Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or related products.
Story told from someone's point of view, I'll let you decide who.
It's a funny thing.
Life.
You live it. . .but never stop to enjoy it till you're dying. Heh, wouldn't you know it?
Touching his wound like it was a fragile porcelain vase he ran his long, slender fingers over the pit where leather skin and concrete muscle had once lain.
Fickle almost. Life just slips away.
Blood trickled off the tips of his fingers, making a shallow 'plunk' noise in the water far below where he hang. He touched his injury again, this time mustering enough courage to prod at it a little. As he withdrew his hand, Jell-o-like mush came out with it.
He smirked.
Figures.
A sharp pang struck him in the chest, rendering him unable to breath. His throat clenched then released, clenched and released, this process continued several times; each time his lungs pleaded for air that would not come.
So, this is how it ends?
The great warrior dies because of his. . .
Yeah, that's right.
Knew that would get me down sometime.
The awesome sound of lightning struck above him, so near it was deafening, so far it was inaudible. The war-torn sky swirled in fury, gray sky, black, polluted clouds twisting, binding in anger, ready to pour down their acid wrath upon those who dare upset it. Lightning stuck again, this time hitting an abandoned old hover car, whose paint had long since worn, whose tires and battery vanished ages ago. Rats scuttled out, running as fast as their tiny legs would carry them. Inevitably, one of them fell in the giant water-filled crater that -he- reside in, dying instantly upon landing head first among the jagged rocks and curled metal.
You and me both.
You and me both.
The top of City Hall was just visible from beneath the earth. It was burning, entire right side up in resilient orange flame. The sky, threatened by the ever-growing threat, unleashed its hate in a reverberating roar, shattering the ground, pounding the world with tears of frustration. The water of life spilt across his heaven-turned face, rolling down his forehead, over his eyebrows, past the side of his nose to his cheek.
He smiled.
Yes, today is a good day. . .
The fire died out, but in that death, a harmony of embers, each one with their own spirit arose from it, breathing new life in every inch it rose. The rain extinguished most, but the few lived on, on their journey to everlasting life. In the end only one survived, and the people who saw it will forever say it was the brightest one of all.
.to die.
Story told from someone's point of view, I'll let you decide who.
It's a funny thing.
Life.
You live it. . .but never stop to enjoy it till you're dying. Heh, wouldn't you know it?
Touching his wound like it was a fragile porcelain vase he ran his long, slender fingers over the pit where leather skin and concrete muscle had once lain.
Fickle almost. Life just slips away.
Blood trickled off the tips of his fingers, making a shallow 'plunk' noise in the water far below where he hang. He touched his injury again, this time mustering enough courage to prod at it a little. As he withdrew his hand, Jell-o-like mush came out with it.
He smirked.
Figures.
A sharp pang struck him in the chest, rendering him unable to breath. His throat clenched then released, clenched and released, this process continued several times; each time his lungs pleaded for air that would not come.
So, this is how it ends?
The great warrior dies because of his. . .
Yeah, that's right.
Knew that would get me down sometime.
The awesome sound of lightning struck above him, so near it was deafening, so far it was inaudible. The war-torn sky swirled in fury, gray sky, black, polluted clouds twisting, binding in anger, ready to pour down their acid wrath upon those who dare upset it. Lightning stuck again, this time hitting an abandoned old hover car, whose paint had long since worn, whose tires and battery vanished ages ago. Rats scuttled out, running as fast as their tiny legs would carry them. Inevitably, one of them fell in the giant water-filled crater that -he- reside in, dying instantly upon landing head first among the jagged rocks and curled metal.
You and me both.
You and me both.
The top of City Hall was just visible from beneath the earth. It was burning, entire right side up in resilient orange flame. The sky, threatened by the ever-growing threat, unleashed its hate in a reverberating roar, shattering the ground, pounding the world with tears of frustration. The water of life spilt across his heaven-turned face, rolling down his forehead, over his eyebrows, past the side of his nose to his cheek.
He smiled.
Yes, today is a good day. . .
The fire died out, but in that death, a harmony of embers, each one with their own spirit arose from it, breathing new life in every inch it rose. The rain extinguished most, but the few lived on, on their journey to everlasting life. In the end only one survived, and the people who saw it will forever say it was the brightest one of all.
.to die.