The Worlds Smartest
This Is The Enforcer Speaking,
Traitor
Sorry this took sooo long to get up, no I haven't died but my life has been a novella/soap opera lately. However, if I still have any fans out there I plan to continue updating this story. Thank You!
Now, On To The Story…
Bulma stared at her reflection in the fogged bathroom mirror. She preferred it this way, preferred not being able to see her reflection clearly. It was hard enough to look at this blurred image. She was black and blue from head to toe. That much she could tell. Other than that Bulma didn't focus on the mirror refusing to look into her eyes, afraid of what she'd see there.
Lying on the counter was her latest defeat. Vegeta was forcing her do wear the uniform of the Saiyan army. He claimed it had something to do with her earth clothing being too flammable to hold up to Ki attacks but Bulma suspected he just wanted to force her to distance herself from her humanity.
She ran her hand across the knot on her jaw she'd received during their "disagreement". In the end Vegeta had looked at her and told her that if she didn't put it on herself he would hold her down, rip her clothes off, and put it on for her. Bulma had no doubts that he would do it and most likely enjoy it so she'd conceded to putting it on herself.
Vegeta had suits specially made for her because she lacked a tail and therefore needed no hole in the ass of her suits.
Picking up the black suit Bulma let the fabric slide through her fingers. It was soft, softer than it looked. Though it stretched easily as Bulma stepped into it and pulled it up over her naked body she had some difficulty. Passing out on the floor in front of the training room for four hours had done little to ease her aches. The black fabric fit like a second skin; covering her from toe to about halfway up her neck leaving only her wrists and hands uncovered. The matching boots and gloves fit just as well. Then came the armor.
Bulma stared at the armor for a long time before she picked it up. It was shinny and black with the Vegeta family crest inlaid in red on the left side of the chest plate. Over her heart. And the princes' explanation for his crest being on her chest? He said it symbolized his ownership of her.
The armor stretched to fit just like everything else. Bulma forced herself to look up and into the now cleared mirror. She looked like one of them. Bulma clenched her fist as a terrible rage roared through her. Lashing out Bulma struck her reflection, demolishing the mirror.
Breathing heavily she stared at her still clenched fist. Not even a scratch on the gloves. Damn.
Storming out of the bathroom Bulma decided to disobey her very first direct order. Vegeta told her that under no circumstance was she to leave his quarters until he returned from some meeting he had to attend.
Without breaking step Bulma strode through the room, to control panel to open the door and then out into the hall. She didn't look back as she marched away.
It had taken her hours to do it but Bulma had finally found the other human prisoners. She had no idea why she wasn't being housed with them but was relieved to discover she was not the lone human survivor.
All of the humans were currently in the training room. Their room was far more run down than the princes. It was also equipped with weaponry, mostly swords, axes, and various other blades. Everyone wore the same loose fitting tan shirts and pants.
Placing her hand on the keypad Bulma opened the doors to the training room and entered.
Everyone froze and turned to Bulma at once. The doors slide shut behind her.
"Hi." Bulma cringed inside. They were all glaring at her with these suspicious looks.
"Who are you?" It was a child who spoke first. The girl was tiny, even in comparison to Bulma, with shinny black hair and brown eyes. She couldn't have been older than ten. The term delicate came to mind.
"My name's Bulma. What's yours?" Bulma looked around the room to better take stock of the humans inside of it. Well mostly humans. There was an odd green colored creature with antennas. All in all there appeared to be around fifty humans in the room.
"Kristi-." A teenager with long blonde hair stepped forward and shoved the girl behind her.
"Don't tell her anything. I think the more important question is what are you?" The blonde was over a head taller than Bulma with icy blue eyes.
"I'm human."
"Liar." The blonde hissed. "You dress like them and you aren't kept with us."
"I'm just as human as you are." Bulma spoke through clinched teeth. The armor she was wearing weighed down on her. It occurred to her what she must look like. "And I don't know why they put me somewhere else."
Murmurs broke out through the crowd.
"You roam freely about the halls and you unlocked the doors." Each word was louder than the last.
Bulma sighed. It was true in a way, so she couldn't exactly argue about it but she was not free, not even close to free.
"Believe me I'm just as much a prisoner here as you are." Looking around her Bulma continued. "I came here in hopes of finding companionship."
"What's your story?" It was the green alien that spoke from his corner.
Bulma felt no harm into telling her story.
"First I watched them murder my Master and our students. I attempted to fight back but I was brushed aside. After they were dead and I realized I couldn't save them I thought of my parents. I ran to my home but I was too late, it was destroyed, my parents were beyond help. That's when the Prince of all Assholes showed up. I ran and I fought but I was no match for him. He took me prisoner."
By the time she was done speaking Bulma was fighting back tears. She would not show weakness in front of the other prisoners. The alien uncrossed his arms and walked through the crowed towards her. Bulma stood her ground but all the hair on the back of her neck stood up as she finally focused on him. His Ki was much greater than hers or any other humans for that matter.
"Why capture you? Why not kill you?" He spoke when he was only a few feet away from Bulma.
"The same could be asked of every one of you." Bulma snapped.
"Most of us have been kept to fight in the games. Others to be used as slaves."
Bulma so didn't want to tell them why she was being kept. Looking around at all the faces staring at her Bulma started to lie, to tell them she didn't know why but couldn't do it.
"I've been made one of their officers. An intelligence officer." The words were bitter in her mouth.
"Traitor!"
Bulma blocked the blondes' punch, grabbed her arm and stepped through her planting her knee in the girls' gut. The blonde hit the ground and Bulma twisted her arm up and back at a very awkward angle.
"What is your name?" Bulma growled.
"I'm not telling you anything. Traitors bitch." The blonde wheezed as she tried to regain her breath.
She screamed as Bulma applied pressure to the already contorted arm.
"Your name."
"Susan." Tears were beginning to slide down Susans' face.
"Now listen closely Susan. I am a traitor. I should have killed myself days ago but I didn't. Call me a coward if you will but I want nothing more than to do everything in my power to ensure that as many of you survive on their planet and in this new life as possible."
Letting go of Susans arm Bulma stepped back. Bulma barely avoided the next attack. Her only excuse was that she hadn't been expecting an armed attack.
The blade sliced through Bulmas arm then across her armor. Blood poured onto the floor. It could have been worse; it could have been her heart. She stumbled back and Susan came at her again. This time Bulma swept the strike to the side, grabbed the hand that held the knife and twisted until she her a loud pop.
Susan screamed. The knife fell to the floor.
"As I said call me what you will but I am swearing here and now to help you. I will return and when I do I will train any and all of those who wish to have the training. It will help you survive."
The green man hadn't moved an inch during the entire fight. "Piccolo." He stated and then walked away.
At least she knew his name now. Turning her back on the mass Bulma placed her hand on the keypad and left the room. Leaving the captives locked in behind her.
It took Bulma much longer than it should have to make her way back to Vegetas quarters. She was beginning to feel sick by the time she all but fell through the doors.
Vegeta was standing in the middle of the room. He was still wearing his blue and white armor and looked incredibly aggravated.
"Where the hell have you been? I specifically told you not to leave."
"Hey, Vegeta could you save the beating for later?" Bulma leaned against the closed doors and slowly slid down to the ground.
It was only then that Vegeta seemed to register that Bulma was bleeding all over the floor.
Vegeta grumbled under his breath as he stalked over to her and crouched down to examine the wound.
"There is only one place where you could have gotten such a wound." Vegeta violently hauled Bulma to her feet and slammed her against the wall. "What were you doing there?"
Bulmas stomach rolled and she briefly contemplated throwing up on Vegeta. "I was just making friends. Watch the security tapes if you'd like."
"Fine." He dropped her back to the ground, stepped over top of her and exited his quarters.
After the doors slid shut Bulma crawled to her feet and made her way to the bathroom where she threw up into the toilet. When she was done Bulma flushed the toilet and lay on the floor. She was cold and sweaty and knew that shock was on its way.
Finally she looked down at her arm and examined the wound. It was a lot deep than she'd thought, almost to the bone.
"Shit." Bulma cursed. She needed medical attention. The world was oddly shiny around the edges.
It felt like an eternity before she heard Vegeta come back into the room. The bathroom doors slid open.
"You look like shit." The prince spoke as he walked into the bathroom and pulled Bulma to her feet.
"Yes well, I've had my arm sliced open. What's your excuse."
"Shut up." Vegeta ordered as he led Bulma to the bed. "Sit here and try to stay conscious." He went to the intercom and called for a doctor.
Half an hour later saw Bulma tucked into her corner pumped full of drugs. The doc had sewn her arm shut after cleaning it out and applying some kind of gel to it to speed up the healing process.
It wasn't long before sleep took her. Bulmas last thought was that she hoped the drugs would ward off the nightmares.
A/N: Uuuum Yeah, writing this chapter was like pulling my own teeth out. Ick. I hope it is ok. R&R please.
