t what he wanted right now.
The stares that he was getting for his sheer size and hair length were bad
enough.
With his eyes cast downward, he
proceeded to navigate his way through the moving sea of happy children, being
careful yet also restraining himself so that he didn’t step on any in the
process, deliberate or accidental. Once he had cleared that obstacle he looked
up only to find that Zarbon had vanished.
With another growl, he surveyed
the scene. Between the buildings there appeared to be a complex network of
alleyways, the perfect place for someone to hide.
And also the perfect place for
a hunter to trap his pray.
--------
After taking a couple of paces
down the alleyway that he had ducked into, Zarbon turned to make sure that he hadn’t
been followed. Sure that he hadn’t, he sighed softly as he pulled the hood from
off his head. The sun rose quickly here and it was far too hot to keep it on.
Zarbon had found that, for some reason, he didn’t tend to do so well in heat
such as this.
But that wasn’t his biggest
worry as he cursed himself. Although the tall man that had stumbled into him
hadn’t been wearing the battle armour, he was sure that he was one of Frieza’s
men. None of the people around here had an appearance like him, despite it
being a very multi-cultural race. That meant that he would have to leave here
as soon as possible.
*What’s the point? They’ll keep
following you, they always do. They won’t stop until they catch you in a corner
and then what will you do?*
Zarbon growled to himself as
one hand shot up to his head. His fist tightened to clutch some of his hair.
That voice, that voice was back again.
*You can try to ignore me but I won’t go
away. I’ll stay with you, always here right inside your head where you can’t
escape me.*
“Stop it!” his voice came out
in a harsh whisper as his pace quickened. His hand still on his head, Zarbon
went deeper into the complex network of alleyways. “Why won’t you just leave?”
*Because then I wouldn’t have my
fun. You walk through these alleyways, walking so aimlessly. Just like looking
for your past, travelling aimlessly to nothing but more darkness.*
“You know what I did don’t
you?”
*I’ve already told you that I do. I know what
you’ve unleashed. It’s all here buried deep within your mind with me. Right
where you can’t get.*
“Why can’t you just tell me?
Would it be that bad for me to know?”
*I don’t tell you because it’s
more fun this way. It’s more fun seeing you suffer, wondering alone in the
dark. Forever lost, always wondering with nowhere to go. What you did is what
binds you to that fate. Bound by invisible chains. Shackles made of want but
fear of the past.*
“Leave me alone!”
*Only one way to do that* the voice began to
tease and joke, obviously enjoying itself in its torture. *You go, I go. Or do I? Maybe
I’ll forever remain with you, always with you inside your head even in the
afterlife. Wouldn’t that be interesting? Or maybe your death will mean your peace.
Only one way to find out. Spill your blood, take what is left of your soul.*
“I have no intension of dying!”
*But that is what you’re
pursuing. You’re pursuing the end. The knowledge of your path will be your
death. The darkness you’re in has no light.*
“Stop it!” Zarbon came to a
halt, clutching at his head with both hands. The tall buildings towering
overhead were blocking the sun now from wherever his aimless wondering had
taken him. Laughter erupted inside his mind, that cruel, twisted, tormenting
laughter. He covered his ears but nothing he could do would block that hideous
sound.
His knees bucked and Zarbon’s
head was thrown back with a great but strangled cry as he pushed out all the
power in his body. The ground beneath him shook but it seemed that nothing
would shift the laughter. The voice would always remain, knowing what he had
done but keeping that knowledge in darkness where it was impossible to find.
*Afraid of lies, afraid of tears. Afraid of
the chains that holds his fears,* the voice was chanting to
him again. That horrible chant that would drive him closer and closer to
insanity every time he heard it. *Running in darkness, nothing to see. No one
to find, not even me. He wants his past but soon he’ll find, he’ll meet his death
instead when he loses his mind!*
“Stop it!” hunched over, his
forehead was nearly on the ground as he tried to will the taunting voice away.
The laughter and chanting continued over and over again to make his ears ring
and his body shudder. “Get out of my head! Get out! Get out and leave me
alone!”
He could feel hot tears
coursing down his face as his body began to shake violently, his hysteric state
beginning to overtake him. His head throbbed and his vision began to swim.
The burning was back again.
Something was burning his head.
Something was pulling him into
darkness but Zarbon fought against it. He would lose, he knew that. The
darkness always won but he would keep on fighting anyway. He didn’t want to go
back into that darkness, where the laughter and voices would continue to drift
all around him, slowly pushing him near the edge of that thin line between
sanity and madness. Pushing him towards it but never letting him completely
fall so that next time they could start all over again.
Falling completely, he was
taken by surprise when he didn’t hit the ground. Instead it felt like something
caught him. Blurry eyes opened and he was only just able to register whose arms
he had fallen into.
The soldier from the market
place.
He’d been caught. He couldn’t
let….
--------
He was back in front of that
grave again, the same one that he always ended up in front of when the darkness
pulled him in. There was nowhere else to go so he didn’t move; unfocused eyes
just stared at the great piece of stone that stood before him.
A breeze had picked up and blew
his hair in front of his eyes but he could still make out the large symbol that
was carved into the top of the grave. It looked like a sun and a star mixed
into one, points jutting out in every available direction. In the middle there
was an eye, staring out blankly at him. There was something deeply disturbing
about that eye in the way it stared out at him; knowing and accusing. Any other
person would just shrug off even such a disturbing looking eye and accept it as
part of the culture but what bothered him about it was that he recognised that
mark.
It was the same one that he had
seen left on the dead and dying soldiers when he had woken up with no memory.
There was no writing on the
grave, just the symbol. Still, he had the feeling that he knew who it belonged
to. There was a feeling deep inside him that he had been standing here before,
in a time when he hadn’t been dreaming. There had been a time in his forgotten
past when he had been standing right here in front of this grave. No matter how
much he tried, however, he just couldn’t remember.
Then it started happening, just
like always. The eye on the carving blinked and when it opened the pupil was a
gold colour, like his. Gold outlined with a deep blood red. Slowly this blood
colour filled up the pupil until it seemed that it was unable to hold anymore.
The eye blinked again, this
time the blood spilled out. It seeped out and ran down the grave, speeding up
more and more as it went. Soon the whole gravestone was covered in blood but
still it kept going and continued onto the ground.
Every time since he had woken
up on Frieza’s base he had been having this dream but, even so, he still felt
that unbearable fear grip and squeeze any life that was left in his heart. He
still felt the fear as he watched the blood creep closer and closer towards him
at an alarming pace.
All the while that golden eye
continued staring at him with its dead gaze, still crying the endless amounts
of blood.
As the blood neared him, he
took a step back only the fall into the darkness that he had been stood on. As
he fell the laughter started, the taunting laughter that followed him wherever
he went. It was echoing loudly all around him, ringing in his ears and pounding
in his skull.
The river of blood rushed over
the edge of whatever he had fallen off to tumble down all around him until he
was surrounded by the crimson colour.
*Afraid of lies, afraid of tears.
Afraid of the chains that holds his fears. Running in darkness, nothing to
see. No one to find, not even me. He wants his past but soon he’ll find, he’ll
meet his death instead when he loses his mind!*
Nothing but that hideous
chanting and laughter in his head. Nothing but darkness and blood in front of
his eyes. Nothing but lies and death in his memory.
He knew that he was walking
further and further along the thin line between sanity and madness. Every time
he was pushed closer and closer to the edge but the voice inside him would
never let him fall completely over. That was probably what taunted him most of
all.
It would have to happen
sometime though; sooner or later whatever was in his head would get bored and
push him over. Then what? He would just go completely mad? What would happen
then? Would he die, bleed through his own eyes?
Then something happened that
had never occurred in his dream before. As the blood around him got darker, a
white light suddenly started shining from underneath him, so bright all of a sudden
that he had to shield his eyes.
Then something came up behind
him and caught him.
To be continued….
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