Tears of Blood

A short drabble that I hope everyone enjoys reading. This takes place after the end of DBZ, but without including the events in DBGT into the mix. I know this isn’t much, but hopefully it’s a start or inspiration to write more DBZ stories.

Feedback of any kind is always welcome and appreciated.

Rock exploded from the mountains, rolling down the steep sides and into a deep rift that tore through the ground. Vegeta looked up at the red sky; tears of blood ran down his face while he watched the demise of the Earth—he didn’t bother to wipe the wet off his face, choosing to ignore the salty scent. Puffs of dark black smoke billowed from the giant craters left in the ground, an unfortunate consequence from battle. The red that colored the sky came from volcanic eruptions from the Earth’s core. In a matter of minutes everything would burn and then the Earth would explode.

Vegeta’s fists clenched together, the memory of the past few days coming back to him. He wished he could forget—he needed to forget—then the memories of his family and the scum who killed them could no longer haunt him. They had come only a few days ago, the vicious beasts of destruction; everything happened so quickly. They had no warning, no time to prepare or train their bodies to be stronger. They moved quick and smooth, effectively wiping out anyone who tried to stop them, the human Z fighters among the first to go. Then their sons until only two of them remained.

Everyone died; no one could help him. Even Kakarot’s power proved inadequate enough to stop the aliens that tore through the planet in hopes of destroying everything in their way. Not even Kakarot survived, and yet, somehow he still lived even though he wasn’t as powerful. He, the Prince of Saiyans, and outcast on Earth, not even second in strength, lived. He lived because Kakarot protected his life, valuing it over everything else and had even managed to destroy the threat, but at a terrible cost. The sentiment left a bittersweet feeling in his chest. He lived to see it all, just like always, unable to stop the furious motion of death and destruction while the few people he actually cared for this time, became mere memories of a lost life.

What was the point of living when his mate lie a few feet away, dead, body broken beyond recognition., all the skin and hair burned off Kakarot’s scalp—hair he ran his fingers through only a few days ago while their bodies lie tangled together, satiated. Was that his fate, to live long enough to see the destruction of two worlds he called home, to be powerless to stop it?  Vegeta looked down at the scorched Earth, clenching his fists and grinding his teeth together. Even with the enemy destroyed, he could do nothing to change the outcome, the dragon balls reduced to stone, broken into fragments of stone and dust. If only he had the power to change things, to change everyone’s fate—he would do it without a second thought. He no longer lived for death and destruction.

He wanted it to end; he wanted peace. Nothing else would satisfy him, the Prince of Saiyans finally ready to die. With Dende dead and no way to escape before the earth blew up, there’d be no way to bring anyone back. He would rather die and see Kakarot in Other World or in another life.

Vegeta stepped forward, towards another explosion, closing his eyes, feeling the bloody tears dry against his cheek; he stood still, his heartbeat steadily slowing down, his breathing calm, waiting for the inevitable.