Harvest of the Soulless

By Poe

Chapter Eleven:

Harvest of the Soulless

"Here, the faithful implore us,

But all these signs were chosen

and ignored.

All that is righteous,

we tell them, has withered with the harvest.

All is nothing once troubles find us.

Still, they try to lead us,

to heard us like beasts of burden,

to toss us into happiness. 

Oh, we are such foolish creatures,

we are the soulless.

Our home is a distant place,

and the air around us, each day, grows so lonely with song."

THREE YEARS LATER

            I threw down the pregnancy test in disgust. Tears flooded my eyes, tears that seemed to be generated from the core of me, and my fists clenched. I glared at the floor, where the pregnancy test had fallen, and the room blurred with tears. This was happening all over again, and I felt my stomach churn in nausea.

            Negative.

            As usual.

            I had tried for a year to become pregnant with Vegeta's child. It must sound ridiculous, I know, but things had come out happening just as he had said those three years ago. Emotion after emotion, I was created into the very person, the very whore, he swore I would be. I wanted his child, and I would not be satisfied until I did. Sadly enough, nor would he.

            I remembered it clearly, all the details of those three years. Things were frantic, even in times of calm, because feelings stormed quietly within that would not be put to rest. Events started taking place that would build up to this moment, and I was complacent and so very ignorant. I suppose all of us were, and it's little surprise we were so unsuspecting. This was a reality too twisted to imagine happening to us.

The real story leading up to this moment where I am crying into my hands on the floor because I am not pregnant began when I first started dating Trunks. However, the point of deterioration began three years ago when I was given a choice. A choice between Vegeta or Trunks. As you know, I chose Trunks.

I had stayed with Trunks, thinking that it was what I needed. I thought I was fulfilled, and that we were meant for each other. It was just like those months we first spent together, only alight with the glow of renewal. Those obstacles, I thought, were there to bring us together. Instead, the shadows of my past chased me down and consumed me.

            Trunks gave me affection and love, so much so that he moved in with me. Once I was 19, I had moved to a new home closer to the city and my job. I was accepted into a good college, but I was taking a year off to figure out what I was going to do with my life. Trunks proved to be such a suitable partner, he moved in with me, and tried to help me with career options. He understood what it was like to be part human part Saiyan, and then not know which side to acquiesce to.

            I decided to stick to being human for a while, just so I could have that option open for me in the future. Trunks, meanwhile, would lend me emotional support. Soon, furniture and clothes that weren't mine began to scatter about the house. Pictures of us together cluttered any mantle, and we even shared a bed. Trunks and I were closer than ever, much to my father and mother's delight.

            Our relationship, at least my side of it, was strictly platonic. It was simple, modest, and everything I should want a relationship to be. Inadvertently, we had tried to rid ourselves of Saiyan instinct, and our actions were meant to be parallel to a human's. We delighted in pretending that we had forgotten the Saiyan side of us, except when it could be used to our advantage. But as I was to learn, things, particularly matters regarding emotions or complications thereof, seldom work to your benefit.

            My father later learned this himself. I had grown to love him once again, forgiving him for the atrocity he committed those years ago. One night, however, he surprised me. My father admitted to having feelings for Bra. He told me that he thought she was growing into a woman, that she was beautiful and that if he were younger and single, he wouldn't mind being with her and maybe starting a family.

He had followed the same path as I had, which, oddly enough, made me love him more. First he had let his emotions govern him, then he had realized what was right for him, and then he had settled with that. For me it was Trunks, for him it was my mother.

He and my mother got back together, without even having to divorce, and it seemed their relationship was a perfect one set in stone. They never spoke of the affair, and were affectionate and loving as they had once been. It almost made me think that the best thing to do in a relationship was to shut up and pretend nothing was wrong.

But that course of action was exactly what led me, a twenty-one year-old to be in tears because I wasn't pregnant. It might not have been the cause, but it certainly helped this hell blossom.

It was about a year into our renewed relationship that I began to feel the affliction creep on again. An obsession, like a sickness, took over once again. I wanted Vegeta again. I would think about him constantly, he possessed my thoughts all day. I had Trunks, but all I could do was want Vegeta.

At first I hid this infatuation like a secret, like I had done before. I tried to tuck it away in the corner of my mind, but it was so persistent and clawed at my awareness. It was ready to break free always, even as it was young again, and it was trapped in a cage it hated to be in. 

Of course, there came a time when I could not stand to hide it anymore. I couldn't suffocate it, I couldn't ignore it, I had to confront it. No matter how much I tried it was always there and it wouldn't go away. I had to do whatever it took to get rid of it, and so I committed a drastic act.

I went to Vegeta.

I felt horrible doing it, and weak, but I just had to. It was so easy to find him, and I passed by his residence frequently, so I could easily make up an excuse. He was still living in the gravity room at Capsule Corporation, but probably only because he had nowhere else to train. It was rumored that he and Bulma had reunited, but I didn't let those rumors deter me.

So, on the way to Capsule Corporation, I stopped at the gravity room.

At first, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I raised my hand to knock, but couldn't knock. He already knows your there, I told myself, just knock and get it over with. But then I debated why I had come in the first place. I tried to reason with myself that it was a problem, and that I was merely confronting it. I wasn't a coward, I had to face my fear. I just had to push away all doubts and go for it.

Before I could knock, the door had opened from the other side. I stood there, frozen, and watching the door open anxiously to see if he was there. Silly, I know, but after not seeing him for so long, it was something else. The door opened all the way, and there he stood.

I remember how he looked so clearly. Vegeta was a bit different, slightly older, but still handsome. He was clad in what looked like shorts designed for training in the gravity room, an ugly color, I remember, and was shirtless and sweaty. I blushed, mostly at the sight of his scars, those familiar scars I first saw in the forest after discovering my father and Bulma.

It was sort of overwhelming to see him as handsome as ever, with ugly shorts and not too much age added onto him. He still looked older, almost too old for my taste, but I had to appreciate that he didn't look his age.

There was something else about him that changed as well. He seemed almost more evil, like he was gearing up for a cynical comment the moment he saw me. His gaze made me almost wish I had worn something nicer, in some strange way. When he looked me over, he looked as though he was surveying a plot of land.

"Vegeta," I started, not really knowing what to say but deciding anything would be fine, "We need to talk."

He smirked, the new, stronger evil in his eyes flaring drastically. "Talk?" he started, that same lust present in his voice, "Whatever for?"

Memories flooded back to me and a panic rose. I was nervous and scared all over again. Vegeta looked so evil and bitter I almost feared for my life.

Before I could respond, he did something I wouldn't have imagined he would've done. His arm looped around my waist and he crushed me to his bare chest. I gasped at his gall and his assumptions, not to mention in surprise.

"What are you doing?" I questioned, feelings flooding me before I could think.

A complacent smirk. "You should know. I've done it before."

I felt a look of offense spread over my face. "Is this what you think I came for?"

"Of course. What else would you come for? To exchange gossip?"

"I told you, we need to talk. And no, it's not gossip."

His fingers found their way to my hair, still not brushed and unkempt, and he slipped them up my neck into my hair.

 "You've changed," he noted, "and yet you're still my Saiyan whore."

"Don't change the subject," I snapped, "and no, I'm not your Saiyan whore!"

"You know, after all this time, I wonder if you're still good in bed."

I gasped again. I knew he was just saying that to spite me, but he had changed. Even though it was a joke, I'm sure, I knew he was more evil and sick than he had been before. "Pervert! What makes you so sure you'll find out?"

            As soon as those words left my mouth he did something I should've predicted but failed to. Vegeta kissed me, fiercely as he had done before, but with more skill than I remembered him doing before. I felt joy gather in me, joy I hated for being there.

            I didn't think to pull away, but only to pretend I was disgusted and not kiss back. Surprisingly, I didn't even think of Trunks at first. It took a full 10 or so seconds of just standing there shocked while he ravaged me before I remembered.

            I pulled back, automatically. He expected it, I knew, but thought of my hesitancy as an obstacle waiting to be conquered.

            "Trunks, I'm going out with Trunks," I blurted out, trying to regain orientation.

            "Yes, well, despite his girly demeanor, I doubt he'll take it well that we slept together."

            "What? Oh, you mean, that we will sleep together." When I realized what I had said, my eyes widened and I was about to take it back before he kissed me again. He had tricked me into saying it, but now he had permission.

            Isn't this what you want? I asked myself. It was really what I came for, despite the fact that I had tried to convince Vegeta otherwise. I was supposed to be happy. But as he kissed me, and as I enjoyed it, my pride screamed at me to pull away.

            So I did.

            Vegeta was surprised this time when I pulled away, but anger coated his visage once again.

            "Repetitive, aren't we?"

            I scoffed. "For a reason."

            "Such forced modesty will not impress me, little girl."

            "I'm not trying to impress you, I'm being honest."

            "Are you?" he started, " Then why isn't you pretend to be in love with my son, and hate me?"

            I grumbled something under my breath. "What?" Vegeta snapped.

            "I said, 'I never said I hated you'," I responded harshly, though my words were kind.

            Strangely enough, those words formed a relationship between us. After I said that, it was almost as if we were a couple again. It was that fast and sudden, and it had started as a submission on my part. But to be honest, I gained more than I lost.

            Our time had ended that evening with no extremely intimate contact, surprisingly. I had stopped him and told him I needed to go back. He hadn't been pleased with the idea of me rejecting him, but he knew I would come back. He knew I could not stand to be too long without him.

We met in secret at the gravity room from then on. I would go there when I needed escape, it was my place to run away. When Trunks and I would get into a fight, I would go there for comfort. Not that Vegeta would comfort me, but his presence was enough.

            One time, I remembered, Trunks and I had fought to the point that I almost kicked him out of the house. Instead, though, I yelled something at him and then left. The first thing I did was rush over to the gravity room, where at least having my Saiyan needs comforted would make me forget.

            When I got there, we did what we always did. Rip out whatever gains we could from each other in any way possible. We had started kissing, and tears began to stream down my face and sobs choked me. Vegeta stopped at once and pulled away from me, staring at me with shock as though I had just burst into flames instead of into tears.

            I explained everything to him and he grew angrier and angrier. Vegeta hated that I was still with Trunks, and he would not hesitate in hurting Trunks as he had done before if it didn't mean I would think of him as jealous.

            He made me swear I would end my relationship with Trunks. It was easy for me, considering how Trunks and I had just been in an argument and I was still angry with him. But honestly, I regretted giving Vegeta my word that the relationship would be terminated. Trunks was my support, and had always been there in difficult times. But when Vegeta convinced me that I was a fool for being with him, I couldn't help but agree.

            Trunks was devastated when I told him I wanted to end the relationship the next day. He tried to talk me out of it, but I was stubborn in my decision. I told him about the affair, and how I was just waiting for the chance or the excuse to end this relationship, because it wasn't right. Our arguments proved to be just that.

            It was a big step, but it was something I should've done a long time ago. I only chose Trunks over Vegeta because it seemed to be the right thing to do. I undervalued expediency and my own feelings, and dug myself into a hole that took a promise to get out of. By giving up Trunks, I was giving into my emotions, not Vegeta. Perhaps that was the right thing all along.

            So, as a result, Trunks moved out. I stayed in my own apartment, but frequently saw Vegeta. He was considerably smug after Trunks and I broke-up, noticeably so. In his own twisted way, he said that the situation was appropriate to have his child. As disgusting and chauvinistic as it sounds, I wanted to, with all of me.

            The legacy gene was taking its painful course.

            Because of this, I had asked Vegeta about Saiyan traditions regarding marriage. I asked if there was such a thing in Saiyan culture, and if it was different from human marriage. He said it was, and in doing so, explained a great deal of his relationship with Bulma.

            There were two different kinds of marriage. One was a sort of game of favorites, a brief ceremony nobles performed to affirm which of their many lovers was their best. It was a one-sided vow that kings often performed on their concubines that basically said that the concubine would be with no other, but the king could be with whomever.

            The second kind of marriage was where two lovers made a vow that would bind them to each other for five of Vegetasei's years. They were allowed to sleep with other people, but oddly enough, not to "love" anyone else. It was tradition to renew these vows every five "years".   

I asked Vegeta if he would like to just marry the human way, and he refused. Because it was customary, he would only marry me the first kind of way, which meant he could still sleep with anyone he wished. It took me a long time to settle for that, but I did, on the notion that Vegeta would prefer me to a human because of the legacy gene.

As far as I know, I was right.

So, we married the perverse, Saiyan way. Trunks was blissfully out of the picture, and I was free to give into my premature maternal needs. Sometimes, I guess, I missed Trunks, especially due to the abruptness of his departure. He was cut out of my life and I couldn't help but miss him at times. But I had Vegeta, and I was feeling something I could call happiness.

That is, until this nightmare struck.

I'm 21 years old and I am perpetually troubled, infuriatingly annoyed, and so very angry because I can't get a child. I look back with dark humor at the time when I told my father I would abort a child if I had one with Vegeta. Now, having a child was my new obsession. And like the obsession I had with Vegeta, it wouldn't go away.

When I would tell Vegeta about it, and seek comfort with him, he would push me away. He only wanted me if I could bear him children, it seemed. Even he couldn't give me comfort, the last man who I thought had the power too.

As for my father, I believe whether he will end up with Bra, Bulma, or my mother, is clear. It's all too clear, and sometimes it scares me. I feel I cannot turn to a man who is conquered by his emotions for support, which troubles me in these harsh times that dictate my life. For both of us, the search of happiness is relentless, subconscious, and possibly hopeless. Instinct is our master, and if at times we are too blind to see that, how will we find joy?

Time passes, the world changes, and we change, but the future is always uncertain and the present full of questions. Life becomes contradictory, so much so I even wonder if I exist or if all of this is just a frenzied dream. How can I love and want a man who could never make me happy? How could I want to bring a child into such a desperate, miserable existence as mine?

Such an existence makes me think back to when things were right. As a child, a peace settled over me that was so satisfying, I was blind to it. Now I lead I life where I claw at comfort in a distant place, reaching but never having. Vegeta, Trunks, my father, sometimes they all blur into one person. A person who never give me what I want.

I reached out and took the pregnancy test, thoughts pounding inside of me like a heartbeat. Something was calling to me, something that wasn't a longing for Vegeta or a goddamn baby. A river, a water, a flowing edge I could be lost in and lose the world and everyone in it for just a second.

Putting the pregnancy test in the trash, one image came flittering to my head. Two months ago, I had attempted suicide. It's not surprising, I suppose. After "marrying" Vegeta, I thought the turmoil and chaos would end. But when it didn't, I panicked. It seemed I never got what I wanted, like happiness or a child, and one night I supposed I never would.

I swallowed handfuls of pills, tears staining my cheeks. I couldn't get a grip, I wasn't even thinking, I just wanted to end it all. I wanted to go to a place where I didn't need anything anymore, where I was just happy. As I finished putting the pregnancy test in the trash, the image of the pills scattered on the floor came to me.

They were red, I remember, and I started to think of how I never would see color again. When I had taken the pills, I had found peace by thinking of a void of nothingness. Now, I saw it as a nightmare. No sight, sound, smell, taste, or touch, just a black abyss. It scared me, but I ignored my fears.

Of course, I didn't die. I was Saiyan, and it's nearly impossible for a Saiyan to overdose. The very thing that was killing me, wouldn't let me die.

Sighing, I walked out of the room and went to my bedroom. I assumed I would never find release, and the emptiness inside of me swallowed all hope. As I walked into my bedroom and saw the light from the open window hitting the sheets so they glowed, I tried to think of all the things that were worth living for.

Was one of them Vegeta?

I sat down on the bed and saw one of the gloves he had left behind. I reached over to pick it up, not knowing why. Holding it in my hand, tears began to surface again.

There was so much hate around me, so much need. Living as me was like being in a car crash that kept happening over and over. Everything breaks and splinters and hurts so much, but you never really think deeply about what's going on. You don't think about if things are going to change, and if you do, you don't believe in these thoughts.

I broke off from my daydreaming quickly, because I knew I had better things to do. I was going to get up, and go clean the house, because I had many trivial and disposable purposes, and that was one of them. If I were to die tomorrow, at least the floors would be unswept and the dishes still dirty in the sink. No one else would miss me, but at least my chores would.

Before I got up to attend to them, however, I looked down at the glove I was holding. Vegeta's training glove, similar to the one he wore when he first kissing me and raised it to touch my chin and neck. It was probably one of the only romantic things he had ever done for me, and the tears that had receded moments ago, came back as my grief overcame me.

If I had a soul, I could feel it wilt as I looked at the glove.

Damn the world, I thought, throwing the glove to the floor so I could sob into my hands.

Damn it for being so beautiful.