Damaged

Chapter Fourteen: Self-Righteous Homicide

Vegeta's 'flashy' entrance back in Bulma's life, or perhaps hers in his life, subsided in the background as the day passed on, the pair meeting their eyes in the long murky hallways of the manor every now and then when their paths crossed, the male's hands always busy with his next charge.

No later than the next day, there was another newbie at the mansion's staff, a very rare event to the life-long servants at the place. The moist and dangerous-looking confines of the forest looked no more appealing to the average Saiya-jins than a dusty ditch under a busy city street. But then again, judging by her ridiculously straight platinum coloured hair and exotic yet scaring azure eyes, the adolescent girl didn't look even remotely close to an ordinary Saiya-jin female.

As he first caught a sight of the familiar devoid of emotion face, Vegeta's fists had clenched into compact form fit for fighting. Then he realized that he was still 'under cover' and any suspicious acting on his part would be inconvenient for his stay at the manor. So, overcoming his senses that were alerting him of the fast approaching danger, he hadn't even greeted the blonde that went by the name 'Juuhachigou' now. He best preferred to stay out of her way and even though he was sure it wasn't her intent, she stayed out of his as well.

However, from his knowledge was concealed neatly the information that the odd woman that had presented him with his 'shape-shifting' potion had been right when she told him the artificial humans knew the pattern of his life force. Upon first meeting with the altered version of the Saiya-jin King, the girl hadn't shown any facial reaction as to acknowledge her acquaintance with the guy. She barely even looked twice his way. Her scout's work had been done and now all she had to do was wait for the right time to take the bastard down once and for all.

What had eluded her calculations was the midget dark haired human ex-bodyguard to the renowned Queen Bulma, and more precisely the fact she had grown a sore spot for the little guy. She scorned herself every time words in the same spirits as 'cute' and 'adorable' crossed her digital mind when encountering the young man in the hallways or having to deal with his 'orders' as her 'caretaker'. She daren't say a thing to other servants about being ordered around, careful not to break out of her so hard obtained cover, and if she had to be honest to herself – she didn't even want to complain to anyone about it. How could she? For the first time in her evanescent life, she could actually willingly tolerate a humanoid that wasn't her twin brother.

And, hell if she wasn't enjoying it!

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The following week for the two new servants passed in a daze. While Juuhachigou was making Krillin's blood freeze in his veins when she made a sarcastic comment at his address to parry one of his so-called orders he had the duty to give as an instructor for the woman, Vegeta was having a hard time with his subtle serving at the manor.

It wasn't as if the people treated him like the dirt he thought himself to be now that he was degraded from a well-known and respected royal blood to a lowly next-to-nothing-worth of a male-maid. Quite the contrary – he found that he was treated as an equal by them and didn't even care that much about it, also noting that there was less to no hypocrisy at all in their words compared to his life as a King on his own planet. It was true that Saiya-jins weren't noble at heart and probably every single one of his subjects close to him would die if only they could match his strength and rip the crown out his lifeless hands.

What bothered him awfully was that for the smallest amount of time he spent with the woman – meeting her in the library where he went for a short meditation when they gave him some time off from his duties; having small insignificant conversations with her and things of such manner – was making him feel already claustrophobic from the closeness even a spacious place manor as the one he was residing stirred in him.

It was the tiniest signs in her eyes, her smile his way that made a difference from her usually distant and done out of politeness one that she sent everyone, her words of kindness when she thought he was in distress in certain moments and trying to encourage him… Those things she seemed to show only to him in an unfathomable even for herself – he was sure of it, – amity that just came naturally to her when around his transformed self that seemed to bring out that monstrous obsession that he had of her… An obsession so ferocious and possessive he felt as if he was dirtying her innocence that she still had left, after the atrocious way he had used her in the past to amuse himself, with its clawing power raging against his chest every time he saw her smiling at him, not knowing who he really was…

He tried to ignore his senses that were now close to making him writhe in pain from the fact he couldn't even lay a finger on her, because now he was a stranger to her… again… He was so close to her, yet even more far away from her soul than he had been the first time he laid eyes on her scrawny nine-year-old self… Through the time, they had established a very odd bond between them… A link between their two personas so unique he still couldn't quite comprehend it.

But that was irrelevant to him now. All he knew was that he was disgusted with his need for her, for her warmth, her optimism, her radiance. He was repulsed by the thought he was, once again, weak enough to be incapable of protecting her. His every muscle yearned for more power… He yearned the power to reduce those two metal marionettes cinders and set his enigmatically working conscience at ease by returning her the favour of reviving her nation. It was truly puzzling how he felt worse for not being able to protect – something he had never done in his life for anyone else than his self before he met her – than destroying and enslaving much more powerful and potent worlds than her own.

He detested his guts for being so weak as to actually need her presence in his life. He was the King of the strongest race in the Universe! He shouldn't need anybody! And yet… there he stood, facing the matter he had managed to force in the background for five years – his body and subconscious screamed for her to come and pull him out of his misery… of the shame of what he had been reduced to because of his physical incapability… He wanted her to encourage him, soothe his tension, and have her embrace him in a way he wouldn't even begin to return…

But his last brooding thought held a whole different idea in itself for him, a realization and a very important question stirred to life by it – he had never returned any of her affections… Then why was she still unable to resist him, to push him away, if she claimed he had shoved her into Hell and that she hated him for it?

The answer was so clear and blindingly obvious, but to the alien, who held no understanding for the lunacy Bulma so much liked to call 'love', it was a mystery that would perhaps never be unveiled…

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Things have been… well, tolerable, even though hardly, in the mansion for Vegeta's first week as a servant for someone. But once that walking and breathing nightmare of a master came back, it was the prelude to apocalypse…

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The day Toma came back was quite a memorable one. He didn't feel quite at home with all of his servants actually doing what they were paid for, sweeping the floor in the kitchen, washing the dishes after every meal not letting any of that awfully familiar and slightly cozy after all the time reek of old rotten food stick to the plates, and not to mention that the sheets covering his bed actually smelled nice

However, the presence of the two suspicious-looking newcomers didn't serve his temper well. He had demanded what the two were doing there and who let them slip into his manor. His balled fist had collided angrily with the dinning table that night as he and his 'wife' ate their share for the remains of the day. Bulma, being the great diplomat and pacifist she was, had ensured him the two served no treat, as she knew both to be distant, yet not the least bit dangerous. Or that was what she thought…

"I suggest we skip the matter, milord," she offered with every fiber of her nobility. "What's more important is how you spent your week." The burly man sneered at the question, not really aware of the swift change of topic on the woman's account.

"I went to the city, thinking it would be as boring as it ever was, finding out instead some psycho scrawny kid turned half of the place into ashes during his tirade or something, looking for whomever. I swear that punk had luck I wasn't there at that time because he certainly would've got what was coming his way!" Bulma doubted such a thing could happen, knowing it must've been the same 'punk' that had killed Vegeta, and cursed her luck for Toma not being there, so she could get him off her neck once and for all! Whoa, now… those thoughts really made her do a double-take and rethink what was going on with her.

Even though her mental discussion was a heated one, she still managed that charming polite smile of hers, which would get her in more troubles than she could imagine. Her once impassive state faltering was not only a complete a hundred and eighty degrees turn but an immense turn on for the sick Saiya-jin that failed to mention his visit at an old friend's house that had convinced him into 'teaching that woman some respect' upon hearing the sappy story of the 'humble' household.

"Seeing you grin like that is quite a change." He snorted after his remark, finishing the leftovers from his meal. Her appetite, however, remained just the same, her skinny human hands barely touching the delicious foods.

"Yes, well…" She turned her head to face the tablecloth. "I've decided that dwelling over things that cannot be changed is a waste of effort…"

"Aren't you quite a philosopher?" He asked in a rhetoric manner, standing up from his seat. Bulma's sad smile fixed into a confused expression on her smooth facial features while she watched the Saiya-jin making his way towards her, a frightening flame burning in his eyes while she housed a subtle question in her own. "You think you're too good for me, don't you?" Her eyes widened noticeably when he pulled her out of her seat unconcerned if she was done with her dish as he clenched a tight hold around her wrists, almost reaching a breaking point. "We'll see about that one!" He roared, picking her up and swinging her over his broad shoulder unceremoniously like a bag of potatoes, ignoring her as she thrashed against his back.

"Let go of me!" She shrieked in a panicked manner. "Put me down, Toma, please! Where are you taking me?" She asked an obvious question, already aware – and speaking truthfully, afraid – of the answer. Her sapphire eyes darted to the pair of servants in the room that she had barely seen the faces of before. "Help me!" She called to them. If there were three of them, Toma would certainly release her.

However, none of those Saiya-jin slaves moved a muscle for her. She didn't know how many times they had seen their sisters, mothers and girl-friends being taken to the bedroom of the beast of a master of theirs, raped mercilessly by the abuser. They were powerless to stop the act, even if they interfered. The act would only have his fury released upon themselves and that wouldn't help the women's tainted bodies afterwards…

They looked with sightless eyes as the woman disappeared from the room, a look full of despair and dejection etched on her features before her departing…

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Bulma hit her small fists against the wide back of her abductor, various curses leaving her mouth as she demanded to be released only to have her back slam into the surface of the bed, hearing the door kicked shut and locked afterwards with a very horny Saiya-jin climbing his way up the bed, a course straight toward her promising form.

She felt a familiar bile rise in her throat as she felt the brute ravish her body. She tried to enforce the memory of Vegeta's passionate touch in order not to vomit the small amount of food she had actually managed to swallow down.

Having the low-life of a Saiya-jin scum that was probably old enough to be her father made her feel more violated than ever… and there was a slight tint of a different emotion in it. What was it? She could be mistaking, but was that guilt? Why would she feel as if she was betraying anyone, when the only person she had cared for in that aspect was dead? It was true; she had a particular… amity for the new boy, what was his name again… Rain, was it? He had something about himself that attracted her, strangely but surely. And still, her liking for the youth wasn't even close to the powerful emotions she felt for the late King. Having even slight affections for the boy didn't lead to as much doubts over her love for a certain flame-haired man as the act that was going to be committed to her now led for her 'connection' with the newcomer.

She felt awful and slowly began thinking that she deserved this… Her train of thought started reeling into musings that as time progressed, the dark haired adolescent would fast replace her feelings that she always thought as 'strong' ones directed at Vegeta and have her move on with her life – more importantly her love life – faster than she wished. She didn't even know what made her look twice at the youth! He was… just an ordinary Saiya-jin. He had a cool, calm and quiet attitude, always subtle and not wasting his words on anything that didn't deserve them. Besides, he seemed anything but giving a damn about her existence: always avoiding any conversation with her if possible, ignoring her questions, not acknowledging her presence. He was almost… almost acting like Vegeta had… The thought had repulsed her, as she always claimed Vegeta was the one and only. That is, the one and only asshole as obdurate in the entire Universe.

Her thoughts smeared into a blur as she noticed that her clothes were nowhere to be seen on her body, turned into rags and thrown at the floor while the intimidating large man stood above her, a particular organ in his body painfully close to her.

Tears of anguish and hatred for her weakness and powerlessness welled in her eyes as she tried to pound him off herself as he bounced against her so roughly she could scream. Yet she didn't betray a single sound as the brute continued moving against the dry entrance to her body, her failure to comply with any cooperation causing her just more pain. She didn't care. She'd die before she ever gave in to that heartless bastard.

When he became fed up with her resistance, he caught her wrists in a firm hold above her head, bruising the milky white flesh where he held her.

"You're soon going to start enjoying this, little one." He chuckled coldly at the statement as his adrenaline skyrocketed at the feeling of her inner muscles around him.

Bulma squeezed her eyes shut, reminiscing that Vegeta had told her the very same thing during their first time together. And he had been correct.

But this time held no enjoyment for her to take.

That night, after her abuser had used her to release some tension and thrown her away, she cried herself to sleep with the thought she had to be stronger, stronger than ever before, the next morning, knowing that this was just the beginning of a whole new Hell for her. The last of her dignity had been ripped out of her, torn apart in front of her very eyes and stomped over. God knew how much she needed the cold flame-haired Saiya-jin King, whose insults might be cold and obdurate, but the obvious protectiveness and strong awing presence were warm and soothing.

"Oh, Vegeta…" she whimpered, her spinning head dragging her into the anything but comfortable darkness of her restless subconscious mind…

x.x.x.x.x.x

And she had been right with her slight hunch. It was only the beginning of series of brutal enforcements on the host's behalf. She hadn't a clue what made him change his mind over the topic of having intercourse with a motionless mute doll but she could hardly find herself caring. All that mattered was holding up her smiling polite posture and the smile that made her whole face ache with the insincerity applied in it was becoming fast an agonizing nuisance and the need to just cry herself until her eyes went blind to the monstrosities committed to her became overwhelming.

Even though her composure didn't change much to the servants, both ChiChi and Vegeta noticed the difference in her behaviour, the marks on her wrists, the way she sifted uncomfortably or how she flinched when certain parts of her arms were touched. Her swift mind would come up with a slim lie right away, to keep the inhabitants of the house unaware of her 'private life' but what she didn't know that a weary onyx pair of eyes were following her every move now…

Vegeta had tolerated, although not effortlessly, the fact that another probably touched her, saw her naked form night after night, tainted her with his repulsing scent on lingering madness mixed within it. But when it happened in front of his very eyes, it just proved to drive him over the edge that he had been close to with his obsession over the lavender haired Earth Queen and his brooding over what occurred in her private chambers.

Even though she didn't want to turn into one of those panicking whimpering females that crawled into a ball because they weren't strong enough to brace themselves after… that kind of violation, she found soon that her happy-go-lucky attitude wasn't a right option either… Her kind mouth had got her into another painful episode, this time in the middle of the kitchen which was empty at the time, most of the staff redirected into a different part of the manor by the thoughtful Toma. She had the full intention of shrieking her lungs dry, but finally having someone more powerful than her to help her in her time of need.

But having a huge hand that stuffed all the noises you emit surely made it though for her to fulfill her plan…

"Do you think this is funny, bitch?" The angry Saiya-jin's thrusts were rougher than usual. "I will see you break… I'll see you give in, even if it's the last thing I do, you cheap ass whore!" He whispered huskily in her ear, his nose twisted up in an almost disgusted manner.

His sentence only made her determination and self-destructive stubbornness strengthen. Not a sound, not a moan of pain would elude her! Never! She would go through with this as many times as that monster wished, she would never give in!

To serve her luck, Vegeta had picked that exact moment to take a snack before going back to… whatever it was he had to do – he could always ask that harpy ChiChi again later, drive her insane with his failure to care what she was talking and go back to work afterwards. What his eyes witnessed made his fists clench at first, his hair and eye brows waver between their obsidian colouring and the platinum one of his Super Saiya-jin form before he decided that the scum didn't deserve the honour of him blowing his cover – especially with the blond bitch in the mansion – for the likes of him.

At first, the King had been taken aback by the sight, disgusted with it. Then his overwhelming rage at the scene unfolding before his eyes enveloped his entire being, set his every fiber on fire with the wrath and finally resulted in the regal springing into a plunging motion, slamming his shoulder in the side of the villain, sending the monster in the nearest wall. Bulma covered her nudity with the last remains of her clothing that still hung on her form. Vegeta took a brief note of her action over his shoulder, his gritted white canines for his opponent to see as the larger man rose from the hole in the once-white wall.

"You have no idea what you just got yourself into, small fry," the man growled as he got up, but he was greeted by the straightened forward palm in the unmistakable form of a Big Bang prelude of his attacker. The boy's eyes glared with a rage so powerful the tension around the pair could be easily felt.

"Say hello to all the fuckers in Hell for me, low-life." The cool intimidating calm voice that held so much unconcealed malice was blocked out by the deafening blast that followed milliseconds after.

Bulma covered her ears and sunk to the ground and didn't look up even after everything subsided. The wide agape hole in the outer wall was the only proof that there had happened anything. It slowly dawned on her that it was all over: the rapes, the insults, the scare, the physical pain, she broke down in tears that she had been longing to spill for a long period and her composure finally withered away completely…

Vegeta turned around after he collected his hand back to his side, looking at the crying female that lay with her feet sprawled beneath her form on the floor. His eye brows tilted slightly up in pity before he gathered himself together, forcing them back into a furrow as he frowned, crouching down next to her.

He had no idea how the whole manor's crew would react to his bold actions. He didn't care. He couldn't stand a second more of that imbecile hurting her in front of his very eyes too! It had to stop, and why shouldn't he if he could? He saw no coherent reason not to blast the son of a bitch to the same place he had sent that queer Frieza.

However, both Bulma's and all the inhabitants' reactions were anything but what he had imagined…

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

I think you're getting bored with the fic and I on my part am fast losing interest in a dying work. So instead of dragging this out, I'm going to take it to a faster end, but not hasted enough to look rushed. So, yeah, hope you liked the action. I must say that I'm still writing this fic just because those either people that cared enough to stay with me even during last chapter…

If you even care enough to want to see the end of this, please do review. I appreciate it highly. Every comment I get, I truly treasure, especially for this story.