Domination

How fast was that? Well, not that fast but you get my drift! 2 months look at me go and my bad self! What's amazing is that I started writing this during my spring break which was the last week of april. I can't believe that I finished as fast as I did. The story is really taking off at this point, and is going to get darker and crazier from now on. Goten has had his fun and it's time to torture him, just like I do to all the characters in my stories. No more kidding around! It's time to spiral downwads into insanity (since that is the main idea behind the fic anyway)! Oh yeah, also, I hope you guys liked Jason, because he is a main character now.

Disclaimer: I do not own DB/Z/GT. They belong to Akira Toriyama. But i DO own all the OCs. Do NOT take my OC's without permission, especially Dillon. That OC is my pride and joy. All the information that Dr. Emerson describes to Gohan is true. You can find it on the same website I found it on, which will be at the botttom since I don't want to spoil the plot.

Warnings: Nice list here... -Ahem- Homosexual sex (A 3-SOME PEOPLE!!), violence, insanity, gore, mafia crime, prostitution, cannibalism, child abuse and last but definitely not least... CHARACTER DEATH!! Yes, a canon character, not an OC.

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Chapter 11: Morte

“You are in debt to me forever, Goten.”.

I didn’t realize what I had gotten myself into when Dillon spoke those words to me. All the fucked up shit that would forever scar me and change my life didn’t even come across my mind at those threateningly beautiful words. I had no clue about the violence and chaos that came with the Italian Mafia, or about the paranoia I was going to face forever. A whole new Santinni family suddenly existed once I learned their dark secret. What I had been blinded to by brilliant charm and irresistible sex suddenly reared its head up my ass. Dillon wasn’t the perfect gentleman I thought him to be. He wasn’t all around soft and loving, but more or less far from it. Now that I had this secret, Dillon was finally able to be his true self.

Dillon Santinni is still a charming man who could sway even Vegeta if he tried. His smile melted barriers and his maturity could fool anyone. And yet, there was a more dark and… sinister side to the Italian heir. He was dark and calculating to a point of cruelty. Behind that amazing smile, he was bloodthirsty for power and dominance and was willing to cut down anyone in his way. He hit his servants when they got out of line, took his anger out on any unfortunate soul who was around, and even degraded his beautiful mother with such disgust. But he had his reasons…

His violent nature spawned from his violent father who still beat his son into submission whenever he “messed up.”

Giovanni was an angry man who loved his son with his fists, leaving his marks of love in dark, twisted bruises. I had witnessed in secrecy the beating of his son when his father drank too much or the beating of Dillon’s mother when she went “out of line.” He was strict and mean, never giving Dillon a chance to explain himself when he did something wrong. It finally made sense to me that first night I stayed with the Santinni’s when Dillon kept his head down and didn’t utter a word until we were alone. I finally understood Dillon’s weird behavior to actually be a normalcy.

One night after Dillon had been hit again and again for voicing his opinion to his straight-backed father, he held me and kissed my lips, trying to find affection in any way possible. Given the circumstances of his hell, Dillon did not cry. He did not complain. Not once did he speak in any hate towards his father. Though he stood taller than the Don and was in no doubt more powerful than him, he never fought him or dared touch him. It ate at me on the inside to see that he was in more of a tortured life than I, and he never complained. “I make mistakes, knowing that I shouldn’t. You know the Santinni motto, mio amore. ‘No mercy. No remorse. No matter what.’ That rule applies to everything, not just an enemy. I made a mistake, so I must be punished.”

Though he did not voice a single word against the way he was treated, he knew he was in hell. He knew that the life he lived would be short due to his father or way of life. I knew that he knew he was destroyed on the inside and it was killing him. It only became worse because of his beautiful sister’s murder. It was why he wore black. It was why he followed the Satanic religion with fierce determination. It was one reason why he loved me. After his sister’s murder, no one in the Santinni family would ever be the same again.

“It was a cold winter night in December, two days after we met,” Dillon started the story of the killing of 7 year old Trinity, whispering in my ear while in his bed, “We returned to our home in Italy after visiting my mother’s family for Christmas. My father had taken my sister, Trinity, out for parent-child bonding at a ritzy ice cream parlor in Venice. Those were happy times, Goten. My father had never loved anyone as much as he did his princess. That girl had him wrapped around her perfect little fingers,” he laughed, the pain in his voice evident at the memory. “They were walking down the decorated streets of the city, no doubt laughing and talking of nonsense. It was a rare moment for both father and daughter. My father never went out into public without some form of guard around him, and my sister was never available for him because of her already busy schedule.

“They walked hand-in-hand, Trinity enjoying her favorite waffle cone that would put French chefs to shame. Snow fell around them and it seemed that the entire mother earth revolved around these two people who loved each other dearly. But with every tender moment, comes a time of peril. My father kisses Trinity on her rosy cheeks, speaking to her that she would inherit the world if he could give it to her. After kissing her Papa on the cheek, her eyes caught something that would forever separate them. A black car sped towards them on the street, their target caught in a vulnerable moment of love and affection.

“As my father tried to push Trinity to safety, he was attacked from an alley next to them, metal pipes beating his knees and shoulders. The little girl stood in mute fear, frozen in the open to the car that raced for her. A window rolls down and the barrel of a gun sneaks out from the darkness, aiming at the pretty princess. Before my father can utter a command for her to move or plead for her life, deadly fire streams out of the machine gun. Hundreds of bullets hit everything in sight, leaving nothing and no one safe.

“The beautiful girl is caught up in the drive-by shooting, bullets piercing her body, blood splattering against shop windows, chunks of hair and skin flying everywhere. My father can do nothing but watch his most beloved die in the gruesome manner, voicing his anger and insanity to the streets of the once sacred Venice. Just as fast as it happened, it stopped, the car speeding away with the laughter of Johnny Pirelli, the Santinni enemy, echoing in the alley…” Dillon could no longer go on with the story of his sister’s murder, his tears blinding him in the dark of his room.

When he regained his composure, he told me that he had loved his sister more than anyone in the world, just like his father. Since the time of her birth, Dillon felt that it was his responsibility as the older brother to protect the girl with everything he had. He told me he would gladly give his life for this beautiful little princess and that as they grew, they became closer than most siblings. The eldest of the 3 siblings, Giuseppe, simply did not have enough time to dedicate to the newest addition to the family, being that he was taking over the “family business” in Italy. Though Dillon and his beautiful sister were almost a decade apart, they loved each other none the less.

Dillon told me that when he learned of his sister’s murder, he had to be put away in an insane asylum for months on end to recover from the loss. He cried out his agony with the mentally disturbed and found that he could relate to the mad and lost. He learned that his suffering could not compare to those locked up in a padded room or to those who had to be electrocuted monthly to make them “normal.” Facing reality, and his sister’s death, he walked out of the crazy house bitter and vengeful, but with wisdom and an undying love for the insane. They moved from the agony of Italy to start anew in America, where his father had been building his “business” for years already. Dillon wanted to attend the public school with the boy who he fell for with just a glance.

“I hired someone to follow you around and learn your schedule. That same person hacked into the school system and learned of your classes, instantly changing mine around so it fit yours almost exactly. I needed to see you again. I needed to have you. I was determined to get you in my bed and make you mine, no matter what.” He whispered to me as he brought pleasure to my body with his hands and tongue. My paranoia heightened with the idea that someone had truly been following me, but the thought quickly subsided when a mouth replaced a hand. As I withered and moaned underneath him, my lover purred out that he loved me and would gladly die for me. With fierce thrusts he admitted that he was in love with me because of my insanity, which he knew would grow worse with time. My mind was too jumbled to form coherent thought from our lovemaking, let alone process his admittance.

When I say that fucked up shit changed my life forever, I cannot stress it enough.

One day, Dillon dragged me along with him to “take care of business” for his father. If the Italian heir wanted to take over and become the Don when his father passed away, he had to prove that he was worth the title. Even if it meant that he had to do the dirty work himself. We sat in Dillon’s dark purple Rolls Royce Phantom, the car that was “too nice to drive to school,” outside of a factory building, simply waiting. On what, he would not tell me just yet.

While waiting, he fed upon my mouth and touched my body, bringing me to sit in his lap in the driver’s seat. Gone were my thoughts of Trunks and Zoomie. This dangerous teen had plagued me and almost demanded that I only think of him. I did tell him of my relationship with Zoomie and he did listen, not showing the envy he had locked inside him. But when he touched me, he told me to think of him and only him. Like that was hard.

As I began kissing and nipping my way down his thick neck, I let my curiosity out. “What exactly does your father ‘trade’?” I asked him, biting his Adams apple hard enough to bruise. I knew he loved it when I bit him.

“Anything… everything…” he moaned and spread his legs as wide as he could in his seat to relief the pressure in his pants. I bit his neck in another spot with a purr and his breathing hitched. “If it’s illegal, we do it… Drugs, money, weapons, prostitutes…” his hands snaked down my back and he started to rub my tail scar, the pleasure blinding me.

The last word caught me off guard. “Prostitutes?” I arched my back towards him, those thick fingers moving fast on the scar, as if it were a clit on a woman.

“Yeah. ‘Human trafficking’ as it’s sometimes called. My brother likes to call them ‘Pleasure Slaves.’” He moaned again as I raked my fingers down his big muscular chest. “That is why we are here tonight. Some skanky bitch decided to be a rat.” He growled and started to undo his pants. “Baby, when we get home tonight, I want to try something new.”

Just as I was about to ask him what that could be, he stopped touching me and pushed me back into the passengers seat. I growled at the loss of pleasure my body was experiencing, but he silenced me by cupping his hand over my mouth. My glare could have cut open cement, but he was paying me no mind. “Ssssshhhhh….” He whispered and stared intently out the window.

I followed his gaze to see 6 prostitutes walking under the street lights exchanging weed between them. I was repulsed by their fowl odor that only a Saiyan could smell and their all too revealing clothes. Dillon’s car hid in the shadows of the night, so we both know they couldn’t see us as my lover accelerated towards them very slowly, the engine quite as a mouse. “Which one?” I whispered as I plugged my nose, the smell nauseating me.

“The fucking crack head with the pink hair.” He sneered, and I could smell the adrenaline rushing through his body. “Reach behind my seat and give me the black suitcase.” He ordered and I rolled my eyes, but did as he told. He slapped my ass hard in a playful manner and chuckled at the position I was in when I grabbed the suitcase. Bringing it back up, he took it from my grasp and opened it immediately. My eyes widened as he pulled out a huge Smith & Wesson revolver, its Custom German Rifle Barrel much longer than a normal gun. He looked at me with dead seriousness, cocking the gun with a sickening click. “Do not get out of this car.” He whispered harshly and ran the barrel of the gun up my neck to my ear seductively. I nodded like a good pet.

He smirked then slammed on the gas, racing to where the prostitutes were standing at. The tires tore at the pavement as he spun the car around to block the whores from running away. He then kicked open his door and pointed the huge gun at all the hookers, screaming at them in Italian. I crawled into his seat to watch the event, my blood rushing through my veins in anticipation. He grabbed the whore by her pink colored hair and yanked her around. Backhanding her across her face, he screamed in her ear and hit her several times with the barrel of the revolver. Then, just like his father, he stated the famous Santinni motto, and blew her brains out.

I covered my ears from the explosive sounds, but I did not turn away. I watched her brain splatter all over the other prostitutes and the smell of blood aroused me. I didn’t stop myself as I started to rub my erection, still hard from my activity with Dillon. My lover then pointed the gun at the other hookers and dared them to rat out his family. He stalked back to the car when the whores ran away, the scowl on his handsome face making me hot. He had blood smeared on his clothes from the impact of the shot.

His hand that held the beautiful revolver shook, but not in fear. He was excited and seemed to be in a state of high. I reached out and took the gun from him, licking away the blood from the whore. I moaned at the taste, my erection throbbing from the sensation. He watched me with hungry eyes as I put the long barrel of the revolver in my mouth and down my throat, pretending that it was something much thicker and tasty. He moaned and stroked my hair. “Gods you are so sexy, Goten…” he purred and started to undo his pants again.

I took the gun out of my throat and smirked when his cock sprang free from its confines. Like a Popsicle, I sucked on the head with obnoxious slurping noises. Dillon moaned and gripped my hair, making me bob up and down on the throbbing erection. I took the cock down my throat and purred around it, making him shiver and moan my name, while rubbing my own hard-on through my pants. He thrust his hips and forced my head to crane at a certain angle, choking me. But I didn’t care. He was rough, and I loved it. Hot cum shot down my throat as he climaxed and I came with my pants still on. Then he climbed into the car and started to drive back to his home, with my head in his lap.

When we were back at the Italian mansion in his dark bedroom, he wasted no time in driving my body insane with pleasure. He held me down by my shoulders and rammed his cock into me, making me scream and thrash under him. He bent down to my ear, never slowing his movements, and moaned out that he was going to “try something new” like he had stated earlier that night.

Still fucking me, the hands that held me by my shoulders moved to my neck. His fingers wrapped around my neck and began to squeeze hard. It didn’t take me long to realize that he was choking me. I panicked and fought to get him off of me, but he angled his hips perfectly and the euphoria was mind-shattering. The lack of air and blood to my brain only heightened the pleasure that I felt. Once I knew that he wasn’t trying to kill me, I was able to enjoy myself more. His powerful hands barely let any air into my esophagus while his dick hit my prostate over and over again. When I orgasmed, the world crashed around me in an explosion of pleasure. I had never felt nirvana like I did that night when Dillon, the Italian heir to the Mafia, performed Erotic Asphyxiation on me.

--

It seems that it had been forever since I first had sex with Dillon, but the reality was that it had truly only been 3 weeks at the most. School was a blur for me and I spent every moment I could with my lover when I was not in class. I hardly remembered the events in school, save for one special moment when Dillon beat a kid senseless for harassing me.

I had been walking with Jason down the hall to math, his personality starting to change for unknown reasons. Ever since Dillon came around, I believe that Jason is not only intimidated by his monstrous size, but I think he is jealous. While I was reflecting, one of Jason’s friends grabbed me from behind and slammed me up against a locker, taking me by surprise. Filthy words of “faggot” and “freak” were screamed into my ears. I looked over at a dumbstruck Jason, my eyes pleading with him to make his friend go away. I growled at the teen that had me against a locker, daring him to harm me. Just as he brought his fist back to hit me, a much larger hand grabbed it. Before I knew it, the kid was thrown against a wall by my hero, Dillon. He grabbed the kid by his hair and pounded his face over and over again until both his eyes were swollen and bloody. “If you dare touch him again, I will kill you.” He snarled and threw the kid aside. He then put his arm around my waist, eyed Jason up and down, and then led me to math.

“No mercy. No remorse. No matter what.”

In that same week, we were met with the biggest shocker yet. Dillon and I were standing at my locker near my brother’s class at the end of the day. Gohan bid us farewell, still wary of Dillon, like he always did. Once he was gone, Dillon began running his mouth about the dirty thoughts he had of me all day. He pushed me up against my locker and started to suck on my neck where the bruises from the “choking game” were. I snarled and demanded that he stop at once, fearing that someone would see us. Just as he pushed his knee between us to rub my crotch, a voice caught our attention. Dillon whirled around ready to beat whoever dared stop his exploration, but I stopped him when I saw that it was Jason.

“Hey mate… I’m sorry I interrupted you two…” he blushed and his eyes darted all around, not wanting to face Dillon who towered over him. “But uh… I just have something I need to tell you…” he backed away when Dillon stepped towards him with a seductive smirk and leaned down so he was nose-to-nose with the Australian boy. I felt my face heat up when I saw how agonizingly close they were to kissing.

“What is it?” I asked him, putting my backpack on. Dillon never moved from his spot, and I could tell he was enjoying every minute of Jason’s personal space.

“Uh…. W-well…” Jason started to say, but was too uncomfortable with Dillon’s position.

I rolled my eyes and yanked my lover back. He snickered and grabbed some of my books to hold for me. “Ok. What?” I asked him again getting annoyed.

He looked at his feet and blushed deeply. Sensing that this was a waste of my time, I turned and started to walk away with Dillon on my heels. “I… I want to be like you!” Jason called after me, stopping me dead in my tracks. I turned around to see him blushing still and looking at everything but me.

I walked up to him and got as close as Dillon had been earlier. “Are you mocking me?” I growled and he shivered under my gaze.

“N-no mate! I’m serious! I really want to be like you!” He stammered, but I could see truth in his golden-brown eyes.

I looked over at Dillon for help, but he was just smirking. I then took my attention back to Jason and smirked as well. “What do you mean, ‘just like you’?” I thread my finger in one of his golden locks.

“Gothic.” He stated quickly and it took me by surprise.

My Italian lover finally spoke up. “Really? Magnifico!” He exclaimed and threw an arm around the beautiful teen. “It’s about time we had another one of us, eh?” He winked at me. I rolled my eyes and started to walk away with them both following me. “Now, Jason, if you are serious about this, then these,” he pulled at Jason’s green polo shirt, “will have to go. No more colors for you, baby.”

We continued to the student parking lot where Jason’s black Mercedes sat. Dillon had planned everything out already. We would go shopping for a new wardrobe for Jason right away. Then we would all go to Dillon’s house for dinner and for Jason’s education on the dark culture. It felt good knowing that I had converted someone and that he would follow my footsteps. The taste of power was new and foreign, but I was beginning to like it.

We piled into Jason’s car and went to the nearest mall for a shopping spree. At first I doubted Jason’s seriousness in wanting to be part of the Goth community, but the more time we spent making him buy this or that, the more convinced I was. He lit up whenever he got the approval of Dillon or me, and even independently chose what fit him best. He seemed to have a fascination with horror movies, thus earning himself a new name from Dillon.

“Voorhees.” It rolled off Dillon’s tongue perfectly with his accent. I repeated it, and liked how it sounded. Jason, now known as Voorhees, was thrilled with it.

After 4 hours of shopping and getting thrown out of a store for “sexual conduct in the men’s room,” we 3 went to Dillon’s home. Voorhees was too embarrassed to look us in the face after being caught with Dillon in a changing stall, my frisky lover having him up against a mirror from behind, caressing his bum and chest. I was too terribly turned on by the sight to think of getting upset. Besides… Dillon wasn’t my “boyfriend.” I found it rather hot seeing Dillon with another man. Then again, I found it hot period to see a man with another man.

While Dillon educated Voorhees on the importance and followings of the Gothic culture, I talked on the phone with my mother. She was very upset that I never came home anymore and that when I did, I would come in around 1 in the morning. I argued with her for 10 minutes over the fact that I was staying with a friend who she could trust, but she twisted my words and beat me down because I was “staying with a faggot because I was a whore.” Her words hurt me more than the physical harm of a ki blast. In my quick forming insanity, my mind flashed images of how to get rid of her without a trace of evidence. With the help of Dillon, it was entirely possible now…

My lover snapped me out of my daze with a small kiss, taking the phone out of my hand. “La sono ok?” he spoke to me in Italian, trying to teach me the language. I nodded and he smiled although he knew I was lying. It would be an issue we would later discuss when Voorhees wasn’t around.

Speaking of which, we both turned our heads to watch Voorhees undress for bed. His bronze body flexed in motion when he took his shirt off and as his pants slid down, we discovered a pierced navel and an adorable nature trail leading into his boxers. I glanced at Dillon to see him with his mouth slack and hunger in his eyes. I blushed and went back to drooling over the boy, not feeling bad for desiring another or for Dillon lusting for someone other than me. Our relationship was odd like that.

Voorhees must have felt our eyes burning into his skin because he turned around fast and covered himself with his bundle of clothes. He had been jumpy all day when we were with him, especially around a horny Dillon. He had told him that he was straight and had no interest in guys at all. Taking it as a challenge, Dillon decided to prove him wrong. He would make the boy desire men with his own doing. Hence why they were thrown out of the store for the changing room scene…

“A-are you sure I can stay the night, mate?” Voorhees asked Dillon breathlessly, either uncomfortable or turned on by our stares.

“Of course, baby. I promise we aren’t going to hurt you.” I watched him give his lady-killer smirk to the golden boy. Voorhees gulped and blushed again, deciding that he would stay.

We weren’t going to hurt him. Not at all. What we did have planned was far from any sort of pain. With just a look, both Dillon and I formulated a plan that would change the boy’s life. Crawling into Dillon’s monstrous bed, the 3 of us said our goodnights, having plenty of room not to be laying on one another. Sleep came to me almost immediately as I wrapped my arms around Dillon and purred. It would soon be time to go through with our plan, and we would need plenty of rest for it.

--

-Voorhees’s POV-

I had been utterly surprised when Goten took me under his wing as fast as he did. We weren’t exactly what you would define “friend” as, but we knew each other well enough. I am almost willing to bet that if Dillon hadn’t been around, Goten would have surely blown me off. It was true that I wanted to be like him, but not entirely in a Gothic sense. He was powerful and cruel, kicking ass now and getting names later. He was the complete opposite of me, and I craved what I wasn’t. I didn’t like who I was or who I associated myself with. I had been raised to accept anyone and everyone for who they are in Australia. Then once I moved to America, it was too different. Everyone hated anyone who was different and made sure to express that hate with physical harm. It wasn’t what I wanted, but I got wrapped up in the popularity and culture of the country.

When I first met Goten, I was immediately drawn to him. His dark nature and vicious attitude excited me and made me want to know him. He was so different from anyone I met. Even though Trunks literally beat the demand that I not speak to Goten into me, I couldn’t help it. I wanted to be near him and get inside his head. I wanted to know what made him tick. I especially wanted to get close to Goten so I could get closer to his brother, Gohan, my handsome teacher and tutor. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not gay but… I just… have a need to be around Mr. Gohan.

I stirred in my sleep after hearing strange sounds next to me. Fluttering my eyes open, the noises ended up being much more than strange. I heard audible moans and gasps coming from behind me and couldn’t help but blush. Dillon and Goten were doing something with one another, and I felt that I shouldn’t be around for this moment between them. I closed my eyes tightly to force myself back to sleep, but Goten’s passionate cries had me wide awake. When a hand smacked the bed next to my head, I shot up and turned to face them. My breath stopped and heat rushed to my face.

Dillon had Goten pinned under him, sucking on his neck and rubbing his crotch with his large hands. I wanted to tear my eyes away but I just… couldn’t. Goten kept his eyes closed and groaned while Dillon bit his neck. He had his hands in Goten’s pants and I knew what he was doing by the motions of his arm. Goten arched his back and cried out Dillon’s name as the larger man slid his pants off and invaded him with a finger. Goten’s cock pulsed and leaked precum when Dillon licked his way down between his legs. The Italian put his tongue in places I thought forbidden and I honestly thought I was seeing things. But there he was, salad tossing Goten, making the boy moan and weep in pleasure.

The sight baffled me and made me hot. I felt suffocated and realized that I was sporting a throbbing erection, shocked at my current state. When I reached for a pillow to cover myself, Dillon grabbed me by the hand. I stared at him through hazy eyes and shivered under the intense, sexual stare. “Well, well… what do we have here?” his husky voice made my hard-on even worse. Goten looked at me with glazed eyes and smirked as well.

I should not be turned on like this!

Dillon dragged me across the bed and tossed me onto my back. Before I could lift up, Goten grabbed me by the shoulders from behind and Dillon straddled my hips, placing my legs under his knees. I was trapped. Both of them looked at me with deadly smirks and then to each other, as if they were communicating to each other in their heads. Finally, Dillon spoke to me. “Did you like what I was doing to Goten?” He asked and traced my chest with his fingers.

“N-no!” I didn’t sound very convincing.

“Oh, but I think you did.” He grinned and pointed at my pulsing cock, while trailing his other finger down my chest to trace my abs. He flicked my navel piercing and traced a circle around my belly button, giving me a chill. “I think you really enjoyed what I was doing. Don’t you think so, Goten?” His finger started to trace my nature trail down to my patch of hair.

“I do.” I heard Goten growl and watched as he bent down to nibble on my bottom lip.

“Uuuhhh….” I let a moan escape when Dillon began to suck on the sensitive area below my ear. I felt his huge dick rub my inner thigh near my anus. Goten held the sides of my face and began to lick my bottom lip, pulling another moan from me. Finally, I opened my mouth and started to kiss Goten, no longer fighting the sexual desire in my being. His tongue plundered into my mouth as he kissed me upside down, moaning with me. I reached up and grabbed the back of his head to keep our mouths close as possible, teeth clashing and tongues battling. My back arched off the bed and I felt teeth nibble on the inside of my thigh from Dillon.

No girl had ever made me feel this way.

I stopped kissing Goten when suddenly a wet mouth started sucking on the head of my dick. Reality came back to me and it was a bitch. “S-stop! No! Dillon stop!” I begged trying to get him off of me, but he sucked harder. Goten grabbed my shoulders and held me down with unreal strength and started kissing me again. It was too much to try and fight them. The stimulation drove me crazy and I began to buck my hips up, offering myself to Dillon. I heard him chuckle right before he took my entire length down his throat and sucked me to climax.

Not before long, Dillon had positioned us all in a certain way on his bed. My back faced his chest while Goten--beautiful, sexy, Goten-- faced me. “I told you I could make you like boys.” Dillon whispered in my ear as his fingers invaded my body. I squirmed at the feeling and let my tears fall, only to have them kissed away by a very pleasure-high Goten. He hovered above my dick and teased it by rubbing his entrance on it. A pleading whine came out of my mouth at the teasing and Dillon chuckled. “You want him, don’t you Voorhees?” He whispered and nibbled my ear, using 3 fingers to invade me.

“N-no!” I tried to sound grossed out. I tried to get away from them. But actions speak louder than words, and my erection told a whole story. “Uhhh… A-aaahH!!” I cried out when Dillon rubbed something inside of me, making me see the stars. Over and over again he rubbed that spot, causing me to cry out every time. I felt my precum dribble onto the bed and I knew that my second orgasm would soon follow. I begged and begged for release, pleading for the torturous pleasure to end. I wanted to climax, to feel that euphoria, to knock myself out in the after shock.

Dillon removed his fingers and lifted my entire body off the bed. He then slammed me back down on his cock, fire ripping up my backside. I screamed in pain, tears of agony streaming down my face. He pumped his cock in and out of me, moaning in my ear that it would get better. Then, before I knew it, Goten gripped my shoulders and brought himself down on my own rigid member. He moved up and down and gasped my name. The thought of fucking while being fucked overwhelmed me. Dillon found that angle to hit me at and I was no longer on earth. Images of these handsome teens flashed across my mind, and then so did Mr. Gohan’s. His was my undoing. During my orgasm, I accepted the one thing that I kept buried deep inside of me for over 3 years.

I liked boys.

--

-Goten’s POV-

Almost 4 months had come and gone since school started, and Voorhees had become a permanent member of my small group. After the 3some, a week would have to pass before he openly expressed his attraction to guys in school. He needed constant “reminders” of his sexuality from either Dillon or I, coming up with any excuse to get into our beds. He came out of the closet to the school with confidence since Dillon was there to protect him, even if it was just halfway. He was still attracted to girls and considered himself Bi until he found common ground.

He was threatened and harassed everyday like me, death notes and all, for being a “faggot.” Then he was constantly picked on for being a “gothic freak.” There were times where he was ready to call it quits and return to his old popular self and tell everyone it had been a sick joke. But Dillon kept him in line, and Voorhees was too infatuated with my Italian lover to betray him.

Though the Australian boy was both mine and Dillon’s friend and he was equally attracted to us, there was no doubt in my mind over his obsession with the Santinni. He was attached to the man’s hip and did whatever Dillon requested. Dillon joked with me that Voorhees had become his “personal assistant,” but he took it very seriously when it came right down to it. Dillon was a leader, and Voorhees was his obsessed follower.

I had rarely seen Trunks around the school because of my constant absence with Dillon, but when word spread to him that the VIP Receiver of the Orange Star High Football Team was a “faggot,” we could never get rid of him. He stalked us as if we were prey, waiting for the perfect moment to get his hands on the Australian kid to beat the life out of him. But with Dillon around, Trunks would never get his chance. For some reason, the purple-haired Prince was terrified of Dillon, and Dillon never wasted any time in rubbing it in his face.

So instead, Trunks came after me.

Just like the day in middle school, he tackled me to the ground outside and began to beat my face in. Dillon wasn’t around to protect me because I was staying with my dad for the weekend. Bone crushed bone and blood began to splatter onto the grass as he began deforming my face. A ring on his middle finger cut open my eyelid, to the corner of my eye, then all the way to the middle of my cheek. Red blood stained my shirt and clumped in my hair as he broke my nose in several places, giving me no mercy for the things I had done. He knocked out several of my teeth as he screamed “Fucking faggot!” in my ears. He got up and kicked my head again and again and again, blood smearing his crisp white shoes from the wound. Just when I thought that he was about to kill me, he was attacked from behind by my beautiful brother.

--

Trunks spent several days in the Medical Ward of Capsule Corp from the damage Gohan caused and I sat in my own hospital room waiting for senzu beans from Korin. Gohan paced around by my door, daring anyone to come in and harm his little brother. He let no one but a single doctor come in to check on me, not even my own father. His brown tail snapped back and forth behind him in anger, but I could see the helplessness on his face. My first night in the hospital, he laid his head on my bed and cried quietly in despair for me. “I’m so sorry I can’t protect you like I used to anymore, Goten…” he would sob and kiss my hand.

Instead of paying attention to him, I sat up in my bed and stared ahead, my eyes darting everywhere. My mind blurred all my thoughts together and random things started to stream out of my mouth without my control. I didn’t notice that Gohan was staring at me in confused fear at the grotesque words and sentences that spilled out of my mouth. I didn’t know what I was saying. I don’t think I was even thinking.

My brother continued to look at me and I swear I saw something dance in the dark abyss of his pupil. It scared me. ‘I can’t believe that Gohan wants to hurt you!’ a voice cried out. Those dark monsters in everyone eyes constantly mock me and abuse me, all sounding like that damned purple-haired Prince! I have to get away! I am blubbering out my incoherent thoughts and flailing my arms around like a madman. Mad and paranoid, like Ommato….

Yes, that’s what I, Ommato, am. I am mad! Crazy, crazy, crazy! UHhhhh everyone is out to get me so I must stay on my toes and be afraid of everything! I will protect the Master because he needs it because he loves us because he must! AHahaa! Ommato lives!!

The demon reaches out for me and cries out a terrible roar and I begin to scream. “Stay away! He’s coming! He’s coming! AAhhh when he comes you have to grab him! You have to! I-I-I-I want… Ommato want… AIEEEEEEE!!” I begin to emit a high pitched whine, making the demon back away and cover his ears. Yes! It’s working! I stand up in my bed and jump around in excitement. I was defeating the demon! I was winning! “Gohan don’t you see?! Can’t you see him?! He is hiding! He says that he is going to eat me, but I know better! Ommato don’t like! You have to! You have to! AIEEEEE!! Ahahahaaa!” I laugh and laugh and jump around.

As I jump, my foot slips off the bed and I start to fall to the dark ocean beneath me, mortified at the defeat I was facing suddenly. I look behind me to see the demon reach for me and grab me. Then more! More demons come! They hold needles and restraints and have terrible, terrible faces. “NOO! NO it’s not supposed to be like this! You have to! Don’t you see him Gohan?! Why are you letting him do this?! AAggghhhhh he is coming for me! AAIEEEE!!” I moan out and the whine turns into a high-pitched cry, piercing the demons ears. The demons wrestle me to the ground and I roar out at them. I hope to scare them. ‘Scare them!’ Several sharp pains rip up my arm and it is the terrible needle like tongues of the demons cutting into my skin, making me bleed, killing me!!

I feel tired… Something is rushing in my body and I am terrified. ‘It’s the poison… the poison from the demon’s terrible tongue bite… They are killing me… I’m dying… Dying…’

--

-Gohan’s POV-

I am too shocked to move, too mortified to utter a single word. I had never seen anything so bizarre and utterly terrifying as my little brother’s sudden panic and lunacy. When Goten began to spew out terrible death threats and awkward growl-sounding words earlier, I had tried to place my hand on his shoulder to calm him and shake him out of his state. But he freaked out and screamed at me things about demons, pointing fingers at me and yanking his hair out in distress. I pushed the emergency button near his bed as he was jumping up and down on the hospital bed to get a doctor in immediately.

Right as Goten lost his footing, several doctors came in and I caught him before he hit his head on the metal medical cart near the bed. I had to help fight Goten to the ground as the doctors grabbed restraints and needles of sedatives, his high pitched, animal like cries hurting my ears. He constantly spat out “demons” and screamed for my help. My heart crumbled at my feet as one doctor screamed into the hall, “Mental patient is having a psychotic episode!” and grabbed a larger syringe full of numbing medication. I choked out a sob as they stabbed my baby brother’s arm and pushed the medication into his bloodstream. When he stopped fighting, I took him in my arms and embraced him. I wouldn’t stop my crying when Goten let out a breath whispering the words “They are killing me…” and passed out.

--

-Goten’s POV-

I lie in the golden grass near the blood-filled lake, warm air passing over me. I felt so safe here in this awful smelling area. It was as if I raced to get to this place when the horror of the real world tried to take me and harm me. My mind drifted in and out and I wondered about Ommato, my paranoia, who I left to endure the demons above. My dreams were much nicer than reality. I wish I could stay in this golden country forever and forget about the cold and cruel place in which I must live. I looked up at the red sky and golden clouds start to form a handsome face. I smile when I see the beautiful face of Dillon smiling down at me, a soft image in the sky. Heh, this really is what you call day dreaming.

--

-Gohan’s POV-

I tried to absorb everything that the doctor was telling me as we looked at x-rays of Goten’s brain. He scratched his white head and sighed. The old man seemed tired; like his entire life was filled with excitement and now in his old age he was ready to just call it quits. I admired him for dealing with patients so late in his years and held him with high respect.

I met Dr. Emerson the first time Goten ended up in the hospital during the summer, when he was having night terrors, before he started high school. This was the same doctor that diagnosed Goten with Extreme Paranoia and Clinical Depression. He put Goten under the “mentally unstable” files in the hospital and my little brother was forever marked as insane. Goten didn’t know his hospital records. Neither did our father or mother. When I moved out of the house, I went to the hospital to get Goten on my health insurance and off of our parents. It took an arm and a leg and a lie to get them to accept my request and change it. As far as hospitals knew, both my parents were dead.

The doctor pointed out the damage in Goten’s brain and explained that unfortunately, it would affect my brother’s mental capacity even more. “Now, he won’t become incompetent. It’s just his mental stability will be delicate.” I knew that Dr. Emerson was trying to sugar coat his diagnosis of my baby brother, but I knew better. He was pretty much telling me that Goten was getting worse.

--

-Dillon’s POV-

I was tearing down the streets of West City with Voorhees in the passenger’s seat desperately trying to get to the medical ward of Capsule Corporation. My Goten had been missing for over 3 days and I hadn’t heard from him since the weekend. I feared the worst for the boy I loved and couldn’t stop the tears from forming in my eyes. If I lose him… I am not sure what I would do. Losing my sister was bad enough.

I had only found out about Goten through rumors at the school. There had been talk that that bastard Trunks was going to “teach the faggot a lesson” when he came to stay with him. I grabbed one of Trunks’ friends and slammed him up against a locker, demanding that he tell me everything he knew if he enjoyed life. Leave it to violence and death threats to get what you want.

“Trunks is going to tear his ass up on Saturday for turning Voorhees gay.”

Then another of his friends whom I got my hands on told me that it had happened and that one of them was in the hospital. Once hearing that, I ran off with said Voorhees to his car.

I burst through the doors of the Medical Ward, forgetting about Voorhees, to get to my beautiful Goten. Crying out that I wanted to see him, a nurse finally led me down a hall to where not only Goten lie, but Trunks too. I told the fragile nurse that I would find Goten on my own and she sent me on my way. Walking down the hall, I peeked in to each room until I found a purple-haired bastard lying in a bed with tubes and wires connected to him. “Good, my boy got a few hits in.” I grinned in pride and strolled into the room.

“AH! Mate, what are you doin?!” Voorhees called after me, but didn’t follow me into the room.

“No mercy. No remorse. No matter what…” I whispered harshly and pulled the plug to a machine out of the wall. A siren started to go off and I casually walked out with Voorhees clinging to my arm.

“Are you crazy?!” The smaller boy yelled at me, and I simply smirked at him.

--

-Gohan’s POV-

“He’s still unconscious, but at least it is in a controlled state. We can watch him more closely now that he is under my care.” Dr. Emerson told me with a tired smile and a weak pat on the back. Both of us stood at the door to Goten’s hospital room. “No worries, son. I will give him a psychiatric examination when he wakes up so we can further diagnose him. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a lunch appointment with a man who thinks silverware talks to him.” He placed a black hat on his head, and slowly made his way out of the door.

I smiled to myself and walked back into Goten’s room with a heavy sigh. I gently stroked his thick bangs out of his closed eyes, saying a small prayer for his recovery. He had quite a long road ahead of him, and I could only hope that it was smooth. A noise by the door caught my attention and I turned to see Goten’s “friend” come into the room. The look of stress and worry was written all over his face and I felt somewhat happy that someone other than me worried for him.

He didn’t speak. It seemed as though he couldn’t form words when he looked at my little brother. This Dillon Santinni seemed to shrink in size as his world collapsed around him in an instant as he stared at Goten. He no longer seemed as monstrous and intimidating as he normally did, and now I felt that I could relax around him. I could tell that he needed any sort of reassurance that the boy we both loved so much was alright. I smiled and put an arm around the tall Italian boy, leading him to Goten’s bed. Even with my Saiyan strength, he still felt like a concrete building as I moved him along, those rock hard muscles making him weigh a ton.

“He is just unconscious right now, so no need to worry. He did freak out quite a bit when he first woke up, so they had to sedate him.” I took my arm away and let him bend down to kiss my little brother’s forehead. “I’m… not sure when he will be awake, but when he does get up, I will let you know… ” I rubbed the back of my neck, that terrible habit I picked up from my father when I got nervous the reason for it.

“I would like to stay here until he wakes.” Dillon whispered, more of a demand than a request. He pulled a chair over next to Goten’s bed and sat down, holding the demi-Saiyan’s hand.

I nodded and decided to let him be alone with my baby brother, trusting the foreign teen. As I walked to the door, I stopped slightly as my student Jason poked his head in. His golden eyes shot up to meet mine and we locked eyes awkwardly. I blinked several times as a deep blush spread across his nose and he began to giggle nervously. Then he jerked away and quickly walked down the hall to the bathrooms. I chuckled quietly and looked over my shoulder at my brother one last time. The sight warmed my heart. Dillon was resting his face in the crook of Goten’s neck and lightly stroked his chest like a lover, whispering to him, “I will always protect you, mio bella…”

I could only hope he wasn’t lying.

--

-Goten’s POV-

The Dillon in the sky had become lifelike and was now making love to me in this field of gold. I shivered and moaned beneath him as he moved in and out of me, making me feel so much pleasure. I gripped his shoulders and held on for dear life as he moved faster. Harder. I moaned his name over and over again and found myself biting his neck in desperate, carnal need. I drank the blood that spilled from his wound and he didn’t hesitate in biting me back just as hard and animal-like.

A sudden smell of his masculine cologne filled my nose from all over the place, as if he were really there. I paid it no mind though as he began to chant my name, his beautiful voice deep with lust. Tears spilled from my eyes because I had never felt so loved in all my life. Why in that moment it happened, I may never understand.

“Oh Dillon…”

--

-Dillon’s POV-

I shot up immediately as Goten mumbled my name. How long had it been since I simply laid there, listening to his slow heartbeat? When I searched his beaten face with my eyes, I felt a string of hope. His eyelids began to move as if he were about to wake and I felt his muscles twitch under my fingers. “That’s it, baby. Wake up.” I cooed and kissed those same eyelids, trying not to get too excited and hyper.

I glanced over at the door to see Voorhees walk in, face flushed in a very familiar look. I smiled in amusement, quickly making up my mind to tease him a little. “You know Voorhees, Mr. Gohan is bound to find out your attraction to him. Especially if you make it a habit of running to the bathroom to jerk off whenever you two bump into each other.” He blushed furiously and shot me a glare, obviously not finding me very funny. It was true though. Voorhees had had a crush on Goten’s brother since day one. And now that he was accepting in his sexual orientation, that crush had turned into full fledged desire for his teacher. The poor boy couldn’t be near Mr. Gohan very long without getting a hard-on. It was a curse.

“Is he awake?” Voorhees asked me, totally bringing me back to reality.

“Well…” I looked down at my young lover to see that his eyelids were still moving, but he was showing no signs of waking very soon. “I’m not sure… He is moving around and mumbled earlier, but I can’t make any promises.” I shrugged. Voorhees nodded and reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

“I’m going to get a snack… Want anything, mate?” He asked, pulling out a dollar bill.

I shook my head and didn’t bother to watch him leave. I ran my fingers through Goten’s thick hair and called out his name, hoping to wake him gently. I leaned down and gave him a kiss on those lips that I love to taste, making him groan sleepily. Sitting up, I smiled as wide as I could as his eyes began to flutter open. “Mio Bella…”

--

-Goten’s POV-

I opened my eyes lazily to see Dillon smiling down at me. Though my world was bright and spinning, I could make out his handsome face. “Dill…?” I managed to rasp out, my instincts telling me that I needed water as soon as possible. I felt myself get propped up against strong arms and kissed. I blinked several times and finally regained my vision, squinting at the bright lights of the hospital room. I groaned and snuggled my face into Dillon’s neck, inhaling his wonderful scent.

“Baby… are you ok? What happened with you and Trunks?” He asked me, cradling me protectively.

“T-Trunksss…. Bastard…” I managed to moan and felt my eye twitch. “Dillon…” I whispered and my mind raced with paranoid thoughts. “You let this happen…”

--

-Dillon’s POV-

I froze at Goten’s harsh words, the meaning cutting me in half. He was right and the realization was too much to bear. I had promised him one night while loving him under the covers that I would always protect him, that I would give my life for him. It was the same night that I told him I loved him more than anyone will ever love him. I knew he didn’t believe me, but I didn’t think he would throw it back in my face as harsh as he did. It pained me to know that our trust was broken with those 4 words.

I pulled him away from my neck and stared at him, trying hard to mask the hurt I was feeling. “Goten baby… I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t--”

“Exactly! You didn’t!” Goten growled at me and pushed me away, breaking my heart. “You promised me, Dillon! They told me not to listen to you, but I loved you enough to do it! They are always right… I should have listened to them!” he groaned and grabbed his hair, yanking slightly in agony.

“They? Who’s they?” I asked, ready to blow away the bastards who dared turn my Goten away from me.

“I can’t tell you who they is! They would punish me for uttering a word of their presence!” His eyes were wild and darting everywhere. I didn’t want to admit to it, but it reminded me of the people in the insane asylum I was put into in Italy.

I sat silent for a moment, remembering how I dealt with the insane back in Italy. They were hypersensitive and extremely unpredictable, always keeping me on my toes. I spent enough time locked away that I knew how to handle one, but the shock of said insane person being my lover paralyzed me. I looked into his crazed eyes and felt hopeless, knowing that in any second, he could snap. When I went to speak, Voorhees walked into the room.

“Mate! You’re awake!” he cheered and went to embrace him.

I couldn’t grab the boy fast enough as Goten took him by the neck and slung him across the room. The Australian crashed into medicine cabinets with a terrible thud. I watched him try to lift up with a moan, not realizing the mistake of turning my attention away from Goten. My lover dug his sharp nails into my shoulder and dragged me across his bed onto the other side of the floor. “You’re both out to get me, always out to get me!” he started wailing, tearing off the plugs and IVs from his body. I staggered to my feet holding my bleeding shoulder, begging for Goten to calm down and talk to me.

He began to scream in a high-pitched tone, piercing my ears. “It’s your fault! You let that demon hurt me! Hurt us!” he stomped towards me, his eyes flaming in rage and lunacy.

Instead of cowering, I scowled and charged at him as well. He brought his fist back and swung it forward, but I dodged the hit milliseconds before it took my head off. I knew his strength. I knew all about his race and that he wasn’t human. What he didn’t know, was that it didn’t scare me. After I dodged the hit, I swooped down under him and knocked him off his feet. As he fell to the ground, I tackled him from behind and, by instinct, drew out my revolver from my pant leg and placed it against the side of his head. “I don’t want to hurt you!” I yelled and pointed the gun in between his eyes. I wasn’t going to shoot him. Ever. But I needed to be in control. I needed to dominate over him so he wouldn’t harm anyone else.

He obviously got the message and stopped screaming and kicking, betrayal written on his face. When I felt that it was safe, I placed the gun back in its holster and just held him. He was shaking as if he were in ice and crying. He shook his head violently and then looked up at me, the crazed expression now gone from his façade. “D-Dillon…” he whispered and choked out a sob, “What’s wrong with me?” he asked and then began to bawl in my arms.

--

Paranoid Schizophrenia.

It was a hard thought to chew on… Impossible to comprehend… The words that were coming out of the old doctor’s mouth… paralyzed me.

“Now, there is currently no physical or lab test that can absolutely diagnose schizophrenia - a psychiatrist, such as myself, usually comes to the diagnosis based on clinical symptoms. People diagnosed with schizophrenia usually experience a combination ofpositive,negative, andcognitive symptoms and unfortunately, Goten shows them all.His hallucinations and delusions are a large sign of his lunacy.”

Goten’s brother, Gohan, and I sat in a large, comfortable office with Dr. Emerson. He had just completed a psychiatric test with Goten and finally found the perfect diagnosis for his behavior.

“The first step in getting treatment for schizophrenia is getting a correct diagnosis. This is important to do quickly because research has shown that the sooner you get diagnosed and treated, the better the long-term outcome. This can be a more difficult than it might seem, because the symptoms of schizophrenia can be similar at times to other major brain disorders, such as bipolar disorder or even major depression. Another issue is that a person with schizophrenia may be paranoid, like our dear Goten, or believe that nothing is wrong with them, and therefore may not want to go to see a doctor.”

I looked at Gohan, and Gohan looked at his feet. Dr. Emerson shifted around and dug through some papers in a file next to his desk. “But see a doctor, he must. And unfortunately, that doctor is not me.” He went through a few more files and then pulled out a folder with papers in it. Gohan finally snapped his attention to the doctor with the statement.

“What?!” he yelled, standing on his feet.

“Goten needs a special doctor who focuses on schizophrenia and ONLY schizophrenia. I shouldn’t even be the one to be giving him help since my practice is based solely on Bipolar Disorder. This psychiatrist though, she is good. Very good.” He smiled and handed Gohan the folder.

A slight noise caught our attention as Voorhees opened the door in an arm sling, smiling that brilliant smile even though his athletic career was over with this school year. “How’s your arm?” I got up and kissed him on both cheeks like all the Europeans did.

“I’ve broken my arm before, mate. It’s alright. It’s just that, I never thought it would break again like this.” He moved his broken arm slightly, and then winced. But he still smiled and it warmed my heart.

“Goten he… he just freaked out. He’s not--” I looked over at Gohan and Dr. Emerson, and they nodded. I looked back at Voorhees and smiled sadly. “He’s not right in the head, Voorhees. The gears up there don’t function like ours do. What I am about to tell you… it cannot leave this office.” I felt like I was talking to a child, but Voorhees tilted his head and nodded, understanding it fine. “Goten he’s… he’s schizophrenic.”

His smile faded, and the tears swelled. Voorhees peered over my shoulder to find approval from the others. He then choked out a loud sob and fell into my arms, crying.

--

-Goten’s POV-

“You want me to see a shrink because I have a bad attitude?” I spoke dully at my family and Dillon. My father and his friends were here, along with Vegeta and Trunks.

“Yes. It’s what Dr. Emerson suggested you do, so you can get better.” Gohan smiled at me and I scoffed.

“Suggested being the key word there. I don’t need to get better; I just need to get away from him!” I yelled and pointed a finger at Trunks who was walking out of the hospital with a limp. I glanced at Dillon to see him just bowing his head. I knew I hurt him, and I meant every minute of it.

“Goten please…” My father walked towards me suddenly with his arms out, and I panicked.

Before I knew it, I was hiding behind my Italian lover with the shakes. ‘That was close!’ He grabbed my hand and squeezed it, reassuring me that he was there, and would always be there. My father sighed, defeated and hurt, and sulked away towards Vegeta. Vegeta looked at me and shook his head. I glared at them all and dragged Dillon away with me to the other exit. We met up with Voorhees at his car and got in. The ride to my home was silent and awkward. They knew something I didn’t, and it was making me nervous.

--

-Dillon’s POV-

I could feel Goten’s eyes on me, searching me for something. If he were to have another “episode” right now, we all could be in danger. And not just because of Voorhees’s bad driving…

“Oh Goten!” I flashed a smile that always managed to make him squirm in his seat. I fished in my pocket and pulled out a bottle of little purple pills. I shook them to keep his attention and he quirked his head. I got super close to his ear and simply whispered. “Remember, every time you start to feel panicked or paranoid, take two of these.” I kissed his ear and handed him the pills. He arched an eyebrow at me, but put the pills in his pocket.

We turned onto a dirt road, making the car shake and bounce. The dread in Goten’s face came flooding to his features and I felt a pang of rage. Not towards him, but to the woman making him fear. I hated his mother with such a passion that even I was afraid of what I might do. Trunks isn’t the only one who made Goten lose his mind.

Goten began shaking and snuggled into my arms. I shot a quick glance at Voorhees who was watching us from up front and he turned away. I then lifted Goten’s chin and kissed him softly. He sighed into the kiss and held me. “Please… don’t make me go in there…” he whispered into my neck and I just wanted to steal him and keep him with me forever. But my parents wouldn’t allow it, his mother wouldn’t allow it, and I wouldn’t allow it.

“It’s ok, mio bella. You will be fine. You know that if you need me, call me. For anything.” I slipped my tongue inside his mouth and he immediately reacted, rubbing his smaller body against mine. Instead of leaving it at that, he put his arms around my neck and pulled me down to where he was lying back on the seat and I was straddling him. “Goten… we can’t…” I whispered, noticing that Voorhees was watching again, but this time turned on.

“Seriously, mates. Does this have to happen now?” he whined and never took his eyes away from us, no doubt his pants getting tighter as he spoke.

“Yes, we do.” Goten rasped out and wrapped his legs around me. I couldn’t help the fact that he turned me on so much. Even though I constantly seduced him, he truly had no idea that he was the one seducing me. I felt lightheaded around him and always aroused. I just never showed it.

But the thought of fucking Goten in front of his home with his mother waiting was too much of a turnoff than it was exciting. I pulled away from my lover and smiled down at him, shaking my head. “Some other time, I promise you.” I pulled him up and kissed him one more time before letting him out of the car.

I walked up to the screen door with him holding his hand, and I could feel his pulse race under my fingers. “Don’t forget what I told you about the pills, Goten.” I reminded him and stroked my hand through his thick black hair that was starting to grow past his shoulders and down his back. I bent down to his ear and whispered one last reassurance. “I will always be here for you. No matter the circumstances or time of day. Do not ever hesitate to get a hold of me when you need me.”

And with that, I kissed him goodbye and got back in the car where Jason was waiting. I looked over my shoulder to see him wave goodbye with a heart breaking smile, only to have his mother slam the door open and demand he get inside. It took all my will power in the world not to blow her brains out all over the porch.

--

-Goten’s POV-

‘She won’t stop hurting us! Why are you letting her hurt us!?’

During one point in the night, my mother grabbed me by my hair, grabbed a belt and brought it across my face. I was being punished for my being with Dillon and being, of course, a faggot. I was in too much shock to even fight her off or scare her away as she whipped the belt across my face again and again. I had finally healed from the beating from Trunks, but old cuts began to open. Blood was starting to get in my eyes and I couldn’t see.

‘What are you doing!? Why won’t you stop her?!’

I still let her abuse me as she dragged me across the room into the small kitchen. With strength I didn’t know she possessed, she smashed my face in a plate of food that seemed to be sitting there for hours. “You never come home, so food should mean nothing to you!” she screamed and rubbed my face into potatoes and gravy, the nasty stuff getting up my nose and choking me. When she yanked me away, she made sure to throw me against the little fridge we had. I forget that at one point in her life, my mother used to be a very powerful woman and martial arts genius.

‘Stop it! Stop it! She is destroying you! Stop her now!’

I had thought that she was done hurting me in anger, but I was wrong. When I tried to walk by her, she kicked me in the knees from behind, making me get on all fours. “That’s right! Bend over like a dog so those nasty men can fuck you!” She screamed and then began laughing, reminding me of another fact; she had gone off her rocker once dad left us.

They say insanity runs in the family…

She let me crawl back to my pathetic room that I sometimes occupied, still laughing. When I looked around, I saw that all my stuff had been trashed and ruined. The posters I had collected from Dillon were torn to shreds, the books he let me keep had been burned, the pictures of my beautiful Italian lover had black marker blotching out his face, my computer screen was smashed, and my bed had a huge hole in it. What hurt me worst of all was my stuffed tiger, Simba, was in pieces and the picture of Zoomie was burned through in the middle. I couldn’t breath. My heart had literally stopped. The gut-wrenching pain formed acid in my stomach and heat swirled in my brain.

‘KILL HER!!’

It was then that I just… snapped.

--

Notes from Dr. Emerson

When dealing with the insane, one always wants to figure out what it is that makes them tick. Why are they so messed up? What was it that causes a perfectly good person “snap”? I started a study on a deeply disturbed boy who I fear will only get worse as time goes on. He keeps a lot of rage inside of him and when he finally blows up, anyone in his way is in danger.

--

She didn’t see it coming. I crawled around the house with lightning speed, scaring her. Her fear, the sickeningly good smell of acidic fear, drove me. I was like an animal. A hunter. And she was the prey. I chased her around the house with a grin that could make Vegeta shiver, laughing like a maniac. I told that bitch that one day, one day she would pay. Pay for everything! I pounced on her from behind and immediately began biting whatever I caught in my teeth.

--

Notes from Dr. Emerson

I think what I fear most with this boy is that when he does finally snap, something terrible will happen. I think that someone will lose their life. I really do. He is a violent boy who is in need of serious help, and no one will make the effort to save him from himself. I am attached to this boy because he intrigues me so much, and I would hate to see him get carted away on a bed with restraints and be locked up for the rest of his life. If he doesn’t get the help that he needs soon, someone is going to die.

--

She screamed and bucked beneath me as I sunk my teeth into her cheek and tore out a hole, blood splattering my face. I chewed the meat in my mouth and swallowed, getting another horrified shriek from the woman. Her hands flew up to push me off and away, but instead I grabbed her left wrist and snapped it as if it were celery. I then took the other and did the same, but in an opposite direction. She brought her deformed hands to her eyesight and screamed more, making me laugh louder. She screamed my name, begged me to stop, but I won’t. She has to suffer the way I have suffered. I reached into my pocket and grabbed a large switchblade that my lover gave me, flipping it open. Letting it shine in the light, I looked down at my mother and grinned like the madman I was.

She screamed again.

--

Notes from Dr. Emerson

I hope that this new psychiatrist can help him. Not heal or cure. Unfortunately there is no cure for the insane. But if she can break through that dark, disturbing shell the boy puts up, then the road to recovery will be grand. I’m confident that if all cooperate, then Goten can go back to the way he used to be; happy. I pray to God that he will not get worse and start to hurt people. Especially not that last part.

--

I held her by her neck with a steel grip and carved every one of the wrinkles on her face. Believe it or not, there was a lot! Her blood began to cover the new and old cuts, so I moved down. I brought the sharp blade down over her neck, slicing open the yellowy skin with ease, and down to her chest. I then took the knife behind my head and brought it forward, stabbing open her collar bone. She wailed under me as I continued to stab her again and again and again. When she attempted to stop me with her shattered hands, I pinned one to the floor with the blade. I then glared at her with such hate and disgust that I shook. I couldn’t see straight but it didn’t stop me from pounding my fists into her face. When I saw the bruises form almost immediately, I grabbed her head with my bloody hands, turned her neck to where it was exposed to me, and chomped down like a beast.

--

Notes from Dr. Emerson

“Whom God wishes to destroy, he first makes insane.”

--

-Dillon’s POV-

Around 2a.m. that night, during the height of the storm, my cell phone went off. The music ringtone of a satanic band awoke me from my slumber and I knew already that it was Goten. I sprang up from bed and ran across my room to the computer desk where my phone sat. Snatching it up, I confirmed my guess and answered breathlessly. “Goten? Baby, what’s wrong?” I could hear him on the other line breathing harshly and crying violently. “Goten what happened!? Do you need me to come get you!? Where are you?!” No answer. “Goten!?” I yelled in the phone, terrified that he was in deep trouble and needed help as soon as possible.

There was some coughing and sobbing, and then he sniffed into the phone. Lightning flashed outside my window, illuminating the dark, demonic décor followed by a deafening boom of thunder. It sounded like he had said something, but I completely missed it. “Say it again, mio bella. What happened?” I tried to stay as calm as I possibly could, but I was scared to death.

He sighed. “I… I need help getting rid of a body.”

--

Just as I had promised him, I immediately rushed to Goten’s aid. Before I left, I made sure to bring the only truck we owned, a giant black Ford F650, just in case I needed to haul something away. I also grabbed several garbage bags, broke into my father’s cabinet in the library and took dynamite sticks, matches, and his shotgun. I ran to the kitchen and took rubber gloves and rubbing alcohol. When running into our large garage and grabbing gasoline, I telephoned certain men who worked for me, not my father, and hired them to do whatever I asked of them.

While on my way to Goten’s home, they met me in unmarked black cars and followed me. I stopped in front of the dirt road that led to the shack, grabbed the shotgun, and got out. One of the men also got out and we met in the middle, exchanging nods. “You and your men stay here until I call you. Don’t let anyone down this road. If someone tries to get past…” I gave him the shotgun, “Kill them. Keep the coast clear. If a cop comes, you know what to do.” I smirked and handed him a roll of money to start. He smirked as well, nodded, and got back in his car. I got into the truck and drove down the dirt road, heart pounding in anxiety and excitement with what I was about to face.

I drove the car up to the porch and jumped out, not bothering to turn the engine off. I got to the screen door and instantly smelled something vile. When taking a closer look at the window of the screen door, I saw smeared red handprints and splatters. It was as if someone had tried to escape and didn’t make it. I forced the door open and was met with the smell of blood and complete darkness, save for the lightning from the storm. I squinted in the dark, trying to find my mentally disturbed lover. “Goten?” I called out, walking forward. My body suddenly jerked forward as I slipped on something thick and wet on the tile floor. Catching myself before I hit the ground, I looked down to see that the substance was dark red and shiny. My heart skipped and beat and a chill ran down my spine.

“Goten?!” I called again, this time more desperate. I pushed a chair out of my way and slipped again on the liquid. There must have been blood everywhere. I felt my way to the door of Goten’s room and pushed it open, noticing that a mattress has been turned up against it. Squeezing through, I searched desperately in the dark for Goten. “Goten, it’s Dillon. Answer me!” I pleaded and instantly heard a whimper. Stumbling over objects, I was able to make out a figure in the darkness. Relief came to me when I knew it was Goten. Lightning lit up the room and I finally saw him. He was in the corner of his room, rocking back and forth, whimpering to himself.

I rushed to him and embraced him, trying to calm his violent shaking. He wouldn’t let me see his face as I turned him around so he was chest to chest with me. I hugged him and he hesitantly put his arms around me. I could smell sweat and blood on him. He began mumbling in my chest incoherently. I pulled him away to force him to look me in the eye. I was baffled at what I saw.

Blood covered his entire face, but most of it was dripping from his mouth. His normally slanted eyes were wide with fear and they couldn’t keep locked on anything for too long. He had slash marks on his face and bruises that looked like long rectangles. In the back of my mind, they almost resembled a belt rectangle. ‘So she did beat you…’ I thought and cradled him in my arms again.

I picked him up into my arms and kissed his quivering lips. He looked up at me slightly and started crying again. “It’s my fault… It’s my fault… It’s my fault…” he blubbered over and over again, shaking his head to rid whatever was haunting him.

“No mio bella…” I cooed and began walking out of the room into the living room. My foot kicked something out of the way and it made Goten whine. I looked down at the object and froze. It was a severed arm, wrist broken in a wicked direction. Glancing around at the room, I saw more body parts scattered everywhere. Blood and hair covered anything and everything and it dawned on me what had happened. The strewn body parts, the blood on Goten’s mouth and clothes, the handprints on the walls… Goten had mutilated his mother.

--

“Burn it to the ground.”

Luckily this house was far back enough in the woods that setting it on fire would not bring attention. I gathered whatever things Goten’s mother had not destroyed that Goten wanted and put it in the huge truck. Goten sat in the passengers seat in an emotionless daze, the purple pills working their sedative magic. I gave him a small kiss on the lips, but he sat motionless and unfeeling, dead emotion in his eyes. ‘So this is what the medication does to you…’ I wondered and left him alone.

I ordered my men to get rid of any evidence we may have left behind before we burned the house down. While they worked outside, I went in the house with a garbage bag and collected the body parts Goten had so violently ripped apart not 1 hour ago. Going into the kitchen, I turned the gas stove on high and then the oven, leaving the door open. The smell of gas overpowered the blood and rain and I grinned, satisfied. I had changed my mind about using gasoline moments earlier, remembering that a skilled detective or canine could smell the tiniest drop of gasoline, thus making this a crime of arson, which would lead to a thorough investigation. No need for that.

Outside, my men and I made sure to walk around carefully. The rain was still coming down so the dirt road had become mud. It would have been an issue if our footprints were intact, but the mud was moving freely over each one. The same would happen with the tire tracks from my easily traceable vehicle. I walked over to one of the men that was waiting for me and handed him the garbage bag of gore. "Get rid of this. I want no trace of this woman." I ordered and he nodded, leaving as soon as I passed to rid the body.

The gas from the stove and oven finally leaked outside and made me scrunch my nose. Mud sloshed under my feet as I walked to the truck to grab a box of matches. I looked at Goten again to see him asleep against the window, the medicine having knocked him out. I smiled then went back to business. I stood next to the same man from before that I met on the road and gave him a nod and wad of cash. He whistled and his men immediately got into their cars and took off, leaving me, him and Goten alone.

I strode up to the house, the rain having stopped for a second, with the matches in my hand. Then I placed them one by one leading to the car, creating a line of matches to the house. I then stood by the car and lit one, watching the flame dance. Bending down to examine the match line, the man spoke to me. “That boy… he did this all. And you still want him to walk the streets?”

I smirked and looked at him. “Yes. I love him.”

The man shook his head, and got into the truck in the middle seat. “So what really happened here?” he called to me and I couldn’t help but snicker.

I dropped the lit match onto the line and a spark flew. It caused a chain reaction of fire, the line of matches now a line of fire leading to the gas smelling house. I watched the matches light up one by one for just a second longer and then got into the car. I revved the engine, made a huge turn so I was facing the exit and watched the line one last time. I reached over and grabbed Goten’s limp hand, looked the man in the face and grinned. I drove up the 3 mile dirt road right before the house exploded behind me, the explosion shaking the earth.

“A Bella Morte…”

TBC.

--

Italian Translations:

La sono, ok- Are you ok?

Magnifico- Magnificent

A bella morte- A beautiful death

All the information about paranoid schizophrenia can be found at schizophrenia.com