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Monsterb620 · 漫画同人
分數不夠
636 Chs

Acid Trip by KingdomDone (Dragon Ball Z)

Summary: I wake up as some kinda weirdo alien toddler with a psychopathic parent who tries to make me fight to the death immediately after I'm born and then tries to kill me when I don't listen. Also, what's with those dudes with the bulging muscles and crazy hair styles? And since when could people fly around and shoot laser beams out of their hands? Nothing makes any sense. (SI Cell Jr.)

Link: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/14085800/1/Acid-Trip

Word count:40k

Chapters:6

Chapter 1: What the hell?

A/N: The OC has never watched Dragonball Z and has no knowledge about anything within the universe.

I try to recall memories of a life that come and go, ebb and flow, before I can fully grasp them each and every time. Its frustrating. It's like a sneeze that goes away half a moment before you release it.

My body, my mind, I feel my very existence is disconnected before it is shaken and churned repeatedly ad-infinitum. My senses fade and reappear in intervals, and I can't quite get a grasp of what's happening to me.

As time passes, the thoughts in my head begin to collect themselves and slowly, I'm able to piece more and more bits and fragments regarding the details of my life. The longer I persist in this strange void, the more I'm able to remember. Even though time is endless in this space it isn't too discomforting. It's a peaceful dreamlike atmosphere.

Finally, after what feels like centuries of constant drifting, something changes.

I can feel myself rapidly attaining a physical structure, a body being molded into what it is meant to be.

But there's something else included. Information and what seems akin to a set of instructions attempts to worm its way through my brain. Its foreign and triggers numerous alarms blaring in warning within my psyche. I can detect the hidden subservient demands laced within as well as violent psychotic personality quirks.

I had participated in sports like MMA and boxing in my previous life and sparring with my friends was quite fun, but whatever this was just felt wrong. Subliminal suggestions such as maiming and murdering those who were weaker than I and to find pleasure committing those acts. They were tendencies that belonged to a serial killer and never someone like me.

I don't know how I do it, but I manage to put a filter in an attempt to block any information that may prove to be harmful. While the harmless data is allowed entry, I do my best, pouring in every ounce of effort available to me to deny anything the strikes me as odd. However, whatever it is that's trying to influence me doesn't give up easily. It's assault continues and it's relentless, but the barriers of my mind hold strong although I can't be sure if anything managed to get through. Eventually it subsides completely and once it does, I know I am ready to be born.

My body has fully formed, and I'm sent off on my journey on some kind of water slide. Less than a second later, before I can even open my eyes, I'm graced with the soft touch of the wind before immediately physically crashing onto rough earth, face first, landing without any grace at all.

I already know that I'm not a normal baby and didn't register any pain to confirm that theory, but geez, shouldn't a doctor have caught me? Or at least my mother could have given birth on something soft. I don't understand how I'm not injured but maybe I'm not human?

And then I hear it. Giggling. Creepy childlike giggling that prickles the brain in all the wrong sort of ways in just the right places and only has a place belonging in some sort of horror movie.

My eyelids shoot open and I immediately scan my surroundings in a desperate attempt to identify the source. As my vision takes in whatever the hell is in front of me, my brain is only capable of outputting three words.

'W-what the fuck?'

I can't even find the right words to illustrate the beings around me. The best way to describe their appearance is a bunch of cyan colored toddler human shaped bug looking thingies with black misshapen spots all over their bodies who also have humanlike faces and are all sniggering in an extremely high pitched tone as if they had been told the funniest joke in the world.

Its creepy as all hell.

I sit there on my behind, hands resting against the dirt, just taking in the scenery completely baffled. Then I look down.

It takes a few seconds but unfortunately; to my utter dismay, reality begins to sink in as I absorb my own features.

I raise my silvery grey hands in front of me, scrutinizing them thoroughly, and repeat the process for the rest of my body, occasionally glancing to the others for reference. 'What am I? Some kind of alien toddler?'

"Now, my dear children." A very attractive and very pleasant to hear voice interrupts the thoughts racing in my mind and temporarily cuts me away from my state of shock. I turn and see an… adult of whatever my species is? He looks exactly like us except green instead of cyan and stands at an impressively tall height.

Is that how I'm going to look when I get older? Guess I am an alien.

Huh.

You know he doesn't look half bad for being an alien, his face might be considered somewhat attractive, handsome even, especially with that jawline.

I suppose I should count myself lucky and look at the bright side. At least I don't look like a typical bug with the compound eyes and a wide array of limbs. And at least it seems we are an intelligent species given that he can talk. Also he said children, so I'm guessing its male and most likely my new dad. Better pay attention to his first words.

"Those seven on the cliff are your enemies. Give them pain. Kill them if it makes you happy." He says in a cheery tone with a charming smile.

Not really quite the choice of words I expecting and it just had to happen when I'm in the process of beginning to form a good opinion about my parent. I suppose it was my fault for expecting even a sliver of normalcy given my current predicament.

Still, telling a newborn baby to go out and fight to the death as soon as they're born, who should I complain to about this? This has to be a prank, no? If not, is there some sort of child protection agency I can go to for my species and where the hell is mom?

Well, might as well see who these so called 'enemies' are.

Maybe these 'enemies' aren't actually enemies, and my dad just has a colorful vocabulary. Maybe that's his way of introducing us to his friends? You know like 'go make life difficult for these loser friends of mine by bothering them,' and what not. Could also be a way to tell us to go play with... - and my hopes are thoroughly destroyed, eradicated with no mercy nor any remorse as I cast my gaze standing upon the cliff.

Humans. Most of them looking ready for combat and appearing terrified by our mere presence. Just my luck. Here I was hoping I could possibly integrate into human society if it existed.

I don't know why he thinks a newborn can fight and kill immediately after birth but maybe that's normal for my species? I can see my kin being able to walk around and move just fine without any help so perhaps our species is somewhat physically mature at birth instead of being helpless like a human baby would be.

"Heeheeheee!"

"Aheuehehue!"

"Kekekeke!"

A bunch of my rambunctious siblings release bloodthirsty eerie laughter which all but just confirms the warring nature of our species. I'm the only who doesn't laugh.

I don't know what the heck they're so excited about. I mean wow, look at the muscles on those guys and not to mention the hairdo's on a few of them. Even the smaller ones are more ripped and have more muscle density than Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Could it be possible that these people could be our designated gym trainers? Probably not considering the sentence spoken by my new dad just radiated evil.

If we really are going to fight in some sort of death match I can already tell we're going to get our asses handed to us. All of us are barely even two feet tall and daddy-o here is expecting us to fight a bunch of bodybuilders that would put the ones in my old life to shame. The hell is wrong with him? Who tells their kids to kill people as soon as they're born? Does he just want to see us get slaughtered cause he thinks it'll be funny? Maybe its just some kind of messed up joke. I'm not laughing, but my new family is cackling like mad so maybe it's a type of humor I'm not used to.

Also how on Earth can I see that far in the first place in this much detail? I've got like 300/20 vision. If that's just my eyesight then what about everything else? Guess my species doesn't fuck around on the evolution chain so maybe we have a chance? But then again how are we supposed to even get up there?

God I have so many questions.

I think I'll just observe my siblings do whatever they intend to; possibly getting the shit kicked out of them while I continue to sit here. I've got a few choice words to voice to mom when she gets back from wherever she went about this treatment. This is the worst case of child abuse I've ever personally encountered so far. A terrible feeling of foreboding that hints towards impending doom is swirling around in my gut indicating that its going to get worse.

"Hop to it." My dad commands and then I become absolutely flabbergasted as I watch my siblings fly like F-15 Eagle fighter jets towards our designated enemies.

As they do, a few of the humans turn into Hitler's wet dream, their hair changing to blonde, eyes becoming a cool azure, and a blazing yellow aura of fire washing over their forms as they prep themselves into some sort of combat stance. And then they fight. Fight like superheroes and supervillains straight out of a comic book.

I'm completely lost for words, my face that of a fish.

'Is this even real life? Maybe I'm just dreaming? God my head hurts.'

"Hmm?" My dad turns to face me, a disapproving frown present on his expression.

'Did I say that out loud?'

"And that as well. What's the matter with you boy? Don't you want to play with your new toys?" He questions almost innocently.

A shudder runs down my spine at the morbid juxtaposition between how he phrased it and the meaning behind it.

I look in the distance towards all of the combat. My new brothers and maybe sisters were absolutely savage. They were beating all of the humans senselessly, flying around bombarding them with quick kicks and punches.

Every now and then a blood curling scream filled with pain would ring out followed by laughter. I was completely wrong about how this fight would turn out. Whatever my species were, we were monsters.

Witnessing my siblings and their actions allowed me to develop a renewed semblance of understanding behind the motivations and behaviors of our kind. A warring species that loves to fight and abuse our enemies. That's what I've concluded based on these tens of seconds or so I've been alive for.

Now comprehending that I would possibly fair well in a combat against these people based off how everyone else in my family was performing, it was still a fight I definitely did not want to be tangled in for more than a few logical and completely sensible reasons. The main rationality comprising most of them being I had a feeling that we were the bad guys, but also primarily because I was a coward; I prefer the term pacifist, at heart.

The humans - and isn't that a strange thing to say - weren't ordinary by any means either. How could they be when they could fly around and chuck energy blasts of some type? This can't be real life. Humans can't do that… right? Maybe I've just gone insane.

I swivel my heard around in hopes that I wasn't the only who stayed behind and huh. There's some terrified kid who looks like he bench presses cars as a warmup just right behind me. The boy's wearing a battered purple karate uniform that's struggling for dear life to keep him clothed and all over his body are signs of beatings. He is easily by far the most jacked kid I've ever had the opportunity to encounter.

He has a nonsensical haircut and the color of his eyes and hair are identical to the ones who performed the crazy transformation at the top of the cliff so I guess he's related to one of them. He looks close to tears and now I realize that he's probably friends with those guys above.

I stare at him, and he turns to look at me. And then I point to him out of sheer stupidity and desperation as if questioning who my dad was referring to. I really didn't want to talk to my dad. He seems like a terrible parental figure, you know, because he's making babies fight with grown adults. To the death. So yeah.

"No, not him."

I reluctantly raise a finger to point at myself.

"Yes, I'm talking to you." My dad states. He cups a hand around his chin in contemplation and looks down at me. "This is indeed quite strange. When I created you I was sure I specified the correct biological programming needed. So why are you behaving like this?"

Okay so all of that weird information that attempted to brainwash me was his doing. I'm not sure how he programmed his sperm with instructions, could've genetically modified his swimmers or some shit I guess. With everything that's been going on, that's probably actually rather tame in comparison.

Regardless, this is my chance. Maybe I can tell him I don't want to fight and choose something else as a career. I haven't even sucked on my mom's tiddies yet so by all means, I deserve some time to think about it.

"I don't want to fight." I state with my squeaky little voice. It sounds awful, like the sound my dog's stuffed chew toy makes, but I guess its to be expected. Human babies would probably sound somewhat similar if they could talk from birth, I think. I don't know. I don't like hanging around babies. They stink and all they do is make messes, poop, eat, and cry all day. And even though people say babies are cute, I can't agree. They look like malformed midget humans to me. Animal babies like puppies are cuter. Much cuter.

His eyes widened temporarily when I spoke but narrowed into a glare almost immediately after. "What did you just say?" There's a barely concealed anger in his tone. He uncrosses his arms and approaches me in a threatening way, like he's ready to punt me. Oh God. Would he really physically abuse one of his own newborn children?

Who the hell am I kidding, of course he would!

In a bizzarro world with flying alien babies who fight superpowered Olympic bodybuilders to the death as soon as they come into existence, and a father who programs his own offspring to become serial killers, doubting anything is a very foolish course of thought. My mind was still reeling from all of this bullshit but I had to say something.

"I uh" - my arm reaches towards the back of my head to run its fingers through my hair only to make contact with my new head, huh, no more hair I guess - "want to explore possible career options instead of diving right into fights to the death. Maybe something like being a musician or even something as mundane as becoming an accountant might suit me better." I give a little shrug. The words I spouted even to my ears all sounded absolutely ridiculous as they left my lips, even when disregarding the voice of course.

I doubt my species had careers other than killing others. I didn't think about my answer. Neither of those career options were something I wanted to do so I have no idea why I suggested them.

I wasn't someone who did well under pressure and actually performed abysmally whenever that was the case even though I always lied about that little tidbit in job interviews.

My father stopped stock-still, completely frozen, his left eye twitching. That wasn't a good sign. The sounds that reverberated from the punching and kicking in the distance came to a close. Everyone, including my brethren were watching me in complete befuddlement.

Well this is awkward. I don't necessarily like being the center of attention, especially in situations where… you know what, I can't even really compare this situation to anything else. Its just that bizarre.

A pinging sensation rang in my head as if to alert me of danger. Somehow, I sensed it coming like some sort of spider sense that Spider-man has and managed to block a kick directed towards my abdomen by creating a cross guard with one arm over the other out of sheer instinct. Unfortunately, it didn't stop me from being launched into the air, the sounds of deafening wind stroking my ears, and finally crashing through several nearby mountains, the solid stone shattering and the structures collapsing from the impact, one after the other.

My arms ached and I spit out purple blood from the damage.

"Ughhh." I groan as I push boulders the size of a house off me with absolute ease and breathe in the fresh air.

Jesus fucking Christ, how am I still alive? In fact, I don't even feel that much pain from what I just went through. Hell, my arms hurt more from the kick than my back does from the collisions, a fact which is just boggling my mind.

A second later my father somehow appears in front of me, grabs my hand, pulls me out of the rubble, and then throws me like I'm not a living being that has feelings or a freshly made newborn baby back to where I was previously. As I impact the ground, a small crater is left in the aftermath.

The pain, once again, wasn't too bad. In my old life, stubbing my toe hurt more. I guess this is how my species punishes their children with how durable we are.

My dad moves like the Flash and is in front of me once more.

"Get up, now." He says in a tone filled with finality leaving no room for argument. It forces me to quickly comply and scurry out of the hole like a rat. I stand up for the first time in this life, isn't that a strange fact? "I won't entertain anymore of these childish games."

I snort in incredulity at the statement. Was he for real? "To be fair… I was only born like a minute ago." Probably not the best thing to say to the guy who blasted you through mountains but eh... whatever. I'm not even going to bother questioning what's going on anymore. At this point, I'm certain I must be on some sort of drug trip. Wouldn't be the first time but this experience definitely takes the cake.

He responds with a healthy slap against my cheek. Even though I don't go flying, this slap hurts me with more physical pain than anything I've endured so far which doesn't make a lick of sense.

"You're testing my patience, boy. Do you see the small bald one on top of the cliff?" I look and do indeed see a small bald one. He looks scared shitless. Ah. How nice to find someone who relates to me so well in such a short amount of time. I think we can get along well. "Fight him or I'll dispose of you here and now."

And our friendship ends before it can even begin. Well guess I have no choice... although, he didn't say how I should fight. I don't think I was born with the fighting instincts other members of my family have so maybe we can just have a friendly spar.

"NO!" A voice yells from behind me. Its that boy with crazy hair from earlier. "Please stop this. We don't have to fight."

My dad smiles menacingly anddddd that just confirms for me that my dad is in fact the bad guy. Its not like I had any doubts before this but well, it feels good to have my suspicions validated.

"Oh? What's this?" He laughs evilly, like a villain on a Saturday morning cartoon show. How cliché. He looks handsome while doing it but in an evil kind of way. If he's handsome then I'm handsome too, hopefully. My siblings were laughing like maniacs so it was hard to get a good perspective. Being handsome is the only thing I really ask for from whatever God may be responsible for my possible reincarnation. Being reincarnated as something everyone else considers ugly would suck balls. "Then you should do your best to get angry Gohan. Try and stop me otherwise they will all die by my hand." He clenches a fist and smiles menacingly, but also handsomely. "Your friends, your family, everyone on this planet! And the blame will solely fall onto you, your own burden for being so pathetically weak."

My dad has a talent for theatrics. All throughout his little lecture, his hand motions and tonal shifts were on point. He definitely qualifies as a top tier Saturday morning cartoon villain, including his deduction skills.

"Well technically..." - I interrupt with a finger raised into the air - "wouldn't that be your fau-" Light fills my eyes before I can finish my response. For a quarter of a moment I feel like I'm burning alive, but the sensation stops just as quick.

I lay there flat on my back. Did I just get hit by an energy blast? As I ponder this I maneuver myself into a sitting position and say "Ow." a few seconds after the event.

"What is wrong with you?! How can something of my own designs, something that came out of my own body, behave so utterly foolishly?" He exclaims exasperatedly.

'What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?' Words I want to say but I know better now. Even if this is a dream, that slap still hurt mighty fine.

Wait a second. "Hold up." I raise a hand. I know I was probably going to get blasted again for this, but I couldn't let this go. Also, maybe I wanted to see how he would react. "You gave birth to me, as in, I came out of you?"

Daddy stared at me utterly stupefied. I can't understand why, it's a perfectly valid question based off what he just stated. I suppose I should make the nature of my question clearer.

"I don't have a mommy?"

"NO! You do not have a mommy!"

"Where did I even come out from then? I feel sick. I think I'm gonna hurl."

"That's it!" He grabs my head with one hand, lifts me up into the air, and forces my eyes to meet his own only inches apart. They're cold, no warmth or compassion in those pink irises of his. "This is your last chance boy. Either you do as I say, or you die. Do you understand?" He hisses with a threat, nothing except absolute obedience demanded from his glare.

I stiffen immediately, fear quickly overriding all other emotions. I cast my gaze to the top of the cliff and then back to him. I'm not even sure how to fly up there like my siblings did in the first place.

Even though he's definitely a confirmed villain, I thought he wasn't the type to murder his own children. That was certainly an astute assumption in hindsight considering the beatings he gave me and the proclamation stating he would dispose of me if I didn't fight wasn't it? Welp, looks like I've got to play along for now. But before that, maybe I can get away with one more question of mine? To be honest its kinda fun messing with my dad, his reactions are completely over the top. Let's just go with something light and something that's been bugging me since the start. "Can I at least ask why we're fighting?"

"GRRRR." He grinds his teeth, visibly bristles, catches on fire, moves his hand behind his with me in its grasp, and tosses me like a football yet again. I don't try fighting the velocity. I'm still trying to process what fuck is going on and can't find it in myself to bother with attempting to stick my landing.

My face hits the ground, and rocks fly into the air announcing my arrival. I sit up and look directly in front of me. My dad has good aim, I landed directly in front of my supposed enemy. The small bald one, he's wearing some orange kind of karate uniform and shaking like an active drying machine. Guess that takes care of the flying issue. I look to my left and then my right and scan as much of the area as I can.

My siblings look like they're having the time of their lives while their opponents are taking beatings that should kill any normal human. They're losing badly and I don't feel good about it.

"P-please go easy on me." He whimpers.

I'm happy I'm fighting the person who looks to be the weakest here. Then again, appearances can be deceiving. I only have to look at the other kids in my family as proof.

"Sure. I don't mind. I don't even want to fight." Why are we fighting in hand to hand combat anyways? If we're trying to kill each other where are the guns? Or if our bodies are more lethal than any modern day weapons in this world, why not use swords or, I dunno... lightsabers maybe? That's not too farfetched right?

A smile plasters his face and his whole posture visibly brightens. "Oh good! That's really good." He huffs in relief before a tinge of suspicion laces his expression. "Y-you're not lying are you?"

"Nah." I dismiss his worries with a wave of my hand. "We have to make it look legitimate though otherwise my asshole of a dad will kill me." I say as I take up a boxing stance with him giving an audible snort in response. I'll hold back as much as possible.

This guy looks extremely weak, and if my punches are as dangerous as I'm starting to think they are I don't want to accidently kill him. Well, actually he looks like a strong buff midget, but not nearly as strong as the other humans, especially the blonde haired ones. Those guys just feel straight up different and not just in appearance.

I'm not sure how strong I am but given all that I've gone through so far and how powerful my species seem to be, its better to be safe versus killing someone on accident.

"What kind of stance is that?" He tilts his head to the side as he questions me.

"Um, it's used in boxing... I think?" Why is he judging me on my stance of all things?

"Oh." He doesn't look like he believes me, I was an amateur to be fair. Let's change the topic.

"Yep. What's your name?"

"K-krillin. Do you have one?"

"Nice to meet you Krillin. The name's…" That's odd. Why can't I remember? What other parts of my memory are missing? I can recall a lot of personal information that really isn't important but when I try to picture the faces of my family and even some of my friends, nothing comes to mind. Weird.

"My dad hasn't given me one yet, so I dunno."

"I guess that makes sense. W-well, you don't seem so bad especially compared to the other Cell... juniors." He let's out a sheepish laugh. The hell is a Cell junior? "I'm sure we can figure one out for you, if me and my friends make it out of this alive." He mumbles the last bit under his breath with a frown.

"BOY! YOU BETTER START FIGHTING NOW! OR ELSE!" My new dad threatens from afar, jolting me in surprise.

"Go fuck yourself." I whisper out beneath my breath as I glance towards papa for a split second. "Okay I'm coming." I say to Krillin in warning.

Krillin swallows a nervous gulp and readies himself, a sheen of sweating running down his forehead.

I run at him but everything feels off. When I look at my opponent its as if he's moving through molasses. I can see each and every bit of movement. From the shifting of his feet to the smallest twitch of his fingers, nothing escapes my perception. As I launch a jab towards his stomach, I notice he doesn't move nearly fast enough to block it so I stop myself short from actually hitting him. Am I really moving that fast? This is pretty damn cool. The fact that I actually have superpowers is extraordinarily surreal.

"Hey. Can you pretend as if I actually hit you next time?" I whisper as I whiff a kick.

He looks at me bewildered and then quickly nods. Good. I throw another punch towards him and stop short again. He promptly acts if I punched the life out of him, clutching his belly with both hands and starts gasping for breath. He's pretty good at this. If I wasn't aware of what he was doing, I wouldn't think he was acting.

Our routine continues with Krillin giving an Oscar worthy performance and me getting more used to what this body can do. Krillin moved like an expert martial artist while I was a complete amateur, but my vastly superior speed allowed me to easily overwhelm him if I ever did want to take him out.

I feel lighter and stronger than I've ever been. Even disregarding my crazy speed, I felt none of the aches, joint pain, or even the stiffness I was so accustomed to in my previous life. Is this how I used to feel as a child? Growing up truly was the worst thing that happened to me.

A few minutes later, I swear my dad legit somehow teleports behind me.

I turn around and go stiff at his expression. Shit I think he knows.

"You think you can fool me boy? You think I don't know what you're doing?"

My throat bobs and normally cold sweat should be running down my head in trepidation, fortunately though, my species doesn't look like it sweats. "You told me to fight, so... here I am, fighting." I shrug dismissively and say the words as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Once again the telltale sounds of combat come to a halt and its beyond apparent that everyone is watching us.

"You haven't landed a single hit."

"Yes I have."

"No, you haven't."

"Yes I have." It was true. I accidently hit him once, but I suppose I held back to the point it didn't affect him much so technically I'm not lying. "Why would I lie about this? I'm just doing what you told me to do."

"Hmm." He crosses his arms and looks at me with his lips pressed into a thin line. He scrutinizes every inch of my body, looking for… well something but I'm not sure what. "I suppose there is no benefit nor is there any reason for you to lie." I mentally sigh in relief. "Now kill him."

"NOOO! YOU CANT DO THIS!" Someone in the background screams but I don't really seem to register it.

"Say what now?" I ask for clarification.

"Kill him."

"Can you repeat that for me just one more time daddy?"

"I said kill him."

"I'm sorry I didn't-"

"KILL. HIM. BOY." He snarls with promised murder.

I look to Krillin then back to my dad and then back to Krillin and then back to my dad and then look to the sky in an attempt to find some sort of distraction.

I'm toast. I'm not an idiot; most of the time at least, but there's no way I can fight my dad without dying and I just cant bring myself to kill someone who hasn't done me any harm. Krillin also seems like a decent guy all around.

I take in a deep breath and commit to the only thing possible when faced in confrontations like this. I unleash one of my inner thoughts that has been building up since my father first addressed me to hopefully change the topic.

"Can I have name other than 'boy'?"

"What?" Papa's mouth is left partially agape, his alien brows furrowing in confusion.

"I don't even know if I have anything down there so am I really a boy? I mean look." I pat the strange black area that acts as my crotch. "Can't feel nothing there. No sir. Not a single thing. No willy, weiner, dongler, or peenor in sight. Is there some sort of button I need to press for it to come out? I've tried thinking dirty thoughts but nothing happens. Maybe I'm not old enough? That makes sense actually." I scrunch my jaw with a hand in contemplation.

I then feel up my dad's crotch; it's flat and hard.

Wow what is wrong with me? I superficially gag and shake my hand in disgust as if I ran my hand through my dog's stool. It actually happened to me once while I attempted to pick up the evidence of his dirty deed. The bag apparently had a tear in it and long story short, I had to walk for twenty minutes with a hand coated in poop. Good times.

I recollect myself and focus on the conversation at hand. "Where was I again? Oh right! Doesn't look like you have anything either. Plus you gave birth to me so are you a female or a male? Based of the tone of your voice I'd say male but then again you did give birth to us. Hrmmmm."

I cross my arms and begin to walk back and forth as my millions of thoughts ran wild.

"Seeing as how you reproduced asexually our species is probably labelled as non-gendered unless" - I hesitate for a moment and then slap a fist into an open palm - "you actually got impregnated by a male and are a confirmed female. Or maybe for our species the female is the one that fucks the male and the male is the one that gives birth, like seahorses!"

Everything is quiet other than the rustling of the wind. I then quickly run behind my dad and poke at his tail. In my periphery I see his jaw hanging low, his face an expression of absolute bewilderment. Welcome to my world.

I had to keep up this charade for as long as I can. The longer I go on with these nonsensical ramblings, the more likely he is to forget what he just asked of me. As evidence to my genius master plan, I've already forgotten so clearly its fool proof.

"How come me and my siblings don't have one of these? Oh wait, is this our reproductive organ? Why don't I have one? Will it grow when I come of age? Why's it connected to our backside rather than our frontside? And why for God's name is it so long? I'm not complaining but it seems a bit much for anyone to handle. And then there's the fact its on our back and not our front. I mean can you imagine having sex jabbing someone while facing the other direction? Seems all kinds of weird y'know. Just isn't natural. And dad why aren-"

Raw unhindered pain assaults my stomach. It hurts, it hurts so fucking much. I swear to God it feels like my stomach has caved in.

"eeeee…" I strange sounds leaves my throat as I desperately gasp for some sort of reprieve. I collapse onto my knees, clutching my stomach just like Krillin did when he was pretending, except this time I'm the one who's supposed to be in pain, and this time its for real.

"I've had enough of your nugatory drivel!" Papa says, his voice roaring like thunder. "Let this be a lesson to all of you if any of you ever dare disobey me like this fool does!"

"HAAAAAA!" He charges up a glowing orb within the palm of one of his hands. My spidey sense rings like crazy, screaming at me to avoid this at all costs but I'm still reeling in pain from his gut punch and can't find it in myself to move.

At the very last moment, right as he releases the stored up energy, my body seems to have a mind of its own. My arms stretch out in front of me to the limit and just as I feel the blistering heat that would seal my fate, a spherical translucent barrier spreads around myself.

And then pain. Burning blistering pain assaults me all over my body, it's the only thing I can understand as I'm soaring, spiraling in the air without any semblance of control. My eardrums are left ringing, as if I'd been hit by a flashbang and the smell of my own scorched charred flesh fills my nostrils.

I crash straight through a nearby rocky mountain, the massive landmass not even hindering my pace, but the next two or three do, before the ground finally halts it completely.

The covers to my eyes feel heavy. It's a mission to even try to lift them open.

"..H..ur..ting.."

*RUMBLE RUMBLE*

As I manage to get a peek through my eyelids with a colossal amount of effort, the last thing I see before I lose consciousness is a massive landslide that's buries me alive.

Link: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/14085800/1/Acid-Trip