Chapter 2: Prisoner
He vaguely remembered the worst kind of pain imaginable being inflicted on him… the echo of Dr. Glock's voice explaining to him all too kindly that he was testing his durability and his overall strength. Needles… he remembered being injected several times with all kinds of different serums… Ones that dwindled his power level to nothing, others that sent it uncontrollably through the roof.
And yet he could do nothing as it happened, for he was chained to the wall, nude, and in so much pain that he wasn't even aware that he had to escape, much less that he could. Glock tended to sit back and have his androids do the work for him, for they listened to his every command, and the creatures he controlled enjoyed smacking around the defenseless half-Saiyan.
When he woke up, he was in a cell, but not the same one he had been in…. and there were people staring at him.
"Hey, look who's up…" A man's voice… Trunks exhaustedly rolled his eyes up to look at the man kneeling before him.
He was large, larger and more muscular than him at least, and his skin was a pale blue. His navy hair was short on the sides, but in the middle had been pulled back in a long ponytail. He had a large jaw and serious black eyes, but he seemed somehow kind. He was dressed simply in a white shirt and brown pants. Around his wrist were two dark blue lines that looked like tattoos… but they were probably markings…
"You okay, kid?" He asked.
Trunks tried to lift his head to get a better look at the man's face, but it hurt far too bad. He did realize however that his wrists were no longer chained.
The man lifted Trunks's body into a sitting position, leaning him against the wall, and held up two clawed fingers. "How many?" He asked.
"…T-two…"
"Well, look at that, he's still coherent. I told you he would be."
Trunks let his head loll to the side, staring in the direction the man was referring to, and he saw three other people.
"What's your name, kid?"
Trunks looked back at the blue man. "Who are you?"
"A prisoner, like you. My name is Kyanite."
"Trunks…" A prisoner… It unsettled him.
He noticed Kyanite had slightly pointed ears. He wondered what alien race he was.
"Welcome to the group, Trunks," Kyanite said. "You'll settle in just fine, just like all of us."
That was when Trunks remembered the others. The fog in his head had cleared now, and when he looked over, he could see clearly.
The first person his eyes were drawn to was a young Namekian boy who was pacing back and forth nervously. He wore traditional clothing from his planet, a dark blue frock over a long-sleeved white top and white pants. There was the typical puffy collar and brown shoes… just like Piccolo… but the nervous nature of the boy was unlike the other Namekian Trunks knew.
"That's Nemora," Kyanite explained, following Trunks's gaze. "He's a jumpy sort and paranoid. We all originally thought it was because of the experiments, but I'm pretty sure now that he's always been that way."
Trunks gave Kyanite a quick glance, and then switched his gaze to a young child dressed all in white. Even his hair was white! Around his forehead was a golden circlet, and little golden belts hung from the top of his knees to the bottom of his knees, holding the leg of his pants up. His eyes were electric blue, his stare wide-eyed like one who was overly energized. He looked almost human, but it was obvious that he wasn't. He was bouncing on his heels and wringing his hands.
"Who's the boy?" Trunks mumbled.
"Cirus," Kyanite explained. "Good luck holding a conversation with him for more than ten seconds. He's a good kid but has an incredibly short attention span. He's smart as a tack and fast as… well, I'll let you be the judge of that."
And then there was the person in the corner. The only woman of the group sat far from everyone else. She had the reddest hair Trunks had ever seen, so red that it looked almost like it was on fire. It fell down her back and around her shoulders were two white beads decorated each tress that fell over her chest. Her skin was pale, and she had large pointed ears. Her eyes were red just like her hair, and Trunks noticed white gems on her forehead, cheeks, and chest. She wore nothing but white bandages around her breast, a short brown skirt with bandages on her legs, and bandages on her feet. The tips of brown boots stuck out from under the wrapping.
She sat silently, staring at the wall, ignoring the movements of the others.
And suddenly, she turned her gaze on him and Kyanite, glaring at them.
"Alusarin is her name," Kyanite explained, looking away from her at the same time Trunks did. "There's really no point in speaking to her, to be honest with you. She usually won't respond."
"I hate to break it to you, Kyanite, but it doesn't really matter to me," Trunks told him. "I'm not going to be in here long."
"HA!" Suddenly, Nemora burst out.
Everyone turned their attention on him.
Nemora turned to Trunks and pointed a finger at him. "What makes you think you can get out of here? We've been here for months. Kyanite's been here for at least a year. There's no way you're gonna get out of here alive. None of us are. Stop fooling yourself!"
"Nemora, no need to get so brash," Kyanite said. "And don't shout or they'll come in here."
"The bad people," Cirus mumbled.
"He just needs to accept it though, Kyanite," Nemora complained. "None of us are getting out of here alive." He turned his black eyes on Trunks and spoke bitterly, "and I bet this arrogant fool will be the first to succumb to them."
Trunks jumped to his feet, ready to take a swing at him, but a sudden nauseating dizzy spell sent him crashing to the floor.
"So graceful," Nemora mumbled sarcastically and went back to pacing.
Kyanite helped Trunks back to the wall, sighing, "Young people…"
Alusarin glanced at the two of them and then back at the wall. "… What did they capture you for?"
The whole room silenced, and everyone looked in her direction.
" Hey… 'Sarin said something," Nemora whispered. "You gonna start talkin' now?"
"Well, we're all in here for something. I was just curious," She responded, void of any sort of emotion. She didn't even turn her gaze on anyone. "So, what race are you?"
"…Saiyan… and Human. Half and half," Trunks replied.
"I thought all of them were dead," Kyanite said with surprise.
"Saiyans have monkey tails," Cirus said. "They're really tough, tough like really tough."
Alusarin looked back at Trunks. "So, they captured you for your power, your all around physical strength."
"…I… guess…"
"You should guess us!" Cirus exclaimed, shoving his index finger towards Trunks. The child seemed far too excited to be a prisoner… and about five seconds later, it was as if he'd forgotten he'd said it, and he'd gone back to bouncing on his heels and chewing on his lower lip.
Kyanite sighed, sitting back against the wall next to Trunks. "Cirus's race is known for their speed. He can travel faster than… well, to be honest, I don't know how fast he in particular is, because I've never been able to see him in action. We're all constantly injected with that serum that locks our abilities, so nobody knows the extent of each other's power…"
Trunks hugged his knees. So his power had been blocked? There had to be a way around it…
"Anyways, Nemora was snatched for his ability to regenerate his limbs-"
"And his glorious lack of ability to avoid capture," Alusarin smirked, the first sign of emotion on her face.
"Because you did SO MUCH BETTER!" Nemora snapped, turning on her.
"At least I put up a fight," She replied simply.
"Alusarin's race is known for their mental abilities," Kyanite explained. "Psychic powers, and the like."
"Thank you for going into SUCH detail," Alusarin moaned sardonically.
Trunks decided that he wasn't very fond of her. She seemed so hateful of… everything…
"Well, what about you?" Trunks asked, turning to the blue man.
"Oh, me? Well, I have the ability to make my skin virtually indestructible."
"Amazing!" Trunks exclaimed, awestruck by the very idea.
"It would be, but who knows if he can actually do it?" Alusarin mumbled skeptically. "Can we stop talking about our would-be powers?"
"You were talking?" Nemora asked flatly.
She made sure the Namekian saw her middle finger quite clearly.
"BOOM!" Cirus, who had been playing by himself, suddenly shouted out, sending a shudder through everyone in the room.
"I have to tell you, Trunks," Kyanite mumbled, placing his hand over his chest. "Your hope on getting out of here is ridiculous…"
"Hope is all that I've ever had."
"I can only hope you're right."
-
The hours were swirling by in a haze as Trunks found himself chained to the damned wall again, staring down at Glock who was sitting, smiling politely in the corner.
"Try -this one-, try -that one-," He would say, using names that Trunks couldn't remember after only seconds.
The pain however, he did recognize. One particularly memorable one was a blue serum that the androids stabbed directly into his chest. His power level immediately shot through the roof, but the agony brought upon by it was the worst he had ever imagined. It was as if every muscle in his body had tensed and cramped, and his blood seemed to be boiling. He heard his own voice begging the man to stop, pleading with him to let him go and leave him alone… His nerves were so electrified that the tears on his face stung his skin… and that man… that bastard of a man…
…He just sat there, smiling…
"Come now, Trunks, don't you have more stamina?" He asked lightly. "You are a Super Saiyan after all."
He hadn't even realized he'd transformed.
And then he said, "The white one."
All of his power slipped away as he was injected. His head fell, lolling to the side, and he stared weakly at his tormenter, wishing only to be released from the reinforced chains that even Goku would have little to no luck breaking out of them on his own. He would have given anything just to be able to lay down on the floor and sleep for a long time.
"…hmm…" Dr. Glock rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and then said, "Give him a good shock."
Down went the switch.
Trunks screamed out as he felt himself being electrocuted. He writhed against the wall he had been confined to, pulling at his restraints with all of his might, but they just wouldn't budge… It was over in a matter of seconds, but it felt like he had been enduring it for hours…
Barely conscious, he looked at the grinning doctor and practically whimpered, "Please… stop this…"
"… Well, all right. I've observed enough of that. Let him down and put him back."
One of the androids hit the button on the far wall, and Trunks crumpled to the floor. Glock knelt down before his trembling form, grabbed a handful of lavender hair and lifted his face up to look at him. "This is the first time you've stayed conscious through the whole experiment, Trunks. Good job." Almost mockingly, he wiped Trunks's chin of the slobber that he couldn't control.
"I… hate you…" It was all he could manage to say.
"Oh, I know you do, my boy…" He said with false sympathy. "I don't really care."
The androids then dragged him off, redressed him in his ragged clothing, and chunked him back into his cell.
"Trunks!"
A distant voice… Gohan?… He couldn't force his eyes open to see.
"Trunks," Kyanite shook him slightly. No response. For the past week he'd been thrown in, he'd given a response when stirred… not this time…
"Is he dead?" Nemora asked.
"He wouldn't let his experiment die. He hasn't even started collecting DNA yet. He's just testing Saiyan powers for his own sick amusement," Alusarin explained from her corner. "He'll be all right. He's strong enough."
Trunks could see his mother sitting at the window, rain pelting on the glass, holding a book. He was only a little boy, eight or nine years old, and he was watching her from the doorway, holding a soda can. "Mother?" He asked. "What are you looking at?"
Bulma turned, smiling. "I was just listening to the rain. It relaxes me."
"The rain always just makes me sad," Trunks told her as he approached, setting his drink on the table. "It looks like the sky is crying. The world is sad."
"Even if it is, that's no reason for you to be sad. Think about all that you have! You have a wonderful home, a great friend in Gohan, a fantastic mother in me -if I do say so myself, and extremely good looks -also from me!" And she laughed, putting her arms around him.
Trunks watched over her shoulder as the rain fell, unable to crack a smile, even though he wanted to. His mother could think of things so positively, but he had seen the carnage… and he just didn't know how he could feel grateful when so many people were so much worse off… He wanted to help those people… like Gohan…
Of course, he'd been too distracted with his thoughts to feel the tears sinking into his shoulder.