Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Card Castle ❯ Chapter 1

Ok! Here's the summary I promised you all! It's an A/U set in those infamous three years; after Bulma's father dies she finds that she can't cope with the memories that Capsule Corp. brings back, so she sells the company and moves out. Her new home -a mansion in the middle of a strange forest- is being haunted by the spirit of a certain Saiyan Prince who is aware that an unimaginable horror is about to descend upon the inhabitants of Earth and continue on throughout the universe, destroying as it goes. Can he get Bulma's attention in time to save her race and his own?

Chapter 1: Closure

Drifting slowly down a dark corridor, the young heiress of Capsule Corp. became lost in her thoughts, her hand running absently along the wall. It was nighttime, almost eleven thirty, and Bulma's restless spirit had forced her to unravel herself from her warm covers and take a stroll through the winding hallways of the main Capsule Corp. building. There was a full moon out and light spilled in from random windows and pooled on the floor in small ponds of silver. It was the only light the dark house provided her with.

Her hand collided abruptly with something on the wall that swung back and forth long after she had withdrawn the offensive fingers. Knowing what she'd see, she glanced at it only for a second before continuing down the hallway. Behind her, the swinging picture of her father's smiling face came slowly to a stop.

Turning a sharp corner, Bulma found herself in the lounge, where her father's large leather recliner sat unoccupied amongst other miscellaneous chairs. This particular piece of furniture had never stood out to her until only a few weeks ago. She still expected to come in and see her father comfortable in his chair, occasionally taking swigs from his steaming cup of coffee, a dull sound echoing in the spacious lounge when he straightened the newspaper he held. She could still see him looking up at her and smiling before asking her how she had slept. She would tell him she'd slept great. Then they would both go to the lab together, where both their geniuses were combined to create things that people thought weren't even possible to create.

But she only saw that on very good days.

In her dreams on the other hand, when she couldn't control what her mind made her see, things didn't work out so good. She would walk in as usual and see her father in his huge leather recliner. He would ask her how she had slept as usual and she would answer, but then, right then, everything would change. He would start clutching at his chest as if something was trying to rip itself out of him. She would turn around and grab the phone to call an ambulance but when she turned back to her father, she would scream in horror as his head rolled slowly off his shoulders and towards her. At her feet, it would stop with his pain filled face turned at her, and blood would soak the carpet-

Then she would wake up, drenched in sweat, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

Her father's death had not been gory, but the human mind tended to exaggerate things that bothered someone to the point that it became ridiculously scary. Bulma rid herself of the painful memories with a slight shake of her head before continuing her walk out onto the grounds. It was a depressing sight; all her mother's flowers had died long ago and left behind only a wilted brown shell that Bulma was to lazy to clean up. Or was it because somewhere in her subconscious, she believed that her mother's soul would someday come back to water them?

"Oh, the poor dears," She heard her mother squeal in the back of her mind. "Well this just won't do, will it?"

Bulma watched vacantly as the entire scene changed right before her eyes. The flowers sat up from their slinkyish positions and the disgusting brown color was replaced by a light pink. The sun poked through the clouds overhead and the birds began to sing from the trees, their voices echoing across the grounds. She watched as her mother emerged from the Capsule house, a cute little sun hat on her head, her dainty hand grasping a watering can. She trotted over to the flowers where she began to water them, while humming an old tune Bulma hadn't heard in years.

"There you go! Oh my, you are thirsty little things, aren't you?"

Suddenly, a little girl in grey overalls came bursting from the house, holding something in her tiny hand. Her large blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight and her thick blue hair flew behind her.

"Mommy!" She called. "Mommy! Look what Daddy helped me make!"

Bulma's mother smiled before abandoning her precious flowers to bend down and retrieve what her daughter so enthusiastically waved in the air. "It's wonderful, dear!"

Her daughter beamed. "It's a calculator! It has a graphing system, parentheses, brackets! And it can even play games!"

Bunny giggled, and started pressing random buttons on the homemade calculator. The present Bulma watched with mild interest as her father also emerged from the Capsule house, his white lab coat swishing around his ankles. He had a pleasant smile on his face as he bent down to pick up his babbling daughter. The family of four stood there for a long time until the scene slowly dissolved away. The flowers drooped, the birds were silenced, and the sunshine disappeared completely.

Slowly, very slowly, tears filled Bulma's eyes, until she began to cry with such intensity that it was akin to one vomiting. It was too much! It was all just too much! When she tried to leave the deaths of her parents in the past, she was only haunted by disturbing flashbacks. She crumpled to the grass in an ungraceful heap and continued to cry, her burning face buried in her hands.

She had to get away.

>>>>>

But to retire at such a young age? Was that even possible? Yes. For the richest woman on earth it was. She could sell Capsule Corp. and live off the funds she received from just that for the rest of her life. C.C. was the largest most expensive company in the world and there would be people killing each other for it, like greedy hyenas for a corpse. Selling it wouldn't be easy by any stretch of the imagination.

Bulma already had her entire adjustment planned out. She would sell C.C., get rid of all her furniture, find a nice little house somewhere quiet, buy all new furniture, and start off fresh. It was the perfect solution. She absolutely refused to be haunted by the memories of her deceased parents.

Two days after she put C.C. on the market, she began to house hunt. Hundreds of real-estate agents littered her doorstep with business cards and newspaper adds every day and Bulma finally got so fed up with it that she hired some police officers to arrest any one who set foot on her property. On the days that she wasn't chasing people out of her yard with a frying pan, she was searching through newspapers and magazines for any houses she might like. Some that she did like, she didn't buy just because the agent who showed her the property was a dick. But every single house she saw just didn't feel right to her, almost like she was waiting for a certain one to just magically come along.

A few weeks later, an electronics company from America, made an offer on C.C. that Bulma couldn't refuse. In a week she had the deal signed and closed and prepared to move into a nice apartment on the east side of town.

>>>>>

A light breeze from an open window snuck in, disturbing the many newspapers Bulma had pinned under her glass of water. Darks clouds threatened the town below with a violent storm, but at this moment all was quiet.

"The calm before the storm," Bulma whispered to Kitty, who purred lightly, arching her back in a mean looking stretch that reminded Bulma of the black cat Halloween cutouts people tapped to there windows, before pawing at the blanket she lay on a few times and plopping down with a soft sigh.

"I hear ya," Bulma said, yawning and continued to leaf through the ads section she had pulled out from a newspaper. A small bolt of lightning illuminated the candle-lit room for a few seconds and Bulma began to count under her breath.

"One… two… three… four…," The loud crack of thunder that was so expected rumbled through the sky. She grinned in anticipation. "Only four minutes away."

She sighed again before sitting back in the white wicker chair she sat in. She loved storms. The pure intensity and the unrestrained rage of a storm always brightened her mood for some reason.

Picking up her glass of water, she searched through the paper with half closed eyes, as she drank. The wind blew, stronger this time, and Bulma had to dive for her papers, spilling the glass in the process. Cursing her own stupidity, she straightened out the papers best she could, wiping water away as she went. She stopped her proceedings when she spotted a rather yellow looking paper sticking out oddly from the rest. She looked over her shoulder when she suddenly had that strange feeling, the one where the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, but saw no one. Turning back to the paper, she grabbed it out from under the stack and sat back down, ignoring the water that spilled slowly off the side of the table and onto the floor.

In the black and white picture, stood a mansion, its demeanor dark and mysterious thanks to the ancient trees that cast their shadows over it like overprotective parents. Its windows where a unique triangular shape as were its tower roofs. Its surroundings were mostly woods and it had that private closed in feel that Bulma craved so much. But that wasn't what she was staring at it for; she was staring because she couldn't look away. The house was just so intriguing…

Kitty got up from her bed and sauntered over to rub herself against Bulma's legs, her purring loud and fast. When she received no response, she clawed impatiently at her owner, her retractable little needles digging into her flesh. Bulma winced before smiling almost thankfully at Kitty, and bending down to scoop her up. Setting the paper down on the table, she sat heavily back down in her chair, staring at it thoughtfully as she stroked Kitty's head. The cat purred softly, her half closed green eyes staring at some random floating object that only she could see. Bulma glanced out at the quickly darkening sky, before glancing back at the paper seriously considering it. Suddenly she dropped Kitty and grabbed the paper.

Kitty hissed at the unexpected drop, and strode back to her bed where she lay, licking her paws, occasionally looking up to scowl at Bulma.

The blue haired woman sat for a few minutes, her eyes transfixed on the paper before nodding to herself and grabbing her phone that she kept by that chair at all times. Skimming down the information, she found a phone number and began to dial.

She was defiantly interested.

>>>>>

So what do all you awesome reviewers out there think? Suck ass or kick ass? Suggestions? Criticism? All is welcomed! More will come very soon! I'm very excited about this fic!