IVY'S CELL

Summary: A girl called Ivy faces the devastation of her hometown caused by Perfect Cell. All her beloved ones are dead. She seeks revenge, although she knows she can't stand a chance. When they meet, Cell is amused and makes a strange proposal to her. Will she take it?

Disclaimer: I do not own DGZ, any of its characters or anything related to the series. I'm just writing this for fun. Ivy is only a character I've made up.


Chapter 1: The Scar

"You must be kidding me, Cell."

My feminine voice is completely serene and devoid of weakness, even though I'm standing in front of the most dreadful monster that has ever set foot in our planet: Perfect Cell. Since his first appearance and throughout all our daily lives, several cities have surrendered to his might and no one seems to be able to face him.

Wherever he goes, he leaves a trail of destruction, blood and loss.

Although he doesn't seem to need anything or no one in particular like at all due to his great power, he has just made the most foolish proposal ever – to me, a girl with ragged clothes who happened to live here, the city he has just now reduced to ruins and ashes with such an ease that it makes me shiver.

What are his limits? Does he know them?

Cell stares at me as I give him my answer, as I said, completely serene and devoid of weakness. He just chuckles at my answer. I must admit that my voice now sounds a bit magnified in this old, half-destroyed church, now devoid of both holiness and people – and I suddenly realize I'm now also devoid of strength and ideas… He is now staring at me intensely, standing in front of me on what had formerly been an altar, crushing a beautifully ornamented golden cross under his feet, as his eyes pierce mine in a lustful way I don't dare to describe with more precision.

"I mean it. You really can put up a fight… and I like that, Ivy."

His voice feels like liquid nitrogen in my ears, but the worst part is hearing my name on his lips.

"Tell me, Ivy. You refuse my proposal. You don't seem to fear me enough. How come you lack the fear others have?"

"Oh, I have experienced fear before, but only of those things which make me truly worry. Having fear of other stuff is for weaklings. That's all."

I utter these words blatantly, as if I was unable to think twice (I am usually one of those who can't think twice about anything… What can I say? That's the way I am.) He laughs at my straightforwardness, but he seems amused by it.

"So don't I make you worry? After everything I bothered to do to your city?"

He seems too amused, but realizing that I'm not at all, he stops smiling at me. I just fall silent as the breeze combs my long, black hair and it perfumes my whole body with the scent of ashes and burnt metal.

"Why should I worry? There's nothing and no one left for me to worry about."

As I say this, he paces painfully slowly towards me.

"Oh, sure there is. Let me give you a clue: its name has three letters and it starts with 'I'."

That's me, of course – but I'm not worried about me. In fact, I never am. I worried about my father, my mother, my friends, about what they needed or wanted,… but not for me. Ever. I never asked for much, but when I really wanted something, I always got it by my own means.

"Ivy, Ivy, Ivy… I haven't killed millions of people to witness this: your indifference."

"You don't make me indifferent. I just don't fear you."

"So… what do you feel?"

"Bored."

I say this with all my anger, although I don't mean it: in fact, I feel extremely angry, but not bored. That's why I started to fight him the minute my father died in my arms. I had just come home from university because my classes were over and then I witnessed the massacre at home… He told me he loved me and exhaled his last breath. I just couldn't care about anything else: I had to kill that monster – or he shall kill me. I really do not care about the result. Either way I shall have peace.

He chuckles again. I think he has noticed what my true feelings actually are. He's not stupid and we both know. He knows that I know he is not stupid at all…

"What should I do to make you fear me, to make you worry… truly?"

"A marriage proposal."

I smile tauntingly. He laughs hysterically, but when he finishes, he adds:

"No, seriously."

I don't answer. I just clench my fists. I just want to get it done – or get me done.

"Don't waste your energy now." He says seriously as he comes closer to me, realizing I'm not interested in this chit chat. "Tomorrow I'll announce life on TV that I will hold a tournament in a week's time. I won't destroy any other city or kill anyone until I have what I want: a decent opponent. I repeat my proposal to you: I want you to take part in the Cell Games. Think about it carefully. You seem to be one of the best so far, so save your strength, Ivy. You'll need it next week."

"I don't care about your stupid games."

"I expect to see you in seven days, Ivy. Train. Get stronger. For me." He says using a husky voice as he comes even closer. I don't make a single step back.

"I don't care about your expectations on me. You're a spoiled little brat."

"You know what? Actually I don't expect you to be there. I COMMAND YOU TO BE THERE." He exclaims as he decides to reduce the small distance between us to zero. Then, he cups my chin into his right hand with violence. I see my own eyes in the reflection of his. "I want you to come, like it or not. If you don't come, I'll look for you and kill you. And believe me I'll relish in your suffering, Ivy."

His lips are scarcely at a two inches' distance from mine. I suddenly get really nervous.

"You'll kill me anyways. So why should you bother? Why should I bother?" I say as I get rid of his hold on my chin, violently turning my head to my right.

He seems to think closely about my last two questions, but his never-fading cold smile is engraved on his face and I hate it, as I hate the bruises he's caused on my skin, I hate the way he's destroyed my city and murdered everyone, I hate that he's so well-built, tall and strong; … I hate him so fucking much!

"Nice scar, the one you have at the left side of your nape…" He whispers with a husky voice, noticing the strange birthmark on my nape. "Now seriously… That's a good one, Ivy… But I just got bored of all this massive and aimless killing. I just want to have fun." He whispers to me.

Good God! He just wants to have fun! Unfortunately for him, he's not familiar with Cyndi Lauper's song. If he was, he'd know how to really have fun. Go to pubs, dance, listen to music, make friends, or get a hobby, you moron!

"There's other ways to have fun, you know." I whisper back.

For a couple of seconds, he just raises an eyebrow at me with some degree of curiosity. Yeah, you, the Perfect Imbecile, have no idea what life is about, but I do. Then, he seems to think of other options to have fun and enjoy life and he finally chuckles.

Oh, great. I'm giving him new ideas… on the horney side of fun. Why do I say such embarrassing stuff all the time?

"Yeah, right." He whispers back to me.

God, why doesn't he just shut up? I want to answer back, but in a nanosecond, he's gone.

He's flown away from me.

Damn it!


Now I'm alone. It'll be Christmas in a week. I think it'll snow in a couple of hours or so…

Devastation is like a poem: beautiful when it's written on a sheet of paper – but dreadful when you have to go through it.

I feel so guilty about it all. Bad. I guess it's the survivor's guilt. Why me? Anyway…. It's not as though I could've done something to stop him or kill him. I'm not going to pretend I'm a hero – I'm not even remotely what people say 'a good girl'. No, Sir.

The night before this small local Armageddon broke out, I was in this awesome party in a trendy club with my friends from college. We had a private room for us. It was huge. We danced techno and dance music all the time, non-stop. I must admit we had been drinking what my father would consider 'too much', although Amy Winehouse or Whitney Houston may have disagreed. On the next morning, we had class, but none of my friends cared. Neither did I, to be sure.

I brought my electric guitar over and played some Bon Jovi's, Green Day's, Maroon 5's, Coldplay's songs and any other song my friends asked for. We sang wildly. We know how to let it go. I think I even kissed Paul on the lips… Our parties were always wild and reckless. If we had been wearing clothes from the 20's, those would've been like Mr. Jay Gatsby's parties. And yes, I wish I could go back in time, but I'm not a fool like Mr. Gatsby himself. I know I cannot go back in time.

God, I love clubs, music, alcohol and boys. What did I say about Cyndi Lauper about having fun? Yeah, right.

We just kept on drinking as if there was no tomorrow. Unfortunately, we didn't know eventually there wouldn't.

Now they're all dead. Except me. No matter how hard I try to look for survivors, I can't find anyone alive. There are corpses all over the place. I should probably leave town before diseases spread. All of a sudden, I feel as if I'm Milla Jovovich in a Resident Evil movie… and it makes me sick.

I know I'm quite strong and fast like 'Alice' (I trained hard to be a good athlete and I was able to do lots of pushups with ease; I even had a trainer and got into some competitions and won. I even tried snowboarding and got a couple of gold meals and everything…) But I guess I'm too shallow sometimes. I quit a few months ago. I made my parents angry, but I wasn't feeling motivated enough. I'm sorry. Everybody was trying to make me regret leaving, but I never answered back. I never apologized for doing what I did. I just quit because I wanted to. That's all.

Now I can't take it back, not even if I want to. I don't regret my past actions, but I find myself crying as I lean on a wall in front of a grocery store on fire. I used to come here when I was little… and not so little.

There's a lovely candy floss machine burning vividly like the sun at sunset. I stare at it as the wind carries its sweet burnt scent all through the empty city center.

Ironically, devastation had never been so sweet.


I decide I have to be strong and face the future.

The weight of the world won't crush me. I swear I'll thrive. I'm not afraid. This is not 'The Hunger Games', although I expect survival to be harsh.

I build my own new provisional home in a nearby forest. I gather fuel and other stuff I might need for survival. Food. Medicines. Blankets. A pillow (because I can't sleep without one). My acoustic guitar – I'm sorry, I can't survive without music.

At night, I make a bonfire and I eat marshmallows.

Cell is mad if he thinks I'm gonna waste my time training.

6 days to go.


I need to find people. That's why I have set out on this little journey, this non-ambitious reconnaissance mission. I'm looking for survivors in the nearby cities and towns. Let's see what or who I can find.

A couple of hours later, I meet a guy called Akira. God, he's gorgeous… Even though I shouldn't be thinking about this, I can't help it. Realizing he's not the only survivor, he welcomes me and we become friends instantly. I feel suddenly relieved somehow.

5 days to go.


I'm preparing lunch for Akira and me while he's gathering more fuel. I see him coming back from the woods and I smile at him.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Cell suddenly yells at me.

Cell says he's followed what he calls my 'ki' because he has been checking on me, whether I was training or not. Realizing I'm not, he's come for me. I freak out.

How the hell does he know what I'm actually doing?! What the hell is this 'ki' thing exactly?!

Anyway, he drops the subject. He talks about some other guys who have tried to kill him but couldn't. They will apparently take part in the Cell Games too. He threatens me again and leaves.

Akira – who has been hiding all this time – freaks out. He's paralyzed. No wonder!

He yells and gets extremely angry at me. He says he doesn't want to stay close to me if that monster has a special interest in me. He calls me names and worse stuff. I can't believe my ears. He leaves me in a hurry. I feel like a parasite.

4 days to go.


I try to get over Akira's words, but it's too hard. Thus, I go to a forgotten spa and try to chill out. As I take my clothes off and bathe, I get both depressed and stressed at the same time, no matter how hard I try to relax.

I feel like killing myself. What did I say about thriving? Yeah, right. It's getting harder than I expected. I'm sorry, but survival is no pop song.

Cell will kill me anyways. I think I should enjoy what's left of my time on Earth. I should get stoned like never before. I definitely don't want to be sober the next time I see Cell…

So I hit the road until I find a forgotten bar. I hide myself under the counter and start to do my self-assigned 'homework'. I put some music on to help me get going: the former owner had a dance mash-up CD which I enjoy very much. It starts with Dragonette's Let it Go. I dance this song on the counter with a bottle in my left hand, drinking from it non-stop. Other songs fade in and out and I can't stop the rhythm in my body. I just wish I had someone to dance with…

I might be delusional right now, but that's better than anything.

3 days to go.


I wake up and I realize I fell asleep behind the counter. I have a massive headache. What a terrible hangover… and hunger! God, I'm starving.

Out of the blue, I hear some noises outside. I blocked the door yesterday, but somehow someone is successfully trying to break in. I peep from a hole in a window. It's a group of 7 or 8 men who seem extremely dangerous. They've got scars on their faces, arms, body,… tattoos and piercings everywhere and the concepts of hygiene and shaving must be absolutely unknown to them. I keep my mouth shut, get a bottle of whiskey and flee through the back door. Luckily, they don't even notice I've been there. I hit the road again.

God, the daylight is killing my brain cells! Then, a figure descends from the sky. Oh, no… Cell? Again?! No fucking way!

Oh, wait. It's not him. It's a short bald guy without a nose who seems to be quite friendly. His name is Krillin. We chat for a while. I discover he's one of those guys who have tried to kill Cell before, the very same who will be taking part in the Cell Games. We become friends almost instantly when I tell him my story.

He tells me he had suspected something about me (that's why he's searched for me, for my 'ki' and come to me – oh, dear me, this 'ki' must me really important and I'm absolutely clueless about it!), because they had been tracking Cell's steps and they realized he had been close to an Earthling 'ki', mine, for too long… Suspicious. Krillin thought that maybe I was also a great fighter like them, so he makes the following proposal to me: fight Cell together.

I tell him I'm no fighter at all. I trained to be an athlete and I happened not to be in town when the massacre took place. That's why I faced him.

"When I came back home, I tried to fight him 'cos I was angry… Then he went away after suggesting I should take part in his stupid games and I managed to survive from then on, somehow. But I'm not a fighter. I've never fought in my entire life until I met him." I say.

Krillin didn't expect this answer from me and I get his sudden disappointment. Yes, that expression on his face is quite familiar to me: like my trainer's face when I told him I wanted to quit.

Anyways, he tells me to come with him, but I refuse. I don't want to be alone, but Cell is after me. I don't want to cause him any trouble. I tell him so. He doesn't seem to care – unlike Akira. So unlike him… I refuse anyways. I prefer Cell to find me soon and get this over with. Krillin frowns and sighs. He seems to give up on me.

"Whatever you need, I can feel your 'ki', so I can come and help you whenever you need it. Just call me." He gently tells me as if he was Prince Charming.

"Call you?"

"Yes,…" He smiles at me and I freeze when I realize how much I had been missing this. He's got one of the warmest smiles I've ever seen. "… just yell and I'll be here for you. Anything… just let me know. Nice to meet you, by the way. I really hope Cell doesn't kill you. We will take care of him. Don't worry."

Then, he flies away from me. He's gone and I'm still blushing. I'm such a stupid foolish girl… Maybe I should've gone with him. Now I'm alone again.

I miss my parents, my friends, my trainer, Paul… I probably should go on drinking some more. I should reach the level of acute alcohol poisoning in my blood, because there's only…

… 2 days left to go.


I decide to take residence in a forgotten mall. God, there's absolutely anything here! Literally. So I start to look for more whiskey and other stuff to drink.

Unfortunately for the mall, I'm in the bride's dressing area and I get the wild idea to get dressed like one. I guess I'll never marry now, so why not trying some dresses on? I feel soooo naughty right now! But I really enjoy the feeling of getting rid of my old ragged clothes.

Cell might be losing his patience, because I'm not training and he knows what I'm doing or not (somehow, due to my stupid 'ki'). But I couldn't care less. I'm almost finishing off my old bottle of whiskey. A stoned bride. Very good…

I'll need some more alcohol in the next few minutes, unless Cell is charitable enough to kill me now. I chuckle at this thought of mine.

Then, he suddenly descends from the sky, I see him through a huge window as he does so and then he breaks the wall and the window in front of him and lands in front of me.

"Speaking of the devil…" I say with a huge grin on my face.

"Ivy, stop arsing about." He says seriously.

"I'm not arsing about. I'm having fun." I say amused. That's the alcohol speaking.

"I'm going to take this foolish grin of your face, Ivy. You didn't fulfill my command." He's getting angry.

"I don't care."

"Are you suicidal?" He raises an eyebrow at me due to my foolish behavior today. I notice his eyes obsessively roaming on my body, on my sexy bride dress.

"God, yes, of course!"

"Isn't that supposed to be negative? Why are you laughing?"

"'Cos I'mmmm… stoned."

"Stoned?" He doesn't seem to believe it, although it's obvious.

"Hmmm…" I say meaning 'yes, I am'.

"Let me guess: you were starting to worry truly about me, so before you started to feel fear you decided to get drunk." He says proudly.

"Oh, clever boy…" I sing joyfully.

"Come with me. Now." He says authoritatively.

"Nooo… Not yeeeet. There's still 1 day left to goooo, remember?" I say as if I was chiding a little kid, not a monster.

"I don't care. Just come." He repeats.

I don't care to listen anymore. I turn the music on and dance as if I was on a fancy catwalk and break things and use mannequins as dancing partners every now and then. I ignore Cell and I know this is pissing him off…

After a few seconds, he understands that I'm not playing his game, that I have a game of my own called 'delirium', and he doesn't like it. So he comes closer to me, and he stops me by firmly holding my waist with one hand and my nape with the other.

I gasp. I didn't see this one coming.

Should I call Krillin?

No, no, no, he'd get killed for nothing and I don't want that. I don't need a savior. No one can save me from this monster anyways, so…

"I said 'come'." He growls at me. "You're coming with me. Now."

"What for?" I whisper with pride and self-assertion.

"Something's changed." He says seriously, but also a bit worried. But I couldn't care less. I'm kind of numb right now. I just feel the stiffness caused by alcohol in my arms and legs like a heavy burden as he speaks, but he's holding me so tight that I know I won't fall – although I'd definitely prefer that. "That's all."

Having said this, he takes off to the skies with me in his arms.


Cell is an asshole, but he's also the perfect host of a white marble castle.

Although the palace is huge and precious, he's built it himself for himself. He's got good taste… It's beyond amazing. I must admit it.

He locks me up in a luxurious bedroom fully decorated in red and black. He commands me to sleep and relax for tomorrow. I complain, but he's gone before I can even utter a single word.

I sigh. I can't fight back like the hero I'd like to be, as usual. This is my cell, then… So be it.

There's food in a disproportionate amount on a large table. The bathroom looks like a 5-star-hotel bathroom. There is a Jacuzzi even! There is a huge wardrobe with sexy girl's clothes – I can't believe my eyes! What the hell is he thinking about?! I freeze as I mentally admit that he's making me feel like a Moulin Rouge girl. Did he get this from what I said to him about having fun? Oh, God… please don't do this to me!

Cell has said that something had changed. I wonder what that might be and whether it may have something to do with all this stuff.

Before I even notice, I let myself fall on the bed and fall asleep.

One day to go.


When I wake up, it's nighttime already. I think I have been sleeping all day long.

The hangover is long gone, I'm 100% sober and I'm starting to worry truly – and to have fear of what might happen to me now that I'm locked in here (yes, I tried all doors and windows, but I'm not lucky today: all are closed and breaking the window's glass would be futile, since there are huge thick bars on the outside).

I'm looking for more booze on the cupboards and on the table, but there's only water. Crap.

I suddenly remember it's Christmas… Yes, a week has gone by and Cell has caught me. And he killed my family and now I'm not spending Christmas with them right now. I feel blue…

I'm even starting to feel ashamed of wearing a bride's dress, so I decide to get a change of clothes at least. But my current goal is sabotaged: every single item of clothing that I can find is too sexy to my liking. Oh, yes, I had completely forgotten about the huge amount of sexy dresses Cell has put in here… Is he really expecting me to take part in the Cell Games in a silk dress? Something's clearly wrong here… and I haven't got a clue about it.

Anyway, I sigh and randomly pick a blue dress and black ballerinas.

I hope he doesn't like it.


I don't have to wait for long to know, in fact. After a few minutes, Cell unlocks my door and comes in.

"I need to have a word with you, Ivy." He says as serious as if he were Fate himself.

"Well, I don't want to." I say with pride.

"How are you feeling? Are you back to normal?"

"No, I'm not back to normal." I say with badly repressed anger. "You still exist. You destroyed everything. I can't go back to normal! Even better: if you had died before you were born, that would've been fine for me."

"Good, you're back to normal now." He says with a grin on his face, satisfied.

"So, what the hell do you want from me?" I say defiantly.

"I though you didn't want to hear me talking."

"Cut the crap."

"OK," He raises an eyebrow at me, but goes on. "I have news for you: you're not taking part in the Cell Games."

"Oh, great. That's why you wanted me to be here for? For not taking part in it?! You're mad!"

"Let me finish, Ivy. You're not taking part in the Cell Games because you belong with me."

"What?!" I exclaim as if couldn't believe my ears. Now this 'belonging' thing he's just said makes me freak out in a way I can't even describe.

"I suppose you don't know the truth."

"What… are… you… talking… about?" I whisper to him.

He comes a bit closer to me and sighs as if he doesn't want to lay bad news on me. This is freaking me out even more. Why does he act so politely now? Who does he think he is? He's not a gentleman, for Christ sake! He's not even a man…! What's so important and dreadful about this piece of news that require such a behavior from him?

"Had your parents ever told you that you had been adopted? That you are 'special'?"

"No, they… - I'm not adopted!" I yell with anger.

"Yes, you are." He answers back gently. "Your true –let's say– 'father' is the same as… mine."

I laugh hysterically at this idea. He's obviously making this up.

"It's true." He goes on with the same tone of voice. "I was created by doctor Gero. It's all in the doctor's journals. My creation. Your creation. Here. Have a look." He throws some handwritten notebooks with leather bindings on my bed, right by my side. "I've been reading them for the last few days now. They talk about a female biological android-child who one day escaped from the lab. She was only a three-year-old little creature who resembled any other regular human creature, but was capable of a lot more strength and speed. I've seen your strength and speed myself and you definitely suit the doctor's description."

"That doesn't prove anything…" I say with insolence and cheek, and a grin on my face.

He throws a small envelope on top of the notebooks.

"I was able to find this in your local town hall."

I open it straightaway. It's an adoption file with my name on it. I open it. And it says that I was…

"… Found in the forest, walking on her own." Cell seems to have read this important paragraph so many times that he's reciting it to me from memory. "Unable to talk about her identity, unable to talk at all." He makes a crucial pause. "Physical exam, correct. Just a strange, tiny, one-inch scar on the left side of her nape… Photograph included."

I look straight at the photo enclosed to the file. I freeze. I'm unable to say anything.

"Merry Christmas, Ivy." He says as he leaves me alone and locks the door again.


Hi there!

I'm Denim Jean and this is my new DGZ story. I hope you like it!

Do you think Ivy will be able to handle the truth? Will she manage to escape from her cell? Will she meet Krillin or Akira again? Will she eventually take part in the Cell Games or not?

Be patient, your answers will see the light soon enough…

Read and review! ;)

Luv,

Denim Jean