Haze

Pairing: VegetaxTrunks (VegetaxBulma)
Warning: Yaoi, incest, smut, non-con, violence, Vegeta POV-ish.
Notes: No matter what you think you're reading, it is yaoi. It doesn't seem like it due to the Vegeta POV-ish element. But it is, I promise. Please bear with me.

Haze

It was her fault. It was all her fault that he was this way. Her and her human weaknesses that allowed illness to win so easily. By doing so she had cast a shadow over everything he saw.

The Gravity Chamber seemed much darker now. Vegeta grunted and sweated and strained for weeks at a time, only ever stopping for a few moments to catch his breath. Then he would resume again, pushing himself harder than ever, enraged at himself for being so weak he needed that brief pause. The darkness would always come, creeping slowly into his vision, making the room dimmer. But the darkness never took him. He wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't become weak like that woman. He wouldn't be weak any more.

She had hurt her children too. Vegeta only ever saw them if they happened to pass whenever he went back and fourth to the kitchen for a drink or some sort of sustenance. Whenever he passed them he would notice little things that he couldn't help seeing from the corners of his eyes. Their faces looked tinted with grey. Their hair thinner. Their eyes sunken and dull.

The weaklings she called her friends had been hurt too. It was her fault that they came hammering on the door of his Gravity Chamber, begging him to come out. Their efforts only resulted in a barrage of insults as a reply. The door had only opened once and the result had been Yamcha losing his scarred eye. After that no one attempted entering. Eventually the pleading voices stopped.

All her fault. It was all her fault.

Most of all, it her fault that stuff was in the fridge. That horrible, vile stuff that Vegeta couldn't get enough of. As he drank it, he could feel himself becoming the weak human scum that he so despised and should have been rid of long ago.

But it was so fucking good.

When he drank it, his tongue squirmed and writhed in pain. It made his throat tighten and try to force it away from his body. But the vile liquid always slipped past and away. Into his stomach, making it churn. Into his head to make it feel light and hazy.

When it was in his head, Vegeta forgot things. Like the pain and the weakness and the rage. So he drank more and kept drinking it. Forcing more and more down his throat so that it would get into his head and take everything away. And it did. It made Vegeta forget everything.

The world became a blur. The sweat was still there. The grunting and screaming as he felt his muscles tearing were still there. The kicking and the striking against one invisible enemy after another were all still there. Because he would not become weak like her. But now the world was also filled with a delightful haze that made it easier to bear. The drink became his lifeline and he clung to it, knowing that he would become weak and die if he didn't.

One day he almost did. One night he discovered that the fridge was empty of the bottles which would be surrounded by a halo from the light. The surrounding halo that illuminated the green glass and made the liquid inside shine. The light spilled out onto Vegeta's face, showing him the small stack of yogurts, the half-gone packet of cheese, the plastic tray of vegetables. But not the drink.

"We're not buying anymore," came a voice from the door. A voice that was familiar and scratched at a name at the back of his head. But he couldn't quite reach it.

Looking up and over the fridge door, he saw Trunks. Of course. Trunks. His son. The very symbol of the human weakness that woman had put upon him.

"You'd better tell me where I'll find more," Vegeta said, standing and swinging the fridge door shut, making the large appliance rattle. "I'm not searching through this whole fucking kitchen like some desperate hobo. Where is it?"

"There isn't any," said Trunks, puffing out his chest, trying to make himself appear to be something Vegeta wouldn't get past. But his father could see through the act, shredding it as though it were a paper puppet.

"We hardly see you anymore. Is this your way of dealing with it? What would mum think if she could see you like this?"

"If she was that weak, she deserved to die."

There was a flash of hurt and rage across Trunks' eyes. Then another in the form of a burst of white as his son punched him hard across the face. He thought he heard a scream that kept echoing in his head.

Then, in half a second, it was over. Vegeta's vision returned and he turned his head back, spitting out a mouthful of blood and two teeth as he did. Trunks stood before him, his eyes as wide as a fawn caught in the headlights of a speeding ten-ton truck. His fist was still clenched and held in front of him, trembling just as the rest of his body did.

Vegeta smirked. The sight made Trunks' lips pull back in a fearful grimace.

There was a crack as Vegeta's hand smacked into Trunks' cheek, forcing his body to leave the floor and fly across the room. He crashed into a cupboard and crumbled to the floor in a shower of crockery that smashed around him.

"Fucking weakling," Vegeta spat at his son. "You want something done, do it yourself."

Five minutes later Vegeta had left the house for the first time in many months. Or it could have been years. Time had been lost to Vegeta from the moment he had received the news of Bulma's death. He had let time go, no longer caring for it. Time was for humans and humans were weak.

It was dark and it was cold. It could have been any season at all. Vegeta didn't know and neither did he care. All he registered was that it was dark and that he was going to walk until he found the first place where he could find drink in bulk.

Barely a few streets had been walked until he found it. A small supermarket with the lights still on yet without a shred of human life within. A foolish thing, Vegeta decided. Leaving the lights on to show off what it had to steal. It was the perfect invitation.

The sound of the alarms tore through his eardrums as soon as his fist went through the glass. It shattered, distorting his vision of what lay beyond. But it was now weak enough for him to walk through, brushing the glass away as he strolled the aisles.

Boxes and boxes were piled into his arms. He didn't look at brands, just knew that he was loading himself with the vile sweetness of liquor. There are at least fifty boxes being held before blue flashes started to appear on the walls and the sound of sirens mixed with the wail of the store alarm.

Vegeta laughed. If the humans only knew who he was, they wouldn't come near. They wouldn't even look at him, none of them. Just bow their heads and hope that he allowed them to continue breathing.

There was another flash of blue from one of his outstretched fingers and the police lights vanished. The sirens faded as flames consumed them and the officers inside the cars.

And so began Vegeta's obsession. He only left the Gravity Chamber to seek out where he could find more of the liquor that was fit for a powerful prince such as him. Some tried to stop him but it was always the last thing they ever did. Fleets of heavily armed officers were obliterated into nothing more than charred remains. It wasn't long before he appeared as the number one on every wanted list. Vegeta didn't see it. He had no idea what was going on in the world. He didn't care. He had his strength and it was always building. It had to keep building so that he wouldn't become weak and die like she had. And he had the wonderful drink.

His children saw. But he didn't see them because whenever he emerged from the Gravity Chamber they would make themselves scarce. The incident with Trunks in the kitchen had turned them into cockroaches, scuttling away whenever the door of the Gravity Chamber opened to spill light into the hallway and let Vegeta out.

The two Briefs heirs also knew what happened every time someone sent a team to try and capture Vegeta once they discovered where he lived, an easy task considering that the Saiyan was never subtle about his getaways. They never watched the events, always running to hide wherever they could. But, no matter how far away into the complex they went or how hard they pressed their hands over their ears, nothing could block the sounds of screaming and explosions as one capture operation after another were destroyed.

Time kept passing. It could have been weeks, months, years. Vegeta didn't know, nor did he care. All he knew was that it was passing, something that was signified by the way the empty bottles and cans of his drink built up on the floor. They would all become crushed by the almost unbearable gravity or by Vegeta's own actions. They all turned into fragments to litter the entire floor and shimmer whenever a ki blast was released from the prince's body.

Capsule Corporation's reputation was also shattered into fragments that could never be fixed. The remaining employees were made redundant the day Trunks made the hard decision to completely terminate it. But, with Vegeta's actions, there was no way he could save his mother's legacy. What he had done also made it harder for Trunks and Bra to find employment elsewhere. Nobody wanted to hire the spawn of such a savage beast.

But Vegeta stayed within his alcohol-induced haze. Years later, he couldn't imagine any other life. In his small Gravity Chamber, littered with broken glass and cans, he was the ruler. The prince. The king. The god. He was eternal and so he would rule forever. Sometimes they tried to de-throne him, but they were human. They were weak. Just like her. They were weak so they were destroyed. Like her. He was the only one who wasn't weak. He wouldn't die because he wasn't weak like her.

One day the door opened again. Vegeta turned, a ball of light ready in the palm of his hand to tirelessly be rid of whoever was mad enough to defy him. It flickered and died.

His vision was covered by a film of mist. It had been for years, but he was certain of what he saw.

Long hair tied back. It looked thin and somewhat unkempt compared to what he vaguely remembered. The body didn't look quite right and baggy clothes hung from it. But those eyes were unmistakable. Those big blue eyes.

"Bra left this morning. She says she can't take you anymore. Did you even notice? Do you even care?"

The voice was only an echo in his ears. But it still sounded so familiar.

"... come ... back..."

Vegeta advanced on the figure with blue eyes. Reached out to touch her. The blue eyes went wide and the figure tried to back away. But was stopped in her tracks when he grabbed her arm and pulled her forward.

There was a soft hiss as the door slid shut, a detail that only passed through Vegeta's mind for half a second. She raised her other fist and tried to strike him. But he caught that arm too. Just like he had always done when she played rough.

He kissed her, savagely and deeply. When she tried to scream, her open mouth provided the perfect opportunity for him to shove his tongue past her teeth. He felt her own try to push it away, but he was stronger. Vegeta had always been stronger. Because he wasn't human, therefore not weak.

Still the figure continued to scream and struggle. She knew how much he loved such things. Biting her bottom lip hard, Vegeta drew blood and sucked on it. It was as good as the alcohol and caused a dizziness of its own to explode inside his head.

He felt his tattered, sweat-laden shorts become tighter.

There was more screaming and tugging from the figure but all to no avail. Every passing second heated his body and plunged his mind further into a dizzying vortex. She kept screaming, she kept struggling, she kept trying to strike him. And she knew just how much he loved it.

Then a louder scream echoed off the walls as he took his fill of the blood from her lips and swung her body to the floor. There was a crunch as the body made contact with the glass that littered the tiling without leaving the slightest gap. It tore through the clothing with its sharp edges and sliced into flesh. Had it been a small handful of fragments, it would have been no more painful than a bad bite. But thousands upon thousands hitting at once blinded those blue eyes with pain.

But before anything could be done about it, Vegeta was on the body, tearing off clothing as she yelled and thrashed underneath him. Blood spilled and scraps of clothing started to soak it up as they were tossed carelessly aside.

The body beneath didn't look normal. Not what he remembered. But Vegeta knew that the alcohol had given him new eyes. Eyes that made him see things through a mist. But he still wanted to remember what she had looked like, so he dug down into the depth of his memory. He reached down into what he had buried long ago and thrown away the key to. He tore open the door and stole what he himself had forbidden. His memories of her.

They merged with the writing mass of flesh beneath him. He saw the smooth, pale flesh, the hair that, when long, would fall over her shoulder and between her breasts that fit so well into the palms of his hands. Vegeta hated himself for giving in to something so human as desire. Humans were weak. But he wanted what he saw.

In this realm, he was the prince, the king, the god. He wanted, he took.

And so he did. Forced the figure's legs apart, with some difficulty. She was stronger than he remembered in her reluctance. But Vegeta just dismissed it as a game. As an attempt to drive his senses past insanity with her games that were damn well working. As a result, his actions became more frantic. Every time the figure tried to get back up, he pushed her back down and ground that body into the glass-littered floor. There were crunches and screams. The glass cut into her chest, her legs, her arms. It tore through the figure's face when he rubbed it into the glass. It was shredded almost beyond recognition. Almost. Because those blue eyes were still there. Still wide and fearful.

The figure was on its front, just as she had fallen. Into the preferable position. Vegeta took one buttock firmly in one fist, squeezing it and forcing it further from the other. There was more screaming, more thrashing. But nothing that he could not handle. Even if she did seem a little bit stronger, relentless and non-stop training for unknown years had made him a more powerful Super Saiyan than he could even imagine himself.

It was a relief when he shredded his own clothing that still encased his thighs. It was an even greater relief when he thrust his hips forward, forcing himself inside the tight body. The scream was horse as it ripped from a strained and bloodied throat. But it was louder and held a terror that Vegeta had not heard for so many years. The bloodlust that had built inside him bubbled over and he was grinding the figure's face into the broken glass. Making sure that it was torn and shredded when he tugged at the long hair to force her back up. The screaming had stopped. Instead her mouth hung open, blood running freely from a ragged tongue. Her blue eyes were still there.

Vegeta pulled himself over her body, putting his weight upon the figure to crush it down a little more into the glass. He licked what had once been a cheek, savouring the sensation that came with her blood mixing with his own as the glass that had been stuck to her flesh ripped at his tongue. It was something he became ravenous for, licking and biting at whatever he could reach from the shattered face.

The taste of blood and mangled flesh invaded his senses along with the almost unbearable warmth that gathered in his groin as he pushed himself as far into the figure as he could. With each forceful thrust an animalistic desire grew. He wanted to go deeper. So he forced himself in more and more. Blood started to run again as he continued to tear away at her body.

His hips became insane with a mind of their own. They moved with the ferocity of a ravenous beast tearing at its first meal within years. A tension built within his whole body, a tension that he felt would only be satisfied if he made his movements faster and deeper.

Then there was a burst of warmth and Vegeta threw his head back and screamed. He screamed with desire, with want, with longing, with pain. The blood that came from the torn flesh within the figure's body became tinted with white.

He did not withdraw from the form beneath him. Nor did he stop feasting upon the blood and torn flesh that he had created with his fragmented floor.

---

Bra Briefs had left the country. No one knew where she was, but it was highly suspected that she had altered her appearance and assumed a completely new identity to escape the connection people put between her and the savage beast she had once called daddy.

Trunks Briefs vanished without a trace as well. It was thought that he had gone abroad and changed his identity as well. The only ones who knew the truth were the Son family, living out beyond the reach of the city and its watchful press. Going out early in the morning to collect firewood, Goku had discovered a naked and bloodied body passed out on the doorstep. Only when they had washed some of the hair had they recognised the form as Trunks. Knowing enough about how the rest of the world now viewed the Briefs family, ChiChi had spent a day and a sleepless night tending to all his wounds. Goku helped where he could, spending most of that time in the corner of the room holding his youngest son, who couldn't say a word past his fits of hysterical tears.

Vegeta remained in his haze. The efforts to capture and destroy him were eventually given up as the body count quickly reached thousands. The only advice anyone could give was to leave any food and alcohol when you saw him near. Leave it and get under cover as best you could. Do not challenge him in any way. Don't even look at him. Hold your breath if you could. If you were lucky, you would live.

END