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
PAIRING: Radditz/Zarbon
WARNING: Yaoi, language, angst, dark fic, character death,
fictional religious themes, violence
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 II
‘You will never be strong enough
You will never be good enough
You were never conceived in love
You will not rise above’
(Evanescence – Lies)
--------
Radditz had been on the verge of dozing off
but was suddenly shaken from that by Zarbon’s body jolting violently before
amber eyes flew open. The Saiyan observed in a stunned silence as he witnessed
the fearful and unfocused expression within them before they calmed as he
realized that he wasn’t in whatever dream world he knew anymore.
Had Radditz not had his swift reactions
natural for a Saiyan warrior, he would have missed it as Zarbon seemed to calm
quickly, as if what had happened was a regular occurrence. Perhaps it had
something to do with the incident. Who knew?
He didn’t really have any idea what had
happened himself. As far as he knew, it had just been another routine training
session then the next thing that he remembered was waking up buried underneath
a pile of rubble. The part that stuck out the most in his mind was reaching his
hand to what he believed to be the way out only to strike something sticky and
damp. It was only when he had dug himself out that he had realized what that
something had been.
Nappa’s body. What he had stuck his hand
into had been the gaping hole in his neck where his head had once been. Upon
the tattered flesh of his neck there had been a mark there; an eye over a star
with many points.
Rumors had soon spread, rumors about Zarbon
being the cause of this. Why else would he have fled so quickly? Soon after
Frieza had sent his remaining few handfuls of soldiers out to all the corners
of the galaxy to hunt the missing warrior down and kill him.
“You’re one of Frieza’s soldiers aren’t
you?” Radditz almost flinched backwards when he glanced down to see those eyes
now focused on him. What surprised him more was the fact that Zarbon hadn’t
moved from where Radditz had been supporting his body against him.
The flickers of an impressed smirk flashed
across Radditz’s face. Even though he wasn’t wearing any uniform that bore
Frieza’s mark he had to admit, even with a culture that had such a mix of
shapes and sizes, he did stand out quite a bit here.
“So tell me why you haven’t killed me yet?”
“What?” one eyebrow rose in curiosity. After
all the running Zarbon had been doing, that was the last thing he expected him
to ask. He didn’t even seem to make any move to try and get away.
“Weren’t your orders to kill me on sight?”
still he continued to push on with his question, golden coloured eyes now in
full contact with Radditz’s own. His exterior and his steady voice made Zarbon
appear to be the calm yet arrogant warrior that he had always been.
But his eyes told a different story. One of
the first things that Radditz picked up was confusion; pure and utter
confusion. So what did that mean? No matter what, the eyes could never lie; no
matter how much Frieza worked at destroying the rest of the soul.
“That’s an odd question from someone who’s
been on the run for some time,” he started to press his own question,
recognizing the chance for a quick game.
“Forget it!”
Harshly pushing against his chest, Zarbon
was able to break the hold that Radditz had on him and was on his feet. Within
the next blink of an eye he was gone with only a fading blue trail indicating
the direction in which he was heading.
The trail faded almost as quickly as its
owner had fled but Radditz remained unmoving from where he was sat, staring
after him. In some ways he almost seemed like the old Zarbon but in other ways
he was different.
There were those eyes for a start. There
were a few warriors, like the Saiyans, who could hide the emotions in their
eyes but Zarbon wasn’t really one of them. He could control his emotions, this
was true but there was no way of him really hiding them. The utter confusion
that he had been staring at only a few moments ago made Radditz wonder whether
Zarbon was actually aware of what he had done, or if he had even done it at
all. What he had heard was just rumor after all and rumors had a habit of spiraling
quickly out of control.
But Radditz doubted that Zarbon had fled
because of pure speculation. The way that he had suddenly started screaming and
shaking violently in his sleep gave him good reason to.
Plus there had been the way his earrings
started to glow.
--------
How long he kept on fleeing Zarbon had no
idea; just like he had no clue as to how long he had been running in general.
That was all that he had been dong for as far as he could remember; running.
Always running. Running from whatever had happened. Running from those who were
trying to kill him. Running from anyone who might offer him a kind smile.
Running from the answers that the voice in his head refused to give him.
Running. Running. Always running.
But
what happens when you trip and fall?
There was a harsh but sharp cry from Zarbon
as his focus went from staying in the air to pushing that voice away from him.
Hands flying up to press over his eyes and ball his hair up in his fists prevented
him from seeing the ground growing closer.
The next cry came when he hit the ground,
his body shaken and tossed along the dirt until he came to a stop lying on his
stomach. Some hair that seemed course broke free from where it was tied behind his
back to fall over his eyes. Somehow it seemed to cool the burning sensation
that had risen in his head when the voice has spoken again. In some ways it
seemed to hide him away as well.
Somehow having half his hair fall out over
his face brought a sense of security with it. Or as much security as one could
feel who was wanted for a crime that they couldn’t even remember committing.
Maybe - - maybe he could get away with just
staying here. Just stay lying alone on the floor like this, hidden away by a
layer of tangled green in front of his eyes. He might b able to. They wouldn’t
be able to find him here would they? He could hardly see anything past his
hair. If he couldn’t see them then they couldn’t see him.
Right?
Stupid
child!
Fists instantly clenched, feeling the sharp debris
on the ground cut the palms of his hands as a small whimper slipped out into
the open air. It had found him.
But the voice seemed a little bit different.
There seemed to be a hint of a different tone to it. Deeper, much deeper then
what he had been hearing before. Something that he had heard before long ago.
What
makes you think that you will ever be good enough?
It was growing deeper with every second,
sounding a little more real with every word.
You
were never meant to be born!
He knew that voice! He had heard it before,
heard those exact words. But where? Who? Who had said these things to him
before?
If it weren’t forbidden, I would have killed
you the second you were born. You are worthless!
“Shut up!”
In a flash his hands pushed down on the
ground to force him onto his knees. As his head tossed upwards to throw his
hair back, wild and almost crazed eyes flew open to reveal a blurry world of
dark red.
Blood?
No. No, not blood. Just the sky. The sun
setting. That was all it was.
“I’m going crazy.”
Although, having said that, he knew that he
wasn’t going crazy. He was crazy! He was hearing voices in his head after all,
that wasn’t exactly normal!
His head lowered again in the hopes that his
hair would fall back and he could go back to hiding. Maybe this time whoever
was in his head wouldn’t find him.
That was when Zarbon saw it. There was
something up ahead. The strange thing was that he recognized it yet knew that
he had never seen it before. At least not while he was conscious.
What he had landed on was some sort of trail
leading up to a piece of land jutting up high over some sort of rocky desert
below. Some sort of high ridge.
The end of the day was being marked by the
sun slowly setting behind the landscape that Zarbon was no facing. The high
jutting landscape made it disappear quickly but long rays of the fading light
still remained, reaching out to cling to what little daytime there was left.
The reds and oranges melting into each other grew darker and darker in the sky
as the sun was slowly pulled further and further down.
But that wasn’t what his interests lay in.
What he had seen was what was standing almost on the edge of this ridge that
stared out at this beautiful landscape. Something standing out of the ground
just enough so that it was silhouetted against the sky to hide its detail.
Somehow he was able to find his feet and
move forward, green hair still swinging in front of his eyes to make his view
hazy at best. But that didn’t stop his eyes to slowly reveal the carvings on
this piece of rock with every step that he took. There was only one thing
there; a star with many points and, as if it were floating on top of it, was an
eye.
Just like in his dream, there was something
deeply disturbing about the way in which a stone eye can stare at you so
knowingly and accusingly. Even though he half anticipated it, Zarbon knew that
if that eye should blink he would jump at least a couple of foot in the air.
There was no doubt about it, that was the
mark that had been on all the dead soldiers when he had awoken, the mark that
had been left upon his victims. And this was the grave that he had always been
seeing when he slept every single night in his dreams. The grave that somehow
held some clue to the memories that he had been hunting.
The colours of the sky grew deeper and
deeper, spilling onto the strong of the wordless grave as the light continued
to shift. The deep red running slowly down the worn and old stone seemed so
much like the blood that he eye had been crying in his dreams that Zarbon
unknowingly took a step backwards.
This he had seen before. He had stood upon
this very spot before, he knew who’s grave that was. He knew! He just couldn’t
remember, absolutely everything was out of reach.
It was a start at least. Even though he
couldn’t remember a damn thing about it, knowing whose grave it was had to be a
good sign. Knowing that he had stood here had to be a good starting point.
Right?
There had been a bit of a wind, he was
suddenly able to pick up on that detail. Yes, there had been a bit of a breeze
on that day when he had stood in this spot, just like there was now. A few
loose strands of hair were blowing in front of his eyes, making the eye that
was staring at him seem slightly distorted.
Because of that, he dismissed what he
thought he saw at first but soon he began to feel a little unsure. Pushing back
his hair and holding it in place, he took another step back as he took another
look at the eye.
It seemed a little more - - realistic. He
had been watching it the whole time yet, without him knowing, somehow it had
changed. It was staring at him, right at him. It knew something. Somehow that
eye seemed to know something. What he did? Who he was?
What? What did it know?!
Everything.
What do you think?
“What?” he cried out with a harshness that
made his throat ache. “What does it see? Tell me!”
It
sees what I do. It sees what you have done. It sees where you’re going. It sees
who you are. It sees what a pathetic individual you are!
“Why won’t you fucking tell me?” frustration
came quickly, his hands shooting up and gripping his hair with enough force to
nearly tear it out.
Did I
not answer your question? I told you what it sees.
“What did I do? I’ve been here before now
tell me!”
And
what do you plan on doing about it? You can’t reach me?
“Get out! Get out of my head!” somewhere he
had fallen down to his knees, now able to reach down and grip the dirt with one
hand while the other stayed buried in his hair. That hand dragged down the
green strands to touch his face. There was something wet running down his
cheeks.
Tears?
Looking down, his actions froze, his body
tensing as he expected to hear the voice inside his head again. But there was
nothing. Just what was on his hand.
His tears were red. Blood red!
It didn’t feel like tears; it felt thicker,
stickier, warmer.
It WAS blood.
With the back of his hand he wiped away a
little more of whatever was seeping through his eyes. Red. It was red.
Blood!
He was crying blood! Just like the eye in
the gravestone had done in his dream.
He looked down only to still see red. The
ground was covered in blood.
He looked up. So was the gravestone, the
gravestone was blood red too.
Everything. Everything was covered in blood!
--------
Night had started falling when Radditz had
managed to trudge back to his space pod. Part of him wondered what the hell he
was going to do. From the looks of things, this planet was too primitive to
have the advanced parts that he needed to go anywhere. Until he could somehow
get his communications back and get some assistance he was pretty much stuck
here.
But another part of him worried, something
that he definitely wasn’t used to doing. It wasn’t Saiyan-like at all after
all. Worry took your defenses down which could highly effect your battle
ability. And, seeing as the Saiyans had evolved as one of the most powerful
warrior races in existence, this was something that they couldn’t afford to do
at all.
It disturbed him though. Zarbon had always
been known as an utter bastard. He was pretty much untouchable and knew at as
the second strongest in Frieza’s entire fleet. That was if you didn’t include
the Ginyu Special Forces but even with them in the picture he was still very
high up in the ranks.
What he had seen from Zarbon just a few
hours ago had been the unimaginable. He had caught up with him at a moment
where he was kneeling on the ground, hunched right over. Radditz could have
sworn that he was talking to himself. He could have also sworn that Zarbon had
been talking to someone, but the Saiyan also remembered absolutely no one else
being present except the two of them.
Zarbon was going insane perhaps?
That might at least start explaining the
incident. With the amount of power that Zarbon probably held, if he suddenly
flipped then it could probably do a lot of damage if released all at once.
Then there had been the way he had started
screaming soon after he had passed out. Whatever he had seen, Radditz found
himself hoping to the high heavens that he would never see what Zarbon had
then. What could possibly have reduced one of Frieza’s fearsome warriors to
that?
His earrings had been glowing too. Radditz
couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe this had something to do with everything
as well.
Radditz’s musings were interrupted when his
sensitive hearing picked up a harsh, horrified scream.
To be continued…
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