Tainted Soul

Chapter 1: The nightmare begins.

By Cremrock

A nine year old Son Gohan, clad in an orange shirt and blue suspenders; skipped happily along the weathered, dusty mountain path; humming a gentle tune; while the path seemed to almost sparkle in the fading sunlight. Besides him followed his trusted friend and companion, the Haiyaa Dragon- The lavender colored, chubby little winged creature was adorned with a long green ribbon and a bell that Gohan had found somewhere. It would squeal now and again as it would stop to admire the lush greenery around them before realizing that Gohan had already skipped along another couple of meters. The duo was about three miles away from Gohan’s home, and rather then fly, which wouldn’t have really enabled them to admire the forested beauty that aligned the path, (Not to mention putting undue strain on the Haiyaa Dragon’s wings,) the child had boldly proclaimed that they would walk.

Granted, it might get dark, and Gohan’s overprotective mother, Chi-chi, might get a little angry, but there are some things in life worth getting in trouble for, and besides, she wouldn’t stay angry for long. Silently, a pair of eyes watched the two of them from among the treetops, stealthily following them.

It wouldn’t be very fun for that kid if he knew I was following him like this." Piccolo, warrior and demon-king, silently chided himself from his position among the trees as he observed quite possibly the only person he truly considered a friend, Son Gohan, skip along the path. He allowed himself a slight smirk as he realized that the child was humming instead of whistling, as if he expected his mentor might be nearby. A moment later, to Piccolo’s surprise, Son Gohan stopped and glanced all around a moment. He meandered off the road and peeked into a nearby bush. "What’s that kid doing now… oh, that pet of his isn’t beside him anymore… the thing probably just went off to get something to eat…" Piccolo concluded. He was tempted to leap down from the treetops and surprise the child, certain he would receive an enthusiastic, "Piccolo-san!" But ultimately decided he’d only be keeping the kid from getting home quicker. "Take care of yourself kid… I’ll be around if you need me." He thought, and sneaked away as Gohan continued looking for his friend.

Piccolo found he was standing still a scant half a mile away, face frozen in an expression of appreciation. The beauty of the sun slowly dipping over the horizon was entrancing him. It was the same sunset he saw almost every day, but it never changed the fact that it was one of the most beautiful things he ever got to witness, one of the bright spots in his normally drab daily routine of meditating, training, and the occasional visit from Gohan. Slowly, the intricate dance between red-hot orb, burning sky, and sparkling mountains subsided, as the darkness of nighttime began to overtake the sky. A slight breeze whistled around him, lifting his large white cape off the ground and ruffling it slightly along his back. He sniffed the air. Though Nameksei-jin didn’t have any better a sense of smell then a normal human did, Piccolo had learned to pick up a few things, notably because he had lived nearly his entire life in the wilderness.

The smell startled him. It was the smell of decay. He sniffed again. "A fresh kill, whatever did it. A shame, now I’m going to have to smell it the entire night. Either that or find whatever’s stinking up the place and destroy or bury it." He sighed. At least it would give him something to do besides meditating. He didn’t want to admit it to anyone, not even to himself, but he, Piccolo, the person who didn’t need anybody, was bored. He turned away from the cliff he had been standing on and walked into the woods, intent on finding the source of the offending odor. After a few moments of walking and trying to determine where the smell was the strongest, a trail of broken branches and trampled underbrush practically leaped out at him from the left. "Must have been some kind of chase… ever odder, since the predators aren’t very active at night…" As Piccolo was sure he would inevitably find, a faint trail of dried blood further defined the path, as the branches and underbrush became even more ragged and trampled as before. "Of course, the prey must’ve been panicked at this point…" What began to surprise Piccolo was that the blood trail didn’t just continue, it began to grow wider and wider, as if rather then finish it’s prey, the hunter had just continued to open more wounds. As if to reflect this change, though it was clear the creature had been fighting for it’s life, judging by the broken branches, they appeared less frequent… clearly this creature had been getting weaker. He saw something on the ground ahead of him, covered with dry yet still slightly sticky blood. He kneeled to examine it. It was a wing. A purple wing about the size of his two hands put together. "It’s more reptilian then a bird wing, but it’s not large enough to be a dinosaur… a baby? I’ve seen wings like these before, on…"

Piccolo suddenly became aware that there was a shadow playing over him in the faint moonlight… a moment later, he felt a small drop of oddly lukewarm liquid touch the back of his neck. It was then he gazed up at the treetops above, and for one of the few times in his life, he gasped in disgust at the sight of what he saw. For it sickened even one as battle hardened as he. Hanging above him, with one wing severed, an eye that had apparently been gashed; with a small dribble of vitreous fluid oozing out even now; entrails and ribs easily visible through a large hole in it’s side, the jaw/beak snapped and twisted, was a dead Haiyaa dragon. Piccolo scowled at the horrible display. Such mutilation could only be done by a being that was intelligent, as nothing that killed for food would do such a thing… or have the appendages to leave it hanging in a tree once the vile defecation had been done.

"A very cruelly thinking intelligent person, at that." Piccolo thought, eyes locked on the intact eye of the dragon, that even in death was frozen in a display of horror, a permanent window into the land of the dead. He reached up to cut the creature down from it’s tresses, and gasped in shock again as he realized what the creature was hanging from. It was a ribbon. A bloodstained, green ribbon. With a bell on the bottom for good measure. He stared at it in horror for several moments, the reality of it slowly sinking in. He scarcely heard the wet thump of it crashing to the ground as he cut the ribbon. He was still staring in disgust and anger. That was when he noticed that the darkened cliff nearby seemed to be oozing some kind of liquid, and he made a small ball of ki and held it up to the cliff. There were three words, written in crimson lettering. Piccolo didn’t need to guess what type of ink the letters were really made out of.

"You failed me." He said out loud, reading the letters and cupping a hand to his chin to ponder this evil deed. He looked over his shoulder at the poor dragon yet again, and let his hands fall to his sides before tightening them into fists. It seemed this horrible spectacle could only be meant for one person. Son Gohan.

"Gohan… I’ll find out who did this and make them pay… for this needless killing, and for the sadness I know you are going to feel when you find out about this…" He knelt down next to the dragon, hoping to find clues. He was very glad Gohan wasn’t here right now. He didn’t know the dragon or have much, if any, attachment to it, but he knew it truly brightened the life of his student. Or rather, had. He was just about to summon forth a ki blast to give it a proper burial when a single sound erupted from somewhere fairly far away.

"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!…."

The sound snapped him out of his thoughts and sent him hurtling into the air. Because he recognized that scream, even pain-filled and as far away as it was. It was Son Gohan. He glanced around frantically, looking for smoke, sensing for ki, craters, glints of light, and any sign that would hint about the whereabouts of the child.

"Where is he?! I can’t even sense his ki!" Piccolo’s panicked thoughts pounded into his head, even as he continued scanning the landscape, more slowly now, so that his well trained eyes could pick out any detail that could hint to his student’s location.

"GOHAN! WHERE ARE YOU?!" He bellowed. He knew that such a scream would kill any chance of surprising whoever or whatever might be harming the child, but the scream had sounded desperate… he could deal with a straight-out fight… he couldn’t deal with his friend’s death. Uttering a curse as no reply was heard but an echo, he clenched his eyes shut and concentrated. If there weren’t any easily detectable large ki’s around, perhaps Gohan’s was among the small ones. He willed himself to concentrate, and then… "There!"

Not surprisingly, power flashed all around him, and a moment later Piccolo was hurtling through the air as fast as his ki could carry him to the spot where he had felt a decidedly less then human ki.

As the scorched earth below him crackled from the weight of his two feet landing, Piccolo was already surveying the area rapidly, on alert.

"Gohan! Where are you?" He shrieked. There was no answer, save for the chirping of cicadas and the normal nightly sounds, which resumed a moment after Piccolo’s scream. Piccolo was truly beginning to worry. He’d always taken it for granted that he’d be around Gohan and be able to keep him from harm…

"Dammit, why’d I have to watch that sunset…I should have stayed closer to him!" Piccolo chided himself. That was when Piccolo heard a slight rustling sound and spun around, his eyes widening at what he saw. Lying curled up into a ball, next to a small; blackened crater; presumably a fire pit, was Gohan, his back towards his mentor. He looked as if he was sleeping. Piccolo instantly felt relieved.

"He must’ve gotten lost and fallen asleep out here… doesn’t explain the scream… maybe he had a nightmare? At any rate, I’d better get you home, kid… I’ll tell you about the dragon later…" Piccolo muttered softly. He bent down over Gohan, to get a better look at him, and as the moonlight played off his face he…

…let loose a nerve shattering scream that conveyed all sorts of emotions, rage, injustice, sorrow, hatred, but most of all… grief. The child was seemingly staring up at him, a bewildered expression permanently etched on his face, but Piccolo knew from his eyes and the odd angle of his neck that he wasn’t staring at anything, now. Overcome, Piccolo fell to his knees and began weeping softly for the first time in his life, as he cradled the child to his chest, eyes streaming tears.

"G…Gohan…" Was the only word he managed to croak, his entire resolve and world flipped completely upside down with one realization. Son Gohan was dead. In the awful silence save for his own sobbing, the child’s head lolled loosely downwards.

A moment later, a faint, oddly familiar chuckle echoed from the treetops above. Piccolo gazed up at the origination of the sound and swallowed quickly, trying unsuccessfully to mask his emotion, as he laid the child’s body gently to the ground, attempting to steal himself for a confrontation. No one would chuckle at the death of a child and be in such close vicinity, unless they had done it themselves.

"Am… am I to assume that… you’re the… monster that… did this?" Piccolo stammered, trying to work up his rage, but in reality his heart was completely shattered. The figure in the treetops; Piccolo still hadn’t been able to see his face; nodded, and Piccolo saw the glint of moonlight off of a shiny, toothy grin. It was the most difficult thing for him to do in the world, but oddly enough, Piccolo smiled a very thin lipped smile even as he shuddered again, fighting the urge to grieve in front of this new opponent. "G…good… I was hoping to tear my student’s killer apart with my bare hands…"

The figure laughed coldly at the reference to himself and leapt down to the ground, and Piccolo choked in disbelief when he saw who the figure was. Standing well above six feet tall, with a very familiar face… for it was Piccolo’s own. The doppelganger, as Piccolo decided to refer to him as, having been given no name to call this monster, continued to small, laughing now and again. "Don’t laugh! You’re about to feel the pain of hell itself." Piccolo screamed. The doppelganger nodded in amusement.

"There you go pretending again, failure. You want to kill me, eh?" He said coldly, his voice gruff and haggard, much like Piccolo’s own. Piccolo’s only reply was to strip off his turban and mantle and toss them to the side, where they landed on the blackened ground with a dull thud, a testament to the heavy materials they were made of. Piccolo clenched his fist and glared, his sadness already being replaced with one desire… to kill this person. The doppelganger cackled again as he noticed Piccolo’s face tightening in rage. He made a gesture not unlike that of a chauffeur opening a door, except he was indicating himself. "If you want to try and defeat yourself, be my guest. But you’re going to die." The doppelganger replied coolly.

That was enough for Piccolo, as he charged. The figure sidestepped his predictable opening attack, and cracked him hard in the jaw with a single punch. Piccolo pushed off the ground and rolled away, springing to his feet and launching a ki blast with incredible speed. The doppelganger deflected it with a mere flick of the wrist, taunting Piccolo. Piccolo clenched his teeth and glared.

"Is that the best you have, monster?" He snarled. The doppelganger smiled.

"No. But before you die, I’ll give you one caveat to chew on. I didn’t kill Son Gohan, oh no no no." The figure indicated himself again with a Nameksei-jin hand, and then pointed directly at Piccolo, smiling. "We did." Piccolo couldn’t ask for an explanation as the doppelganger dashed forward with blinding speed and smashed Piccolo in the gut, the air escaping from his opponent’s lungs. The blow was so sudden and hard, that Piccolo almost didn’t feel the blow, only it’s aftereffects. A moment later the doppelganger blurred out of existense and appeared behind him, snapping into his back with a powerful kick, sending the Nameksei-jin warrior hurtling towards the ground. Piccolo tasted dirt in his mouth as he collided face-first, rolling away moments before a stomp that would surely have shattered his neck imprinted in the ground occupied his former position. Piccolo propelled himself off the ground with his ki, foot outstretched in a powerful kick that would surely shatter the skull of a normal person. The figure blocked it with ease, caught his leg, and threw Piccolo back to the ground, slamming him once for good measure. He gazed down at Piccolo, eyes ablaze with contempt and a hint of excitement. "That child was harder to kill then you, and I crushed him as I would a kitten!" He said sharply, taunting his victim.

At the sound of a reference to Gohan, Piccolo leapt to his feet and began throwing punches with renewed determination and rage. The doppelganger merely smiled and allowed the punch to connect with his face. A moment later Piccolo punched the doppelganger square in the nose again, and kicked him as well. In mere moments the wind created by the incredible speed of Piccolo’s blows kicked up a cloud of dust as he became a green, pink, and purple blur. A few moments later, the sound of flesh pounding on flesh subsided, as the dust began to drift away in the wind. Piccolo was wheezing, bent over and staring at the ground completely drained by his endeavors but confident he had ground this monster into a fleshy pulp. He looked up as the last of the dust cleared and… his mouth fell wide open in shock. Standing there, looking none the worse for wear, was the doppelganger, his arms crossed, that vile little smirk that he knew all too well because it was Piccolo’s own etched onto his face.

"H… how… not even Freezer would be able to withstand an attack like that…I hit on EVERY blow!" Even as Piccolo was contemplating this bizarre and terrifying turn of events, the doppelganger acted. One moment he was standing in front of Piccolo, and the next, Piccolo only felt the impact of a uppercut with incredible force behind it cracking him on the chin and sending him flying into the air, dazed and unable to move. As he struggled to focus his ki, turn himself around, bring his hands up to defend himself, he felt a brutal double fisted blow on his back, sending him falling back down to Earth with before landing with a crash that shook the nearby mountains. Even as he struggled to get to his knees, coughing up blood, he was determined not to give up. "I have to keep fighting… I can’t…give up now…" Piccolo thought vainly. He struggled to his feet, and that was his last mistake. He shook his head to clear it, and by the time he spun around, realizing the doppelganger was standing several meters behind him, it was too late.

His surprise was so great; he barely heard the doppelganger scream, "MAKANKOSAPPO!"

"My god…" Was the only thing Piccolo could think as the corkscrew shaped beam spiraled directly through his chest, yet he somehow kept his footing. Piccolo felt little pain, only a dizzying numbness before slowly glancing down in disbelief at the ragged hole in his chest. He crumpled to the ground, as a cut down tree would, dazed mind racing with the irony of being struck down by his very own attack. In another ironic twist, as he landed and slowly rolled to his side, he found he was gazing directly into his student’s dead eyes, the bewildered expression on the child’s face not having changed one bit. He felt a shudder run through him as his brain and body began to catch up with the fact that his spinal cord was severed and that his lungs were almost completely burned away… soon he too would be staring into nothingness.

Out of the corner of his rapidly fading peripheral vision, the doppelganger loomed up beside him, grinning triumphantly. He knelt down and spoke directly into Piccolo’s ear, so that he was certain the dying Nameksei-jin would hear his last words.

"Remember failure, I didn’t kill Gohan. We did. And I’ll be right with you to do it again." Piccolo raised his head a fraction of an inch, still trying to demand an explanation, but only managing a slight croak. A moment later his head dropped back down, and his vision became a dizzying array of colors before swirling into a dull monochrome orb, shrinking and shrinking… And then there was only the blackness of death as his body stiffened...

Piccolo groaned as he felt something warm, wet, and oddly soft continually caressing his right cheek. Slowly, he took in the sound of heavy breathing right next to him and the chirping of birds in the distance. He opened his eyes wondering what was going on… and found himself staring into two huge, placid looking liquid eyes. As a soft, slobbery pink blur loomed up over his vision.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-!" He screamed, rolling out of his hammock (He had accomplished this by tying his cape to two nearby trees) and crashing to the ground a meter below as the owner of the eyes leaped back.

"EEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The Haiyaa dragon squealed, rearing back in surprise at Piccolo’s reaction. Piccolo glanced at the dragon, which had been licking the sweat off of his face, and stared at the ground, ignoring his shock for the moment.

"It… was all a dream." He gasped, glaring again at the dragon as he pulled on the top of his gi, which had been lying on a pile of leaves. Finishing this, he untied his cape-turned hammock and wrapped it around his shoulder guards before pulling it over his head. He shivered for a moment, suddenly realizing that he felt dizzy. He wasn’t sure he knew why.

It had been the tenth night in a row he had had this nightmare, although the circumstances were always different, they all had two things in common… the doppelganger, and Son Gohan’s death. Each one had also had the same grisly theme, he finding Gohan’s dead body, battling the doppelganger, the doppelganger uttering the same nonsense about how he was a failure and that they had killed Gohan. He shuddered again as he realized there was only one difference between this dream and the rest… this time the doppelganger had won. He found it hard to believe that he could still remember every vivid detail of each dream, but he did. In the first dream the doppelganger had easily been vaporized by a ki blast… in the ninth he had been forced to summon forth all of his ki in a battle won by sheer will, and now… It was not a comfortable feeling.

"Baka. They’re just nightmares, they don’t mean anything." Still, despite his rational thoughts and evil logic, the dreams had been battering away at him, both mentally and physically. He hadn’t been able to feel rested for quite some time. He had already pondered asking someone for advice, but he would NEVER request, or even accept if it were offered to him, help from his counterpart, the Kami of Chikyuu. Unconsciously, his hand twitched again, and he noticed it this time. "Fool, you just feel bad because you haven’t had anything to drink." He walked to where a small, clear spring was a few meters away from what he could consider his "home", and bent down to take a drink from it.

A moment later he flipped head over heels as the Haiyaa dragon, neglected and wanting attention, butted him in the… well, butt and sent him tumbling into the cool, shallow water. The dragon’s tail wagged mischievously as it squealed with glee. Son Gohan had always enjoyed this game, and though the dragon didn’t know Piccolo very well, it had exhibited some of that "animal empathy" and was trying to cheer him up. Piccolo burst from the pond, his face contorted in shock and rage, even as the dragon squealed again as it felt the cool splash of the water trickle down it’s dry, smooth body. It shook it’s head playfully, daring Piccolo to bend down for another drink, but stopped suddenly as it looked at the expression on Piccolo’s face. This wasn’t the happy, giggly look of Son Gohan, but the wild, anger filled face of a monster.

"You… you little… IF YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN, I’LL FLAY YOU ALIVE, UNDERSTAND?!" Piccolo bellowed. The dragon hung it’s head and fell to the ground as if in apology before beginning to crawl away. Piccolo scowled and turned back towards the lake. Unconsciously, his hand began to tremble again, as he bent down to take a drink… and flipped head over heels again as the dragon rammed him again, having worked up it’s courage. The dragon shrieked as Piccolo emerged from the water again, eyes ablaze, and hand’s held together, palms outwardly facing the dragon.

"YOU FOOL!" A moment later Piccolo’s hand’s glowed as his Masenko attack began to fly at the dragon. The dragon’s eyes grew wide as the blast came closer and closer. Piccolo’s thoughts hammered into his head.

"WHAT AM I DOING?! I’ve got to stop it!" Piccolo fought with desperate focus and managed to direct the blast in an upward arc, just scorching the dragon’s backside before exploding harmlessly several meters above them. The dragon shrieked in pain and scampered off into the woods, terrified. Piccolo brought his hand’s to eye level and stared at them in disbelief.

"What was I doing.. it’s as if I wasn’t in control of myself… I was angry, but not angry enough to…" Piccolo’s voice broke off as he felt a shudder pass through him.

Then, oddly enough, and for no apparent reason, he shook slightly again, and then trembled some more, as a faint chuckle emerged from his lungs… before erupting into a harsh, full scaled laugh.

…The nightmare was just beginning…

Special thanks to Tomo for answering some one of the most uncommonly asked questions in the book, pre-reading it, etc. etc. ^^  And for posting it, of course.  Thanks!