Voyeurism at its ugliest

Voyeurism at its ugliest.

You know how the story ended, how it became the torturous hell hole I then resided in. Only you know now that's not really how anything ended. Would it have been a pretty, ironic twist of events? Apparently not enough of one.

But my thoughts are chaotic. I write this now, my final chapter, knowing things I'm about to put into words and trying to sort out how to do so. Should I spend a lot of time, twisting my vocabulary to make it flowery and poetic? Or should I just tell you what happened next?

I've never been terrific with words.

Vegeta had finally stood, soaked in Kakarot's sweat, blood and other, buttoning his pants with frustration. At what? No idea. In the small time apart, perhaps in the time spent amongst only humans, I believe that Vegeta had finally developed a hated conscience, brows furrowed as though he was angry at himself.

"What's your hurry?" Kakarot asked with no emotion, eyes planted only on Vegeta's features that were no doubt getting to him as well.

"I'm not wasting another moment on this deranged planet," The other Saiyan mulled in a pissy voice, grouchily pawing at his zipper. "This place gives me the creeps."

"So you're not staying then?"

Unreadable emotions took over the younger man's face, all indecipherable yet undeniably negative.

"Staying?" Vegeta turned on him, teeth apparently glued together as he ground them. "Staying?"

He spat on the floor again, frustration overwhelming any civility that might at some point have manifest itself.

"Staying where? Staying WHERE Kakarot?" He grabbed the other by the back of the throat, pulling him closer. "It's like this place has taken you totally out of reality! This place isn't even REAL! This is some pathetic clone of our world, twisted and created by some self-centered psycho's temper tantrum!"

He pushed Kakarot away violently.

"Get a hold of yourself for God's sake." He spat. "Of all the things that don't seem right in this place, you're the one that stands out the most!"

"So I make you uncomfortable?" Kakarot stood with the smooth, grace of a snake. "What is it then? Is it my face?" He touched his cheek. "Do I not make his facial expressions well enough for you?"

"What?"

But Kakarot ignored Vegeta entirely, feeding off the look of almost amusing confusion on the other's face.

"Or is it my voice," The taller Saiyan continued, watching as the other started to walk backwards from his approach. "Do I not speak so softly, so infuriatingly pure and PERFECT!"

His anger came out in a wave, catching both me and Vegeta off guard. So smoothly he had hid it, covered by a face of complete nihilism. Now it manifested itself in full swing, like a surprise punch to the face.

A chair was flung across the already destroyed room, battering itself against the wall before falling down amongst the rest of the ruckus.

"Or is it my arms," The infuriated man hissed, spitting between his teeth as he torn the remainder of his shirt from his arms, revealing the damage he'd inflicted upon himself.

A quick intake of breath came from Vegeta, a hitch in his breathing as he beheld the bruise-like trackmarks. His eyes went over the suffering, red veins, the open sores slowly scabbing over pale flesh. It was almost as though he saw the redness, the ashen color around Kakarot's eyes for the first time, backing up even further as the revelation overcame him.

"Who…." He swallowed. "just who are you?"

Ignoring him once more, Kakarot closed their distance, grabbing Vegeta and spinning him towards the bed, both of them facing me!

"I have a secret for you fair Prince," The monster whispered childishly into the other's ear. "Shhh, don't tell."

Revealing a small control device from his shredded pant leg, Kakarot revealed me.

And oh, what a moment it was.

A small beep came from the tiny, black piece of plastic, the younger Saiyan's eyes dancing as he held a quivering finger over the button. Slowly the glass concealing me began to part, fresh air not dank and humid with the scent of blood flowing into my face.

I wondered narcissistically what I looked like, watching as Vegeta in slow motion paled, a sick look coming over his face and a gag-like sound wrenching from his guts into his mouth. I wanted to puke just looking at him wanting to puke.

And inevitably it came, hot and sour, draining all across the floor. Vegeta's whole body heaved, rendering him on all fours as he emptied his stomach.

Was I really that bad I wondered, caught in my own sick sense of humor. Did I resemble Bulma now, half human, half something entirely otherwise? Was I a monster, black and blue and bloody, covered in gangrene, filth and feces?

Gorgeous.

And although I cried out quickly, the sound was undoubtedly covered by the loud crack of a gun going off, not once, but twice. The bullets, spurned on by alien energy, split through Vegeta's unprotected skin, blasting through the back of his knees and demolishing the bones.

I knew this attack all too well, knowing how the force of the pain could render you absolutely unable to even scream. Vegeta's face was a priceless replica of what mine must have been, all color instantly draining from his flesh.

Black eyes stretched to their limits, red lips twitched and breath came in gasps as he tried to cry, tried to scream from the agony of his knees being blown out. Aw, but if only he'd kept his guard up rather than sleep with the enemy. Tsk tsk. His power now was merely that of a strong human, Kakarot's plan executing itself perfectly.

We were both at his mercy now, all hope (and you can imagine what a surprise there was that there was any to be lost at all) was gone now, my stomach dropping with the same speed that Vegeta's head dropped to the floor.

With true movie-style, Kakarot blew the smoke from each of his guns, a wicked grin stretching across his face.

"All the power of the universe," He laughed, spinning them in his hands. "and both you idiots are at the mercy of a human weapon."

He walked up to me languidly, doused in the pleasure of this moment.

"Betcha wondered why I kept these around," He slapped me hard across the face with a barrel. "Betcha never really knew Saiyan power could fall so short."

He turned his back to me, walking over Vegeta's unconscious body carelessly.

"But you see Goku," He chuckled deep in his chest. "Power….. is a gift. Not a privilege, not something you just receive freely. It comes with costs and with weaknesses."

He turned his gorgeous face to me, winking sweetly.

"Guess you both realize that now, Kings of the Universe."

Chapter continued…..