Chapter 7
It’s pretty sad, I have so much spare
time...*sigh* I can finally sit down and write! I feel so free and relaxed!
Actually, my butt is sore because I’ve been sitting at my computer all
day...I’m so strange! Well, whatever. I’d better start typing before I
forget all my good ideas! ^.^ Tis only a short chapter...but the action
makes up for it! Neways, on with the fic, ne?
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Trunks looked around him. He was in some strange world, one he had never
seen before. The sun beat down on his head, causing sweat to slowly trickle
down his face. Looking towards the horizon, he saw a city off in the
distance. Sighing, he took off for the town.
It seemed to be deserted, and he could make out one faint ki to the left of
him. He walked towards it, coming up to a small, deserted hut. He slowly
pushed the door open, and it made a high-pitched creaking sound. Quietly, he
walked in and looked around.
He was surprised by how small it was. It had to be half the size of his
room. There was a table in the left corner of the room, and a cubboard was
next to it. He also spotted a dirty, tattered rug in the middle of the small
space. Finally looking to the right, he saw a straw bed with a ripped sheet
covering it. A man was sitting on it, looking out the single window which
was near his bed.
The man looked as if he was in his fourties, and he had short matted black
hair. His black eyes showed a look of sadness and hardship, as well as great
wisdom. By the looks of it, Trunks could tell that he used to be a fighter,
and his tail told Trunks that he was definately Saiyan. A brim of water
lined his eyes as he sat there, motionless.
He seemed to be staring out into nothing-ness, his hands tightly grasping
something.
Trunks stepped forward, and spoke. “Hey, you.”
There was no answer. The man just continued to sit there, staring out the
window.
“Hey.” he said, louder. “I am talking to you.”
The man still did not move.
Frustrated, Trunks walked over and made a move to tap the guy one the
shoulder. “Hey, old man, I said something to—“ he was cut off by surprise as
his hand went right through the man’s shoulder. “What the--”
“I can never forgive myself...” he said, a solemn tear running down his
face.
“What?” The mysterious man turned around, walking to the table, and straight
through Trunks.
“He can’t see me...” whispered Trunks. “He doesn’t even know I’m here...I’m
just a ghost...” he said to himself.
He sat down on the chair, placing the object in front of him on the table.
“How could I leave you? I will never forgive myself...”
Trunks looked closer at the object. It wasn’t a gun, jewel, or any type of
silverware. It was just a picture frame. Just a picture frame.
As Trunks got closer to the table, he looked at the photograph in the
picture frame. He pulled back, shocked.
“What?!”
“I can’t beleive it...how could I let this happen to you...I should have
saved you...I felt your energy falter...why didn’t I come...? I’m a
failure...I should have never been your father...I’m sorry...Videl, why
couldn’t I have taken better care of our daughter?”
Trunks’ eyes widened in astonishment. That woman in the picture looked much
like Pan...except for her blue eyes. And that name...Videl...it sounded do
familiar...he knew he had heard it before...
Staring at the man’s facial features, he also noticed a strange resemblance
between Pan and this man. Was it her father? Videl, obviously the woman in
the picture, was most likely this person’s wife. Then the baby in her hands,
is that Pan? She does have the black eyes...
Wait a minute...what was he talking about, again? Something about
protection? Protecting his wife and daughter? Did something happen to them?
Questions flew through Trunks’ mind.
Were they hurt? Were they seperated? Is this just a dream, or is this a
vision? If it is, is it a vision of the present or future? Maybe both?
What’s happening to me?
“I...I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you...to teach you, Pan...my daughter...”
he whispered, another tear rolling down his cheek.
Trunks’ eyes widened, a look of horror planted on his face. “Pan! Oh no!
What happened to her! TELL ME!!!” he screamed at the man, knowing he would
never hear him.
He just continued to stare at the picture, his face a painting of sorrow for
his only family. “Why did you have to die?” he cried to himself.
As if Trunks had just been slammed into the stomach with a huge burst of
energy, his knees buckled and he sunk to the ground. He felt tears forcing
themselves upward. “No...” he whispered, “it can’t be true...you can’t be
dead Pan...” he said, feeling one light tear slide down the side of his
face.
Then, he heard a distant voice. “You! Come out of there!”
The man looked up, staring at the door. “Oh no...” He grabbed his picture
and stood up, in fighting stance.
Five or six guards rushed in, holding weapons. “Come out with your hands up
and you won’t get hurt.”
The man grinded his teeth. “I never give up with out a fight.”
“Fine, then.” said one of the soldiers, rushing to him, fist winded back.
The man disappeared and re-appeared behind the guard, slamming his elbow
into his neck, rendering him unconscious.
“Why, you, ATTACK!” called one of the guards. Speaking into his
communicator, he said, “I need back-up. We’ve got Son Gohan. He’s not going
to get away this time.”
Son Gohan. He had heard of him before. He had caused some trouble at the
slave trade post when he was a child. They said he was a super saiyan, and
it took an army of elites just to hold him down. He also remembered how he
was dealt with. They said that if he killed anyone else, they would kill his
wife and daughter. Yes...but then he got away two years later... and they’ve
been tracking him ever since.
Trunks stared at the man as he turned SS and took care of the guards with a
few swift movements. Powering down, the man called Son Gohan walked out of
the hut. With a spurt of energy, he was gone.
Trunks stared up at the sky where he once was. “So that’s Gohan, the super
saiyan. I never knew he was Pan’s father...”
Within seconds, Trunks was surrounded by a blinding light, and his eyes shut
tightly to block it out.
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Trunks opened his eyes again. He seemed to be flying over a desert-like
area, with hardly any life at all. Trunks paused and looked around.
‘Strange...’ he thought to himself, continuing to fly once more. Once he got
past the “dead zone”, he arrived to a city, and decided to fly over head. He
saw people were leaving their houses to go somewhere.
Stopping and looking around, he realized that he was in a familiar city. He
looked ahead, squinting to see in the distance. Far away, he saw a castle
looming up in the distance. “Am I...home, now?”
He flew towards the castle, frustrated by how slow he was going. Blasting to
super saiyan, he flew at full speed toward his home.
As he got closer, he saw that more people were gathering around one area. It
seemed to be stationed in the middle of the city. Stopping, he looked at the
arena in the middle of the circle of people. It seemed to be a wooden stage,
with two posts in the middle. A couple of guards were standing around the
edge of the stage, keeping the people back.
Noticing Sencres (aka: Lord Narden) and his slaves, he realized that it must
be a vision of the present or near future. He saw that Sencres was holding
back a blonde-haired slave, who was fighting to break away from him, tears
streaking down her face. ‘I wonder what’s got her all worked up...’
Looking back up towards the stage, he saw a slave being dragged up to the
podium. She struggled and kicked, trying to untangle herself from the people
grasping her. Despite her struggles, she was brought up to one of the posts
and tied to it with ki bands.
Staring harder, he realized that she looked a lot like Pan. Her blue eyes
were dark, and a rebellious look tinted her features. Intensifiying his
stare, he realized that she was the same woman in the picture that Gohan had
carried. ‘Is that Pan’s mother? Why is she being brought up here? She isn’t
going to be executed...is she?’
Narrowing his eyes, he continued to fly towards the castle. He still
couldn’t figure out why the whole city was flying towards that one area.
Once he reached the castle, he flew straight through the walls into the
throne room. He saw his father wearing formal clothing, as well as his
mother. Puzzled, he flew into the medical room, and noticed that he was
lying on a cot, his sister unconscious next to him.
‘Is that me? Was I brought here? Is my subconscious showing me this? I don’t
understand...’
Then, he heard voices down the hall. Flying through the wall (A/N: remember,
he’s basically in spiritual form right now), he followed the voices to the
dungeon corridor. He saw a figure with tattered clothes being dragged out by
ki ropes. The person’s long, black hair hung in her face as she was dragged
down the hall.
“Woman! Hurry up! I don’t have all day!” called a voice from the throne
room. ‘Dad.’
Swiveling his head around, he saw his father and his mother walk through him
towards the door, both dressed up as if for a special occasion. “What?”
To his left, the sound of heels clicking against tile resounded through the
halls, and seemed to be getting closer. Turning to see what was making the
noise, he saw Kiara walk around the corner, dressed from head to toe in
black.
Her hair was tied up tightly, black roses encircling her aqua bun. She wore
a tight black dress, which hung low in the front and covered her legs
entirely. She wore black gloves and held an electric whip, which sizzled and
cracked every second or two. Her pink eyes glisened with anxiety and her
pink lips were twisted into a smirk. The black earings and necklace that she
wore glisened in the light as she continued to walk forward.
Trunks watched her head towards the door and wait for the guards to catch
up. Smiling, she followed them through the gates and down towards the area
where everyone was gathered, the guards dragging the body close on her heal.
She stopped at the stairs, allowing the soldiers to dragg the prisoner up
the steps. Whacking her on the side of her head, she stirred, waking up
again. He sensed her trying to power up, but he noticed the ki restraint
band on her head. The guards chuckled and tied her to the post with ki
ropes.
Trunks landed on the stage and walked over to the girl, who was trying her
best to get free of the bonds.
She looked up at them, her black hair sliding out of her face. Trunks
stepped back in shock. Her obsidian eyes showed no emotion other than hate
as she glared daggers at her enemies.
“PAN!!” he yelled. “NO!!!”
Kiara stepped onto the podium, her pink eyes flashing a dark red as she
pulled a scroll out of her pocket.
“NNNNNOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Trunks screamed, blasting into super saiyan
level two. He took two running leaps and shot into the air, speeding towards
the castle. ‘There is only one way to save her, I’ve got to wake myself up!’
Everything was a blur as he zoomed towards his home. Zipping through
corridors, he screeched to a halt in front of the medical room. Running in
there, he began to scream at himself.
“WAKE UP, STUPID!!! YOUR MATE IS GOING TO BE KILLED IN ABOUT TWO
MINUTES!!!!! WAKE UP AND SAVE HER!!!!!! NNNNOOOOOWWW!!!!!!!”
There was no response as the body laid there, motionless. He tried
everything, but he just stayed there exactly the same.
Trunks then had an idea, hoping it would work, he jumped onto the cot and
lay back onto the body, sinking into it. He closed his eyes.
In a matter of seconds, Trunks’ eyes shot open and he sat up on the cot. His
mind raced as he looked around. He sat there for a few seconds before it hit
him full force and he stood up, rage burning in his eyes.
“PAN!!!!”
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BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! I am ssssooooo evil! CLIFFHANGER!!! He he he he! Now
you HAVE to review, or I won’t add the next chapter! *does little dance* De
de dum de dum dum! Bwahahahaha! Review, plz! ^.^ Oh, sorry about how late I
got it out. Hey, I still get it out by Wednesday, even though it was
11:00...hehe RxR (I’m so evil)