Phantom

Disclaimer:I don't own DBZ, blah, blah, blah.

A/N:Phantom.Yeah, I've settled on that name cuz it fits the story better than the others I was deciding on: Séance or Answers.I was originally gonna mark this a horror or spiritual cuz this's gonna be full of "spirit", but, you know, that whole, "What If It's Not Horrific Enough?" problem worries me, lol.

And I guess you can call this an AU, because of this happening, which I'm willing to bet could have never. Anyway, I thought this way of that whole "Why Did You Save Me?" interpretation is pretty interesting. I rather like it. And I hope you do too. R&R!

The first time she'd made her appearance was about a week after Cell, sometime near midnight.

He'd felt the chill in the air, like a draft wafting in from a window, though none were open and he was under the covers.

An unnatural static raised the hair on the back of his neck, causing his heart rate to speed up drastically.

He'd jolted up in bed, clutching the edge of his sheets, his mouth humid and sticky.

A sharp pain of fear rippled down his spine. She was there, staring at him, her pale, blue eyes seeming to glow in the dark.

Her expression was grave as she hissed the eeriest sentence: "Give me what I want."

He'd backed against the headboard as she advanced toward him, gasping hoarsely for air. His body was unbelievably cold. "H-huh?"

She took a menacing step forward, her fists clenching at her sides. He could feel wicked energy radiating from them as he shivered, his heart thudding in his chest.

"Give me what I want," she repeated coldly.

His breathing had been ragged as he stared at her, frightened, wanting to duck back under his sheets.

W-what she wanted? What did she want? How was he supposed to know what she wanted? Did he want something from him?

He merely shook his head, whimpering slightly. His body was freezing now, though sweat trickled down his back. "S-sorry . . . I-I don't . . . ."

A noise like static crackled, causing his blood to run cold as she advanced closer, slamming her fists down on the edge of his bed, leaving a strange rusty-red stain on his blankets. "Answer me, Krillin!"

To hear her use his name startled him and the voice suddenly sounded extremely familiar. He could barely make out a glint of gold in the darkness.

"Juu— Juuhachigou?"

She didn't answer him, only continued to glare at him with gleaming eyes that blazed with intensity and malice, so unlike the terrified face he remembered when she'd been on the run.

It was like she'd totally changed back to the monster who'd pummeled Vegeta mercilessly. The expression she was wearing looked stoic, but he could see. She was furious. And he was afraid.

"Give me what I want!" She shouted again, her bared teeth a white arc in the blackness. "Give it to me, now!"

Her voice was layered with ferocity, her hands clenching tightly the edge of his mattress, as if threatening to set it afire. Another scarlet mark was wiped onto his covers, though he couldn't really distinguish it, or the odd drip-drip sound like something hitting the wood floors.

His bottom lip quivered unceasingly as he gripped the blankets in terror, scooting into the farthest corner of his bed.

"I-I don't . . . I don't know what you want!" He blurted, panic-stricken. "I don't know what you want from me!"

Her face looked so sure, so determined and seething when she growled out something unexpected: "Answers."

And it was then that he noticed the blood . . . crimson liquid dripping down from her chest, descending and tainting her striped sleeves, pooling on the hardwood floors.

He blinked in horror. "J-Juuhachigou? W-what's wrong? What happened to you?"

She looked as if she wanted to hit him . . . to murder him, even. "You did this! You did this to me! So give me what I want! Give me the answers!"

He was lost for words as she progressed toward him even more, blood splattering in macabre splotches on his covers, her face twisted with rage as she reached for him angrily.

The static noise fizzed louder and a cold numbness traveled through his body, nearly freezing his heart.

"What— what answers?" He stammered. "What do you mean?"

But he was never answered. Because just like that, she faded away, along with her voice. Like a fog or a mist. She just drifted into the air and disappeared.

The puddles of blood were no longer visible in the dark.

He was still badly perturbed, though, even if everything appeared as if he'd dreamt it up. Even if everything was gone . . . the uneasy feeling was still there.

When Krillin had awoken the following morning, he checked everything in his room a frenzied manner.

No windows were busted or looked like they'd been opened in ages. There were no footprints on the floors, nor was any of what he thought blood. There were no stains on his sheets.

Nothing was out of the ordinary. And that alone was weird, since something strange had occurred last night. Something that had left him petrified and unable to sleep for the rest of the night.

After a few minutes of useless searching, he changed the sheets— just in case— and tiredly stumbled down the stairs, hoping that Master Roshi or Oolong had at least fixed an edible, replenishing breakfast. But that was too much to ask for, apparently.

Master Roshi was sitting way too close to the television and eating a bowl of cereal when he'd gotten down the stairs, whereas Oolong paced the kitchen, muttering to himself about whether the house had anything to eat that didn't make him seem like a cannibal.

Umigame was actually the only one who seemed to acknowledge the other housemates arrival. "Morning, Krillin."

Krillin mumbled an exhausted, "Morning," back before slumping limply into the red couch, not really energized enough to scavenge for food.

The scenes from last night motioned chronically in his mind, like a tape rewinding and playing over and over.

Juuhachigou had shown up in his room. Juuhachigou! Only she looked as if she'd wanted to kill him. She'd looked evil, demanding that he'd give her something she so badly wanted.

Answers, she'd said. What answers though? Answers to what, exactly? And why had she believed he'd had them? And why . . . had she been bleeding? Bleeding and calling it his fault?

Shuddering, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to forget the appalling blotches that had once tainted his blankets.

Or had they? Had he possibly dreamt the entire thing? The chilly feelings too? It was all too bizarre.

The whole time, he'd felt Umigame's eyes on him and glanced down at the turtle resting near his feet.

"Is there something you want, Umigame?" He asked politely, a bit glad to turn his mind to something different.

The old sea turtle continued to study him intently, as if thinking about something important.

"Are you ok?" He finally asked.

"I-I'm just . . . tired," Krillin replied truthfully. His yawn came on cue. "Why do you ask?"

And he completely regretted asking that when Umigame regarded him closely, his answer slow as usual, "Well . . . it's just that you . . . were screaming last night, Krillin. I was truly concerned. It sounded as if you were in genuine terror."

He gulped deeply, feeling his heart skip a beat. So he'd really been screaming. He couldn't tell him. Everyone would think he was crazy lovesick, or something.

"O-oh. W-well, you didn't check up on me, did you?" Maybe he'd seen Juuhachigou?

"Oh, no," the reptile said. "I assumed it was a nightmare. I didn't want to disturb you."

He mentally sighed. "That's . . . fine. It was a nightmare anyway. Just a nightmare."

He really hoped it was. With all his heart. Because if that had been Juuhachigou . . . . A sick feeling rose in his stomach. He didn't even want to think about that.

A/N: So how was that, you guys? A great start? A terrible one? I know it all seems unclear, but . . . that'll change. R&R!