Description: A somewhat gothic DBZ short story. Rated K+: Some minor language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, or Dragon Ball GT. No copyright intended.

Summary: Lost was raised by the evil warlord, Bunka. All Lost has ever known is pain and war. Now, Bunka has given Lost one last task. Her mission: Go to earth and kill Goku. But when Lost confronts Goku, he claims that she is actually his daughter, Airi, who has been missing for fifteen years. After agreeing to give Goku one day to prove his claim, Lost sets out to discover who she really is. Will the truth lead to her redemption? Or will Bunka's grip on her prove too strong for even the mighty Goku to free?

Prologue

The History of Lost

Memory is a funny thing. I could recall the first time I had met Bunka like it was yester day. I remembered how tall he seemed to my three year old self and how he had been dressed head to toe in black. I could still feel him take hold of my arm and how he had laughed like this had been way too easy, before stealing me away.

I couldn't remember his face. In the haze that shrouded my memory his face had been cloaked in shadow. Though now his face is scorched into my brain. It was a face in my nightmares that haunts both my dreams and waking hours, with his wicked laughter ringing in my ears long after I had left his side.

Bunka, the devil sent to rip me apart and the cause of all my suffering, to rebuild me in his own twisted image. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

After taking me, Bunka brought me into a space ship made of silver metal. Stupidly I remember thinking how shinny it was. I could almost make out my reflection in its paneling. The ship was so vast that when the entrance to the ship opened, I felt as if it would swallow me up like a monster. That should have been my first clue of the hell I would soon be living.

Bunka had carried me though a labyrinth of corridors until we reached a small cold room, with a wall lined with bars that cut the back half of the room into sections. Each section had its own door, creating little rooms. I was tossed into one of the cells with nothing but a scratchy blanket to keep me warm. There had been no bed, and only a toilet to keep the mess cleaned up.

I was kept there for days, cuddle into the farthest corner, without any food or water or human contact to keep me sane. It was when I thought I would die of starvation that Bunka had finally returned. He had taken me roughly by the hand and led me out of the ship. Standing at the base of the ship, Bunka let me take in my surroundings.

We were some where far from home, I knew that much. In a strange place covered in the green of a jungle. I had stood on my toes to see if I could see my house anywhere, but I couldn't. I stared up at Bunka questionably, but he had only given me his evil grin and pulled me along behind him.

Bunka took me deep into the jungle, far from the ship. By way of releasing my hand he whipped me to the ground. I fell, scraping my hands and knees. I had turned around to yell at him for being so mean, but he was already gone. He had left me there, in the middle of nowhere. I remember crying a lot that first week, and calling out for my mother and father to save me. No one had come to my rescue.

It had been a living hell. The days on that planet were filled with horrors without names. There had been giant monsters that had tried to make me their meals, and weeds that tried to drag me under the earth. There were foods that caused hallucinations and water that burned as it flowed down my throat. It was the nights I loved the most. While I was tucked away in whatever hiding place I could find, I would fall asleep and dream.

I would dream of my mother cooking in the kitchen, with the sounds of rattling pots and pans filling the air around me. I would see my father and brother training in the yard until the food was ready. My father would walk over to me and take me into his arms to carry me inside. He'd smell strongly of home and sweat. It was in his arms that I knew everything would be okay.

I was safe, for the first and last time I could remember. I never wanted to wake up, but eventually I always did. I would wake and be filled with a hallow feeling that buried deep in my chest. One morning I couldn't remember what my family looked like. Next I couldn't remember the sound of my mother cooking. Then one day all the good dreams were gone.

I wasn't scared anymore and I would never be scared again. Slowly I went from being the hunted to the hunter. I became strong. I became the thing the monsters feared in the dead of the night.

Two years passed and Bunka returned. I don't know what he was expecting to find but he was surprised that I was still alive, and impressed. Again, he took me onto the ship, but this time he gave me a bed and food. At first I was relieved, but the hell did not end.

For the next twelve years I would be trained, nearly killed every week, and tortured repeatedly until I was the strongest fighter in Bunka's army and leader of his elite fighting team Bunka called the Force. It was when I turned eighteen, that Bunka decided I was ready for the ultimate task: to go to earth and kill his enemy Goku.

I was told that this was going to be my hardest test yet. I relished the challenge.