Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Life Mistake ❯ Black Funeral ( Chapter 7 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

Holy jumping Jesus Christ on a hot-dog stick.

I cannot believe this. I mean... shit. This cannot be happening to me. I thought it only focused on Kakarotto... but now I'm beginning to see the real, dreadful picture.

This isn't all about him, being a life mistake. It's all about everyone.

I think I should shut up now, shouldn't I?

When I walked through the door, my first impulse and accusation was that Kakarotto was waiting for me, playing that haunting melody on the piano.

I was wrong.

It was...

... me.

If you aren't confused yet, you will be shortly.

Playing softly on the piano, with such intensity on his chiseled face, was myself. I was clad in black, entirely in black. Yet it all gleamed gray to me. My fingers whistled against the keys, softly touching them like a feather in the wind. This was crazy. Ludacris. This couldn't happen to me. This couldn't possibly happen at all.

I mean, I know I'm me. I know that I am me standing right here in a white room with a gigantic window with silk curtains and a cherrywood floor. I know that in the middle of this room is a black grand piano. And I finally figured out that the song that was being played was Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven.

But that... that possibly couldn't be me playing that song there. It couldn't be.

I mean, that's gotta be some carbon copy of me or something. Some other form of me probably here to warn me. Yeah... that's gotta be it. He's here to warn me.

He has to be. Or something.

God, this is scary and weird at the same time. I had feeling those two together in one moment.

He stops playing and looks over in my direction. A sudden chill enters the room, yet vanishes as quickly as it came. My god, he even looks at me the same way I look at myself in the mirror.

Maybe I am in a mirror world... the dark side of a mirror, where anything is possible and the right is the wrong and the wrong is the right. Everything is opposite here. Maybe he's different from me. He doesn't curse, I do. He doesn't punch things when he's angry, I do. Hell, he probably likes Kakarotto... and well, I'm starting to worry about him, but that doesn't mean I actually CARE for him. There is a difference there already.

He's smiling. It's Kakarotto's smile.

Somehow, somewhere, someway, I am going to remove that smile from existance.

He sits up, acting like how a prince should. Proper, with pride, and honor. "He is not here."

"You mean Kakarotto?" Don't tell me he isn't here. DO NOT tell me he isn't here... If he isn't, then where the fuck am I, dammit?!

"We are the same, you know," he said again, this time standing up and walking in my direction. What the hell does he mean... "We are not mirror images, but we are in a sense."

My eyebrows burrow in anger. "I hate--"

"--being confused." My god, he finished my sentence for me.

I growled at his smile. I hate that smile. I hate this situation. I hate--

"Kakarotto, yes?"

... I hate my LIFE.

"How are you able to finish my thoughts and sentences, if we are the same but we are not?" Hah! Being around all this crazy shit sure has upped my insanity! Score one for Vegeta!

"Because that's how living contradictions work." He still kept that smile. And I don't have a witty retort to come back to that statement with. Dammit, I hate this.

I hate this, I hate this, I hate this...

I FUCKING HATE THIS!!!

You know what, I am so tired of this, I'm going to vent and get questions from myself.

Yes, that makes no sense, but nothing seems not to anymore! And that doesn't make sense either! I don't care anymore! I WANT ANSWERS!

And I want them now.

"You know what," I started off telling myself, "I am sick and tired of all these mental games. I am sick and tired of being chased by zombies and bunnies and running around in mansions and light and darkness and Kakarotto, Kakarotto, and Kakarotto! I want answers NOW, and I won't leave here until I get them!"

We are face to face now. He's smiling, and I'm fuming.

"I cannot answer that, because we are the same," he said quietly and proudly. "And since we are the same, and you do not know the answers, then I do not know the answers too."

AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!

I think Ozzy Osbourne's Suicide Solution sounds great to listen to currently.

But hell, that isn't going to get me anywhere, isn't it? Sure, it vents anger like hell, but still, no good outcome of it anyway. Besides, if I shoot myself, wouldn't I kill myself in the process? I mean, we are the same as he says...

... My eyes widen. I think Sherlock here just found out the shit.

I smirk defiantly. So, if he wants to play this game, I can play along as well. "But I do know the answers. I know everything, and I know everything and anything and nothing at all, that I will tell myself the answers to this whole shit right now."

HIS eyes widen. Not mine, HIS. Oh GOD that feels great.

Score TWO! for Vegeta! I'm in a fucking roll here!

I think I see he's giving in. Har. I am so fucking smart. "Since you know, and you believe, I will tell."

... well, that was easy enough.

Okay, he's taking a big breath in... alright, stop stalling! SAY IT!

"The last rites of the anger of Saint 9 hangs in the Church where crossroads meet."

I blink. I blink again. I blink slowly one more time.

"Please try and say that again, but more... coherent."

I don't think he's listening to me. He seems fixated almost, like he is driven to tell me more and... and... confuse me! I think Kakarotto is controlling him! TO CONFUSE ME DEARLY!

I hate confusion. It should die.

"Since forever the man who cries listened to the sound of the demon's bell and was doomed by the living dead. Devil's eyes shall watch his nightmare until the return of the afterlife into the unknown drives his fear dead again."

"Shut UP!" I hate this! I hate everything! I want him to shut up!

Quickly, everything begins to float, as if we are in water, or in weightlessness of space. What the FUCK is happening?! What is going on here?! I hate this, I hate this...

I think I've said hate more than enough today. I just...

Why is this happening? Why MUST this happen?!

And why of all days did I have to follow the chain of routine and visit Kakarotto on that damned day weeks back?! Why didn't I just stay home and sleep in?!

Things fade to black all too quickly. I can hear myself unvoluntarily whispering the words that my "other" self said to me a few moments back.

"The last rites of the anger of Saint 9 hangs in the Church where crossroads meet..."

I gotta shut up. I have to... I don't know why, but I have to... "... Since forever the man who cries listened to the sound of the demon's bell and... and..."

I know why now! If I speak the words, I will find Kakarotto! And if I find Kakarotto... something will happen. I think I'm not supposed to find out what happened to him.

That's what my mind is telling me. That's what I'm telling myself. But I wanted to find him, and now I don't want to? I guess... I guess I am... a contradiction.

"... was doomed by the living dead... Devil's eyes shall watch his nightmare..."

I continue speaking the words, like a dirge or a hymn or a long forgotten song of unspoken lore that was not to be uttered until a certain time occured. And I think it just occured right now. The castle I was in that was made of white fades to black.

I hear... bells? No... computers. I hear the sounds of computers beeping, crunching numbers, fingers typing on keyboards. The printers are printing and workers are mumbling and computers are fulfilling their purposes...

"...until the return of the afterlife into the unknown drives his fear dead again..."

I see lights, different colors of them, creating a melody similar and haunting to the one I had played before. Well, it wasn't me that played it... but it was like an aspect of me? I don't know... I'm not so sure of myself...

"... The grave, the insane, the mandrake... that..." Wait, I wasn't taught those words by myself! Where are they coming from? How do I know them? WHY do I know them? Where... how... who...

Why me? Why oh God, why me?

"... that tortures... the deadtime of holy... water..."

And for God's sake, why do I keep speaking those words?! Why can't I stop myself?!

Wires filter all over. Mainframes and monitors decorate this darkness like a laboratory or a computer lab or... or something. Something that gives me chills. I look upwards, finding my eyes gasping in horror, but nothing emits from my mouth. I think that's because I am still talking... My mind doesn't register anything. But my eyes... I'm crying?

Am I crying?

I lift up my mind to my face, and feel the softness of tears trailing down my cheeks... Why am I crying? Am I supposed to cry... ? This makes no sense. Nothing makes sense.

"... shall bring the ghost of change and..."

... no.

Oh my God.

Oh... my God... Budda... Kami... someone... anyone... is anyone listening up there? Can anyone up there watch this and not look without... having... some... emotion or even some sympathy... or even wanting to vomit at the look of it? The look of him?!

Oh... my...

NO!

"... and show... this angel of light..."

Stop talking Vegeta. You HAVE to stop talking. You must. You gotta. You don't want to see this... but then again, you have to. You wanted to see him. You stepped too far into this puzzle. You are gonna figure it out...

... but not like this. My god, not like this.

That isn't him... that can't be him!

He's... not moving. He isn't moving at all.

How can anyone be like that... ? How could anyone have the heart or the courage or the audacity to do that to another living being? He's...

He's been crucified... Kakarotto had been crucified... into...

"... that we are... we are..."

Kakarotto was crucified, and molded, into these machines.

This is insanity.

His blood mixes with the wires, his body melts with the computers and wires and bolts and magnets... his hair is eaten by the flashing lights... his blood drips on the floor, with chips crashing onto the ground...

Blood drips from his eyes, and sparks fall down to the ground, like artificial tears of the computer. Does it weep for Kakarotto in pity? Or is it happy that is had another soul to feed upon?

How... why... is this what he must go through? Is that what the computer ment? With him being a life mistaske, he must be corrected, righted, for this universe, and the next?

Why Kakarotto?! Why him?! Why me?!

What does that mean? What does this mean? What does anything mean?!

He hangs like a saint... like... a... like the man said, like I said, like I recited. He is a saint, and he is going to be... taught? Mended? Fixed? Or is this just still apart of my dream...

"... we are... we... we are..."

If he was dead, I could feel less sympathy for him... the sympathy and sadness would still be there, yes... but...

He's... breathing. He's actually breathing. A bitterness clicks against my tongue. Kakarotto is alive. He is still ALIVE. And he's attached... being attacked... eaten alive... by this machine. I feel so sick right now, I want to vomit... or did he want this? Or not want this?

I don't know...

I want to go home.

But I know it's too late for that.


"... show this angel of light... that we are... TIME."