I am alive! And out of my Hiatus! I managed to write this up for my lovely fans that are still with me. Please forgive me for how short this is, but at least it's something. I am currently leaving for New York City for spring break and wanted to surprise all of you with a chapter! It's time for shit to hit the fan, and for all of us to see what madness can really do to a person. The whole point of this story and why I decided to write it is all beginning in this chapter on. So enjoy!
Warnings: Squick, madness, depression.
Disclaimer: I do not own DB/Z/GT. All canon characters belong to Akira Toriyama. All OC's belong to me. Do not use without my permission.
Domination Chapter 17: It Starts.
"Thank you for joining us tonight on the 11 o'clock news here on Channel 8. Our top story; New York City comes face to face once again with another strike from the so rightfully named serial killer "The Night Crawler." Just discovered a few hours ago was the decapitated body of what investigators believe to be a 17-18 year old male whom had the classic Night Crawler signature next to the body—the victim's own eyes. The teenaged boy's body has been taken to the NYU forensics lab to be tested and see if anything can be concluded about who this mystery victim is. We have been told that the body appears to be that of a streetwalker or drug user and was found around prime mob territory, like all victims of The Night Crawler. There are many speculations that NYC's newest serial killer is nothing more than a high paid assassin for that of the Santinni Crime Family, since those murdered happened to be working under the Santinni's, though a rigorous investigation continues to lead police nowhere. Could this possibly be just another mob hit against a poor soul trying to escape, or another violent attack from a very disturbed murderer? We here at channel 8 urge the citizens of NYC to stay off of the streets at the very darkest times of the night. It seems that The Night Crawler does not discriminate between male or female, old or young, simply hunting his prey in very distinct areas in which crime is rampant and the rise of the mob controls all. Details of who this poor victim may possibly be are in the very near future. But for now, we pray…"
Goten entered into the grand and extravagant home of the Santinni's, the place lit up all around for the evening. He was holding a burlap sack that was stained dark red on the bottom, a scowl on his handsome face. The Saiyan waltzed thru the massive marble entry as if he were on a mission, smelling out his target and having his eyes locked straight ahead. Soft Italian opera resonated through the mansion that was coming from the study where the large and powerful Don, Giovanni Santinni, was working the night away on his uprise. The schizophrenic Saiyan strode into the kitchen where his gorgeous lover was sitting at the kitchen table with his feet propped on the cherry wood of the table.
Dillon lifted his head from the newspaper he was reading, a glass of wine next to him, smiling at first to see Goten but the grin faded, seeing the angry face his lover held. "Bello… what is it?"
Goten growled and chucked the burlap sack onto the table with a scowl, causing the table to shake a little from how heavy its contents were. "Look in the fucking bag."
Dillon scrunched his nose at Goten's nasty language, rolling his eyes and taking his feet off of the table. "Now Goten there is no need for such filth when you talk to me." He eyed the bag suspiciously.
"Remember that hit you sent me out for? And you had no idea who it was? Well, look in the FUCKING BAG."
The Italian heir blinked and looked back at the bag, standing up and going over to it, taking the knot that tied it shut and undid it. Goten got into a chair and buried his face in his hands, pulling at his hair, agitated and hearing accusing hisses of demons in his mind, the lack of regulated medication in his body not fairing well for him.
The bag opened and the Italian man only needed a quick look before closing it and shutting his eyes tightly, pain on his face, eyebrows furrowed. Dillon opened the bag once again to make sure what he saw was really there and finally pushed the decapitated head of Voorhees away, finding it very hard to face reality at the moment. "Goten…." He started shaking his head in disbelief, surprised that his lover had even went ahead and carried out what was asked even though Voorhees was his friend.
Dillon lifted his stunning green-gold eyes to watch his disturbed lover, seeing the Saiyan mumble and pull at his hair. Suddenly, for reasons he couldn't fully explain, the Italian felt a pang of fear in his heart that was directed at Goten. Not for his lover, but selfishly for himself. If Goten was capable of blindly ignoring his own common sense and murder a dear friend, then what was possibly in store for him? How could Dillon forget the time that Goten had sent him through a wall during a fit of rage? His lover was past any point of steady recovery for his illness, and it was all because of him. Goten would never turn on him…Would he?
"What about Raven…?" Goten asked quietly, still fisting his hair and rocking back and forth slightly in the kitchen chair.
"… what about him…?"
"Raven has been asking about Voorhees for weeks now… you know they'll identify the body eventually….."
"Keep to the code; Omeretá."
It was the final decision on the matter.
As Goten had predicted, the identification of Jason "Voorhees" Kemp had finally surfaced after several interviews that police had with the gay streetwalkers around the area where the body had been found. A small rainbow delta tattoo on the small of the body's back had been what gained the consistency of positive IDs. After the John Doe had been given a name, the media had a hay day on releasing the story about the grisly murder of the homosexual son of the Kemp's, an influential Australian family involved in the politics of NYC. When the family was put in the spotlight about the loss of their dead, drug-using, gay whore of a son, Mr. Kemp -who was a man of God- simply stated, "God gave the faggot what he deserved."
Such news was all that the media could talk about, popping up on magazines, television, newspapers, even billboards around the bustling city. It wasn't long before the wildfire of the story got to the person who loved him most.
The hybrid android was emotionally crippled at such news, knowing that he would never forget that horrid day. He had been coming out of the kitchen from his second serving job with a tray full of piping hot food, going through the bar where televisions were perched all over. The news story flashed on and Raven stopped in his tracks when he heard his missing boyfriend's name being said by an anchor. He watched in horror as images popped up and bold words spread across the screen, registering that the Aussie he was so very much in love with had been murdered by the infamous Night Crawler.
Raven didn't remember anything else except dropping all the food from the tray and screaming at his loss.
Meanwhile on the other side of town, the prominent teacher of Orange Star High learned of the news while with his family. Gohan stared in shock at the newspaper he held in his hands, sitting at the breakfast table with his daughter Pan while his wife cooked. Unable to show the terrible emotions that coursed through him, he simply clenched his fists and hid his face behind the newsprint, trying to compose himself. He had already been accused of cheating by Videl a couple weeks earlier, and he couldn't risk catching her attention on crying over a dead homosexual teenager. Instead, he gulped down his sorrow and spoke, "Oh gosh! That kid on the news who was murdered used to be my student! How dreadful!"
There was still no true evidence against the murderer, or any promising leads, and the police feared that it was going to be another crime that the Night Crawler got away with. Another case gone cold for the state of New York.
The funeral for Voorhees was small but very beautiful, Dillon Santinni paying for the service, the headstone, and the cremation of his body. Only a small group of people had gathered to say their last goodbyes to the Australian teen, mourning over a life lost so early in life. Raven was among the few, trembling as he sobbed to himself on his knees where the tombstone had been placed on a small hill. Beside of him with a hand on his shoulder was Voorhees's nanny Abigail that had raised him ever since he was a small child, dabbing her red-rimmed eyes as she tried to compose herself. Dillon stood with a very emotionless Goten, the Italian man making a cross over his chest and saying a small prayer for the dead teen. Voorhees's parents were not present. Nor was Gohan. Voorhees's ashes were divided up between Raven and Abigail, the two of them promising the lost teen that they would spread them in the right place. The small crowd eventually dispersed down to the three men who knew Voorhees the most, Dillon and Goten watching Raven cling to the tombstone and cry his heart out.
It was Dillon who had to finally pull him away and to his feet, keeping his arm around him and patting his back. "It's going to be ok, Raven… he's in a much better place now."
Weeks passed and much had changed since the funeral of Voorhees, the close-knit group torn apart from the loss. Raven quit his jobs and school, spiraling into a deep depression that seemed endless, starting to understand the peace that his father found with alcohol.
He became angry and distant, locking himself up in his small dirty room to lie in bed all day with a bottle in his hand, turning into the man that he hated for so long. All that was sacred to him anymore was the necklace that he wore around his neck of a small glass vile that held the ashes of his murdered boyfriend. It was during this time that Android 17 finally felt the need to reach out to his hybrid cybernetic son and show him that he cared. By then, it was just too late. Raven fought his father every step of the way when it came to his own care and management of himself, even going so far as to get physical and destructive. The care that Android 17 gave ended quickly, giving up on his son because it was just too time consuming and deciding to get back to his own misery.
On the other side of the city, there was another suffering being, the death of Voorhees affecting him more than usual.
Goten had become extremely paranoid after the funeral of his friend. Of all the people he had wasted for the Santinni Family, this particular person had settled deep within his psychosis and constantly whispered in his ear how he was going to be found out. The demi-Saiyan paced back and forth in the privacy of Dillon's room, having been left alone for just a few hours as the Italian man did some errands. He was left pulling at his hair and murmuring to himself. A faded, sunken trail from where he was going back and forth had appeared in the carpet.
'Just because the body has been cremated doesn't mean anything.'
Voorhees was still going to come back and tell everyone that he killed him. He should have ate the body… THAT'S what he should have done. Right down to the bones. How else did he know that nothing could ever link him back to the murder? Dillon could easily be lying to him. Wasn't he always lying to him? It was what he did on a daily basis with his kind of "work" so why not assume the obvious? And yet, why would Dillon need to lie to him? He kept all of his secrets. He knew things about his lover and his lover's family that no one else did. He prided himself in being a "Fort Knox" of Santinni information; at least that's what he was told he was.
'But don't they tell you anything they want?'
Goten stopped in the middle of the little train he had made, looking up with a fist full of his hair, pulling at his bottom lip in an irritated manner. "He does tell me anything HE wants…" More thoughts of Dillon talking down to him and treating him like he was a child crossed his mind, making him angry. For all he knew, Voorhees was probably alive and ratting him out! No doubt Dillon was in on it too…
'To Hell with him! To Hell with them both!'
His mind raced a million miles a minute, trying to decide what to do next, whom to believe, and what was in the room with him. As he paced back and forth again, he pulled off some skin on his lower lip, causing blood to seep out and trickle down his chin. He winced, but only for a second, licking his lips to get the taste of the intoxicating metallic-tasting liquid. Gods was that good. The Saiyan looked down at his hand and growled, bringing his fingers to his mouth and bit the skin, tearing open his fingertips and lapping at the blood that poured out. A shiver ran down his spine as he became sexually excited from the taste, tearing off another patch of skin from his fingertips. He left the spot he had been going back and forth on right to Dillon's desk, moving things around and snooping through his papers and drawers, not stopping his self-destructive action of mauling his fingers. After all, how could they keep a record of him if they didn't have any prints of him?
His bloody fingers spread all over the desk and papers, wanting to find anything that might incriminate him, knocking things to the ground and tossing things out of the drawers. He became almost manic, tearing Dillon's desk apart and then moving on to his room. He flipped the bed over and ripped open the mattress, blood still splattering out of his torn fingertips, hurrying to his dresser and pulling out all of Dillon's clothes until the drawers were empty. After all of that, he ran into Dillon's walk in closet and ripped it all apart, clothes flying everywhere, shoes getting scattered across the room, boxes getting torn open and tossed around. Goten growled in frustration, balling up his fist and punching a hole in the wall.
'Dillon must be hiding everything from you somewhere else.'
But what was it he was hiding? And why did he feel the need to hide something? Another paranoid thought crossed Goten's mind that frequently made itself known: What if Dillon was out to get him like the rest? The Saiyan sat in the middle of the wrecked room and stared down at his 10 bloody fingers, studying the meat that was throbbing on the ends of his hands, listening to the demons that whispered in his ear. Why did Dillon go out of his way 3 years ago to get to know him?
'Because he wanted to use you for his own benefit.'
"It's not true…" The Saiyan rasped, his hands starting to shake a little. "He loved me… that's why he did it."
'He locked you in a room for 2 weeks and purposely made you go out of your mind.'
"YOU'RE the reason I'm losing my mind!" He barked out, looking around the mess of a room. In his manic state, he started to watch the shadows in the corner take the shape into a man he had once loved for so long, hallucinating the figure of Trunks Brief. He was a wicked looking man whose skin was tinted red, having taunting cerulean eyes and a forked tongue that tasted the air every once in a while, still sporting that lavender hair that Goten wanted to rip out. The demon sat perched on an overturned chair, grinning at the demi-Saiyan with mischief in his cerulean eyes.
'You know you were just fine until he came along. If you ask me, he's made you worse that you already were.'
Goten snarled and grabbed one of Dillon's small glass statues that he kept on his desk, hurling at the demon Trunks, the figure shattering against the wall. Demon Trunks simply cackled at him, fading away into a black smoke only to appear closer to the schizophrenic Saiyan.
'You stupid faggot… You know you can't hurt me…'
The chocolate-eyed teen lunged forward with another snarl, hoping to tackle the demon to the ground and tear him apart. Instead, he went right through the demon and tumbled onto the floor. "Get out of my head!" Goten screamed, grabbing onto his hair and pulled at it. His ears began to ring as the demon figured of the teen that tormented him for years began to laugh at him. Tears filled Goten's chocolate-colored eyes, miserable and feeling like his head was about to explode from a horrid migraine. "P-Please… just leave me alone…!"
'You're never going to get rid of me, Goten… NEVER…'
Finally something inside of the schizophrenic Saiyan crashed against the inside of his skull and made him feel like his world had tilted, a loud piercing sound blowing up in his ears. A pair of crazed eyes opened up and looked ahead at the messy room that he had torn apart, the demonic figure of Trunks standing his ground against him. Goten was no longer trembling, no longer crying, and no longer afraid. Standing up, he clenched his fists and bared his teeth at the demon. "Yes… Yes I can."
Goten stretched out his hand and shot out a ki blast at the hallucination, the demonic figure screeching as the hot ball went through him, it's smoky figure exploding along with the wall of the home. He snorted and walked over to the hole he had made in Dillon's bedroom wall, looking outside at the overcast weather. Today was the day he was going to stop the torture he was under. Today was the day he was going stand up for himself. Today was the day he was going to stop getting bossed around and forced to do what others wanted.
Today was the day he was going to kill Trunks.
TBC.
(Author's Note: "Omeréta" is a code of silence)