Disclaimer: sigh no, I do not own Dragon Ball Z, although I have to say I would love to, but I don't so I allow my imagination with the DBZ characters to run rampant here in the comfort of fellow fans and not on world wide television. Oh and half of the title is inspired by the Blind Guardian song, Welcome to Dying.

Yeah new fanfic, I'm one of those people whole reads seven books at once and I'm no different with writing stories because I just get distracted with other ideas and have to write them, my updating will be sporadic because of this but and the fact that I have very difficult classes with very time-consuming homework assignments, but I'll try my hardest. Enjoy!

WELCOME to DYING: ONE NAMEK'S STRUGGLES in the BOWELS of HELL INTRODUCTION: the TREACHEROUS CONSIQUENCES

Piccolo pulled out of his light meditation, it had to be a light meditation, less he be jumped by his many enemies, and uneasily got to his feet. His muscles screamed with pain, who would have imagined such pain could be so predominate in death? Then again, he was in Hell. Hell, he never thought he would spend the eternity of his afterlife within the depths of this place, but here he was. "Goku," he thought, "I hope this sacrifice was worth it." Hew thought back to his reckless decisions that lead him to be doomed to Hell and allowed him to free Goku from his unjust imprisonment in this place. The thought of where he would be had he not done that tantalized his brain but he quickly dismissed it, knowing that in the end… he would not have done things different. "Kami, how I've changed," he thought, "born to destroy Goku and turn Earth into a living nightmare as ordered by Daimoa, and here I am, in Hell after bring changed by my nemesis' son and rotting in this place to liberate the very one I was born to kill." He growled at his nostalgia, "huh, I've gotten soft……… I wonder who will try to torment me today," he grimaced at that thought, he was enjoying the steady and insane power increase but he wouldn't mind if there was a less… tortuous way to do it. "Ha! Who am I kidding, I'm in Hell, pain is what it is made for, and gaining strength is something I've always craved, snort I may even be able to give Goku a run for his money the way this was heading."

He inspected the wounds he received from the previous day's run in with Kid Buu. For the millionth time he blessed his Namekian regeneration abilities. Where he had been impaled though the stomach was still raw and bleeding, but it certainly looked and felt better than when he got it. The chi burns on his hands were almost non-existent, his cracked ribs were no longer tender, and the slew of minor injuries were completely gone. His muscles cramped and ached still, it was not surprising though, he had been engaging in high-powered, high-speed and high-adrenaline battles every day for the past two months with only a minuscule amount of rest in between them, he would run himself into the ground if he was not careful. Not that it mattered; in this place, his soul could not be destroyed. However, he'd rather not flirt with losing his sanity, something that would surely happen if he did not find a way to rest soon. Was that even possible? Could he find peaceful and blissful rest in Hell? Unlikely, it would take intervention from the gods to find that, and they had long forsaken him. No, there would be no help for him; he had to do this himself. He felt two familiar chis heading right towards him, he smirked, "Well, if it isn't the dwarf and the bio-engineered insectoid freak," he said to himself. "I wonder if I can even handle these clowns, not likely in the shape I'm in," a dark thought came afterwards. He removed his cape and turban and prepared himself for this battle. As he expected, Frieza, in his final form, and Cell, in his Perfect form, appeared before him, already blazing with fighting chi and throttling towards him to attack. Piccolo dodged the frontal take of a combined chi blast of the two, then sprang from the cliff he was on and landed a solid dragon kick (it's kind of like a jumping front kick for those of you who haven't had kung fu lessons) on the middle of Frieza's chest, sending the miniature tyrant careening backwards and slamming into an opposing rock face. Cell's pointed tail made a stab for the Namek's chest; Piccolo grabbed the leech's appendage and used it to toss him right into the monster's evil comrade and causing the mountain to collapse down upon them.

Piccolo winced as a muscle cramp racked through the arm he tossed Cell with, "Not good, I think I tore a the tendon, I need to end this, now." He put two fingers to his forehead, collected chi at a rate he'd never thought possible before he joined the hordes of the damned souls and fired his signature Special Beam Canon at the rubble, he was surprised and gasped as the veins that coursed with his chi blew up, rendering the arm useless and dripping with blood, "Argh, I've pushed my body too hard." He felt his opponents' chi disappear and saw their souls, almost shapeless masses of black swirls, drift off and squirm to the Pit, where their bodies would be reassembled and the soul reintegrated. Piccolo panted, literally drained of chi, "It's worse than I thought." One of the bad things about being very tolerant to pain and extremely stubborn against the outcries of his body was that he often found that things like this always snuck up on him because he had trained himself to ignore all the warning signs. "I need to go into hiding," he started to fly away from the scene, it was attracting the attention of other "fans" of his and he didn't feel like becoming target practice, however his chi sputtered and he crashed into the cliff he had meditated on, his legs gave out and he found himself on his back sprawled out and gasping for breath.

"It's no fun when they are all after you is it?" A familiar dark voice taunted, one very similar to Piccolo's own voice. Piccolo did his best to spring to his feet and glare at the green man, "Shut up old man, I didn't ask you did I?"

"Ha, no, I asked you." Daimao retorted.

Piccolo sneered, "Think you're funny? I could easily take you out, just as I did those two," he pointed to the two souls skittering away at a painstakingly slow pace.

Daimao let loose a spine-shivering cackle. Piccolo sensed Daimao transport behind him but his body could not adhere to his reflexes. Piccolo gasped as the wind was knocked out of him and his father's fist tore through his back, drilled through his rib cage and pierced his right lung. Daimao whispered into Piccolo's ear, "I could help you, I could demand the respect you deserve and we could rule, and you could take revenge on them, everyone of them."

Piccolo tried to laugh, but it was gargled from the fist in his lung, but he managed to rasp, "I don't need you to do anything old man, and I don't think your idea of ruling Hell and my idea of ruling Hell are the same, so if you would be so kind as to remove your arm I'll consider not ripping it from its socket."

"Hmph, big words, I'd like to see you act on it," his father dragged his fist downwards.

Piccolo clenched his teeth, a hiss escaping him, and then he swung his head backwards, smacking his unsuspecting sire in the face and stunning him. Piccolo pulled forward, grabbed Daimao's arm and made good of his threat, removing it from his back as well, and he threw it to the ground and spat on it, "Go back to your snug little throne in whatever forsaken hole it resides in," he began walking away, it took all he could not to stagger and fall on his face.

Behind him, Daimao released a vicious string of curse complete with foul language, and finished in an ominous tone, "You will join me Ma Junior, you can count on it," and with that, the Demon Lord left.

Piccolo collapsed again, the wounds from Buu, his own body's rebellion, and Daimao's added hand in the matter crashing down upon him. The bleak scenery blurred in front of him, "Crap, I don't want to go back to the Pit… huh, Nappa and Raditz are heading right for me, no doubt taking advantage of my weakness, urg, I can't even move anymore. Wait who is that? North Kai? No, it can't be…" Piccolo's world drifted and fading into varying colours until it was all darkness.

Ta-da, there we go, that's the intro, I hope it's intriguing. Please send me a review; I always love feedback from readers.

Elieare