Dark Blue Child
folder
Dragon Ball Z › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,601
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Dragon Ball Z › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,601
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
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.
BloodShed
A/N: My first dark fic. I have another fic but it isn’t posted on this site.
****Flash back***
Sobbing could be heard from her parents’ room. She locked herself in her room, with the pillow over her head, trying miserably to block out the screams, which she had come accustomed to.
Painful screams and silent smiles could be heard down the hall. The small girl, only the age of 13, had to grow up in a violent and chaotic life in her home. Of course, she was rich, but money wasn’t happiness. But apparently, torture was for her father. The smacks and thuds could be heard loudly, and she was only rooms away. The disturbing sounds echoed through their large home.
She herself started to sob as her father called out her name. She ignored it, not wanting to walk over to the horrible scene she knew she was bound to see. She wiped away her unshed tears. Thankful that every time she cried, it would never leave signs of it besides the trails of it on her cheeks. She always wiped them away, so that she wouldn’t get an extra beating. “ You’re bleeding on my fucking carpet you bitch!” A sickening crack could be heard.
Her father angrily screamed her name to come over to him. She reluctantly walked down the long wide halls that she had come to nick name, death row. Her head bowed down and staring at her bare feet as she made it to the bedroom door. With the accurate hearing she had obtained from listening to low talk conversations, she pressed her ear against the door. “Come in Bulma.” Her father said in a, low toned voice.
Bulma entered, only to stifle the gasp that cried to be released from her mouth. She looked down at the floor, which had her lovely and beautiful mother, battered, bruised and surrounded in a small pool of her own blood. She made her way to get to her mother, but was pushed hard back onto the floor, where the blood had already managed to reach. Her mother whispered out softly to leave, telling her she needed to get away from the monstrosity that was her father. He stomped on her back, making her head splash into the redness of her own blood. Her blonde hair lost all of its goldness and shine, now drenched in a sad painful red.
“This will be a lesson girl.” He father started as he pulled out a large kitchen knife. “ Not to fuck with me. And to listen to what I say. Your stupid ass mother is no longer a use for me.” He said coldly. She tried to lift her self up and stagger away, but the heaviness of death was overwhelming. She cried out, ignoring the blood that slurred the words of her mouth. “ You time is now.” With that said he stabbed his spouses’ back, hitting a bone that made an unusual shattering sound. He stabbed her repeatedly, splashing little spots of blood around them, the walls, and Bulma. *Stabbing and stabbing* Those words repeated over and over in the child’s mind. The pool of blood increased.
Her blue eyes were now wide and no longer an innocent blue. But a shade of reflective red shined out with horror. “...Momma...” Bulma silently spoke, wanting to stop the madness that was her father. “Come Here.” Demanded her father. The small child hadn’t caught the words, until her father forcefully yanked her arm to him. “End her.” Was all he spoke. Bulma looked up at her father, eyes crying outly aly and not understandingly. “End her misery. Or I’ll end yours too.” He spoke with a sadistic grin. “ Do it before I give her the pleasure of drowning in her own blood.”
Bulma looked down at her mother, who tried to make eye contact with her and speak once more. But all that came out of her mouth was a gurgling sound. Her father pushed his weight of his arms onto her shoulders, forcing her down into her knees. The blood was drenching her more and more; wanting to pull her into the hell and position her mother was in. Her father offered, no. He stuffed the knife into her hand. Her small hands trembled with the weapon that was bringing her mother to her end. “ WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, DAMN IT! JUST LIKE YOUR FUCKING MOTHER. TOO STUPID TO DO ANYTHING TOLD!!! PROVE ME WRONG.” He yelled angrily, pushing her on the almost corpse body. Bulma let silent tears slid down her face and she lifted the dripping knife.
*I’m so sorry* Bulma thought and she stabbed her mother’s left side back. The knife going from behind, all the way through the heart which held so much love for her. She plunged yet again through the already pierced skin, hoping her mother would forgive her. She hoped that her mother was already dead as she heard her father laugh in his own sweet glory. She stopped stabbing once she heard her father grunt approvingly.“ So you do have your father’s blood, not including the disgusting blood drenching you at the moment.” He said sarcastically, as he smiled cruelly. Bulma looked up at him, sadness and hate showing in her teary eyes.
Her father smacked her across her face, sending her down to the stained satin floor. *Another bruise, but maybe not another day* Bulma thought sadly as she glanced over to the lifeless body that was a few feet away from hers. Blood once again splashed. For Bulma, time slowed down as the red substance that was extracted by her father swallowed her body. * You extracted it too, child* Her conscience said accusingly.
He walked over to her and picked up the knife that was laid out on the floor. She looked up at her father in disbelief. He bent down in front of her and smiled a fake acid filled smile that pierced her skin. He brushed the knife hard against his daughter’s frightful face, using her as a human cloth to wipe the murder weapon clean.
She didn’t hear her father screaming and yelling at her. Not feeling the angry kicks that were sent at her sides. *Murderer! * Her mind screamed. * It wasn’t-* *Yes it was* Her conscience told her. She didn’t know how long she stayed in that room. She screamed out, her soul, her mind, her heart, screamed out in agony. The blood was dried on her skin, but now crumbling down to the floor. Her father punched her send her into the door and onto the floor’s hallway. Burma quickly ran to her room. * Yes, child. Run. Run from your guilt* Said the voice in her mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She entered her room to find her three-year-old sister, Lace, whimpering in the corner, with a bruise on her left eye, due to the whining at the kitchen table. *That would be the last time we sat as a whole ‘family’* Bulma thought sarcastically/sadly. She walked over to her and enveloped her in her arms, comforting her. Bulma looked out her window, hating being in one place for too long. She was a girl who needed adventure; she wasn’t ignorant for her age, and neither was her sister.
She was a genius that wasn’t noticed of her abilities. She actually was the one who made Capsule Corporations for what it was. A capsule industry. She made that invention one night while sneaking into her father's lab. She made her invention and left it on the desk. Presuming he made it, her father took the entire name and glory of the capsule idea that made more than billions of dollars to both the scientist (her father) and his family. Bulma patted her sister’s long blonde hair that she HAD inherited from her mother, and dared not to look into those same blue eyes.
She needed to get out. Far away, and she didn’t need all the problems that were going on right now in her young life. Then it all registered to her. * I killed her too... My own mother... * Silent tears flowed out of the older child’s eyes, the hot watery substance landing on her sibling’s glossy hair. Her sister, feeling her head slightly moist, looked up into her sister’s eyes that held so much pain, but not the physically pain that everyone in the household was accustomed to. It was emotional pain, one that the little girl could not understand.
“ What happened to Momma?” Her sister asked fearfully. Bulma tried to hold in her cries of loss, which made her sister even more curious and afraid. Bulma rocked her sister back and forth, telling her that it was her fault too. The smaller child had no idea of what guilt plagued her sister and tried to comprehend. * Blue hasn’t cried this long since...* Lace’s eyes widened and looked back at her sister again, who comforted her with soft words. Lace then understood that her mother had now really left them, and this time, it was for real. “Was daddy drunk?” She asked innocently. Bulma thought for a moment and her own eyes seem to widen in disbelief. “...No....he wasn’t.”
**************End of Flashback***********
****Flash back***
Sobbing could be heard from her parents’ room. She locked herself in her room, with the pillow over her head, trying miserably to block out the screams, which she had come accustomed to.
Painful screams and silent smiles could be heard down the hall. The small girl, only the age of 13, had to grow up in a violent and chaotic life in her home. Of course, she was rich, but money wasn’t happiness. But apparently, torture was for her father. The smacks and thuds could be heard loudly, and she was only rooms away. The disturbing sounds echoed through their large home.
She herself started to sob as her father called out her name. She ignored it, not wanting to walk over to the horrible scene she knew she was bound to see. She wiped away her unshed tears. Thankful that every time she cried, it would never leave signs of it besides the trails of it on her cheeks. She always wiped them away, so that she wouldn’t get an extra beating. “ You’re bleeding on my fucking carpet you bitch!” A sickening crack could be heard.
Her father angrily screamed her name to come over to him. She reluctantly walked down the long wide halls that she had come to nick name, death row. Her head bowed down and staring at her bare feet as she made it to the bedroom door. With the accurate hearing she had obtained from listening to low talk conversations, she pressed her ear against the door. “Come in Bulma.” Her father said in a, low toned voice.
Bulma entered, only to stifle the gasp that cried to be released from her mouth. She looked down at the floor, which had her lovely and beautiful mother, battered, bruised and surrounded in a small pool of her own blood. She made her way to get to her mother, but was pushed hard back onto the floor, where the blood had already managed to reach. Her mother whispered out softly to leave, telling her she needed to get away from the monstrosity that was her father. He stomped on her back, making her head splash into the redness of her own blood. Her blonde hair lost all of its goldness and shine, now drenched in a sad painful red.
“This will be a lesson girl.” He father started as he pulled out a large kitchen knife. “ Not to fuck with me. And to listen to what I say. Your stupid ass mother is no longer a use for me.” He said coldly. She tried to lift her self up and stagger away, but the heaviness of death was overwhelming. She cried out, ignoring the blood that slurred the words of her mouth. “ You time is now.” With that said he stabbed his spouses’ back, hitting a bone that made an unusual shattering sound. He stabbed her repeatedly, splashing little spots of blood around them, the walls, and Bulma. *Stabbing and stabbing* Those words repeated over and over in the child’s mind. The pool of blood increased.
Her blue eyes were now wide and no longer an innocent blue. But a shade of reflective red shined out with horror. “...Momma...” Bulma silently spoke, wanting to stop the madness that was her father. “Come Here.” Demanded her father. The small child hadn’t caught the words, until her father forcefully yanked her arm to him. “End her.” Was all he spoke. Bulma looked up at her father, eyes crying outly aly and not understandingly. “End her misery. Or I’ll end yours too.” He spoke with a sadistic grin. “ Do it before I give her the pleasure of drowning in her own blood.”
Bulma looked down at her mother, who tried to make eye contact with her and speak once more. But all that came out of her mouth was a gurgling sound. Her father pushed his weight of his arms onto her shoulders, forcing her down into her knees. The blood was drenching her more and more; wanting to pull her into the hell and position her mother was in. Her father offered, no. He stuffed the knife into her hand. Her small hands trembled with the weapon that was bringing her mother to her end. “ WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, DAMN IT! JUST LIKE YOUR FUCKING MOTHER. TOO STUPID TO DO ANYTHING TOLD!!! PROVE ME WRONG.” He yelled angrily, pushing her on the almost corpse body. Bulma let silent tears slid down her face and she lifted the dripping knife.
*I’m so sorry* Bulma thought and she stabbed her mother’s left side back. The knife going from behind, all the way through the heart which held so much love for her. She plunged yet again through the already pierced skin, hoping her mother would forgive her. She hoped that her mother was already dead as she heard her father laugh in his own sweet glory. She stopped stabbing once she heard her father grunt approvingly.“ So you do have your father’s blood, not including the disgusting blood drenching you at the moment.” He said sarcastically, as he smiled cruelly. Bulma looked up at him, sadness and hate showing in her teary eyes.
Her father smacked her across her face, sending her down to the stained satin floor. *Another bruise, but maybe not another day* Bulma thought sadly as she glanced over to the lifeless body that was a few feet away from hers. Blood once again splashed. For Bulma, time slowed down as the red substance that was extracted by her father swallowed her body. * You extracted it too, child* Her conscience said accusingly.
He walked over to her and picked up the knife that was laid out on the floor. She looked up at her father in disbelief. He bent down in front of her and smiled a fake acid filled smile that pierced her skin. He brushed the knife hard against his daughter’s frightful face, using her as a human cloth to wipe the murder weapon clean.
She didn’t hear her father screaming and yelling at her. Not feeling the angry kicks that were sent at her sides. *Murderer! * Her mind screamed. * It wasn’t-* *Yes it was* Her conscience told her. She didn’t know how long she stayed in that room. She screamed out, her soul, her mind, her heart, screamed out in agony. The blood was dried on her skin, but now crumbling down to the floor. Her father punched her send her into the door and onto the floor’s hallway. Burma quickly ran to her room. * Yes, child. Run. Run from your guilt* Said the voice in her mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She entered her room to find her three-year-old sister, Lace, whimpering in the corner, with a bruise on her left eye, due to the whining at the kitchen table. *That would be the last time we sat as a whole ‘family’* Bulma thought sarcastically/sadly. She walked over to her and enveloped her in her arms, comforting her. Bulma looked out her window, hating being in one place for too long. She was a girl who needed adventure; she wasn’t ignorant for her age, and neither was her sister.
She was a genius that wasn’t noticed of her abilities. She actually was the one who made Capsule Corporations for what it was. A capsule industry. She made that invention one night while sneaking into her father's lab. She made her invention and left it on the desk. Presuming he made it, her father took the entire name and glory of the capsule idea that made more than billions of dollars to both the scientist (her father) and his family. Bulma patted her sister’s long blonde hair that she HAD inherited from her mother, and dared not to look into those same blue eyes.
She needed to get out. Far away, and she didn’t need all the problems that were going on right now in her young life. Then it all registered to her. * I killed her too... My own mother... * Silent tears flowed out of the older child’s eyes, the hot watery substance landing on her sibling’s glossy hair. Her sister, feeling her head slightly moist, looked up into her sister’s eyes that held so much pain, but not the physically pain that everyone in the household was accustomed to. It was emotional pain, one that the little girl could not understand.
“ What happened to Momma?” Her sister asked fearfully. Bulma tried to hold in her cries of loss, which made her sister even more curious and afraid. Bulma rocked her sister back and forth, telling her that it was her fault too. The smaller child had no idea of what guilt plagued her sister and tried to comprehend. * Blue hasn’t cried this long since...* Lace’s eyes widened and looked back at her sister again, who comforted her with soft words. Lace then understood that her mother had now really left them, and this time, it was for real. “Was daddy drunk?” She asked innocently. Bulma thought for a moment and her own eyes seem to widen in disbelief. “...No....he wasn’t.”
**************End of Flashback***********
A/N: That was just her thinking back. In the next chapter I’ll out real details of how she is in the present time. Please review and or rate.