Here's hoping that I never pull another three-year hiatus again… although one year is bad enough!

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or any of its characters. The demons' Hell, the Seer, and miscellaneous demons are mine. I am making no profit from this.

Chapter Eleven

Piccolo found himself growing angry again. This was the second time the demon had dragged him to the ground, and it was the second time that Gohan was charging to the rescue. He was the most powerful Namek alive, damn it! He did not need to be rescued!

Gohan landed a solid blow to the back of the demon's head, and it roared and swung a fist at the boy. He darted out of the way and kicked at one of its free legs. A sharp crunch sounded. The demon hissed. The sound could barely be heard over the strong wind that was picking up, generated by the sheer amount of ki being pulled into the area.

Or was the wind, perhaps, being caused by a gathering storm? Thunder rumbled in the distance, and in that same distance the sky was darkening. The presence of a powerful enough demon could cause one. Piccolo knew this firsthand.

It was then that he began to feel a chill creeping along his spine, which quickly spread to his limbs. The sensation was subtle at first, and he mistook it for his ki gathering in a new, unfamiliar way. But after it went on for more than a few seconds, he realized it was something worse. It was not his ki gathering. It was something within him depleting.

He knew something of demons – after all, he was one, in essence, and he had seen and felt them at work before. He knew what one of his "brothers" had once done to Krillin. He could guess at what was happening now. He might even be right. But when it came right down to it, he would rather not wait to find out.

Piccolo weighed his options quickly. Part of the demon's body was sinking beneath the earth, its insectile legs holding him hostage and taking him with it. Goku and Vegeta were gathering ki to them far above him, one of them ascended, and they might not be able to get to him in time (or even try to, in Vegeta's case). Gohan was rebounding from his kick. What could he do against something that used magic? He could let the spell run its course – not an option he liked. He could try to burn the demon away with any ki he could gather to him – which might take too long. He could try to break away. He could tear at its legs. He could…

…give in and wield what is rightfully his…

…what the hell? Amidst the wind and the roaring of the Saiyans' ki, Piccolo frowned and forgot about the demon that held him fast. That wasn't his thought. Was it?

He was jerked out of his momentary lapse by a sudden feeling of weightlessness. The chill had spread through his body now, and he could no longer feel anything below his knees or past his elbows. Face it, you fool, you're dying, he snarled to himself, and if you do you will spend the rest of eternity wandering the spaces between worlds. Do something now, anything, and worry about the consequences later!

Dimly, he remembered what happened the last time he did something in a life-or-death situation without thought for the consequences; he had jumped between Goku and a ki beam that would have killed the man. Had he not done so, the only man alive who had a chance at defeating Frieza would have died. As it was, he himself had been only a hair's-breadth away from dying, before Dende had found him and healed him. The Namekian child was not here now. If he did something foolish again, there would be no swift recovery. There would only be death.

But death was creeping up on him now. His limbs were numb, and he thought he could see his breath frosting in the air. He was beginning to feel comfortable, strangely so, even as he was dragged roughly into the earth.

Move, idiot! Now!

Yamcha was cleaning off his dining room table and watching the baseball playoffs on television when his phone rang. He reached for the remote control and its handy "mute" button and grunted a 'hello' into the receiver at the same time.

"Are you feeling this?" Krillin squawked into the phone.

Yamcha jerked his head away from the receiver. "Yeah. These playoffs are making me angry, too," he replied distractedly. "Number 48 should have – "

"No, Yamcha!" Krillin interrupted. "Use your ki! There's some wild stuff going on out there around Goku!"

Yamcha frowned and turned the television off, cursing. "You know, you had better not be mistaking another one of their sparring sessions for something serious," he sternly told his friend. "I don't want to have to pummel you into the ground again for making me miss a game." He fell silent as he focused his mind on the ki around him. Then he allowed his senses to roam farther out. As they spiraled out about him, he felt Krillin and Master Roshi, then Chi-Chi, then Tien and Chiaotzu. Finally, he located Goku, and the startled exclamation he gave nearly blistered Krillin's ears.

"See what I mean?" Krillin said anxiously. "There's some freaky stuff out there, and it's really bothering me."

"Well, what do you propose we do?" Yamcha yelped. "If that's Piccolo gone psycho again, neither of us are strong enough to deal it. We'd just get in the way!"

"But we have to try, don't we? You know, as a backup?"

Yamcha rubbed his temples with his free hand and sighed. "I won't lie to you, Krillin. Really. If Goku and the others can't handle it, neither can we. I'm not even sure what it is." Then he stopped himself and stared at the television. He was not watching the game, though. He found himself chasing after some phantom memory in his mind, something that screamed Think about me! at him.

"Yamcha?"

Krillin's voice barely registered for him. He was remembering something, something that had happened months ago.

"That isn't Piccolo any more. He's someone else, now!"

"What are you talking about?" Krillin asked Goku. "He's not himself, I know, but he can't be someone else!"

"I don't think he's lying, Krillin," Yamcha said quietly. "Whatever it was that we felt out here is coming from Piccolo. It's him, somehow."

"Clever boy," 'Piccolo' growled.

They had known it wasn't Piccolo, then. He had seen it himself in the forest beyond Goku's house, when the creature that had taken control of the Namek.

"Oh, Kami," Yamcha breathed. "It's another demon."

Krillin felt his face go pale when he heard Yamcha speak. Once the man had said it, he knew it was true. Whatever it was out there with Goku and the others right now had the same feel to it as the creature they had battled in the yard and on the Lookout. A demon. Damn it. Damn it. He would rather have welcomed a squadron of bloodthirsty Saiyan warriors with open arms before dealing with another supernatural monster.

"Yamcha, we need to go," he heard himself saying, his voice dull. "They needed us last time. They might need us again this time."

"Yeah, we should. Do you think I should bring another water bottle?" Yamcha's voice rose quickly to a near hysterical pitch, and he giggled.

"Sure," Krillin replied nervously, "and I'll bring the drink mix, so we can have something nice and sugary to sip on while they're getting their asses kicked."

"I'll bring the straws."

"I'll bring cups."

And they both slammed the phones down in their cradles. What a great time for Yamcha to freak out. Krillin could only imagine what he was doing right now. Hopefully, he was readying himself for battle. Unfortunately, he could also see him pacing around the house and giggling like a madman. Kami knew he felt like doing it. But Goku was out there, possibly fighting for his life, and Gohan was with him. Gohan, his buddy, his sparring partner. He couldn't leave Gohan behind, even if the boy was stronger than him.

Krillin was out of the house in record time, moving fast enough that Master Roshi only had enough time to inhale before his magazines were scattered all over the porch by the speed of his passing.

"My girls!"

His agonized wail followed Krillin into the sky.

Piccolo felt his eyes closing of their own accord. All around him, the earth was crumbling, and dirt rained down on his face. No! he thought viciously. I will not be buried alive, or taken to Hell as some kind of prize. I will not!

The demon above him chuckled, and he felt a sudden pressure begin building against his skin. "Good, young one," it crooned to him. "Lay still. Sleep. I will take you where you belong. Pay no attention to your pets. They will not miss you."

Give in and wield what is rightfully his…

Again, that thought! Only now, he could feel a well of power just beneath his consciousness, seething with impatience. It was vast and ancient, and it was surprisingly deep. It did not belong to him.

It does.

It could not belong to him.

It is yours. Take it. It will save you.

No! he snarled.

Please, take it. Please.

Please? His eyes opened in surprise, and the sudden presence of dirt blinded him. He blinked furiously, but he could not clear his vision. Kami, he was so cold, and the cold had never really bothered him before. What in Hell would have begged him to take something that was obviously a trap? Not Daimao – he would never beg. Not Kami. Nail, perhaps? He had never heard Nail speak to him before…

Please…

Piccolo shoved his own distracting thoughts aside. He was nearly underground. He could feel the strength of the Saiyans' ki, somewhere above him, but none of it was moving. Only he (and the Arachi) was. He thought quickly and realized he would have to take a gamble on his strength.

With effort, Piccolo raised one of his arms and pointed his palm at the demon above him. He smirked, and then he roared. A strong burst of ki exploded from his hand, straight into the belly of the Arachi. He heard it yelp. Dirt flew everywhere from the force of the blast, and a rush of heat dispelled the chill in his limbs. The lethargy that had overtaken him dissipated as well. Good, he thought. He rolled onto his stomach and brought his legs up underneath him. He would leap into the air as soon as he was certain the demon was no longer within reach.

But there was a soft buzzing in his skull that warned him against doing anything further.

The dust cleared after a few seconds, and Piccolo felt his jaw drop open despite himself. A large, dark shadow obscured the one cast by his own body. Then he heard laughter, and the pressure he had felt earlier began to build up around him again.

Nothing is this powerful! he thought in disbelief. But then he remembered Frieza's terrible strength and knew he was lying to himself.

And how could he have forgotten that the demon wielded magic? No doubt it had been shielding itself against just such an attack… and now his immediate reservoir of ki was depleted. He would be nearly defenseless against its next move.

"Foolish, foolish young one," it hissed. "Without the sense to lie down and give in."

Piccolo felt something beating frantically at the inside of his skull, and he knew without a doubt that whoever – or whatever – had been trying to give him advice was trying to tell him to act. He twisted underneath the Arachi and tried to roll out from under it, but its legs were everywhere. Every dodge, every move that he made was countered, and with every motion the buzzing grew louder. He ducked under one thrashing leg and barely managed to throw himself to the side when another slammed into the ground where he had just crouched with enough force to penetrate deeply into it. Above him, he heard Gohan yelling something, and he felt ki burst against the demon's back. It slid harmlessly off the Arachi.

Piccolo felt sick. Nothing they were doing to it seemed to matter. The creature appeared to be impervious to their ki, and without it, they were essentially normal martial artists. Their only strength was physical.

Take it! Take it! the voice shrieked – or was it his own subconscious providing these traitorous thoughts? Another taloned leg crashed down beside him, and it caught on his cloak. The fabric ripped. He squirmed out from inside it just as one of the creature's hands pierced it. Its talons tore it to shreds.

He would not be able to dodge it for much longer, at this rate. It kept coming closer to hitting him. He would have to –

Suddenly, claws pierced his back and slammed him into the ground. "Trapped, young one," the Arachi growled in his ear. He cried out as the talons dug deeper into his back and grated against bone. "Face your fate."

Gohan and Goku screamed his name, but Piccolo barely heard them over the demon's hiss and the roaring of blood in his own ears. He felt the surface of the strange power ripple inside him. It beckoned to him, whispered seductively in his ear. Time seemed to slow for him. His muscles were frozen. The creature's hand lifted high in the air. Something glistened on its fingers. It grinned and thrust its hand down. The Namek did not have to see it to know what was coming.

And Piccolo did surrender, but not to the Arachi.

Goku hurled another ball of ki at the demon crouched over Piccolo. The energy did not even faze it. With a cry, he threw two more ki balls. They were deflected harmlessly away. "It's got some kind of shield!" he yelled to Vegeta.

"I can see that, Kakarot!" Vegeta growled in reply, holding his ki ready in his hands.

"Don't waste your energy!"

"Don't tell me what to do!" The older Saiyan shot Goku a glare, and to his surprise, Goku found himself returning it. In turn, Vegeta's frown grew deeper, and he bore his teeth in a snarl.

Gohan interrupted them with a worried shout. "Piccolo's not moving any more, dad! We have to help him, now!"

Goku looked down in time to see the demon's hand thrust downward, aimed for the Namek's head. He gave a horrified shout and, with an astonishing burst of ki, flew toward the ground. Gohan followed closely behind him. They had to do something, but they would be too late.

They managed to come within thirty feet of the demon and Piccolo before their vision suddenly colored a brilliant white-red. They cried out – as did Vegeta above them – and shielded their eyes. Goku became aware of a surge of ki and knew the demon had done something to Piccolo, and he cursed himself for his helplessness – ascended or no, he dared not charge in blind.

Then he cursed himself for his stupidity, and he sent his senses spiraling out to discover what was happening below him. He felt one large ki and one presence – he hesitated to call it ki, because it was so different from everything he had felt before – and the presence was fading. As it faded, so did the light, and he was able to see and hear again. He uncovered his eyes and saw movement on the ground. He blinked. His vision cleared.

And his jaw dropped.

The demon was writhing in a large crater on the ground, with a faint gurgle coming from its mouth. Half of its legs and part of its abdomen were missing, as was one of its arms. Its remaining limbs were twisted away from its body at odd angles. It spat yellow blood onto the ground, or at least tried to. Most of it dribbled from its lips, sliding down its broken jaw to the ground. Piccolo was crouched near it.

Goku shook his head, as if to be certain he was indeed seeing what was before his eyes, and forced himself to land, before he dropped from the sky out of astonishment. He heard Gohan touch down behind him. Then he walked forward, toward the fallen creature and the Namek.

"Treachery! Treacherous little brat!" the Arachi hissed to Piccolo as it felt the Saiyan's approach. "You knew! You were, all along! Know that Daimao will come for you now."

"Shut up," Piccolo told it. "Leave, and make sure you tell your master what happened before he kills you."

The Arachi hissed again and vanished.

Piccolo stared at the bloody ground until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Goku, his mind told him, even as he whipped around and faced the man. "Goku," he said aloud. Goku. Pure and simple. Simple. Don't think about what you just did, he told himself. Do not concern yourself with what he thinks. You are still yourself. You are Piccolo.

At first, Goku's gaze was fixed on the Namek's face. It was rigid with some emotion he could not immediately place. Anxiety? That could not be. What could possibly make Piccolo anxious, now that the demon was… gone…

He felt his brain grind to a halt as he met Piccolo's piercing gaze. No. No. Not this again.

The whites of Piccolo's eyes were fine, but the irises…

His eyes were red again.

Before I get comments on it, no, I'm not doing the possessed thing again. That's old history. Have any of you seen the Dragonball manga covers? The ones with Piccolo? Check them out.

As per my profile, I am on anxiety meds to try to get rid of the random, non-medically caused dizziness I've been having for the past three years (the doctor thinks it's stress-related). It's a pain getting used to, but I think it is working. I have also been very busy writing my Master's Thesis (and am very close to being done) and planning my wedding (also close). Hopefully soon I'll be able to stop making excuses and make with the writing instead.

Do let me know if I'm being inconsistent with something or if I'm messing up somewhere. I haven't watched DBZ in about five years now (for shame!), so I would not be surprised if I am making some characters OOC or forgetting some very major character attributes. Input is welcome. Just leave a review or drop me a line.

'Til next chapter,

~Dreamwraith