Nikita

The rain beat down on me in endless sheets. Wave after wave of droplets fell upon my hair, upon my face, upon my body. They poured over the blood that soaked my hands, cleansing the skin of the putrid red filth. I was held down in pain, doubled over in an endless embrace with it; unable to move, even though a far greater pain stood over me.

I could not see my attacker, could not hear his words or his laugh, but I felt him, through my heart, through my mind, I could feel his overriding hatred of me. I had no way in which to defend myself, and there was no one to help me, I was alone, again.

I sobbed in agony, my body convulsing in fear and distaste. I didn't want to die alone. Of all the ways I knew I could die, I'd always feared that I would be alone as it happened. The blood pumped forth from my stomach, and onto my hands yet again. The rain continued to strike down upon me, till I could taste the thin liquid within my very soul. I wanted to cry out, to scream for a saviour, someone to be with me as I perished; yet I knew that no one would come.

I relinquished to the pain, allowed it to swallow me whole, consuming the last bits of life that remained in me. I made one last, futile attempt to glimpse my attacker, but my head was struck down again, and I was knocked backwards, and off the cliff that I lay perched atop of. I plummeted down, alone, for a second, my assailant finally making himself audible to me. He laughed. He hollered in joy at my loneliness, at my anguish. The last thing I saw was my blood pour out of my stomach and onto my hands, only to be washed away by even more rain. Then I hit the ground.

* * *

It had been a week and a half since we had defeated Yush, yet the dream remained. It was locked within my head like a fortune within a vault. It left me sleepless, tired, and frightened every time I witnessed it. I didn't know what it meant, and I think that's what scared me the most.

I rose up from my bed, and swept a lock of blonde hair out of my eyes, yawning the whole while. I needed sleep, but I knew that any attempt to reach such a state would be futile. The dreams haunted my mind while I rested, like a ghost I couldn't fight, like I didn't want to fight. I got up from my bedstead and headed over to the refrigerator near my room. Popping the small device ajar, I found a drastic lack of edible food within, and made a mental note to go back into the city and pick up some more food later in the day.

I yawned again, and wiped away what little sleep I had in my eye. I went to my dresser, which stood directly opposite my bed, took out some fresh training clothes, and then headed into the small bathroom that accompanied my living quarters. I quickly changed, and then looking into the mirror, found out just how bad my insomnia had become.

Bags lay heavy and impenetrable under my eyes, while my hair was frizzy, tossed, and untameable. I tried to blink away the haunting visage that stared at me through the mirror, with no success. Slowly, tiredly, I patted down my hair, and tied it back into a ponytail with a small ribbon. I shook my head once again before exiting the bathroom and once more hopelessly searching for some food.

Once my hunt had proved fruitless, I told myself to go up and start training again. Maybe that will make me tired enough to go to sleep. Even as I thought though, I knew it was a lie. I climbed the thin, metal ladder that protruded from my bedroom, and found myself in the all-too familiar training room.

I pushed myself out of the open hole at the top of the latter, and sat down on the red tiled floor. I lazily felt around for the lid to the opening, quickly finding it and placing it over the exposed air. I got up from the ground, and began to do some rather easy stretches, making sure all my muscles were well prepared for the mornings' activities.

As I stretched, I noticed a small buzz sound sheathing through the air, saturating my ears with its annoying hum. I realized that it wasn't the gravity machine that was doing it, nor the space pod itself, but it was I. I can't be that sleep-deprived, I thought, partly scared for my own well-being. Even being so, I went on with the stretches, rationalizing that the buzz would go away if I simply tired myself out.

Once I'd finished with the stretches, I walked over to the central core of the space pod Capsule Corp had so delightfully given me, and flicked on the main computer. A whizzing sound shot through the pod, as the view screen on the main pillar directly in front of me came to life. It read: Gravity Level = Normal. Energy Remaining = 68%. Hours of 500G Gravity Time Remaining = 85.

Yeah right, I don't even use a tenth of that, I probably have a week or two left before I have to recharge the battery on this thing. I punched a few buttons on the control panel beneath the screen, and set the gravity to thirty times Earth normal. Upon pressing the "Enter" button, a crash of artificially created gravity came crashing down on me. It was no challenge to stand, or even walk around under that level of gravity; after all, I had been training under it for practically five months. Still, I didn't deem myself powerful enough to progress up to forty times gravity, since I still often found myself physically wasted after an intense bout of training.

I moved away from the pillar, slowly collecting my breath in preparation for my training to commence. I breathed in deeply, shut my eyes for a split second, then opened them and exhaled. My mind was washed clear, a piece of unblemished white, just waiting to be marked. I quickly powered up my ki, charging it to its absolute max before channelling all of it into my hands. Lifting the two fists upward, I quickly levelled them in the air, and then extended my fingers outward, so my palms were exposed to the air. I fired both charges of ki simultaneously, pouring a white-emerald stream of power out of them, and through the air.

I had less than a split second to alter the course of the beams before they would've torn their way through the centre of the pod, and ending my day of training extremely prematurely. But since I'd been having practice at such alterations for practically my whole teenage life, I easily split the path of the pair apart before any damage could be done. I then circled both beams around the central pillar, so that they passed within an inch of each other on the other side of the column. They continued to travel in a circular path, repeatedly coming just millimetres away from a collision with one another, and the fatal explosion that would be sure to follow.

They looped around the pillar a number of times, increasing in speed with each pass. Once both blasts were sufficiently accelerated, I wrenched on them with my mind, tearing them away from their spherical paths, and sending them straight towards me. I brought my forearms up in a seemingly meagre display of defence, and with all the built up momentum the blasts carried with them, both smashed full force into my arms.

The ki exploded upon contact, blanketing the room in its drowning white light. My bare forearms burned with pain as the energy contained within the balls was released. I locked my eyes shut so they would not be damaged as the ki finished discharging. A few seconds passed, and the energy slowly dissipated all around, till there was nothing left but the throbbing within my arms.

I lowered both of my appendages, wanting to rub the soreness out of them, but instead indulging myself in it, allowing it to consume my body as a whole. Physical training could only do so much; at one point or another, you had to gut it out. I quickly zanzokened away from my position on the floor of the ship, reappearing in mid-air near the centre pillar. I could scarcely see the rays of light from the just dawning sun; the windows of the pod were tinted too darkly for any natural sunlight to seep through. I wanted to go outside and enjoy the world I was working so hard to protect, but at the same time I knew that any wasted time would only set me farther behind my fellow Z Warriors.

I began to practice a series of basic punches and kicks on the air, envisioning a make-believe opponent, and mapping out an attack strategy against it. I shot around the room, throwing as much power and speed as I could into each attack, knowing that with each blow, each swipe of the air, I was growing stronger. I soon grew caught up in my imaginary sparring match, finding it almost…exhilarating to be able to fight an opponent that didn't fight back. Wave after wave of attacks I sent after him, an ocean of contempt for his bodiless soul building within my mind.

My excitement and interest grew, to a point where I even gave my fake opponent a name: Robert. I thought it foolish at the time that I would be childish enough to be playing with pretend people; but before long I was lost in my hatred for Robert, lost in the way in which he expertly avoided each of my blows, forcing me to lunge at him once again, only to miss and repeat the same procedure over and over. I found myself grunting with exertion at one point, perhaps ten minutes into the match, again thinking it strange that I would have such detestation for an unreal opponent. Again though, Robert's incessant movements, his over-powering quickness and agility quickly distracted my mind. I continued fighting with him for several more minutes, before something in the back of my mind realized that the name "Robert" held some importance to me, some sub-real meaning that I'd long since forgotten. I had no time to think of this though, since Robert was once again driving me to frustration.

I soon developed a game of cat and mouse with Robert, finding that his pattern of defence was almost totally chaotic, and impossible to decipher. Beads of sweat ran down my forehead, my hair was damp, and I suddenly become conscious of the fact that he and I had been going at it for a little over an hour. My arms and legs burned, begging me to cease my hapless attack; yet I continued on, creating in my mind Robert's ugly face, which held giddiness and laughter within it; he was laughing at me. I pressed on, each punch, each attack becoming more and more desperate. Robert's face was familiar to me, I knew that, but I could not pinpoint where its origin came from.

We continued to play, another hour passing, another batch of muscles crying out in agony. I put all thoughts aside, allowing Robert's face to encompass my vision, knowing that its repulsiveness could only fuel my training. My breathing was far too laboured for my own good, and even though my heart was probably my strongest muscle, even it seemed to be on the edge of a breakdown, like it couldn't stand up to Robert. Soon my arms were numb, then my legs and neck followed suit. At that point even I wanted to give up and admit defeat, but I told myself to continue on, and not let Robert beat me.

Anger could not describe my zealousness for Robert, my undying hatred and abhorrence. With a body limp from exertion, and a mind as numb to match, I found that Robert barely had to try to avoid me anymore, that his speed had increased exponentially, while mine had only faltered. For the final few minutes, a burning fear bore its way into my heart, as I realized Robert was going to win, that he had defeated me against all odds.

With one last, terrifyingly desperate lunge, I shot out towards Robert, a fist outstretched. He fired away from it with ease, leaving me to fall to the floor of the now steaming hot space pod. I lay on my chest for a number of seconds, unable to move in the slightest. I felt Robert move down towards me, till he stood just overhead. I sucked in as much oxygen as my lungs could take in, my very blood burning in pain and numbness. I somehow pushed myself up from the floor, my body supported shakingly on my hands and knees, and I looked up towards Robert's position.

There was an instant of non-understanding, of utter confusion, which was promptly swallowed whole by terror. I abruptly realized just who Robert was, who he had been, and what he was doing here. My father stood over me, his rough face smiling wickedly, his arms crossed in gleeful pleasure. I wanted to scream, to cry out in anger, but I could not, my throat was dry and hoarse. "Pathetic." He said, his voice full of hate and odium. I killed you… I killed you, you son of a bitch, I thought, my body convulsing with the fear that ran down my spine.

"Now go along and be a good girl," he said as he brought his arm down from his chest and ran his hand through my hair. My back shivered in fear, in kindly panic. I could not defeat him, I could not do anything to him, and there was no one to help me, again. I was alone, and there would be no one to rescue me. My hands shook uncontrollably beneath me, as they clenched themselves into fists.

"No." I whispered, my voice barely audible through my cracked throat. "I… I won't, let, you do this to me… not again." I tried to speak the words with conviction, but even I knew just how feeble they really were.

"You can't stop me, and I think you know that." No, I did stop you, and I'll stop you again if I have to. I… I told myself I'd never let another person like you do this to another person like me, and… and I can't go back on my word, not now. My ki ran through my arms, a tidal wave of power rushing across my body. I won't leave someone else alone like you did to me father, I can't let you. The power formed itself into my hands, which were now alive and tingling with sensation. Never, never again. Energy the like of which I'd never felt before surged through me, burning its way into my palms, into my fists. Go back to hell father; it's the only place a man like you belongs.

I turned up to my father, my eyes stinging with tears and pain, my entire body vibrating in suffering and power, and I let loose all that anger that was pent up within me. A beam with a width far more than that of the pod sprung forth from my palms, heading straight at my father. I watched in helplessness as his entire body disappeared out of view before the beam could reach him. Fuck you. Fuck you to hell goddamnit! I cried out in my mind, watching with disgust as my beam tore its way through the roof of the space pod, and pouring out into the sky, a shaft of light powerful enough to brighten the sky, yet not nearly powerful enough to kill the demons that haunted my mind.

I fell to the ground, my body utterly used up, my mind fried and discouraged beyond belief. I made one last heave with my body, only to fall back down in pain, my body finally getting its way as I passed out in pain. Next time I won't be alone father, and I'll make you pay for what you've done to me.