Welcome to chapter one of Arachne, the story of Vegeta's mother.
Notes you will need:
As it says up there and in the summary, this is the story of Vegeta's mother. What does that mean? It means that at least half of it will take place on Vegeta-sei. Therefore, expect violence and such. Also, I must point out that this is rated "R" for a reason. It contains graphic violence, adult situations (with NON-graphic descriptions), obscene language (but certainly not an overload), and so forth. This is your warning, and I'll add to it as I see fit.
Now, I could make it mildly complicated and not divulge certain information, but I'm in a nice mood, so here's some more details you might like to have.
It switches between two POV's, one you'll obviously be able to figure out, for obvious reasons (check the summary again if you don't get that), and another you should be able to figure out, so try not to get too confused. That's not my objective.
If you have any questions, email GuardianLethe@hotmail.com
A huge thanks to BluEydMnstr for beta-ing!
Arachne, Chapter 1 - Vitalius Roseus
Thunder wracked section three of the south wing of the Briefs residence. I screamed as my body deepened the indention in my floor for the twenty-sixth time. My right hand flew to the throbbing spot at the small of my back, trying to diffuse some of the concentrated fire through massage.
"This has to stop!" I cried, forcing my muscles to relax as I had so many times before. I sucked in breath after breath, the blood coursing through my veins slowly losing its heat, my pain ebbing.
As my body eventually permitted, I raised my arms, gripping the bed, and pulling myself onto the soft mattress. I let the silken white sheets caress my skin as I tried, half-heartedly, to keep my eyes open, gazing up at the moon through the open window.
In the end, as always, sleep won over, enclosing me in its never-ending darkness.
This was my curse, the punishment I had unknowingly brought upon myself.
But it was worth it...
It was worth knowing.
· · · · · · · · · · · · ·
You can suckle all you want. They aren't getting any harder.
I laughed inwardly at the man atop me as I reached towards the bedside table and brought an amber bottle to my lips. I drank languidly, letting the rich liquid tingle my taste buds and warm my belly.
The man grunted at my reaction to his...ministrations, if you will. "Aren't you going to enjoy your last minutes on this wretched planet, Onna?" he asked gruffly.
I returned the bottle to its rightful place and grinned slowly. "Last minutes or not, I find it hard to believe that you're even considering this remotely enjoyable."
He smirked as he began to move faster, trying to invoke some kind of feeling within me. As it was with all the others, he too was unsuccessful. And then, finally, he collapsed, his sweaty body pressing me farther into the hard bed.
I rolled my eyes before pushing Ugly off of me. "It's time," I announced, standing and pulling my gear back on. "You've three minutes to clean up and relocate yourself to TC 12." I lifted one of the cards made of silver and tossed it over my shoulder before sauntering out of the room and into a narrow hallway.
A passing woman, wearing her favorite skimpy, green dress smirked at me. "Another one bites the dust?"
The grin never wavered as I dropped my own card into the appropriate slot on a door and turned the large handle. I couldn't prevent the slight chuckle that escaped. "If I were you, I'd use this free time to call up the local cemetery and tell them to get a fresh hole ready. That is...if I leave enough remains."
The bumbling moron stepped out of the bedroom. At first, he was a bit sheepish under Nyanko's belittling gaze, but he lost no time thrusting his head into the air and marching past the both of us.
Nyanko watched his form as it disappeared into the training chamber. She mimicked my earlier laughter. "Be merciful, Phæra. That one looks scrumptious. How about leaving me a—" she licked her lips, "—small present for dinner?"
"You've got it," I promised. I entered the chamber slowly, sizing up the sluggish male.
What an interesting finale. The Elite would soon be on the dinner plate of a wealthy whore. The sheer idea of it was enough to bring my blood to a roaring boil.
"Are you ready, Onna?"
"Always," I proclaimed, dropping into my usual stance.
He lunged at me, going for a frontal assault—or what I assume to have been a frontal assault, considering he had yet to do so much as bust a capillary. Most of the men who had fallen victim to my challenges weren't quite this bad. At the rate he was going, I wouldn't break a sweat. I should have known from his earlier stench of alcohol that he wouldn't be worth my time.
Once I had had enough of his feeble attempts, I powered up, and sent a tiny ki blast through his stomach.
He fell to the ground, grabbing onto my feet. "Please, they sent me here for you. I must succeed."
"What? Who?" I had witnessed many a man pleading for his life before, but this was certainly a new one.
He smiled in his growing lunacy. "It doesn't matter. Kill me. You're still going to die. They'll hunt you down and—"
I'm not exactly sure how to explain the sound one's head makes as it splatters all over a white tiled floor. I yawned while flicking some of the repulsive goop off of my training pants. I walked over to a small box on the wall and lifted an intercom.
"Clean up needed. Oh he's dead alright. Have the parts you don't have to scrape up wrapped and sent to Mistress Nyanko."
· · · · · · · · · · · · ·
The dreams began around two months ago, when I gathered the dragonballs and wished for the knowledge that my father had possessed for years. When my desires for this knowledge had become too urgent to ignore, I finally asked Daddy.
The look in his eyes shut me up. I don't know if you're close to your father, and I certainly can't say that we've had the best relationship, but I can read his emotions, even when he only shows them for a split second. I know immediately when I've crossed some line with him. But I didn't receive that look this time. What I saw scared me.
For a moment, his eyes were blazing; alive with the memories of a life we were never to speak of. And then, he shut down, a fog creeping over my father's onyx orbs.
So pumping Daddy for information was out of the question.
I turned to the only one who I knew could help me find the answers I needed.
Shenrong.
You'd be surprised how easy it is to track down the dragonballs these days. Even without Gokuh-san's shunkun idou, I had all seven in less than six hours.
Shenrong was detached, as usual…eternally worried about his sleep. Why is it that all dragons are always trying to sleep as much as possible and become highly irritable when they are woken? Are they just that lazy? And if the dragon of Namek only spoke Namekian, does that mean our dragon only speaks one language, and you have to speak that language to get your wish? I should test him next time.
This time, however, I was too caught up in my wish and the fruits of it.
As soon as the massive and ancient book appeared in front of me, I tackled it, savoring the smell and feel of the tattered pages. It actually took me a few minutes to realize that not only was Shenrong still awaiting my second wish, but also that the text of the book was entirely in Saiyan—and not the modern Saiyan that my father had taught me the basics of.
"Sometime today, Mortal," he had boomed, giving me a look of total boredom.
"For my second wish, I want to be able to read, write, and fully understand all of the Saiyan language."
All in all, it had been a magnificent evening, the balls flying over my head to their new destinations where they would lay dormant for the next twelve months, as I dropped to the ground with my book, initializing the journey that I had been longing for.
That was how it had all begun—simply and innocently enough. Then slowly, the dreams came. At first, they weren't so bad. But then again, I suppose when someone has their first taste of a drug, things aren't so bad either. And that's what the dreams are like; so painful, and so terrifying, at times, that I'm scared to go to sleep…at any time of the day, but still so addictive and mystifying. Like I said, it's worth it. After all, you can't get something for nothing.
· · · · · · · · · · · · ·
As one might imagine, I've been called a lot of things in my lifetime. My clients usually prefer the ever so common "baby," later followed by your customary "whore," once they've fallen upon their knees on the floor of my training chamber. My colleagues are the ones who came up with the handle "Black Widow."
Here on Vegeta, it is considered treason to murder in cold blood. Don't get me wrong. If someone were to rob me, I could terminate him or her, no questions asked, but killing sprees are simply out of the question. So, the only way to give my customers just what they deserve is to challenge them. I may not be the strongest female Saiyan—after all, I haven't obtained Elite status and barely qualify as a second-class fighter, but I'm not the dumbest either.
So I've created a way to get what I want.
You see, once a male has had intercourse, he becomes fatigued—slow, both on his feet and in his head. Therefore, this makes it the perfect time to fight, and win against even the strongest of Elites.
Before providing my services, each man is required to agree to fight me to the death, after the services, which they are paying for, have been rendered.
Yes, to some it may sound cowardly and despicable. But those few certainly dare not call themselves Saiya-jin.
The urge to kill is quite complicated to suppress once you've acquired a thirst for blood. Here, you must find a way to quench that thirst before sending yourself into a frenzy. Since being forced to vacate my position in the army, I've tried many different methods of release.
This, I have found to be the most satisfying.
So, what do you guys think? Let me know in your reviews.
Remember, if you have any questions, email me!
Also, the Japanese I used in this chapter...
shunkun idou - instant transmission
onna - woman