Undead

Stumbling through the door with arms full of bags of various sizes, Bulma mentally berated herself for going on the extended shopping binge. The blue haired scientist kicked the door shut behind her and dropped the bags by the door after sifting out a glass bird she had bought earlier for the kitchen window. ‘I will put the clothes away later’ she mentally noted to herself and walked down the long hallway to the kitchen. It had been a slow month of inventing and paperwork, which is probably what stirred the sudden urge to procure the different colored garments that sat folded by the door, that and the decorative bird. As she walked through the archway into the kitchen, she raised her head from the glass in her hand and her breath hitched at the sight before her.

It wasn’t the defensive stance her husband stood in, or the knife in his hand. It was the murderous glare that was fixed on his usually stoic face. The same look he had for Goku when they were mortal enemies and to Freeza who kidnapped him as a child and forced him into servitude after destroying his home. The look of pure hatred and malice dripped from his royal features, and something else…

It took every ounce of will power to tear her eyes from the Sayjin to what could have caused this reaction. There across the room was another man. A little taller than the Sayjin, his face was partially hidden by black cloth and wasn’t armed…as far as she could tell. Why was he such a threat? She could no longer continue her musings as a familiar voice yelled out.

“BULMA!”

Looking back to her husband, her blue eyes locked with her husband from the stars.

Fear.

He was afraid. Wait? What?!! Vegeta…Was afraid?! What the fuck? Her head snapped back to the stranger who’s eyes weren’t on Vegeta and face no longer shrouded in darkness by the offending cloth. The scientists blood ran cold as she became trapped like a deer in headlights to the haunting stare of her eldest son from another time. The glass ornament fell to the floor and shattered as her arms fell slacked to her sides, eyes clouded, and jaw became partially gaped as all conscious thought fell through the cracks of her mind.

***

“It’s how they managed to take the population so quickly.” Mirai spoke quietly towards the table. “I killed most of them when I destroyed the ships…but I couldn’t get them all. The ones that landed quickly dispersed among the remaining population and fed. It was impossible to pull away from their stare; I don’t know why…it just is. Most of the people they transfixed and fed on died from blood loss, but if the creatures didn’t kill them after they fed… they turned. They turned into these things that clawed, and bite…and hunted all living things…” His breath hitched as his bright blue eyes darted to the right, a painful memory played across his features for a moment before he continued. “The humans that got infected were not like the aliens. Those things had conscious thought. They could pilot ships through space, could speak, and for the most part organize into a formidable fighting force. No, the people were nothing like that. Just mindless things, a hollow shell of what was once humans, now bent on feeding. Always feeding.” Again his eyes seemed to glaze over, this time with a look of desire. “I came here to warn you.” A small laugh. “Well that’s not entirely true… I came here because I need your help. I was bitten by one of the aliens and I turned into, this.” He motioned to himself. “I figured if anyone could help me, it would be you, mother” he glanced up, then immediately averted his eyes back down. “Please… I don’t want to hurt anyone…but I have father’s appetite. And animal flesh is only so palatable…” he trailed off licking his lips slightly at the thought of quenching the debilitating hunger that would surely drive him to madness. “I am telling you the truth. They are coming and unless we figure out a way to stop them, your world will be just as doomed as the rock I abandoned.”

Mirai was seated at the table across from the shaken scientist, head fixed on the texture of the table. Vegeta stood behind his time traveling son with a fistful of lavender hair a knife in the other to the young man’s throat ready to slice at a moment’s notice if the words from his mouth were not satisfactory.

Vegeta had sensed something was amiss from the moment he allowed the young warrior entry to his domicile, but it wasn’t until they reached the kitchen that the waver in the boy’s Ki triggered a memory long since repressed from his many years of servitude under the ice demons rule.

Fast healers… aversion to sunlight… deadly stare… Humans know them as mythical Vampires, but the aliens were known by the universe and referred to as Necri’s. Dead by any conventional definition, but plagued underdeveloped planets leaving ghoulish animated corpses in their place. Not conscious half-breads. That’s the only reason Vegeta didn’t kill Mirai when the time traveler’s eyes shifted from his to his wife. Giving Vegeta the opportunity to put them in the situation they currently reside. The price knew the fastest way to kill one of these things was as much blood to spill as possible, as opposed to bodily harm. Hence the knife. If what the boy was saying is true, then the earth was in grave danger. Not even the imbecile would be able to stop the plague that threatened the blue-green planet. Swallowing hard, the price digested the words presented before him carefully before removing his hands, stepping back and clearing his throat.

“when?”