Title: Erratum in the Spirit - Prologue
Author: Falafal
Pairing: N/A at this time
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Supernatural - Dark theme, Angst
Notes: DBGT has not occurred, due to the fact I know nothing about it.
Revised Notes: Well after having let all my fanfiction sit in the depths of cyberspace untouched and gathering spam dust, My muses have finally kicked my butt into gear and here I am revising. Not too much revised, a scene or two will be added or a scene added too but nothing huge, spelling mistake, grammar, Crappy descriptions and sentences, dates, hair colours etc etc. Just the basic stuff…Enjoy!
"Speech" 'thoughts' …Remembrance…
Visions of Inspiration
'Where once was light,
Now darkness falls,
Where once was love,
Love is no more' Gollum's Song - Fran Walsh
Shadows of darkness. Whispers of the dying. His heart drummed rapidly, mind twisted in fear. A sudden brush against his shoulder caused him to jump.
"Afraid?"
The raspy voice echoed through the darkness, he couldn't find its location. Its Ki seemed to radiate endlessly around him. Laughing at him, daring him to take a chance. As his heart thrummed against his ribs, his eyes flickered about him in hopes of glimpsing his opponent and the growing dread finally formed itself physically into salty drops on his forehead.
"Don't cower. It will all be over soon"
Out of the darkness an outline slowly formed. There was something alluring, knowledge that whom ever approached would never harm him but why did he think that. His mind hesitated in the belief, reverting to his familial state of trusting no one until he could see their eyes, and yet the belief stood firm and shattered his mistrust.
"They'd never harm me" he muttered without thought.
"Do you truly believe that?" That same voice scratched and echoed in reply
So close. Behind him, a second form. A soft hand trailed across his check, pulling back his hair and his body would not respond, didn't want to respond. He shivered as breath touched his neck and his eyes widened at its chill temperature.
"W-who are you.?" eyes searching "Where am I?"
The only response he received was the tight grip of a delicate hand on his shoulder, the piercing of his flesh under sharpened nails. The form before him slipped into the faint light, moonlight. But there was no moon in the sky, no stars. Hidden under the sanctuary of a black hood, the being's face was unseen, all but a glint of white. It stopped mere inches from his face, the sound of its breathing sharp,
"I have a gift for you"
That was it. The voice rang through his mind, it had an unnatural hypnotic effect. His body would not move, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't move from the pressing form behind him. Its body cool as the same soft hand gently pushed his head to the side. Its movements were sudden, unlike the previous manner. He tensed as a sharp pain struck his neck, life draining yet his strength gained.
When he woke, it was from dread. His torso sprang upright, heaving, sweltering. It had come once more, that mysterious dream, which should be called a nightmare. Yet in his father's mind, Saiya-jins never had nightmares, never allowed fear to overcome. And so when he spoke of these reoccurring dreams to the Saiya-jin Prince, Trunks received a hard glare of disapproval as well as a lengthened training session. Training solved everything, or so believed. He couldn't help but scoff at his first waking thought, the narrow minded convictions of his father. Pushing back the jumbled blankets, the 19-year-old let his legs slip over the edge of the bed. With the back of his hand he wiped the forming sweat, uselessly. He didn't understand these visions. They had appeared one night, always dark, always waking in dread. Yet beneath it all a feeling of loyalty and enticement had been formed. He could feel a mighty power luring him, calling him.
"What do you want?"
His voice echoed loudly through the silence, catching him by surprise. The bed then seemed swiftly uncomfortable, the window alluring. He slid up the glass panes and let the night air dance with his lilac locks. Leaning out, he watched the stars smile down upon West City, shining upon the Capsule Corp clock reading '2:05 am', he had been waking earlier each time.
…"I have a gift for you"…
Remembering his dream he became confused, what did it mean? Dende always said dreams had a hidden meaning. He just couldn't find the reason for these dark visions. These vision which held neither light nor love.