Chapter 9

Screams in the Night

The days would pass some more aggrivatingly than most during the time and the Saiyan grew more and more curious of his surroundings. However since his arrival, he spoke little to no words at all. Wounds were still fresh in his heart, the hurt still there, but he didn't speak of them, he wasn't allowed to show weakness in front of his Owners. No, that could be dangerous, to show weakness was a tool they could use to further break him. He would not allow such a thing, but the pain deep within turned to that of a deep rage.

Vegeta would have by this point gotten to know a few people Xanatos Darkorb and Kaoru Ele being two of them, but they were both interested in other people. To them, he was a slave, something to be overlooked and thought of as just another worker in this home. The days would pass by with nearly unbearable silence, and the warrior slave could only sit and stare out the window, staring up at the heavens above. Were they happy up there now? Did they laugh, play, and explore together as a family should? Did they miss him? They were thoughts, questions that he never voiced, but his gaze seemed to search that one spot, but still, it was just empty space where his eyes landed.

One night, he stirred from a light sleep when he heard a blood curtling scream come from upstairs and immediately he was on his feet. Before he could cross half the room, his Mistress was running down the stairs. He knew protocol, but care and concern took over, as he tried to reach out to comfort his Mistress. She would wrench herself from his gentle touch, as the warrior looked toward her, his entire form trying to show some degree of consideration. After all she was his Mistress, it was either try to make life bearable or again face a life of solitude where he would be a ghost in the very castle he served, invisible to everyone around.

When she finally sat down, he quietly approached, his head lowered down as he knelt. "Mistress, may I ask what happened? Why do you come down the stairs, screaming and frightened like a child?" In the end, Vegeta felt the ebbing instincts of being a father kick in again, trying to get to the matter of this so that he could investigate further in to the matter.

Lady Shahalla looked at the slave at her feet and in the gentle voice, she reached down and stroked the Saiyan's cheek as tears slid down her face. "Oh my dear pet." She would come down to her knees wrapping her arms around the Saiyan's thick neck and he felt tears soaking into the blue shirt he wore. Then finally after a few minutes passed, she placed the hand on the back of his neck, to lower his head further as she then clenched his black hair in her hands. "My pet, I don't know how to say it. I can't, but I know I have to. I woke up to find myself being raped! It was horrible, just simply awful."

Vegeta quietly thought for a moment as his Mistress sobbed a bit longer, shattered from the ordeal. Her hands, he noticed, trembled fiercely as she tried to release her emotions. Soon her right arm would be wound around his throat as the left would come over his back and around the right side of his ribs. He was to serve as her pet and it was at this point that he would be used as such. As far as the others knew, he was little more than a pet dog that would be used for her grieving, and her comfort that would ease her fear and pain.

After that night, he would launch into a quiet investigation and soon he was gaining more and more evidence, a rose, if he could only find the rose. Then as he came to know the perpetrator, he grew more and more diligent in trying to find proof against him, he found it planted more against him. He feared the result but he had to present it to his Mistress. A grip was given, and she chose his, then when he found ripped cloth, again it pointed to the Saiyan, the Saiyan that had not done this crime. The vital evidence was that rose and as he picked it up from his bedding, he shook his head. "How can this be? I did not, could not have done such a horrible thing. I could not have committed an act that would have gone against my Code of Honor."

However, Diego was there with Shahalla and Diego narrowed his eyes. "You're a slave, trying to take advantange of your Mistress, aren't you? Then trying to hide it and you managed only to accuse yourself."

Shahalla grew angry, seeing the slave before her. To her, he was now becoming a wretched sight and she called the guards. Vegeta fought and scrambled, trying to get away when his collar shocked him, stunning him. As they picked him up, the slave would then look to her. "Search your heart Mistress, you know the truth already. I'm innocent, please, don't punish me for something I did not do."

She though would order him to be taken to the dungeons to be tortured until he confessed. Taken down to the dungeons he was set on the steel, blood covered table, and though he fought, he was soon cuffed down, as he struggled in his bindings. A spell would be cast over him to keep him alive through this as Diego now entered and picked up bamboo splinters. Vegeta knew at this point he had to be strong, a verbal scream would only be classified as guilt. These splinters would be slowly inserted under the fingernails and then the nails themselves ripped off. The hideous and excruciating torment would continue for three days, before the Mistress came down to see him again.

Battered, exhausted, and bloody, she circled around the nearly disected slave as if he were nothing more than cattle to be slaughtered. Her cold eyes bore into the captive still held on the table at their mercy. "Tell me, did the slave confess yet?"

Diego shook his head disgustedly. "No Lady Shahalla, he's only given growls, groans, and silent screams through the torture. I've even ripped his back off, skinned his tail and more and he still does not confess."

Shahalla only narrowed her eyes and stripped the Saiyan as she grabbed a hot poker and a silver dong about nine inches long, three inches wide, with two inch spikes. She would shove this thing up inside of him as a new pain ripped through the Saiyan's body. Then as his insides were torn up, she would twist, he again gave a silent scream. Then pulling that out, she would push the poker inside. "How does that feel slave! You violated me, you lied to me, you're nothing but property, and now you will suffer. You beast will spend the rest of your life in these cells at the mercy of Diego's pleasures and practices."

Vegeta wanted to scream out, but what he was hearing was wrong, he had been asleep when the attack occured. Now he was to suffer the punishment of a crime he had not committed. It wasn't long before he was led to a small cell and chained to the wall where he would take to the corner, the only comfort he would have would be the cold stone walls of his prison. He had served his Mistress loyally as her pet, her slave, as the silent one that never complained of her whim. However the Saiyan would find himself betrayed as he shivered and held back the rage, the hate, the tears.

After three days, he would listlessly remain in his corner, numbed to the world around him. He barely noticed the footsteps coming down the stairs, then the other set. With dulled senses and his head hung, he waited, for what he didn't know. All he knew was he waited, for life, for death, for a guiding light to lift his spirits and help him carry on. It wasn't until the door was unlocked to his cell that he gazed over with just his eyes. It was Shahalla and he cringed for the first time under any hand, silently as his body remembered, his memory flashed back to the tortures. She came in again weeping, but as she tried to apologize, he felt a silent anger building up within. How dare she accuse him of such a crime, have him tortured so horrifically, lock him away in a dungeon cell, starved, beaten, and then come crying for his forgiveness.

The Saiyan offered nothing, no look up, his smile having faded from his features since the deaths of his kids. Others would have been glad to get out of such a place, but he was cautious. The hand that fed him had now also hurt him deeply with betrayal. A leash was clipped onto his collar and he struggled, trying to stand, but would only collapse. Then gently, carefully, he would be taken back up to the bed that still waited. It was there, he would curl up in the pet bed and then just sleep. Never again would he allow his heart to trust the one that had just prior to this, shown him kindness. If a kind hand was to hurt this badly, he would rather it be in a predictable place so he could stand a better chance of fighting it. His heart hardened, his gaze grew cold, and whenever touch would come, he would pull away. However, his rage was growing deeper, into unfathomed depths. If it was to ever be released, anything and everything in his path could ultimately be destroyed.

Now the question remained. How was he going to overcome this, and gain more strength? It was the only thing that mattered now, strength. His dignity, his pride, honor, and what little care he had dared to show was now shattered and thrown aside. He would have to fight his way back to it and he would fight. The rise of the Saiyan Prince was coming again. Yes he could feel it coursing through his blood, the Saiyan Prince would rise up again from the ashes to reclaim what he had lost. It would only be a matter of time.