He woke deep within the ground, and the first stir he felt was hunger. An overwhelming hunger for blood that demanded satisfaction. But as he hunted the dark streets of Japan for pray, a voice called to him, comforting, calming, and giving him the strength to control his craving. This is a Trunks and Pan fan fiction. Base on the story Dark Legends. Hey thank you all for your reviews but enough of me on to the story…

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Craving

Trunks had spent two centuries hunting his beloved brother, but he never fully recovered from the shock of Vegeta's turning. Finally after countless battles in which neither was victorious, he made the decision to lock his brother in the earth for all eternity. Trunks had chased Vegeta throughout the world; their final disagreement took place on Japan a city rampant with vampires and wickedness. After the terrible battle in the cemetery, where both of them suffered horrendous wounds and loss of blood, he waited until Vegeta was lying unintentionally in the earth, and then he bound Vegeta to him, forcing him to remain there. The struggle was not over, yet it was the solution Trunks could think of. He was tired and alone without comfort of any kind. He wanted rest, yet he could not seek the dawn until Vegeta was fully destroyed. It was a terrible fate he had chosen, dead, yet not dead, buried for all time, but Trunks could think of no other way, nothing should have disturbed them, yet something had. Something had moved the earth above their heads.

Trunks had no idea how much time had passed while he had rested in the earth, yet his body was starved for blood. He knew his skin was gray and drawn tight over his skeleton like that of an old man. At once, as he burst into the air, he clothed himself, adding a long hooded cape to hide his appearance while he hunted through the city. Just that small action drained the energy from his wizened body. He needed blood desperately. He was so weak he nearly fell from the sky.

As he settled to the ground, he stared in astonishment at the huge contraptions that had disturbed the sleep of the centuries. Those contraptions, so alien to him, had awakened a demon so dangers and deadly the world could never comprehend its power. Those contraptions had unleashed that demon of death upon the present world. Trunks took a deep breath, inhaled the night. At once he was assaulted by so many smells, his starving body could barely assimilate them all.

Hunger ate at his very being not showing any mercy, obstinately, and he realized with a sinking heart. He was so close to turning he had precious little control. When he was forced to feed, the demon in his would rise. Nevertheless he had no real choice in the matter. He had to have sustenance to hunt. If he did not hunt Vegeta, protect humans and Saiyans all, who would?

Trunks drew the thick cloak closer around his body as he staggered through the graveyard. He could see where the machines had disturbed the earth. Apparently the gravesites wee being dug up. He found the spot, just outside the sanctified ground, where the soul had boiled up out of the earth as Vegeta raised. A moment he sank sown on his knees to bury both hands in the dirt. Vegeta. His brother. He bowed his head in sorrow. How often had they shared knowledge? Shared battles? Blood? Nearly three thousand years they had been together, fought for their people, hunted the undead and killed them. Now how was alone. Vegeta was the legendary warrior, the greatest of their people, yet he had fallen as so many had before him. Trunks would have bet his life that his brother would never have succumbed to the dark whisper of power.

Trunks stood up slowly and began to walk toward the street. The ling years that had gone by had changed the world. Everything was so different. He understood none of it. He was so confused of the sites before him. He touched their minds briefly. They thought him an "old homeless man," perhaps a drunk or even insane. No one looked his way; no one wanted to see him. He was shriveled, his skin gray. He drew the long cloak even closer, hiding his withered body within.

Hunger assailed his senses so that his fangs exploded in his mouth and dripped with anticipation of a feast. He needed nourishment now. Stumbling, almost blind, he continued along the streets. Lights were blazing from above. It was not the city he remembered or with which he was comfortable.

He should have caught the nearest prey and fed voraciously to bring him instant strength, but the read of being unable to stop himself was piercing through his mind. He must not allow the beast to control him. He had sworn duty to his people, to the human race, but most importantly his beloved brother. Vegeta had been his hero, the one he placed above all others. They taken a vow together and he would honor it as Vegeta would have done for him. No other hunter would be allowed to destroy his brother; it was his task alone and he alone.

The smell of blood was overpowering. It beat at him with the same intensity as his hunger. The sound of it rushing through veins, ebbing and flowing, filled with life, taunting him. In his present state of weakness hi would be unable to control his prey, to keep his victims calm. That would only add to the power of the demon rising.

"Sir, may I help you in some way? Are you ill?" It was the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. She spoke in flawless Japanese. To his amazement, her words brought him comfort, as if her voice alone could soothe him.

Trunks shuddered. The last thing he wanted was to feast on an innocent woman. Without looking at her, he shook his head and continued walking. He was so weak he stumbled against her. She was tall and slender and surprisingly strong. Immediately she wrapped her arm around him, ignoring his musty, dirty odor. The moment she touched him he felt a sense of peace seeping into his tortured soul. The insistent hunger he felt lessened and ling as she was touching him, he felt an appearance of control.

He woke deep within the ground, and the first stir he felt was hunger. An overwhelming hunger

for blood that demanded satisfaction. But as he hunted the dark streets of Japan for pray, a

voice called to him, comforting, calming, and giving him the strength to control his craving.

This is a Trunks and Pan fan fiction. Base on the story Dark Legends.

Craving

Chapter Three...

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Deliberately he kept his face averted from her, knowing his eyes would show the red haze of the

demon rising in him. Her close proximity should have triggered his violent instincts instead

she soothed him. She was definitely the last person he wanted to use as pray. He sensed her

goodness, her resolve to help him, her complete selflessness. Her compassion and goodness was

the only reason he'd had not attacked and sunk his fangs deep within her veins when every

shrunken cell and fiber of his being demanded he do so for his own self-preservation.

She was urging him toward a sleek contraption at the edge of the sidewalk.

"Are you injured, or just hungry?" she asked. "There's a homeless shelter right up the street.

They can give you a place to stay for the night and a hot meal. Let me take you there. This is

my car. Please get in and let me help you."

Her voice seemed to whisper over him, a seduction of the senses. He truly feared for her life,

for his own soul. But he was far too weak to resist. He allowed her to seat him in the car, but

he huddled as far from her as he could. Now that there was no longer any physical contact, he

could hear the blood rushing in her veins, calling o him. Whispering like the most tempting

seductress. Hunger roared through him so that he was shaking violently with the need to sink

his teeth deep into her exposed neck. He could hear her heart, the steady beat that went on and

on, driving him crazy. He could almost taste the blood, knowing it would pour into his mouth,

down his throat as he gorged himself.

"By the way my name is Pan Son Goku," she told him gently. "Please tell me if you're hurt or in

need of medical attention. Don't worry about the cost. I have friends at the hospital and

they'll help you." She didn't add what he gleaned from her thoughts: she often brought in

indigents and paid the bill herself.

Trunks remained silent. It was all he could do to shield his own thoughts, an automatic

protection Vegeta had drilled into him from the time they were mere fled fledglings. The lure

of blood was overpowering. It was only the goodness glowing from her that prevented him from

leaping upon her and feasting as his shriveled cells cried out for him to do.

Pan glanced at the old man worriedly. She hadn't seen his face clearly, but he was gray with

hunger and shaking with fatigue. He looked starved. When she touched him she sensed a terrible

conflict within him and his body raged with hunger. It took control not to race through the

streets to the shelter. She wanted desperately to get him aid. Her small white teeth worried

at her bottom lip. She felt nervousness; an emotion Pan could not remember feeling. She needed

to give the man aid and comfort. The urge was so strong; it was almost a forceful urge.

"Don't worry, I can take care of things for you. Just sit back and relax." Pan drove with her

usual abandon through of the streets. Most policemen knew her car and would do no more than grin

at her when she broke all the laws. She was a healer. An exceptional healer. It was her gift

to the world. It had made friends for her everywhere. Those that didn't care about favors or

healing cared about the fact that she had a great deal of money and a great many political

connections.

She pulled up to the shelter and stopped the car almost at the door. She didn't wasn't the old

man to have to walk far. He seemed ready to topple over at any moment. The hood of his unusual

cape concealed his hair from her, but she gad the impression it was long and thick and

old-fashioned. Rushing around the front of the car, she reached inside to help him out.

Trunks didn't want her to touch him again, but he couldn't help himself. There was something

very peaceful in her touch, almost healing. It helped him to hold the terrible craving at bay

for a little while longer. The contraption he was riding in, the speed at which it rushed

through the streets, made him sick and dizzy. He needed to adjust himself to the world he was

in. Find out the year. Study the new technology. Most of all he needed to find the strength

to feed without allowing the demon deep within him to reign supreme. He could feel it in him,

the red haze, and the animal instincts rising to overcome the thin veneer of civility.

"Pan! Another one? We're so full this evening."

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That's It for now hey I need a bad guys name for this story that is in DBZ and that likes pan.

RisenIndeed

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