Blinding Rage (Dosu)

A good day it was. By hell standards, at the very least. After spending some time here, his points of reference started warping little by little. What was good weather? Bad weather? It was all mostly the same, here. Some people kept trying to preserve their humanity by hosting events like this one from time to time, as a way to make things appear less redundant, to stay motivated and stimulated. To, as weird as it might sound, try having a proper community. He had learned with time that not only bad guys dwelled the depths of Hell, but a lot of average joes too. They constituted the majority of the people here, often falling prey to the true evil lurking in the background. Now, the Heran didn’t feel anything special towards them, but what he did enjoy, however, was the chance to get a chili dog from time to time as he watched people swim in the blood lake. Not quite what he expected when he first came down here. He had simmered down with time, started thinking about what he truly wanted.

Come to think of it, he probably was similar to that dude over there throwing a tantrum for no good reason. Sensing his power, he noticed he was rather strong, at least as much as he was. The golden color of his hair, a Saiyan, huh? People flew from every side as they tried containing the madman and Dosu, comfortably sitting in his long chair bit down on that chili dog. What kind of meat was that, anyway? It was kind of gamey, not as processed as the ones they had on Earth. Not bad, but not quite the real deal. He supposed he couldn’t really complain about that.

A beaten-up ogre ended up beside him, the poor thing barely alive. Looking again at the center of attention, he saw as Vocado was about to wreck the food cart. He tried letting out a “HEY!”, his hand reaching forward but it was too little too late. In his blind rage, the Saiyan had completely wrecked it. Urgh, what was he supposed to do, now? He supposed it couldn’t be helped. He might as well take it as some kind of training.

He walked up behind the Saiyan, masking his energy level. Once behind him, he tapped on his shoulder with his finger.

“Over here, dumbass.”

Should he turn his head to look at him, Dosu would power up in his Super Heran transformation in an instant, launching a hook with such force that the friction of his fist and the air almost made it sound like a jet engine, hitting the Saiyan straight in the face, then rotating his body to follow through with the punch after the initial hit to attempt and bring him down on the ground.

The Heran’s face lit up with glee as he witnessed the Saiyan taking the hit while standing up. Worthwhile foes were hard to come by these days, maybe this one would prove a challenge. His wrist was swatted away quickly and then came the knee, digging deep into his stomach, despite his tensed up abdominal muscles trying to absorb the shock.

“Uuurgh!”

His knees felt weak for a second, his face deforming into a grimace from the sudden pain. Both arms covered his injured stomach his back arching. As the pain faded away, his expression of surprise and pain quickly changed into a playful grin.

“Haha! You’ve got something there! I felt that one! But that’s not nearly enough.”

As he said that last part, his gaze became provocative, almost inviting him to try again. The Saiyan broke into insults. What was he saying about him? Scrawny? Come on, that had to be a joke. There was no way he could think that seriously after seeing these sublime, well-developed biceps of his.

“Well then, COME ON!!”

He met Vocado’s tackle with resistance, his feet digging in the dirt as he was pushed back. Trying to get him on the ground, was he? He added more strength of his to the clash, eventually coming to a halt. His hips maintained his posture as he lifted both arms in the air, joining them above his head.

“You’ll find I’m not that easy to take down either, Saiyan.”

With a mighty blow, he brought down both arms to hit Vocado’s back, hopefully smashing him to the ground. After that, he created some distance of his own, preparing a sphere of red ki in his hand. He waited for a move before sending it at his opponent.

Dosu’s face was filled with amusement as he watched the raging Saiyan letting his madness reign supreme. Was that how he looked before? Both of his arms rested on his hips, his chest fully visible and vulnerable to his opponent. One of his eyebrows shot up as he felt Vocado powering-up yet again, his body bulking to an almost disproportionate amount. Deep down, he knew the Saiyan was above him in terms of raw power. Whoever that man was, it was certain he was no pushover. Then, why had he never heard of him before? Strong Saiyans were a dime a dozen, but aside from the Saiyan Queen, he had never seen such a strong one. That was not saying he was worried, however. In his condition, Dosu had nothing to fear from that guy. That’s why he chose to play it cool, with humor.

“Haha! Look at you! Are you trying to imitate me? I’d imagine people would get jealous upon seeing a body like mine.”

He opened his shirt, his glistening green skin in full view as well as his well-defined muscles. Maybe it’d have the side-effect to enrage him further and hopefully, it would be the case. Still, despite his laid-back demeanor, he was very much waiting for Vocado to make a move. His tensed-up muscles needed only a reason before reacting and he felt every inch of his body whenever Vocado took a step, the very ground quaking under his foot. With a mighty roar, he finally lunged at him with power and speed he had never seen before. The good thing was that his body was able to keep up with the speed. As the hit connected, the dust lifted off the ground, enveloping both fighters in a cloud. Everything felt like the punch hit its target, but the Heran wasn’t sent flying. As the dust settled, it was revealed that Dosu caught the punch seemingly effortlessly, just a few centimeters from his face. Effortlessly was probably an understatement, however. He could very well feel the pain through his entire arm and if he wasn’t controlling himself, then surely his hand would be shaking all over. It was like catching a comet barehanded, probably much more than that.

While keeping his grip on the hand before him, he moved his head to the side, looking impressed.

“Damn! That was one hell of a punch. I can feel it in my arm still. I guess I should power up too.”

His eyes narrowed and his playful smile morphed into a grin as the air around him suddenly became denser. His ki was seeping out of his body, filling the space around them. An ominous vibe emanated from that energy, so much that the people around them that had not been blown away just yet started having trouble breathing. To Vocado, however, that energy released would push down on him, as if the gravity had increased several times.

“You ready for the real fun?”

The man’s rage rendered him unable to truly what was going on at that moment. Shouldn’t the very fact that Dosu caught his attack make him realize that he should get some respect for his opponent? Well, it was not like the Heran could blame him, since this all felt pretty familiar to him. In a similar situation, he probably wouldn’t be able to do much more. It was rather interesting to have another perspective on that state of mind. Was he always that awkward when he was doing it? At least the Saiyan had the power to back it up, which made things just that bit more serious so he couldn’t simply brush it off with a joke.

As Dosu powered up, the air around him became thicker, his own ki filling up space around them, the sheer pressure causing structures around them to break and collapse under the weight. If there were anyone besides them caught in the area, they would probably suffer a similar fate, the crushing aura being simply too much to handle for most. Yet, with the persistence that deserved commendation, the Saiyan pushed forward, persevering through the attack as if it was almost nothing. The Heran reeled back his fist to prepare a punch as he got into range, but the Saiyan disappeared in the instant, only to reappear right in front of him. Taken aback by the sudden burst in speed, he lost focus, dropping his attack and failed to move back enough to avoid the headbutt, letting a grunt of pain escaped as he was sent back. He stopped his course backward by setting his hand down on the ground, pushing himself up, and doing a couple of backflips before landing. His sight met a violent flash of light as he swayed his body to the side, the beam grazing his chest of ripping off his clothes in the process. Damn, that was close.

However, the Heran got careless a moment too long as he felt the energy changing its course and coming right back at him. From his position, he knew very well what was going to happen and so he braced himself.

<Shit…I can’t dodge that!>

He took the attack head-on, disappearing into a cloud of smoke as the explosion engulfed him completely. Silence fell on the battleground for a little while as the wind steadily blew away the dust and smoke. As the cloud grew smaller in size, within the impact zone, the shadow of a figure was shown, still standing. Then, Dosu came into view, certainly bleeding and far from unscathed from the attack, but still showing the confidence of someone who had dealt with way worse in the past. He spat out blood on the ground, still looking at the Saiyan.

“Is. That. It?” he said, putting emphasis on each word, just to rile him up a little further. Perhaps it would be enough to renew that frenzied rage of his and force him to drop his guard.

“I’ll show you real power if you don’t mind. You seem like you need the reality check really bad, blonde-haired freak. Overwhelming power versus your little flashy trick. Let's see which one is the best!”

Ki began swelling from the green man, dark red tendrils of energy separating from his body and curling up above him. The same crushing pressure could be felt, but this time it was only localized directly around the man. The sheer pressure of the energy made him sink a little into the ground as the energy condensed in his arms. His aura looked ominous and threatening, but also under control. A contained madness that was completely devoted to strike Vocado and give him as much pain as possible. With a single movement, he ran towards Vocado, trying to punch him right into the chest. Should it work, the entirety of his charged energy would instantly transfer itself to Vocado before expanding from the inside, expanding into a large pillar that shot up to the sky, engulfing the Saiyan completely. In the past, the usage of such a technique would have also struck him in the process, but recent training granted him a better control over his own energy, allowing him to complete the move.

Hah! Right on target! He watched as the helpless Saiyan disappeared in the column of red ki. There was something satisfying in seeing his returned power in action, for once he was able to let loose. If only he had that strength against Kalabas, he wouldn’t have died in the first place. Unfortunately, while dead, there was no dying again, which lead to anticlimactic endings. His opponent had fallen…then got back up. Maybe it wasn’t just strong enough, after all? Whatever damage it did, however, it sufficed to calm the man. As the barbaric rage of Vocado subsided, so did his. Their eternal damnation meant they would not get to enjoy the thrill of a kill once more, so pursuing such things would only tear away at their mind. Better forget about it and take whatever little enjoyment. He powered down from his state, returning to normal. The total shift in personality felt weird for an instant, causing Dosu to remain wary of any potential attack. So, this guy was a fresh dead soul, who had just realized what happened to him. Well, he certainly couldn’t blame him, after all he had gone through a similar phase not too long ago.

“Would you look at that! Another one freshly fucked by the world. I suppose you can find some solace in the fact that we’re all the same ‘round here, more or less. Bunch of losers, myself included.”

He shook the hand that was offered to him. It’d be weirder not to, anyway. If the Saiyan had any intention of doing a cheap shot, Dosu figured he could probably take it as well. He had strength to spare, after all. The name Vocado felt familiar for some reason, though he was certain he had never met this man in person before. Given his strength, he probably wasn’t just any weakling either.

“Call me Dosu. You probably know where we are already. That’s Hell. Welcome to your eternal torment, Vocado.”

He puffed his chest as he breathed, exhaling as he looked to the horizon. He shrugged.

“Hey, it’s clearly not as worse as one might think. They’re all weaklings around here, anyway, so no one is gonna cause you much trouble. So, who did you in? Lemme guess, was it betrayal? Hmm, nah, you look smarter than that, despite the foam-at-the-mouth, raging part. My guess is that you were fighting multiple people, with no room for mistake. So they wore you down until you couldn’t do jack shit, is that it?”

It was his own personal story, but a gut feeling told me he wouldn’t be too far from the truth if he assumed as much from Vocado.

Tales of same-minded individuals apparently had a lot in common. Dosu wondered if their struggle was more on the poetic side or simply just pathetic. While outside opinions would probably gravitate towards the latter, the Heran couldn’t help himself but find something endearing about it. That impression of being alone against the world, misunderstood…unless they were simply prey to their own delusions? Which one was it? Were they so inherently wrong that their existence was a mistake in itself? One so grave that the entire world had to join forces in order to end it? Just where exactly had they stopped being right? What choice transformed them into losers, into people whose existence was unnecessary? Did everything revolve around the principle of “the greater good”? Was it even worth racking their brain over it? Probably not. Everything could be boiled down to something far simpler.

There were two kind of people. The good and the fucked. If you’re not part of one, then you’re the other.

And Vocado’s story served as the prime example. It rang so true to Dosu that it might as well have been his own. He had almost guessed it. The Saiyan’s surprise at how close he was simply reinforced his thoughts. It garnered a chuckle from the Heran who smiled throughout the tale, a masochistic pleasure running down his spine as he listened. It was all too familiar.

“I have at least a dozen stories that follow the same structure. Feels like a bad theater play that keeps repeating itself, if you want my opinion. I guess I wouldn’t mind it as much if I got something out of it.”

At least, Vocado was a bit luckier than he was, despite the situation. Managing to get a few people down was a nice consolation prize, all things considered. Of course, that chance was not given to him, since the odds were simply too stacked against him. He did not have the luxury of toying with other’s minds, though he wasn’t sure if he was even capable of that in the first place. No, he only had his fists to rely on and they failed him on that day. When the Saiyan tried to guess own the Heran had met his demise, he simply laughed. A genuine laugh at hos ridiculously close he was to the truth.

“Haha! You’re close, but not quite. As fate would have it, I was also after the Dragon Balls. Had one in my possession. My body had grown weary and sick from a lifetime of being subject to that “justice” these so-called protectors of the universe preach. I wanted to regain my youth, regain my strength. Others sought them as well. I was so weak I could barely stand up to that ghost that another creature showed up. He got sweet-talked into fighting me and it simply devolved from there. In retrospect, I think they were both stronger than me. They still chose to team up against me. See, I don’t care much about fair fights, so I simply resigned to my fate then. There’s no use for words if no one’s willing to hear you. I was the bad one, so it was only natural to kill me. But you know what’s funny? By dying, my wish came true, in a sense.”

He stretched his arms before crossing them over his chest.

“And now we’re both here. See, I would have preferred if dying was simply the end. I’d have less to think about. Now, I can’t help but think about how I just want to go back to the world of the living and beat them. Without reason, without purpose. Just because I crave the pain and want to dish it back. Sharing is caring, as they would say. And if they kill me again, well, I already know the way…”

He let out a sigh.

“But there’s this part of me that’s wondering if I should just let go. I’ve met people here. With the same experiences, the same struggles. I can find comfort here where I would not elsewhere. Aaaaaand there’s the third option. To stop thinking and go with the flow.”

He looked at the Saiyan.

“What do you want to do? Got some unfinished business?”