Dark Angel

Chapter 3

Vegeta walked gracefully up a spiraling staircase to the main tower. Plans were to be made. The dark world was filled with turmoil. It had not been so since Vegeta had slaughtered his father, crowning himself as King of the Underworld. At that time all of the shadow creatures had been pleased with their new ruler's lack of conscience and heart of stone. Now their thirst for blood and chaos was causing uproars that even the King could not ignore. Even Hell had its limits.

They also longed for change and as always lusted for power over all things. Not being a ruler to displease his subjects, Vegeta was more then happy to silence their needs.

Finally reaching the conference hall, Vegeta was met by 7 warriors, each bowing low in respect for the King. Each knew well that even the slightest disregard for their master could send them to the pits of Hell to burn for eternity. They also knew that the gleam in the Dark Lord's eyes was not to be ignored… He had a plan.

Taking their places, they waited for what seemed a lifetime until Vegeta's icy voice sounded.

"Brothers. I have devised a plan that will conquer West Heaven, putting it under my control." Vegeta was pleased by the gasps and shocked faces that were his reply to the previous statement. But alas, there was more and he continued.

"Once I have complete control of West Heaven all of East Heaven will be quickly won and conquered." More gasps.

"Um…" standing up was a short, balding man who obviously had a question. Vegeta eyed the man suspiciously. This man was no Hell Warrior, but merely a scientist who had come in handy from time to time with demented torture tools. He had not gained any respect from the other battle hardened warriors in the room and certainly not from Vegeta who believed that worth was measured by strength alone. Even so, Vegeta humored the man by gesturing for him to go on.

"I.. don't think that is possible.. uh.. your most honorable worshipfulness." He stammered, "West Heaven's defenses are far more advanced then our own. If we so much as step past the barrier the High Lord will be notified and an all out war would begin, one that not even you could win." The others in the room sat in awe at the once seemingly cowardice man who had just informed the Demon King of his limitations. Even so, they sensed the anger seeping from Vegeta and quickly braced themselves.

"So. You doubt my abilities, Oolong?" He seethed. Oolong's feeling of self worth quickly deteriorated when he saw that Vegeta's once coal black eyes had a blood red circle around the pupil and in the iris. He choked out an apology too late. A large energy blast soared at him shattering his bones and disintegrating him in less than a second. Vegeta's burning eyes darted from one warrior to the next, searching all six that remained. Blood was spattered on his face and he looked on the verge of completely losing self control.

"Anyone else care to voice an opinion?" he growled in an unearthly tone. As no one answered Vegeta began to calm himself. Once he had control of his actions he again went on.

"The plan is simple. We cross the barrier of West Heaven causing an uproar, that Oolong so graciously predicted. With their defenses distracted, they will surely not notice the two warriors sent on a mission to infiltrate the High King's tower." Agreed looks came and went and although none of them had the slightest guess what that mission was they kept silent, allowing their master to continue at will with the details.

"The mission is simply this." He smirked.

"Infiltrate the castle.. Kidnap the High King's daughter. The angelic Princess Bulma."

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"Ridiculous!" Thundered the High King. His voice boomed throughout the entire Castle of Light. Still, his angelic daughter stood resolute, a stern look placed on her beautiful face.

"I've never heard such a preposterous idea. Demon's having souls. Bah! Ridiculous!" He hollered.

"Just because its unheard of does not mean it's preposterous, Father. Maybe if we just gave them a chance, we coul-"

"Gave them a chance! Bulma, you're dreaming!" He cut in.

"Demons do not have souls. You of all angels should know this. Or have you so conveniently forgotten the death of your own mother at the hands of the former Demon King?" Bulma swallowed hard. Of course she hadn't forgotten. She thought about it every day.

"No.. I have not forgotten father."

"Oh? Well then where was his heart? Hm? His soul?" he asked rudely.

"What about the fact that angels are supposed to show mercy and love to

all creatures!" Bulma shot back.

"Yes well.. we're also supposed to forgive and forget. Have you forgiven

that monster for killing your own mother while you watched?" His voiced cracked in the end and he turned away fiercely determined to stay strong in front of her. She swallowed again.

"That does not mean that all of them are entirely evil, Father. If we merely gave them the opportunity, perhaps even a treaty could be made."

"A treaty.. Made with hell!" He roared.

"And do you have any idea who that treaty would be made with Bulma?"

He glared at her not really expecting an answer.

"With the new Demon King." She stated boldly, pleased to have caught

him off guard at least this time.

"Yes. And do you have any idea what kind of man he is? He's far worse than even his father.. Then even his father's father. He's a blood sucking monster Bulma. He tortures. He kills. He destroys. He lives for those purposes alone. He even killed his own father without a moments thought when he felt it was his time to rule. He's a heartless murderer Bulma. Not a man to make treaties of any kind with." He tried to calm himself, shaking his head while continuing.

"You would understand if you were in my position-"

"But-"

"But you are NOT in my position!" he hollered cutting her off while pointing a finger near her face.

"Therefore you will honor my decisions as your father and your King. Find your place daughter. It is not here!"

Hurt, Bulma stormed out of the room, tears streaming down her cheeks.

The King hated himself for losing his temper with her. She was more upset than she let on and much more fragile than she let anyone know. Things had not been easy with them since he had announced her betroval to the East King's son, Prince Yamcha. He knew that Bulma cared deeply for the future King of East Heaven but despised being forced to do anything.

'So much like her mother.' He sighed to himself. She had believed much the way Bulma did, that creatures of light and dark could one day come to an agreement, ending all wars between them. The King had lost his Queen due to those distorted beliefs and refused to also lose his daughter to them.

Bulma marched angrily to her room. She was disgusted with herself for letting him see her cry. Some "High King of love and kindness" he was! She lay down on her bed pondering all that was said. His mention of her mother had cut into as deeply as it has caught her off guard. She closed her eyes as flashes of an unwanted memory coursed through her head.

The tall handsome warrior draped in black, holding her mother suspended in the air. His black leathery wings batting gracefully in wicked delight. Her mother's face distorted in pain and horror. She could sense her mother's feeling of betrayal as the evil King laughed before drawing his fangs to the queen exposed throat.

The alarm sounded, breaking through the memory. Bulma felt a wave of relief before noting the seriousness of the situation. The demons had not attacked since the death of their Lord and the alarm had startled all the palace's angels into a chaotic frenzy of hysterics. They darted around in confusion, filling the halls with their wails and scurried footsteps. Some found shelter in the dungeons, foolishly believing that was the safest place in case the demons somehow did manage to surpass the barrier and rage a full out attack. Other's that did not share this view point, emptied the castle entirely searching elsewhere for safety.

Bulma stayed in her quarters. She refused to hide like a whimpering child or run away like a thief in the night. She had her dignity. Besides, if the demons did win the battle, there would be no safe place. If she was going to die, she would do so with honor.

Still, bravery could not help her in this situation. The blindly heroic side of her longed to follow her father out to battle. Perhaps not even to engage but to watch. Yet, she knew if she followed he would thrust her away, telling her it was not her place.

She lay down on her soft bed pulling the white sheets over her and staring around at the white room.. How boring. Was heaven so unoriginal that a color assortment was completely unheard of?

"Where exactly is my place?" she stated out loud. She had meant for it to be only to herself but it was obvious that she had startled the two male angels in charge of guarding her room. Slightly blushing, she waved her hand snobbily, motioning them out of the room and ordering them silently to close the door behind them.

Her place certainly wasn't here. With her boring lifestyle. Her forced engagement. Where the hell was the adventure in life? At 17 her life was already planned out for her.

She again recalled her mother, holding her back long ago when she had asked the same question. Tears had flowed freely from her silvery blue eyes as she had felt ashamed by her father's previous scolding. Her mother had smiled sweetly as she gently rocked the young Bulma.

"Someday you'll know my young Princess." She had told her.

"Perhaps you will find your place where you least expect it.. But you'll know… you'll know." Her soft voice had reassured her daughter. She stroked Bulma's glossy silvery blue hair. It had glistened as it flowed through her fingers like wet diamonds, glistening in the sun.

Bulma sighed coming back to reality. She hurt. In her heart she hurt. It was there. Just like it always was. The cold and empty pit of loneliness that never seemed to heal. And deep down was the wretched feeling of pain. As though she had failed her mother.

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"Now don't forget, Draco. Find the Angel, leave the seal and then bring her to me." The Dark Lord's tauntingly sinister voice echoed through his head. Draco was none other than Vegeta's older brother who's claim to first born had been stolen by Vegeta when he had torn his father's heart from his chest, naming himself the rightful King. Vegeta was stronger than Draco, this he knew, but still Draco's wicked heart longed for the throne and he smiled revealing his white fangs, so much like his brothers.

'I have a plan of my own, Brother.' He sneered to himself.

His comrade, Dodoria, looked nervously at him. Dodoria was a perfect follower of his king. His loyalty was unshakable and that was why he had been chosen by the king himself to under go this mission. He could still recall the Dark Lord's look of disgust as he examined the unhealthy physique and hideous form of his most avid follower. It was well known that Vegeta was an admirer of beauty and this was a blessing that had not graced itself upon Dodoria. Still, he was favored for his strength and unstoppable determination. Also, he was no fool. He knew of Draco's insane jealousy of his brother's crown and tried not to think of the dire consequences it could have on the mission. Battle cries sounded in the distance as a signal to the two warriors. It was time.

They crept silently through the Dark Woods, the barrier between Heaven and Hell. Dodoria held in one hand his sword and in the other, he firmly gripped a letter, stamped with the Dark Lord's blood red insignia. Dodoria did not need to break the seal to know what knowledge his King had stored in the letter. It was a ransom note. Taking the High King's daughter hostage, Lord Vegeta would force the King to surrender his throne giving Vegeta control over half of Heaven. With that sort of power over Heaven and Hell, it would not be long until the darkest rein of all would sweep through the universe. Vegeta demanded a response within a month or dire punishment would be in store for her.

Dodoria swallowed hard, knowing all too well the consequences of failure on his part.

Finally passing through the barrier, they saw in front of them a white tower of unimaginable magnitude. It gave off such immense light that it temporarily blinded the eyes of the Hell warriors. Being from the Dark World, they had never beheld such light. They despised it. As they despised all of Heaven's pure hearted creatures.

Climbing like spiders up the castle wall, they quietly signaled to each other that, as of yet, they had remained unspotted. They pulled themselves up, this being an extra exuberating effort for Dodoria, and infiltrated inside. They glanced in utter disbelief at the sick scenery around them. They would not remain unnoticed for long. Their black wings and clothing clashed horribly with the white tiles and walls surrounding them. Their black eyes burned from the light flowing around them but they so silently crept through the halls that Dodoria subconsciously let out a cry of shock as a white arrow flew past his head, missing by mere centimeters alone. Quickly, Draco unsheathed his sword and gutted the culprit, a palace guard not surprisingly dressed in all white. The two warriors seemed pleased as they watched the blood taint the whiteness of the man's robbed and slither like snakes across the white tiled ground.

Before they acknowledged it, more and more palace guards came streaming out of the white hall ways, swords ready for an all out war. Mercilessly, the warriors slaughtered each of them. Their deaths were not entirely in vein as the demons themselves sustained many a bloody wound from the guards. When the last of the Angels lay fallen, Dodoria and Draco surveyed the damage they had caused. Blood spattered the wall like crimson paint and morbid hand prints had been placed on the white walls and smeared when the palace guards had tried in vein to pull their dying bodies from the slippery floor.

"Well.." began Draco thoughtfully.

"This place was in need of some color anyways."

Dodoria laughed at his comrade's sinister sense of humor in spite of the pain they were feeling. He could be so much like his younger brother at times. The misplaced cracks of humor. 'The beautiful appearance.' He thought bitterly to himself.

Silently, he followed Draco who skillfully darted through the corridors as if he knew exactly where they were going. The puzzling sense of direction threw Dodoria completely for a loop. It would have taken him all day to manage his way without Draco. And by that time he'd have been fighting off the High King himself.

To be quit honest, he had no idea what he was looking for. Vegeta had only remarked that they would know her by her unmatchable beauty.

"Do NOT be weakened by her appearance. She is the enemy. Only one that for the time being must be spared. She will look like nothing you have ever encountered before but do not hesitate to abduct her with force if need be. But know this, if you so much as bend a hair on her head, your lives will pay the price. You have been warned." The Dark King's threats were never empty and Draco knew this, as he had devised his plan around it.

Dodoria again regarded Draco, wishing wholeheartedly for the ability to read minds. Looking away, he surveyed his ridiculous surroundings again. He hated them with an absolute passion. All demons hated light. He was no acception. The pure brightness of it all still stung his sensitive eyes. But alas.. His hatred was more then just skin deep. It went right through to his black heart. A deep seeded loathing.

As Dodoria followed Draco into a large room, he heard a gasp awakening a young woman. She excitedly bolted to her feet and gazed confusedly at them. Her eyes cautiously darted from them to the door, her only means of escape. Still, for the time being, she bravely held her ground.

Now Dodoria understood his master's warning. She was gorgeous. Nothing like the whores in Hell, who hung lazily around the palace in black see-through clothing.

She was draped in a shimmering white gown that, whether or not intentional, hugged every curve on her seductive body. He doubted she even knew how inviting she was with her flawlessly curvy figure and smooth slightly tanned skin. Nothing could compare to her attentive face that was decorated with two, almost clear glassy eyes, small nose, and unfathomably full burgundy lips. Hey long, exotic white hair gleamed silver with power blue streaks as it flowed long down her backless dress.

Dodoria wanted her. He almost lunged for her before remembering his master's harsh warning.

Seeing the lust in both of their eyes, Bulma made a run towards the door. Before she could reach it, a man flew in front of it and it was all she could do to avoid plowing right into him. She was cornered by the demons who smiled wickedly at her with sharp canine fangs. Truth be told, she'd never been this close to a demon. In fact, she'd only seen one once and it was enough to be caught in the cold grip of terror. Oh, she'd seen many paintings of the legendary demons of old but it was nothing like this. One was amazingly grotesque and fat. She was shocked the belt holding his sheathed sword, hadn't simply burst from the seams. The other was gorgeous, tall and lean, with a muscular physique she was sure he'd inherited from a high ranking family gene.

Although sickly attracted to him, she knew she had to get away from them. As far away as possible.

The fear in her eyes betrayed her and they laughed scornfully, a sound that made the pit of her stomach flutter and her muscles tense with anger. She hated that sound. Without a thought, she dove through the window, dashing the glass into a thousand glittering pieces that shattered like rain around her. She fell fast, too fast for her wings to catch the air in time, and smashed through a thin ceiling, landing wretchedly on her side in another white room. Although her eyes delayed horribly, not wishing to see what they knew where there, she forced herself to glance upwards. Looking up, she saw the Demons descending quickly towards her, magnificently crawling down the white stone wall. Desperately, she tried to gain her footing and let out an exasperated wail as the pain in her body nearly abolished all will power. The fall had put her in bad condition and being unable to stand, she felt like a waiting duck. Like the foolish fly that had so confidently flown into the spiders nest and had gotten stuck, waiting in terror as the creature moved torturously slow towards them.

In a last desperate attempt, she ignored her body's infuriated demands, and made a dash for the door opposite the room. Hope swelled in her chest as she extended her hand towards the knob only to collide with a rock hard chest before being knocked unconscious.