They nag at me until I type them down, I swear.
^_^ Enjoy ANOTHER one. Haha;;
Mirror Mirror On the Wall.
The smell was in the air.
Spoiled. Taint. Rank.
The smell of death.
He knew it by heart. The crumbling, decomposition of flesh as it seared painfully off a person's body. The screams mixed in with the smell.
It always left its imprint inside his nostrils. Days could pass but the stench never went away. It was always there, tickling his senses. Making him recall what had caused said scent.
He had never gotten used to it. Never liked it.
As a child, he always gagged from it. Sometimes, he even threw up. But only afterwards. Only when he was alone and no one could see his weakness. When no one could see him cry.
Ironically, no matter how much he detested the odor, he could not get away from it. He had been trained from birth to become accustomed to it. And, with so much first hand experience, he should have gotten used to it. He should have even grown to love it, as his other superiors had.
But he hadn't. He hadn't grown to like it. He hadn't even grown to tolerate it.
In actuality, he had managed to breath off of it. He had commanded himself to no longer get nauseous from the scent. No, no. When the smell entered his nostrils as an adult, he did not gag.
He breathed.
Breathed it all in, made his veins pump with it, made his muscles contract with it, made his body feed off of it.
The funk did its job. Made him feel stronger, better. So long as he didn't throw up or gag. And he wouldn't, as long as he concentrated and let it fill him with determination instead of affliction.
But now, for some reason, as he stood amidst the crowd, he smelt it. And, after all these years of working hard to ignoring it, it hit him hard and fast and it made his knees wobble.
It spread. This time, past his nose and into his brain. The awful smell, the awful fumes. Smoke filled his head, his eyes watered and his throat burned. He clutched at his chest, his breathing becoming more labored. Screams echoed through his ears, loud booms resounded afterwards and one lone face stood out among all others. In the middle of all the chaos and all the dying and all the stink, he saw her.
Her blue eyes twinkled with tears. Her hair flew wildly across her face from the wind. An expression of shame, worry and sadness all mixed into one was on her face. And she stared right at him. She stared and cried and mouthed out,
"Why?"
Then, a violent eruption sounded and her face switched to fear and bafflement. Suddenly, the left side of her face completely disappeared, leaving only a bony skeletal structure of what had been there. Then, the other side of her face, then the rest of her. Slowly being disintegrated by a bright blue light. He screamed her name, reached out for her but couldn't get to her in time. The smell vibrated in his body, soaking his tongue, making him cough.
Then she was gone. Taken away by the bright blue beams that seemed to be causing the whole commotion. By the bright beams crashing into the helpless humans, burning all from existence.
The same blue energy beams that were emitting from his hands.
----
In the darkened confides of his room, Vegeta snapped his onyx eyes open quickly. Sweat rolled down his face, his chest heaved with deep breaths and he discovered he had been subconsciously clenching his fingers into fists.
Confusion came first. He flicked his eyes around the room in a panic, licking his dry lips, trying desperately to figure out where he was.
Something beside him moved and he snapped his eyes to it instantly. The figure moved again, the covers falling off of its form and he relaxed.
Bulma.
She was alive.
He breathed out a sigh of relief and watched her sleeping form, her hands curling around her pillow, a small smile on her face.
Vegeta raised an eyebrow at that but smirked softly.
She was alive.....
The images in his head flashed painfully bright through his mind. Beams, screaming, death. He grabbed his forehead as it throbbed and concluded the obvious.
It had only been a dream.
No. It had been a nightmare.
He slowly slid the covers off of him, being careful not to wake the woman lying beside him and got to his feet swiftly. Dressed in nothing but boxer shorts, the widow peaked Saiyan made his way to the bathroom connected to their bedroom. He shut the door, flicked on the light, sat on the lid of the toilet and, for a moment, he was motionless.
Nightmare. He had had a nightmare.
The word came back to his mind and he growled. How long had it been since he had last had a nightmare?
It seemed like forever ago.
And the contents of it. The screaming....the crowds.....the explosion...her.
He knew exactly what the dreams were replaying. He knew what they were indicating, knew what his own subconscious mind was trying to dig back up.
The crowds. Him standing in the ring of the World Tournament. An evil smirk on his face. A large M on his forehead. His spiky haired rival standing a few feet before him.
The explosion. Him challenging Goku to a battle. Holding out his hand, gathering the energy into it and letting it go.
The screaming. The frightened yells of the earthlings as the beam, his beam, tore their bodies apart.
Her.
Vegeta lifted his head up, eyebrows furrowed. The sight of her in the middle of his dream had been both overwhelming and surprising. For the life of him, he couldn't recall seeing her at the time.
So why had she shown up in his mind?
The same questions from every other night arose in his mind like déjà vu and he couldn't help but chuckle mirthlessly. The laughter stopped however when she came back to mind.
Her face vividly flashed into his thoughts. Wide eyes, tears, fear. Her mouth moving slowly, "Why?"
Then she disappeared. Because of him.
Vegeta abruptly got to his feet, angered at his own thoughts, at his own dreams. He paced back and forth, cursing himself. It had been a whole week since Kid Buu had been destroyed and even longer since the 'incident'with.....Majin Vegeta. The Saiyan Prince hadn't been that aware of the changes until he had returned back home.
Turns out, Bulma had been there. She had seen him murdering thousands on innocent people.
And, it hurt her, he knew. Although she hadn't blamed him, or yelled at him or kicked him out, he had seen the look in her eyes. The disappointment. The change. On some level, he felt she was afraid of him.
It was ruefully ironic that she had witnessed that side of him but hadn't been informed of the events that took place when he had tried, but failed, to blow Majin Buu up. But, of course, she only got to see the worst of him. Never the better.
Ever since, Vegeta had managed to skillfully bury the whole thing and ignore it. Unlike Bulma, he knew how to do that. Although the looks she sometimes gave him dredged all the memories right back up.
But now....Now they were returning back in dreams. Horrible, earth shattering dreams. Once or twice every night. It was always the same deal, the same damn dream. And, every night, unbeknown to his mate, he came into the bathroom to mull and gripe and curse himself.
To complain of his own weaknesses. The nightmares tormented his mind at night while his wife's attitude chipped off his self esteem by day.
Of course, he'd never tell her that. Probably because, deep down, he thought it'd get better. They had been through hard times before and had gotten through it. They could surely make it through this.
They had to.
Vegeta ran a hand down his face and came to a stop before the mirror above the sink. He leaned his hands on the edges of it, and stared intently at himself. Dark circles under his eyes, hair mussed up more then usual. He wasn't looking his best but then again, he wasn't feeling his best either.
"Failure."
The deep, echoing voice took him by surprise. Narrowing his eyes, Vegeta glanced upwards and side to side in confusion.
"Idiot." It laughed menacingly. "Failure."
"Who's there?" Vegeta hissed angrily, hands clenching at his sides.
"Knock, knock."
Then, slowly, very slowly, Vegeta realized who the voice was coming from. His face went blank for a second before he turned back towards the mirror, praying his assumption wasn't correct.
But it was.
"Knock, knock."It rasped again. But this time, Vegeta could put a face to the sound. His eyes widened and he leaned in nearer, blinking his eyes rapidly to make sure what he saw was real. The fact that it was didn't help him feel any better. The image staring back at him from the mirror......
Well, it was himself, of course. But, then again, it wasn't.
The mirror version of his self didn't look as tired. He looked vibrant, young and evil. The large M was on its forehead and there was a nasty smirk planted on his mouth.
Majin Vegeta.
"I'm disappointed in you. Why aren't you saying who's there anymore?"
Vegeta growled low in his throat and his arms started to shake.
"Aww, poor baby going to cry?"
Vegeta exhaled sharply.
"Show some backbone, kid."
"What are you?" He finally asked in a hoarse whisper.
It cackled. "Boy, don't you see? I'm you." It made a twisted face of humor. "Or, to be logically correct, I'm the evil you. But, since you're probably already doubting your logic by this point, who cares about the exacts?"
Vegeta leaned back a bit, face in a scowl but too flabbergasted to speak.
"Bet you didn't think you'd ever see me again, huh?" The mirror cackled, eyes wide and crazy. "Well, I'm back Veggie boy and I must say, I'm here to stay. How does that make you feel?"
Crazy, Vegeta thought in anger, this whole ordeal made him feel insane. Was he really having a conversation with himself?
With his evil half?
"You thought you could get away from me, didn't you?" The voice turned back menacingly and the evil him scowled also. "Don't you think you're a tad bit selfish? To unlock me and then try and push me back. When you let Babidi control you, much more then hate was released, prince. A whole persona was formed." It smirked. "That that persona is me. I'm a living, breathing person. Inside of you."
"Bullshit." Vegeta spat out, completely done with trying to make sense of this all. "That's bullshit. I never let Babidi control me. He simply unleashed-"
"Me."
Vegeta did not respond. He just stood stoic, teeth clenched.
"Except," It continued. "When you broke from his grasp, you might have managed to conceal me." It barked in laughter, as if the mere thought of it was impossible. "But only for a limited time."
Vegeta opened his mouth to reply but stopped when he realized he had nothing to say.
"This is all hard to believe, isn't it? I mean, evil sides, dual personalities, you probably suspect you're losing your mind. But, fret not, you are perfectly sane. In my eyes anyway but I guess that isn't saying much."
"What do you want?" Vegeta finally croaked out.
"I'm worried about you, Veggie." It mocked. "I'm worried that these silly humans will make you soft...well, softer then you've already become. That stupid human woman you call a mate and your 'child'. Bah! Who ever saw a Saiyan with purple hair?" It smirked. "Do you really want someone like that to take the throne of prince when you pass?"
Prince. When he passed.
The words shocked Vegeta so much he snapped his head back as if he'd been punched. He had never thought about the after.
"My son is perfectly capable of continuing the legacy." He found himself defending the boy, to himself.
"Oh, now don't you sound like a proud father."It tsked. "And say, what's going to happen with his sons? Or their sons? On their sons' sons?"
Vegeta simply furrowed his eyebrows.
"Sooner of later Vegeta, our race will die out."
Although he had suspected that a long time ago, the words still hit him hard. Vegeta let his shoulders slump and he just stared at his reflection with malice. His evil, mocking reflection.
"But the humans will not." It continued, almost angrily, flinching. "They might be the weakest, dumbest creatures of the world but they are dominant. And, while our race is doomed to depletion, theirs shall rave on without decline."
"What's the point?" Vegeta's voice was cold and hard. He felt drained and worn out and defeated. The fear about his sanity falling apart was gone. He didn't care anymore. He simply did not care.
"My point is," The mirror reflection of the prince raised its hand and, although it was the right shape, it looked black and deformed. "Let me come back out. Let me guide you on your quest. Let us kill off these troublesome humans and we shall become the dominant species yet again."
The words swirled in Vegeta's brain and, for one quick moment or maybe longer, he let the ideas come to life. Something inside him snapped and Majin Vegeta was back, laughing and smirking, power coursing through his veins, red in front of his eyes, and world dominance on the brain. Blowing up the stadium, fighting Goku in the mountains, hugging his son.
He froze.
Hugging his son...
"Take care of your mother, son."
Bulma in the crowds. Crying, mouthing the words, "Why?"
The dark voice, telling him to kill all humans, "Let me come back out."
The visions cracked and shattered, leaving him shaking alone in the bathroom, staring down into the sink.
Then, his head came up and glared right into the eyes of his own reflection. Right into the evil, soulless eyes of the man he had once been. The darkness inside of him that had grown so much, it had taken the form as this demon.
"No." He said evenly.
The reflection's smirk faded quickly and in its place came a scowl. "What?"
It was Vegeta's time for a victory smirk and he gave one full force. "Are you dense? Hard of hearing? I said; No."
It growled. "Look whose standing up for themselves. No matter," It smiled. "You can't keep me bottled up forever."
"I won't need to."
The evil reflection sputtered in confusion.
Then Vegeta started to laugh. It started off as a chuckle then rose to full, whole hearted guffaws. "You have it all figured out don't you? Or should I say, I have it all figured out? There is no reason to try and maintain a dying race. I have already succumbed to the idea and unlike you; I'm fine with it now. Why whine over something inevitable?"
It balled its hands into fist. "Yes, why whine? Since, you seemed to be the only one who did. Why the change of heart? Do tell."
"Actually," Vegeta shrugged. "Something you said put everything into perspective." He watched his reflection frown. "'Let me come back out.'?'Let me guide you on your quest.'? Sounds like you don't have as much control as you say if I have to let you do everything."
His reflection growled. "As I've said, you can't keep me locked away forever. I will-"
"Fool," Vegeta laughed and shook his head. "I am the prince of all Saiyans. No one will control me."
And, just like that, with its eyes wide and mouth open, the evil, Majin Vegeta reflection vanished. But, this time, Vegeta suspected it was gone for good. No more darkness lurking around in him. He had no need for it anymore.
A knock on the door made him spin around.
"Vegeta?" It was Bulma and from the sounds of it, she had just woken up. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was already eight in the morning.
"What?" He rasped out tiredly from inside.
"You okay?" There was fear and concern in her voice.
"I'm fine."
She was silent. "Well, alright."Then her voice turned to excitement. "Hurry up and come on down then, it's Trunks' birthday you know!"
He chuckled softly to himself, hearing her footsteps stomping out the door and downstairs in a rush. At that moment, he felt better then ever. There were no more pressures weighing him down. No more worries, no more thinking, no more evil, no more death. There was just him, his wife and his son.
And, even if it was only for a day, Vegeta was content with that.
He raised an eyebrow, sighed, rubbed his eyes and tapped on the glass of the mirror, snorting. "By the way, if I had to chose, I'd pick my mate all over again. And I like purple hair."
Then he trekked off downstairs to wish his son a happy birthday.
A bit of angst yet humor filled. Because I am such a joke box.
R&R / Thanks for reading.