Dragon Ball x Reader

Demented - Vampire! Zamasu x Priestess! Reader

Sorry for dipping again I had to put in my two week notice at my job bc they haven't scheduled me for a whole month it's been rough so ima drop a long one here. Do be warned this one's pretty dark.

Last edit: March 29, 23

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Your captor's hands were cold enough to feel all the way to your bones. Choking on smoke and your flowing tears, you had originally demanded to know where you were being taken, but now you understood. The stone temple on the edge of the town you had been lodging in that hadn't yet been touched by the foreign invaders. It was a place of worship from a bygone era, a forgotten relic of faith and community that was slowly giving into the thick forest. The aged wooden doors had been opened in a manner that should have been inviting, but instead they looked like the rotting teeth framing the dark unknown of a monster's deadly jaws. The sight made you go limp, forcing your captor to drag you within.

Of all the fear that had stricken you upon waking up, this thick sense of dread was the worst of it. You kept shaking your head, kept begging over and over, telling him that you'd rather take your chances with his beastly acquaintances in the village than face whatever lurked in that temple. But your cries fell on dead ears and by the time you found the strength to fight, it was too late. The soldier threw you into the temple without uttering a word, sending you to your knees with a guttural yelp that echoed in the small space.

The force with which you landed would bruise your hands and knees, but it wasn't the pain that made you fully aware of the reality of your situation. The stone was covered with a thin layer of blood and the heat of the fire behind you, despite the fact that it was the middle of winter. It was their doing, these creatures who had come directly from those whispered stories. A dreadful chill, monstrous fiends that existed only in the darkness, that took form in the moonlight. The fallen angels, they were called by some. They had been terrorizing the north for months, cutting a bloody path with their signature telltale destruction, burning hatred, and blood drained corpses. The irony of you finally finding your target by becoming prey wasn't lost on you. The constant screaming behind you was far too loud for that.

Slowly but surely, fearing what you'd might see, your eyes rose from the rough, bloodied stone. Laying at the edge of the shadows was not the monsters you feared, but a body. Cold swept all the way down into your bones-a cold that had nothing to do with the frost or the puff of your breath in front of your face or the chills crawling over your clammy skin beneath your far too-thin nightdress.

"T-Trunks?" you asked, crawling towards him. He didn't move and you knew that his was the pallor of the dead, that his glassy eyes were unblinking. Empty. Not a single sign of life. You knew but you couldn't accept it because he was strong, powerful, confident. Trunks was always full of life, courageous, and bravery. There was just no way. "Trunks..." you said again, touching his frigid cheek. Your mind, acting automatically, began to search for a prayer to help him. He, like so many others in that village, didn't pray to the gods, but he was the one who insisted he bring along a priestess. "Someone in the gods' good graces", he said, would be helpful when killing inhuman behemoths. You sobbed at the idea, pressing your cheek again to his in the desperate hope to share your warmth. It was so, so cold, your breath puffing vapor and little tremors tugging through your limbs. "Trunks, p-please, get up."

"There's little point in pleading, mortal" a low voice said. Looking up, you saw nothing. Nothing, as if the words were a manifestation of the wretched, vile darkness. But there was a dim glimmer in the shadows, the glowing ember of an animal's rabid eye towering above you. Your first thought was that a gargantuan wolf had managed all of this, the idea wrenching a scream from your throat, your shaking hands bunching in Trunks 's tattered uniform to try and pull him back from the creature. But the sound of remorseless footsteps followed your pitiful retreat.