Well, here it is, my next story, I've decided to break my own rules and post it before I have it entirely written (I do have an outline though) perhaps this way I will be able to make better use of your comments and suggestions. You'll be able to tell the timeline this is set in, it is pretty obvious. I know I haven't written it exactly as it was in the show, but if I did, what would be the point of me writing it? It is the same idea though. Oh, I put tildes (~) in to denote when the setting changes.

I don't own anything blah blah blippity blah don't sue me.

-Niamh

Misery

Danger swept over the hills, piercing the air with an electric currant, trailing fear behind it. The prince could sense it; it left a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, a sour smell in the air and a bitter taste in his mouth. This wasn't a heightened power level, there wasn't a power level at all, the prince scented this threat through pure instinct. He could feel it, as the threat clamped an icy hand, like a vice, around his stomach. Turning to his friend, the prince quirked a lavender eyebrow over a sad, blue eye that had seen far more than any thirteen-year-old ought. Without saying a word his friend nodded and they both shot into the air, racing toward the growing danger.

This threat had scented the air for twelve years now, for twelve years the prince's life had been filled with screams and suffering and tears and pain, for twelve years he had known only fear and preparation. He was convinced now, as they flew, faster than any bird, faster than the wind, two burning sparks slipping through the air under a white-gray sky that promised rain, that he was fully prepared to meet this enemy. He was wrong.

Despite twelve years of rape and battery, the home the prince knew was still beautiful. He flew over jagged mountain ranges so sharp that they cut the sky and it bled dry, white blood, gently dusting the crests with a frozen glaze of snow, flowering fields that sent up the smell of spring almost powerful enough to drown out the acrid scent of danger, sunsets bursting with all the reds, bright-golds and yellows of the autumn leaves, and gentle pools reflecting so much sun and green that drinking them was like drinking the summer. But there was ugliness there too. Forests, scorched and scarred from too many battles, oceans reeking of death and decay, countless species exterminated, and this enemy, so cold, so empty.

As they reached the city where the enemy waited the prince struggled to keep the tears from his eyes. Death was everywhere. Buildings, hundreds of stories high, crumbled to the ground, leaving only mangled, twisted metal reaching out like terrible grasping claws. Bodies lay everywhere covered in blood, expressions of terror fixed on their faces.

"Bastards" the prince muttered.

His friend still said nothing, but as he turned the prince could see the sorrow etched on his face. The prince didn't even notice when his friend's fist shot out to strike him. Letting out a strangled cry the prince fell to join the countless bodies that littered the ground.

"Sorry" his friend whispered before turning sharply on his heel and stalking away from the body of his best friend.

It was not until the afore-promised rain began to fall that the prince woke to discover that his only friend was dead.

~

In an endless dream, in a ceaseless mist, in a place untouched by time the daughter of the guardian paused to stare through the gates. Hearing the thin whip-snap of the fleeing wind and scraps of words that were barely familiar she was both frightened and tantalized.

The outside world had always fascinated her. Her father was out there, somewhere, that was all her mother ever told her about him, she almost never spoke of him, there was a sadness there, deeper and more painful than the child could understand. But more than her father, Mesiree was fascinated by the words outside the gates. Outside, words seemed to mean so much more than they did within.

Her mother, the guardian, concerned by her daughter's preoccupation, stepped up beside her. "What is it Mesiree?" she asked softly, "What do you see?"

The child didn't respond immediately and the guardian ran a hand tenderly through her daughter's hair. The child looked nothing like her mother. She had not inherited the guardian's stunning height or emerald hair, she was a small, fey little thing with hair like brushed gold, exactly like her father. The only thing that labeled her as her mother's daughter was her eyes. Mesiree's eyes were a few shades darker than her mother's garnet ones, they resembled ripe mulberries and were, at that moment, still watching the gate intently.

"Mesiree?" the guardian asked again, "What is it?"

The child blinked and pursed her lips thoughtfully. Eventually she produced a word that meant nothing within the time gates. "Misery."

Her mother sighed sadly, "Come away now dear," she whispered, tenderly stroking her daughter's hair again.

"What is it mother?" the child asked softly.

The guardian quirked her eyebrow in a question.

"Misery," the child said, "what is it?"

The guardian lifted a hand to press her fingers against the bridge of her nose. "Misery," she said sadly, "is a thing that means nothing, until it means everything. Now come away from the gates."

The child smiled and turned away from the gates, the terrible visions therein all but forgotten.

~

The prince's misery permeated the world, his screams filled the air for miles and his tears hung in the eyes of everyone who could hear. He had lost his best friend, his only friend. Golden power flickered around him as tears streamed down his face and rain soaked his clothing. The prince cradled his friend's head in his arms. The man, a few years older than the prince, looked terrible. His body was covered with cuts and deep gashes, blood was everywhere, his arm had been ripped off in an earlier battle but the mostly healed wound appeared to have reopened, soaking the bandage with too much blood. "Gohan," the prince whispered softly, "why the hell did you do that? What the hell were you thinking?"

The threat, the prince noticed, was nowhere to be found, it had disappeared once again, over the mountains, leaving behind only a slight, acrid smell and too much blood.

Standing, the prince let out a scream filled with pain and anger. Burning power swirled around him and his eyes snapped and icy green. "I did it Gohan," he muttered through clenched teeth, "I finally did it."

~

Mesiree skipped happily through the mist that hung constantly in the gates. A few years had passed since she had stared out the gates at the boy with lavender hair. After that day her mother had kept a closer eye on the girl, had tried to keep her occupied and focused on life inside the gates by teaching her things the guardian had learned long ago to entertain herself with.

The child was now practicing one of her favorites, one of the more difficult ones for her, with a small glass ball as she skipped through the mist. The trick was simple, drop the ball, stop it just above the ground and set it down gently, but it required strict concentration, which the child had very little of. She chanted the steps over and over to herself as if she were afraid she would forget them.

"Drop…Stop…Now down gently…Drop…Stop…Now gently down." Her small voice rang out through the mist as the little glass ball fell to the ground, halted, mere centimeters from peril, and was set gently down, only to be picked up so she could repeat the trick once more.

~

The prince stood beside his mother as she put the finishing touches on a strange bulbous machine they had put all their faith into. Three years had passed since his friend had died, three years since he had vowed to destroy the enemy, he had failed. Now this was all they had left, a long shot, but it was their only hope. He missed his friend and he felt that he needed his mentor, so he would go back in time and fix things.

"Are you sure about this Trunks?" his mother asked, suddenly worried.

"I have to mother" the prince said, determination gleaming in his eye.

His mother sighed slightly but stepped aside to allow him into the machine, "Be careful," she said softly.

Trunks smiled gently at her has he stepped in, "You know I will."

~

The guardian walked distractedly through the gates. She could hear her daughter still practicing her trick not far away.

"Drop…Stop…Now gently down."

The guardian smiled happily to herself, it'd been months since her daughter had even glanced out the gates. It was safer that way, over fascination with the outside world would lead to trouble, it might make the child want to leave and the woman, who was older than time, who had lived centuries alone before the girl had been born, was now afraid she'd be lonely without her, she was frightened of how silent the gates would be if her daughters soft, bell-like voice did not ring through them.

"Drop…Stop…Now down gently."

The guardian glanced momentarily out the gates while a mother embraced her son, seemingly for the last time. "What?" the guardian whispered, looking closer. The boy stepped into a machine she had never seen before. Immediately the guardian waved a hand and the picture was magnified. Squinting her eyes she tried to discern what it was that these people were planning. Suddenly her eyes widened and she swore loudly as the ground beneath her began to shake. "Mesiree!" she screamed as all around her the fabric of time tore, "Misery!"

~

Trunks stepped into the time machine and set the controls. With one last wave to his mother he flipped the switch and the time machine jerked into motion.

The flight back in time was mostly uneventful. It took only a second and was traveled in complete darkness; aside from a few odd sounds he noticed nothing.

~

Inside the time gates the guardian's screams died away and a little glass ball crashed to the ground.

~

In a place between times, between worlds, boundaries tore and things never meant to be seen were set loose. Pulled from dreams, from nightmares, from children's screams, women's tears and men's cries. Made from hunger and cold, something more terrible than war or winter, a formless fury, a shadow so inky thick that people lost themselves in it. A terror so horrible it stopped men's hearts and snatched women's breath from their breast.

Please tell me what you think

P.S. The next chapter of Moonstruck should be coming out soon.

-Niamh