Domination

Disclaimer: I don't own DB/Z/GT in any manner. If I owned it... then... just... wow... I could die with no regrets. But what i DO own is Zoomie. He is mine forever and ever. And NO KOvegetaRN you can't kidnap him! I already did! xD


Warnings: MORE GAY SEX! Not very detailed, but it's definitely in there. And I know there are people who don't like the Goku/Vegeta relationship. But guess what, it's in here. Their relationship is a BIG BIG part of the story. For those who oppose a uke Goku... get over it. He will have his turn as seme eventually. Disturbing images (and OMG there is a part in here that made me cringe writing it) and thoughts. Personal opinions in a journal entry may offend highly!! Gore and blood. No Fluff.

This chapter is dedicated to my dearest friend, Juunanagou, who is currently in the insane asylum because of his madness that consumed him. You were my motivation for writing this chapter like i did. I love you.

--

Chapter 7: The Start of Madness

Zoomie's blood cancer had gotten extremely worse in only days. He told me that the doctors said it happened over the weekend, or the day after we had sex. He took a nap once I left that day and had woken up bleeding out of his pores and eyes, pain ripping through him whenever he breathed. He had failed to mention he stayed over night in the hospital all weekend long when he was telling me about his weekend in school.

I had passed out that day when he told me, probably scaring him to death. I remember waking up to seeing my mother's sunken in face from stress and hearing Zoomie talking in Spanish. I sat up, seeing that he was on the phone crying. My mother tried to stroke my hair and comfort me (I guess that's what she was trying to do) and I pushed her away, telling her to "fuck off."

We fought for an hour while Zoomie watched, his face in shock and pain.

The last time I saw him, I was at the airport with him and his big family. Everyone was talking up a storm in the foreign language and I just watched Zoomie. After the finals at school, his adorable body had taken a turn for the worst. His skin had gotten a dingy greenish-yellow tone to it, his eyes had sunken into his once beautiful face, his arms had even gotten so skinny that it was nothing but skin and bone. He was extremely weak and couldn't even pick up a plate of food.

And I just watched him sitting in his new wheelchair, my heart tugging again. I had went over and knelt beside him, hugging him as soft as I could so I didn't break his brittle bones. He made me look at him and he started to cry, stroking my face with what stength he had. "Soy feo..." he whispered. He had been telling me that this whole time. I asked his mom what it had meant and she said it meant 'I'm ugly' in spanish. I promised him and myself that I was going to learn as much Spanish as I could when I got into highschool.

"No you're not... You never have been and you never will be." I whispered back and held him again. I kissed his cheek, his mother taking a picture of it. I handed him the picture of me and my father that he fell in love with and purred in his ear. Earlier he had given me a "glamour shots" photo of him which I kept with me at all times. I was being my old self that day for the last time ever; for him.

He had laughed and kissed me on my lips for the last time. "Te amo..." he spoke softly, his soft emerald eyes gasing at me. Talking was hurting him too.

I gathered up all my courage and set aside my pride. "I... love you... too..." I whispered in his ear and cried when the final boarding call was announced. I watched the plane take off and cried some more, wanting to kill myself.

Once home, I immediatly went on the internet to find out more information on his blood cancer. What he had was called Polycythemia Vera and I wanted to know everything about it. I went to and typed in the disease, getting a nice long page of information. What I read made me hurt all over, seeing that there was little hope for Zoomie at his extremely young age. People in their 40's to their 60's were supposed to have the disease and it was extremely rare for children to have it. Reading along more, I skimmed over a blue underlined word that said "death."

/Later symptoms and complications

As the disease progresses, patients with PV may have episodes of hemorrhage or thrombosis. Thrombosis is the most frequent cause of deathfrom PV. Other complications include a high level of uric acid in the blood and an increased risk of peptic ulcer disease. About 10 of PV patients eventually develop gout; another 10 develop peptic ulcers/

I stared at the information, dead emotion washing over me. Something in my mind has changed since I watched Zoomie's plane take off. I was about to scream until blood shot out from my mouth but... I shut down. I could literally feel my brain almost sigh. I tried to cry over the fact that he DID have the first stages of Thrombrosis but I couldn't. I shook my head and stared off out of my small window in my room. To happy people, it was beautiful outside. The sun was shining, it was comfortably warm, flowers were blooming, birds sang their hearts out... and I suddenly had the urge to blow up Disney World. But I would have to settle for the woods out behind my house.

I shutdown my computer and went outside, glaring at the sun and it's brightness. Why is it that no matter how beautiful it is outside, someone who is clinically depressed doesn't see the beauty at all? It could be the only day in time that the sun could be out like this and have animals all over mating and living, and yet I want to throw up. Why can't the world be gloomy and dull right now? Why can't the world show off what I am feeling inside?

Fuck the world...

I looked up in a tree to see a baby bird wondering off from his nest onto a thin branch. He chirped and I cocked my head, adrenaline rushing through my body. Almost like a killer instinct like all saiyans have, I made my way to the tree and followed the vulnerable bird. As it reached the very end of the branch I growled and smirked, wanting it to fall. It's almost as if someone heard my wish and granted it almost immediatly. The small bird fell right out of the tree and I sprinted forward, catching the baby animal. Caught in my grasp, it began chirping and making failed attempts at escape. After a good 2 minutes it stopped and looked at me, almost like it was begging for me to let go. Not making a sound or sudden movement, I took my other hand and stroked the filthy animal's head. My head cocked to the other side at the soft feeling and I pet it harder, scaring it so it chirped more. Its beady little eyes stared at me and my paranoia of eyes made me twitch. I squeezed the little bird with the hand it was captured in with a glare plastered on my face. The chirps turned into squawks and it continued to stare at me.

"Stop looking at me!!" I screamed and squeezed the animal until i felt my fingertips on the palm of my hand.

The bird's eyes popped right out of it's head before the head itself did the same. Feathers and blood flew in the air and covered my small hand. The little head landed at my feet and I could hear the mother bird almost shit herself. I breathed heavily and enjoyed the adrenaline rush I got from killing the stupid animal. I looked down at the decapitated head and laughed almost like a madman. Then I glared at the mother bird before I brought my foot down on top of it and squashed it all over the ground.

My first killing of the innocent... how fucking wonderful.

--

Summertime; the freedom of a child is let loose. No longer confined to the restrictions of school and rules, a kid can finally be a kid. Running around, eating bugs, swimming all day and sleeping all night, flirting with girls (or boys), eating icecream, sleepovers where no one actually sleeps, go on annoying camping trips with the family, and much more. These are the times we cherish with friends and family. Fun-filled summers are what makes memories worth remembering. During summer vacation, you are never down.

At least... a majority of children aren't...

My summer wasn't allowed to be fun and gay. My mother lost her job because she was caught sucking a dick in the storage area of the little gas station for money. I wasn't just disgusted, I was livid pissed. So my mother can suck a dick and I can't? Because of her job loss we were not just poor, but completely broke. What little money she got by whoring her mouth off went to her alcoholicism by buying beer. And that dick sucking, alcohol-making money got her drunk every night. With her drunkenness, she abused me verbally and even physically. I can stand up for myself when it comes to a fist fight until she somehow grabs my fragile tail and sends jolts of mind-blowing pain coursing through my body is when i lose. Even when we are not fighting, she will slip into my room and experiment with my tail.

One night I woke up to a sensation so great I got an erection almost immediately. Moaning and rubbing my hips on the mattress beneath me, I opened my eyes to search for the source of the sudden pleasure. Getting on my elbows and turning my head, I found the source. My mother was... sucking on my tail... "You're father used to love this whenever his tail grew back." she would purr and suck my tail some more.

My mind snapped into a protective, killer instinct. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?" I screamed, my voice pitching uncontrollably higher. I yanked my tail out of her mouth and wrapped it around her neck like a python, growling and snarling at her. I wanted to break her neck. I wanted to have her head roll off of her body. I even wanted to fuck her head through the opening of blood and guts.

I picked her off the ground with my tail, now standing, and tossed her to my wall. A hard SMACK noise filled the air and the crater where she hit (amazingly enough she didn't break through outside) formed cracks running up the ceiling. My head was buzzing with pain and heat that I felt it would explode. I flashed from normal to super saiyan in time with my racing heart, my eyes taking on a crazed look. She stared up at me and began to cry, blood running out of her nose. "Quit staring at me!!" I screamed at her like I screamed at the baby bird. 'Fix the problem! Fix the problem! Cut her fucking eyes out!' a voice told me and I nodded vigorously.

I remember storming out of the room to get a knife in the kitchen. I passed the pull-out couch where my mother slept in the tiny living room, glancing to see some needles on the bed. Not thinking much about it, I opened a drawer and grabbed a butcher knife. I cocked my head to the side at the way the light reflected on the cold blade. A small childlike voice in me whispered that I shouldn't even think about killing my mother. But then there was a voice the laughed and laughed, demanding that I cut out her eyes.

I shook my head, a sudden sense of alarm swept over me when I realized I heard the voices. I set down the knife in horror. 'Wha...?' I couldn't even finish my thought, hearing my mother call my name. I shook my head a second time and made my way back to my room, glancing at the pull-out again. I stopped, realizing that I saw 3 empty syringes. I reached down and picked one up, some liquid dripping out of the needle. 'Drugs...' I gasped and threw it back on the bed with a shiver. My mother called again and I rubbed my arms, going back in my dark room. She was sitting against the wall where I tossed her at, her fingers touching her naked sex. "Please get out..." I growled, staying in the doorway.

"I miss your father." she sighed and continued to slowly masterbate. Rolling my eyes, I stayed where I was, watching her touch herself in disgust.

"Then why did you throw him out?" I spat, glaring at her.

I didn't get an answer, just a moan. Instead, I turned and went towards our plastic front door, opening it to the cool night air of summer. I took off into the sky and didn't return home for about 2 weeks.

--

It was after those 2 weeks of being away from home (in the city and woods) that my father came after me. He randomly showed up a few days after my return and embraced me like it was the last time he would ever see me. He even cried too. My mother came to the door in a 5 day old t-shirt and cut-off jeans, glaring at my father with alcohol glazed eyes. "You know our deallll..." she slurred to him then stared at me. "You're staying with your father for a month. Don't get to comfy there either." she went back in the house and I watched my father's face contort into hurt.

I packed up what little clothes I had and flew away with my dad, curious as to where he took up residency. When we came upon an orange dome in the middle of the city, I turned around immediately and took off in another direction. He noticed and within an instant he was holding me and telling me how it was going to be ok. He kissed my eyes and my lips, promising me that he wouldn't let Trunks hurt me. I kept him to that promise and let him carry me all the way back to the dome.

I didn't see Trunks for a bit while I stayed with my dad. I was told that he left with Bulma on a 5 week vacation to Europe. I did see Vegeta around more often than usual. He refused to go to a "flilthy place like France or Ukraine." He was always walking around in his black spandex shorts and thin white tank top and my mind had me convinced that he was teasing me. His bronzed, tan skin standing out from the white tank just begged for me to lick it... Funny how the mind always plays tricks on you? Everytime he was near, I was constantly hormy. I did things to make him bend over so I could stare at his perfect ass. It resembled that of a football players because his hips were so big. But big in a good way of course... I dreamt at night of opening his huge thighs and having my way with him. At times all I want to do is hear him moan. I get shivers just thinking about what it would sound like...

Don't get me wrong here... I still have an unbridled attraction to Trunks. I sleep in his room every night thinking of the most naughty things I want to do to him. I rub my erection through my pants, my hips rocking on my hand. My thoughts get weirder and weirder as I keep on masterbating. I want his leg there and his finger here, I am itching to place that there and feel this here. Once I start to feel my eyes begin to water and my face burn with desire, I would start to tease my own entrance, imagining him doing the job. When I would start to feel my balls stiffen in my close release is when I start to fuck myself with not 2--but 4 fingers. I would feel around for my "special spot" and then I would cum all over his bed and myself once I hit that place.

I don't clean his bed. I let my cum dry on his sheets so that when he gets home and see's how many white stains are on his bed, he will have to confront me. Then I plan on taking advantage of him. How bittersweet would that be? And more amazingly enough, what if he actually went along with this "rape"? Pretended to hate it but he continuously thrashed, came and screamed in mind blowing pleasure as I fucked him? Fucking perfect...

He makes me want to cream in my pants... Kami... I still love him so fucking much!

--

It's my blood dream again...

I am in the same open valley of deep gold grass and red overcast skies. I am walking towards what looked like a lake full off red water again, shimmering in the blazing sun above me. I am floating towards it again, almost like it was pulling me to it. As I reached the bank of the lake, a familiar rotten smell filled my nostrils. I am no longer afraid to look down and see that the water was really gallons upon gallons of red blood. I am now use to seeing the dead, grusome corpses floating in the water, the bodies murdered in the worst ways. I wad into the blood lake again, crunching dead bodies under my feet and pushing them out of the way as I go deeper and deeper. I start to see that the Trunks bodies aren't the only ones occupying the lake. Now my mother is floating with him. I smile crookedly and start to giggle for no reason.

I can't stop laughing now. My giggles have turned into fits of uncontrollable laughter as I push past the rotting bodies of Trunks and my mother, their eyes no longer intact. The blood is starting to reach up to my neck and I inhale a deep breath. I then sink into the bloody lake, the thick red liquid engulfing my entire being. I open my eyes, my dream allowing me to see through all the gore. I swim around for what seems to be hours, looking to see the many unique ways my mother or Trunks has been slaughtered. Was this the violent part of my mind revealing to me what I have buried inside me? Is this interesting dream trying to tell me something?

It's not so interesting anymore as see someone familiar. I push away the head of my mother that was blocking my view, noticing the other body in here. My mouth opens in horror and note quickly that nothing enters my lungs. All around in front of me is my precious Zoomie... all of his body parts are floating around his organs. His intestines are swimming around like a snake and his head floats near me, eyes wide open. I swim to the decapitaded body part and hold it near me, kissing the eyes and lips passionately. I then start to scream in the blood water, the sheer horror of my mind now frightening me to insanity. I swim to the top of the bloody lake with all my strength, still holding the head of Zoomie. I am still screaming in the thick liquid, bubbles from the air in my lungs beating me to the top. I burst out of the water gasping and screaming, holding onto nothing as Zoomie's head slipped from my grip just before I reached the surface. I looked down to see his face staring up at me as his decapitated body part sunk back to the abyss of red. I screamed again at the top of my lungs, thrashing and cursing to the heavens above for taking him from me.

--

I awoke that night to see Trunks staring at me in shock and concern. He told me that I had been screaming bloody hell for at least 10 minutes before he came in to get me to stop. I also had awoken to blood on my hands and mouth and had to be rushed to the medical center in the Capsule Corp. building. Ends up, I had tore my esophagus from the screaming. For the week that I was in the hospital, Trunks only visited me once to tell me how I sounded like a pussy F-A-G when I was yelling. I then told him that I wanted to tear his pretty eyes out of his pretty head becaused he wouldn't stop looking at me. A nurse over heard me say that and the next thing you know, I was getting psychologically examined by a very old man in a white coat.

Once the 3 hour examination was over, I was diagnosed with extreme paranoia and clinical depression.

--

Trunks is having his 15th birthday celebration today. He has invited pretty much all of our 8th grade team to celebrate. They closed off Six Flags, rented 10 stretch Hummers, and rented out a 4 Seasons Hotel. Then he took all his closest friends with him to Jamaica. He will be gone for a week. 'I was supposed to go to... before all THIS happened...' I thought to myself constantly. Why can't my life be back to the way it used to be? Why did I fucking have to admit that I was in love with that shit head? More yet... why do i still love him...?

I cut into my wrists deeply and drank myself to sleep almost every night. I even masterbated 4 times on his bed the night he flew to Jamaica.

'This is my fault... this is my fault... this is my fault...'

--

The summer rolled on and MY birthday finally showed up. My dad told me that I could do whatever I wanted since it was my special day. I told him that I wanted to do Trunks and Vegeta at the same time. Plans for my birthday were never brought up again by him after that...

Instead, when it was the day of my 14th birthday, I went on a shopping spree with my brother Gohan and the money that was given to me by Bulma. My brother was silent most of the time as I bought all kinds of gothic clothing and accessories that I was going to wear when I started high school. He still didn't know what to think of his little fag brother. "Vegeta told me that he didn't look down on me for being a homo. He said that it was much more common for Saiyans to be gay than straight. He said that straight couples were actually rare." I told him when we were eating in the giant food court of the mall. Gohan only nodded and commented on the food and clothes I bought. He even bought me a pair of big black pants with chains on them for my birthday; still just as quiet as ever, still hiding and isolating his emotions, still no longer happy. Since my parents seperation, he hasn't been the same. Just like me, he went through a quick personality change and has been that way ever since. I guess he always thought that our parents would always be together no matter what.

Welcome to reality my dear brother.

--

It was almost time for Highschool registration. My nerves had been on end all the rest of the summer. I wasn't ready to face highschool. "I won't be accepted by anyone and Trunks is going to tell everyone that I am gay! Then things will only be worse in highshool than in middle! Please don't put me through this! I want to repeat!" I begged my father on those last few days I got to spend with him before I went back home. He told me that it wasn't his choice because he didn't have full custody of me. My mother was the one who would be making all my decisions for me until I was 18. Fuck.

This month with my father hasn't really been all that bad. Even if I still wasn't able to take advantage of pretty little Trunks, some good things have happened, I can't lie. Even though my brother was a completely different person, I still had a blast with him on my birthday. Despite the sexual comment I made towards the Prince's, my dad had a small celebration with me and got me something for my 14th too: A 100 page journal. He says that I should write down what I feel and all that good stuff. "Like a diary. You're own personal opinions and thoughts that no one can say otherwise." That's all he told me. So I thanked him and it became a new escape for me. I wrote down anything that came to my mind that I felt needed to be said. In this case; written.

He won't tell me alot since the seperation. His true feelings on my mother, what he is going to do with his life now, blah blah blah... Then again he never really has talked to me. I want to know all the information I can out of him. I never really know what is going on in his head. No one does. I wonder alot if he has progressed a mental disability like my mother. I think that since me coming out and the divorce, something came loose in her head. My dad doesn't seem like there is anything wrong... But the REAL insane people are the ones who look normal.

What he HAS failed to mention was his dirty little secret that he has now.

It was a hot summer night, the last day I was staying with him; Trunks had been gone almost all summer to avoid me, Vegeta continues to walk around in nothing but spandex shorts and a tight tank top, and my father... well... he is just concerned for my well-being. I couldn't sleep at all because of the heat and the constant horniness I had. I was really planning on tonight being the night that I raped Trunks. Something in my head kept whispering to take advantage of his sleeping body... or his dead one. When I was on my way to his room, vile plan and all, I heard thumping and a quiet voice above me. Who else would be up at 3 in the morning? Vegeta possibly doing a horrid crime like I was going to do to his son? My dad pacing back and forth and talking to himself? Or just my imagination playing with me again?

After the talking I heard another thump and then hushed moans. As the noises got louder, so did my curiousity. Plans on raping Trunks were going to have to wait. I made it to the room where the familiar noises were coming from and the moans got louder and more frantic. I pressed my ear to the door to hear my father gasping and whimpering. Then a deep, sexy voice asked him if he liked what he was going to him. My father sounded like a slut by moaning out that he did. I had to see who my father was with. The fact that he was with another man made me want to bring my mother with me to see the sex that was happening. A heart attack would be amazing.

I opened the door as quiet as I could, desperate pleas and cries escaping the mouth of my gay dad. When I peered into the dark room, I saw the familiar upswept hair of the older man that I was lusting for between the legs of my dad. Both were on my father's bed, whithering and panting at the sex they were having. Vegeta was all but plowing into my dad, his strong hand jacking him off. My father's legs were wide open as the Prince fucked him good and hard. The erection in my pants became painfully aware to me. My face was burning at the site of my dad getting his brains fucked out, him now screaming and crying out that he needed Vegeta, that he couldn't live without him, that the Prince could have him anyway he wanted. I saw Vegeta smile at the lusty pleas of my dad. I knew all to well that Vegeta was enjoying every minute of his lay.

I grabbed my penis and stroked myself hard. Vegeta grunting and moaning, my father screaming and arching his back, their sweat dripping all over the place... it was one of my sick fantacies come true. To hear my father get fucked over and over again became a very hidden desire of mine. I listened to him and my mom have sex, but it was very rare and my mother wanted it over with quickly. But with Vegeta... he was a man who will no doubt fuck you until he tore you in half. At least that's what it looked like to me. I watched in voyeurism and moaned with them, dropping to my knees with all the need my body was experiencing, the tingling, spider-like feeling all over me. When my father orgasmed, so did I. And when they turned to look at the door because of the cry I let out, I was already gone.

--

July 27

As much as we hate to admit it, we love death and destruction. We love to hear about the murdered and the raped, the suicides and the blasphomy, the terrorists and the people suffering from insanity. Do you really think we tune into the news to know about some stupid school function or a new mayor? Do we really want to hear what the weather man has to say? Unless it's about a hurricane threatening to kill thousands, then no. Everyone wants to hear about the fuckups. We want to know everything about a suicide or triple homicide. And we get pissed when they won't show us the scene of the crime or the slaughtered body; admit it. Why do you think that CSI is the number one watched show on Fox? For the characters? Fuck no. We sick, sick people in the world watch it for the death; the gore; the insanity. We want to hear about a rape. Some men, and even women, get off to the news when they talk about the ways a person was raped. That moment of release, that sheer bliss of an orgasm is triggered by the man or woman saying "And the worst thing he did to me was..." Why are humans so afraid to admit the truth? Why can't they just come out and say "Yeah, I like to see murdered people. Do you?" If humans don't believe me, then we are all doomed, Saiyan or not. Why do you think the website called rotten has over a billion viewers a day? We go there to see the bloody truths behind the media. Why do you think that so many people tuned in to watch the dictator of Iraq get hung? Patriotism or Pleasure? Or both? I have recently found that I love to see all this. I never admitted to loving the cruel slaughters Majin Buu committed, but I will admit to loving the way I killed the baby bird that I had in my grasp. I was taught to fear and hate the evils of the world. But now... I want to commit them myself...

-- Son Goten

--

I am back home with my mother who has found herself another job at closer gas station. So at least we have money coming in. I wasn't too happy about leaving my father, who --by the way-- was getting banged by Vegeta every day and night. You could tell by the constant noises at night above my room. I was also disappointed that I didn't do ANYTHING with Trunks like I was planning. 'Next time...' my mind whispered to me and I agreed. 'Next time we will get him in front of all his preppy little friends and choke him with a Abercrombie shirt. Then we will rape his virgin ass and we will fucking love it.' Whoever this other person of the "we" was, had some pretty damn good ideas. I named him too. The one who gives me all the sexually disturbing ideas, I call him "Eros." After the Greek god of lust and sex. Hello Eros.

Highschool registration came and went. Not only was I enrolled into 7 different classes, but I bashed a kid's face onto the large, orange school building. Because my mother was gone at work, Bulma offered to take me with her to enroll not only me, but Trunks too. Vegeta came with us, just in case me and his purple haired son got into a fight. Trunks glared at me through the rearview mirror and I stayed quiet, my fists clenching and unclenching, my body rushing full of adrenaline, my mind screaming at me to tear his eyes out of his head for looking at me. Instead of acting on my impulses and paranoia, I turned away and watched the homes and stores go by.

We pulled up to the giant orange school and I cringed at all the people that were there. 'So many of Trunks's friends... so many people to look out for... so many... victims...' That last part caught me off guard. I was paralyzed with fear at the word 'victims,' so much afraid that I may become what Vegeta says all saiyans were born to be. We parked the car and Trunks burst out of his door, getting greeted by tons of students who worshipped him. I sat where I was, afraid of their stares. I was afraid of the color of their eyes even. Vegeta had to open my door and drag me to the front of the school, people watching and laughing. As we went into the mile wide school, people glared at me in disgust, calling me "freak" and "the devil" because of the full black outfit I wore. Some people just don't understand why I am dressed like this. They are so full of themselves. Then as we were going towards a door saying "ADMINISTRATION" with a line of students, I passed a huge guy in a cut off shirt saying "Football or Nothing" that spat out "FAG!" to me.

Before I could stop on my own, pain and rage coursing through my body, Vegeta did. He whipped around, still having me in his grasp, and gave this huge guy the most hateful, death-like glare that I had ever seen. It pretty much said "I will tear your intestine's out through your ass." The guy gulped. "Do you have some fucking problem asshole!? I will rape you myself!!" Vegeta roared, his face burning with hate. I watched as the guy backed away and ran off outside the building. I smiled sexily when he looked down at me and he just rolled his eyes, dragging me into the office while passing all the kids and parents who have been waiting in line for hours. He ignored the complaints and curses, even telling Bulma to "fuck off" while he got me taken care of. When the people behind the desks told him to go to the back of the line, the beautiful Prince hollered and demanded to get me taken care of or else he was going to blow them to smitherines. So they did and I was free to check out the school while Trunks took his dear sweet time being Mr. Popular.

I walked around for a bit, zoning out as I got myself purposely lost on the school grounds. I came back to reality when I heard that same "fag" rang in my ears. I turned around, seeing that it was the same meaty guy. He must've been at least 300 pounds of fat and muscle. His beady little eyes glared at me in disgust and his giant fist pounded against his open palm, the universal sign of ass-kicking time. I watched the sweat roll off of his red face and scrunched my nose at the sight of the sweat stains he had under his armpits. "You know, I hate faggots like you. You homofuckables are all going to hell to burn with Satan!" he yelled and came at me. This time, I didn't fight my killer instinct that took over me. I ducked gracefully at his swinging fist and grabbed the back of his buzzed head, noting its greasiness. I then lunged him forward and smashed his face into the orange bricks of the school building. Not satisfied with the crunch of a broken nose, I smashed his face again and again, blood splattering further each time I did it. When I was done, I let him drop to the ground, staring at the beautiful masterpiece of gore I created. "Don't EVER call me a faggot again!" I growled and spat on his ripped apart face.

"GOTEN!" I heard Vegeta call for me and I snapped out of my instinct. When I looked at the blood splatter on the wall, chunks of the guy's face resting there, and then down at the victim of my horrible act, I shrieked in horror.

I had torn his face off...

--

So, what did you think? Was is good or bad? What do I need improvement on? Favorite part? Worst part? Please let me know!