Hello, it's me, Big J. Sorry that I keep discontinuing things. I want you to know that it's because I get stuck. I don't usually plan fanfictions before I type them. I've asked for ideas, but I almost never get help. This story, however, I have some more ideas. If you notice I haven't updated in a month or more, please, if you can, help me out a little. I have plenty of essay experience, but not so much in storytelling. I also have some more ideas for my parody, so I may re-continue it later on, perhaps after this story.
Also, I have not seen or read the World Tournament and Babidi sagas in which this story takes place. I do know sort of what happens, such as the Spopovich vs Videl incident, Shin being a Supreme Kai, Trunks and Goten stealing Mighty Mask's costume, and Spopovich and Yamu taking Gohan's energy. As such, events will not be exactly like the anime, such as matches not being the same. Buu may or may not be revived, I'm not sure yet, but Uub will already exist, and Babidi still does. So, without further ado, I bring you Taker of Children.
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z or The Possession. However, many of the ideas are mine. This story does include some Possession spoilers, so please don't continue unless you have seen the movie.
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"So, what do you plan to do with that thing?" A man with messy black hair was talking on the phone with someone. There was a whistling sound on the other end, so he could tell the other man was driving.
"I'm going to take it somewhere no one will ever find it," returned a young man with a heavy Jewish accent. "Nobody will be able to unleash its evil ever again." He hadn't even had the time to hang up when a huge truck slammed into his car's hood from the side. He was dead before his head hit the steering wheel.
It wasn't until much later that the paramedics arrived on the scene. It was quickly confirmed that both drivers were dead. They found it odd that the truck had also been as damaged as it was; the car it ran into was small and shouldn't have been able to do that much to the larger vehicle.
One of the reporters that had been at the scene stopped asking questions when a dark glint in the road caught his eye. He walked up to it and discovered it to be an antique-looking box. It was a dark brown, nearly black, and the paint was nearly worn. The weirdest part was that it didn't have a latch to open it with.
The reporter picked it up and examined it more closely. He turned it about, his mind drifting to how much money could be made on the box. He was sure there would be a lot of buyers; the box had an air to it that made one lust for it.
"Wait 'til Hercule hears about this thing," he muttered to himself. "We can make at least 5000 zeni on this thing!" He took his phone out of his pocket, draping his left arm over the box and to his side, and pressed the button that would speed-dial the World Champ.
"Hey boss, I just found this neat box, and it looks like it could make quite a bit of money!"
"Oh, really? Well, maybe we can sell it at this year's Tournament. We'll sell it as a souvenir or something. Just tell the crowd it used to be mine and I don't need it anymore or something. Good work, boy. Now, the tournament's in a couple weeks, and I still got stuff to get ready. So, I gotta go. See ya!" The World Champ then hung up.
The reporter figured what he was doing was illegal. He was actually taking one of someone's personal belongings that could have been written in their will. He could also be taking possible evidence as to why the crash happened in the first place. Well, it would all be worth it if he got the raise he assumed he was going to get. Idiot.
,*_*,
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WELCOME TO THE 25TH TENKAICHI BUDOKAI!" The crowd of more than 14 million roared with cheers, whistles, and shouts. "THIS TOURNAMENT WILL TRULY BE ONE TO REMEMBER! MANY RETURNING CHAMPIONS ARE PARTICIPATING THIS YEAR, AS WELL AS SOME OF THEIR CHILDREN!" The cheers became much louder. They couldn't wait to see the tournament. "THE JUNIOR DIVISION WILL BEGIN IN HALF AN HOUR, SO STAY IN YOUR SEATS! SOMETHING TELLS ME THIS WILL BE ONE HECK OF A SHOW!" Man, could that Announcer rile a crowd.
Meanwhile, two families, as well as some friends, were just arriving at the entrance. Three of the men were still enjoying large snacks they brought on the trip, two young boys were arguing about who was better at fighting, and two other men were having normal conversation.
"Man, I'm so excited!" shouted a man with wild black hair. He was wearing an orange and blue uniform and had a halo atop his head. He was just finishing his last turkey leg. "I can't wait to see who else will be here. King Kai told me a really strong human was here, too!"
Another man, this one considerably shorter with flame-like hair and a blue uniform, said, as he too finished his snack, "Don't fool yourself, Kakorot. There's no such thing as a strong human. The bald one's the strongest, and he's nothing."
"Well, we don't know until we see him, Vegeta. Besides, they might be hiding their energy."
"Pfft. Wouldn't count on many humans learning how to do that."
A woman with receding black hair broke between the two bickering saiyans. "Well, Goku, I'm really glad this 'Grand Kai' person let you come back for a day."
Goku smiled at his mate. "Yeah, me too. I really missed all of you. I even got to meet Goten!" The boy mentioned, a chibi replica of his father, looked up from his argument and sheepishly smiled. He was a very energetic boy, but he was shy towards new people. Truly, though, he was glad he got to meet his father.
Goku looked back to the other man with the snack, this one the only one of the group taller than him, and said, "Gee, Gohan, you've grown." Goku paused, wishing he hadn't chosen to stay dead after all, having missed so much of his eldest son's life, and asked, "So, son, why don't you enter as Gohan? That suit looks funny on you."
Gohan, offended, said, "Hey, this costume's awesome! Besides, I'm not entering as Gohan because when I fight you or Vegeta, I'll need to become a Super Saiyan, and if I did, people would recognize me as the Gold Figther. It's much safer if I enter as Saiyaman." Vegeta, not for the first time, snickered at the silly name. Honestly, he hated how he twisted the saiyan name into... that, simply for the sake of being a 'superhero.'
The two families walked up to sign up Goten and his best friend, Trunks, also Vegeta's son, for the junior division, and Goku, Vegeta, and Saiyaman for the adult division. Tien and Yamcha weren't fighting this time. What was the point? They knew they wouldn't win.
Goten pulled on his father's pants leg. "Daddy, can me and Trunks fight with you guys? The other fights won't be any fun." He stuck out his lower lip with that expression that got Chichi to give him an extra cookie after dinner.
Goku ruffled his son's hair. "Sorry, kiddo. I wish you could. I would love fighting you and seeing how strong you were, but kids aren't allowed to fight with grown-ups here. I promise, after this, we can spar at home, okay? And remember, you're going to be fighting Trunks! That'll be fun, right?"
Goten's pout quickly became a grin oh-so-similar to Goku's. "Yeah!" Now much happier, he began looking around at all of the concession stands and such. Of course the popcorn was beginning to make him hungry, but something pulled his gaze to his right.
Clearly on display was an antique-looking box. It had chipped paint, but it had been recently polished. To Goten, the box seemed to be the most important thing in the world. He thought he could almost hear it calling his name. Gaze still transfixed on the box, he pulled Chichi with him closer to it. "Mommy, can we get that? I want it."
Chichi gave her son an odd look. Why would he want an old, worn-out box? You couldn't even do anything with it. Well, boys would be boys, and once he and Goku won, she'd be rich. Money would be no object. "Okay. How much?"
The man at the stand said, "10000 zeni." Chichi nearly fell over. 10000 zeni?! Money is no object, money is no object, money is no object...
"Fine..." she pulled the required money out of her pocket and paid the man. She then took the box and gave it to Goten. The box was almost too big for him to carry. He didn't even show it off to Trunks like he normally would; he just went to where the other junior participants were waiting and left him there.
"Hey, he didn't even show me what was so interesting about the darn thing!" he complained. He had to go wait as well anyways, so after saying 'see you later' to everyone else, he followed his best friend.
,*_*,
Trunks soon found Goten sitting on a bench in the room where the prelims were held for the adults; this room was also where the kids waited to fight. He had the box, opened, in his lap, and he was holding something small that probably came out of the box.
"Hey, Goten, watcha got there that you didn't want to show me?" No answer. "Goten?" Nothing. "Hel-looo, earth to Goten?" He leaned over Goten's shoulder and peeked at the thing he was twirling in his fingers. It was a giant, overly repulsive dead moth.
"EWWW, GOTEN, THAT'S SO GROSS, WHERE'D YOU FIND THAT?!" He peeked into the box and found that not only were there some old, weird-looking metal things and dolls, as well as a broken mirror with some carving in the back, but the box was filled nearly to the brim with dead moths. "GOTEN, THAT'S DISGUSTING!"
Finally, the chibi saiyan finally looked up at Trunks. "No it's not. It's cool. Take a look. But don't touch it."
"Fine, wasn't gonna touch it anyways! Geez..." The lavender saiyan looked in the box again, but still saw nothing but bugs and dust bunnies. "I don't get it, Goten. What's so interesting about a dusty box?"
Goten glared at Trunks. "I don't know, but it's not just a dusty box! It's not!" He hugged the box tighter to his chest, protecting it from anything Trunks might do.
"Hey, c'mon, what the heck's gotten into you?! You've been acting weird ever since you saw that thing!"
Goten relaxed. "I don't know. I just feel weird." His voice became whiny. "I don't wanna get sick! I want to fight you! Mommy's gonna make me miss it if I'm sick!"
"Oh... kay..." Trunks was confused. Was his friend just sick? That wouldn't explain why he was saying weird stuff. Maybe he was nervous. He is much stronger than Goten, after all. Yeah, that's it...
"Oh, boohoo," drawled a boy about ten feet away. "Shaddup, will ya? Aww, wait a sec. I'm fighting you first thing, huh? Well, can't be helped." He flicked Goten's nose before walking away; he and Goten were up first, and the match was going to start any minute. "Just don't cry too hard when I beat you, alright? Wahahahaha!" Then he was gone.
Goten didn't say anything. Normally, he would whine and complain about him being a bully. Instead, he just followed the boy, expressionless, still carrying his box.
Trunks was staring at his best friend as he left. What the heck is going on...?
,*_*,
Ah, yes, Trunks. What, indeed? Well, the first match is about to start, and Goten seems pretty attached to that box. What would he do when he had to separate from it? Find out in the next chapter of Taker of Children.