El Carnicero Tranquilo
This story exists, all thanks to Anknonymous. She has been an amazing editor and beta reader, willing to put up with all of my nonsense and trying to improve my work. She has infinite patience and such an amazing work ethic, cause she always is trying to help me improve as a writer. I owe her my eternal thanks and I don't think I'll ever be able to repay her. Thanks Anknonymous, you're an absolute trooper!
I do not own Fallout 4, that belongs to Bethesda
Sully Mathis looked up at the starry sky, a wide grin spreading across his scarred face. Not everything had gone according to plan and they suffered a lot of setbacks, mostly at the hands of those fucking Minutemen and their bitch leader, but now they were back on track. Sully managed to drain Thicket Excavations and rounded up the mirelurks, giving his crew a permanent location to rest for once.
They'll stick around to gather up more guns and bodies, then commence the second phase of the plan: attack Sanctuary Hills.
Plenty of traders and merchants wandered over to that place, which meant only one thing: the place was loaded with caps. As Sully leaned back in his stained chair, beer in one hand and gun in the other, the boss couldn't help but feel proud of himself. Nothing could get in the way of his plans now.
"Boss, we got a situation." A gruff voice stated.
Well, there went the good mood for Sully. He looked up at the idiot who interrupted him; with long blue hair and giant buggy-eyes, it was hard to mistake Syman for anyone else. The young raider had a worried look plastered all over his greasy complexion; one look, and it was easy to tell exactly what was going on in his mind.
Things better not be going to shit again.
"What's up, runt?" Sully asked. "Did Konnan threaten to feed ya to the mirelurks or something?"
"They're gone, boss." Syman answered grimly. "Konnan, Amber, Mantaur, CJ… They're all gone."
Yep. Things are going to shit again.
"The fuck you talking about?" Sully demanded with a scowl, getting up from his chair. "Fucking gone? You been hitting up the chems again or something?"
"No boss, I'm fucking clean." Syman responded. "But I've tried contacting the rest of the crew, and no-one's responding. I-I think… Boss, I think someone else is here."
Sully restrained a groan as he glared daggers at the jittery idiot. There was no fucking way anyone knew about this place, given they had just set up camp properly today. But before Sully ripped the kid a new one, he noticed something: the floodlights. They were supposed to light up the walkway down to the excavation site, but none of them were on. It was pitch black except for the floodlights scattered where the mirelurks, Sully and Syman were.
"Syman… I think you're right." Sully stated slowly, tossing his beer bottle aside. "Go find the rest of the gang and have them meet me here. We ain't letting no fucking sneak take down our operations."
The blue-haired raider nodded nervously, turning for the mirelurk cages where a few other raiders lounged around. As Syman was sprinting, Sully noticed something that seemed to be warping and bending the air itself. The pieces of the puzzle connected in his head.
'Stealth Boy!' Sully thought, taking aim at the shimmering air with his gun.
Before he fired, darkness enveloped the entire site. Curses flowed from his mouth; all he could see now was murky darkness. Screams echoed before they were silenced. The hairs on his nape stood as he listened to shrieks of mercy go ignored. Sully didn't need to be a fucking egghead to figure out all his plans were fucked now.
"Fuck this." Sully muttered, worry and fear snaking around his throat. "I'm gettin' the hell outta dodge."
He ran through the darkness, trying to find the fucking walkway outta here. He needed to get outta this place and needed to get outta here now.
There wasn't any sound except for the chittering of the mirelurks. He knew he was completely alone, trapped down here with nothing but terror keeping him company. Where the fuck was he supposed to go? This wasn't going to be the place where he'd meet his end. He refused it.
Suddenly, all the floodlights lit up on the bottom floor, blinding him; intense pain flooded his body soon after, a knife ripping and twisting into his torso. Sully stumbled backwards, his gun slipping from his grasp as he collapsed to the ground. He tried to scramble away, applying pressure to his wound in a pathetic effort to stop the bleeding.
A foot pressed against his neck.
Standing above him was the mysterious fucker who had destroyed everything Sully painstakingly cobbled together. A woman, presumably so by the dress; a tight black piece that stopped at her ankles, and the sleeves reached her wrists. The outfit seemed to be both constricting yet loose at the same time, something that was fucking with Sully's mind. A wide-brimmed black hat rested upon her head like a crown, and raven hair flowed all the way to her shoulder blades. In her hand was a pistol, aimed straight at Sully's face. But that wasn't the thing that scared him, not by a long shot.
It was her fucking mask.
The mask reflected lights, making it glow. It's colour a pale white, a rarity in the wastelands. The mask's lips and eyes were a dark blue, with blue flowers and vines painted on the left side of the mask. Meticulous details showed significant time and effort had been taken into creating this mask. It disgusted him; this freak was his Grim Reaper.
"What…what the fuck are ya!?" Sully demanded, struggling to stay conscious.
"The end." The woman stated simply, pulling the trigger.
A jumpsuit isn't exactly the most comfortable thing to wear on an arid day in the unforgiving waste, especially with how hot today was. The sun seemed to be exceptionally hot today, but Catalina Perez didn't really mind the heat. She slicked a dirty hand through her short blonde hair, staining the freshly bleached dye with bits of soil. The Sole Survivor always handled the heat well even when she was a little girl, preferring the swelter over the winter.
If only crops could handle the temperature like she did; the slightest warmth, and those fuckers were wilting and dying within seconds. Crops that have mutated due to radiation exposure should be tougher than this, but she wasn't surprised. After all, when has life every been easy?
'Just like what madre said,' Catalina thought with a scowl. 'Easy work is a lie created by lazy pendejos.'
No such thing as easy work in this world. Not anymore. If someone wanted caps, food or water, then they had to get their hands dirty; whether it be a toil in the soil, travelling across the wastes as a trader, or killing people as a mercenary, no one could get anything from the wastelands without having to give something in return.
Catalina wasn't an exception to that rule; the wasteland never seemed interested in giving. Just taking. It took her husband, her child, her world, her blood, sweat, tears… She gave everything she could give, and the wasteland still hungered for more.
Well she was done giving, she wanted to take now. After everything she was forced to sacrifice, it was time to be selfish.
"Hey boss, got a visitor for you." A gruff voice stated.
A flurry of curse words escaped Catalina's lips, derailing her train of thought. That sneaky comadreja! She wiped the dirt on her jumpsuit as she turned around, staring at Gage's smug grin. He got a kick out of startling her, didn't he?
It's almost funny how their relationship has evolved. At first, she couldn't stand the one-eyed fucker; found him to be too much of a limp-dicked weasel who enjoyed manipulating people. But times have changed and Catalina's attitude towards Gage has definitely changed, especially since he helped her out in taking down the Nuka Raiders. She hated to admit it but…that comadreja grew on her.
"What's up, Gage?" Isabelle inquired. "Mackenzie needs some supplies or something?"
"Actually I was just hoping to talk, Catalina." A new voice stated. "Or should I say, Agent Feugo?"
And with that voice, Catalina was already tempted to whip her gun out from her side holster and start shooting. Coming out from the distance, was a woman that the Vault 111 native had hoped never to see again; Eloise 'Doc' Montgomery, Railroad agent and former Lone Wanderer.
"Everythin' okay, boss?" Gage inquired, hand resting over his gun.
"Everything is okay, comadreja." The Sole Survivor answered. "But this is some business I need to attend to alone. Go and find Codsworth, I'm sure he has some work that he needs help with."
Porter Gage stood and stared silently for a few seconds, then grunted and walked off. Catalina didn't really notice. She was too busy with the woman in front of her. Eloise was decked out in jeans and a leather jacket, a worn sniper rifle strapped to her back. She looked exactly the same as when Catalina had last seen her, except for one major detail: the armor on Eloise's left arm looked different. The metal appeared sleeker and sturdier, as if the old one was destroyed to start entirely anew.
"Well well well," a strained smile tugged Catalina's lips. "Nice to see you again Doc." She jerked her chin to the armored arm. "Got an upgrade?"
"Yes, I did. That Nakano girl decided to gift me a new one." Eloise shrugged. "It's taking a while to…adjust to it. It's more responsive than the old arm; more fragile too, though."
"Kudos to you then." Catalina responded. "But I doubt you came here just to brag; you want something."
"Down to business already?" Eloise inquired, eyebrow raised. "That's new for you."
"Lotta things changed after I blew up the Institute and the Prydwen." Catalina retorted, a cold edge to her voice. "Just tell me what you want."
"It's not what I want, it's what everyone else wants." The Lone Wanderer answered. "The L&L Gang are terrorizing the Commonwealth, kidnapping and torturing synths just because they can. Desdemona needs one of her best agents for this task."
"You or Deacon can do it." Catalina stated brusquely. "Dez knows I'm done with the Railroad."
"But you were the one that tipped the scales in our favour during the war." Eloise argued. "Without you, the Institute and the Brotherhood would still be running amok."
"And Glory might still be alive, insteada bein' fucking gunned down by Brotherhood perros." Catalina snapped. "Or Hancock, or Longfellow, or X6, or my own fucking son… None of them would be dead if I didn't get involved. I told Desdemona I was done, and now she has the cajones to try and bring me back? Fuck her, and fuck your Railroad."
Silence fell between the two woman, staring holes into each other. A schism existed between these two, burning the bridge between them. It had always been there ever since they met, and grew whenever they were forced to interact. Catalina doubted the bridge would ever be repaired, and honestly? She found it kinda funny. In another world, maybe the two could've been friends. But that was not possible, at least not now; too much bad blood flowed under that bridge.
"Casualties happen, Agent Fuego." Eloise stated indifferently, brushing off Catalina's hostility. "You know me and my history, and you know what I've sacrificed. I lost my home, my family, my love, my friends, all for Project Purity. I have sacrificed so much in my life, but I'm still willing to sacrifice. 'Cause I still have hope, as crazy as that sounds. I have hope for a better future, one where synths and humans can live together in harmony, where raiders no longer exist and people do not have to live in constant fear of dying. That hope is the only reason I haven't fucking killed myself yet."
"Well my hope is dead, like the world I grew up in." Catalina scoffed. "All I'm trying to do now is live my life in peace. After all I've lost, you don't think I deserve something?"
Silence hung in the air, and every second grated her nerves.
"…I can see coming here was a waste of time." Eloise's posture slumped, but nodded in understanding. "I'll tell Desdemona to stop bothering you then."
"Glad you've seen some sense, Doc." The Sole Survivor muttered, turning around. She needed a stiff drink or she was going to shoot someone. Her patience was strained thin, and worse yet, it's tested one last time.
"Just one question before I leave. Have you ever heard of 'The Quiet Butcher'?"
A savage smile danced on Catalina's lips.
"El Carnicero Tranquilo? Just been hearing stories, nothing concrete though." Catalina admitted. "Whispers of a woman in black who hides in the shadows, who attacks raiders and shit under the cover of night. She leaves no survivors or trace, except for all the bloody corpses of her victims."
"Not just Raiders, Agent Feugo." Eloise responded. "Slavers, Gunners, Super Mutants, L&L Gang members...basically anyone that the Minutemen or Railroad have had problems with. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
"You kidding me, right? Haven't even stepped foot into the Commonwealth since I came here." Catalina answered, eyebrow raised. "And I know for a fact that this bruja hasn't stepped foot into Nuka World, since Mackenzie, Gage and I have been the only ones who've been cleaning shit up. I find it funny Doc, that a woman of logic and shit like that would be asking about ghost stories."
"The Minutemen have discovered at least three locations, all with the same modus operandi and killing style, with the most recent one being a week ago at Thickets Excavation. The stories may be exaggerated, but there's definitely a 'Quiet Butcher' going around." The Lone Wanderer stated simply. "All the Railroad wants to know is if this mysterious killer is friendly or not. This 'Quiet Butcher'...might prove to be a valuable ally."
"Or she might be bumping off her competition, so she's the only Raider boss in town." Catalina stated with a shrug. "Anyway Doc, time for me to head off. Been working on these crops all day and I've earned myself a bit of a siesta; might head over to the Nuka Cade, play some games there. So I say 'vete' and don't get bit by the crickets, they're venomous."
Footsteps filled the air, as the two women parted ways. Not that the Sole Survivor particularly cared; that icy bitch could've stripped naked and painted her nipples green, and Catalina wouldn't have given a flying shit. Cause right now there was only one thing on her mind, and that was the trunk underneath the bed.
"Fucking nosey people…" Catalina muttered.
The Vault 111 native laid on her bed, her trunk's lid wide open and its contents scattered all in front of her. The Deliverer, the knives, the dress and the mask…all in front of her. And that fucking mask, staring at her with those empty eyes, the white skin practically glowing from the sunlight.
She didn't know how it started, this whole 'El Carnicero Tranquilo' thing. It started with a dream though…or was it a nightmare? All she knew was that they started after the fall of the Prydwen, where she tossed Elder Maxson off of the Prydwen's deck. The dream was of a woman, a woman in a long black dress and a mask. She would stare at Catalina before producing a silvery-blue gun, and aiming straight at Catalina.
The dreams just kept coming, with Catalina sleeping less and less, until she finally snapped. Some part of her brain just stopped working, and she entered some kind of sleep-deprived trance. And before the Sole Survivor knew it, she had the Mechanist and ADA constructing a Stealth Suit and she herself was crafting the mask.
It wasn't normal, that much she knew; normal people didn't go out dressed in fucking costumes and killing bad guys like some kind of vigilante. But then again, when was she ever normal?
"Everything okay, boss?" A gruff voice inquired
That sneaky comradeja, always popping up and surprising her. If it was anyone else she'd have shot them by now, but that Gage…he was a whole different beast altogether. She tolerated his attitude, if only in short bursts.
"The Railroad is getting smart about El Carnicero Tranquilo, a lot quicker than I thought they would." Catalina muttered. "Should've known, given that Doc and Deacon are there."
"Well boss…might be a good idea to take a break then." Gage stated. "Take a few weeks off, let the stories cool down a bit. You don't need this heat on yourself, you've told me as much."
"I was thinking about that, Gage." The Sole Survivor admitted. "But…I don't think I could do it. It's selfish, but I don't think I can give it up now."
Silence hung in the air, as Catalina cradled her mask in her hands. There was no need to ask why she couldn't give it up, that was a question Gage already knew the answer to. Dressing up like some costumed freak and killing raiders, it helped Catalina more than any Chem or doctor ever could.
It helped her sleep, pushing away all the nightmares. Nightmares of Father calling her a failure, Nate freezing to death in his pod, Glory being gunned down by Brotherhood fuckers, young Shaun…that sweet angel Shaun, being left behind as the whole fucking Institute was exploding around them. Those nightmares stopped because of El Carnicero Tranquilo, and Catalina was too weak to give that up.
The mask was gently pulled from her hands, shaking Catalina from her thoughts. The bed creaked and groaned like an old woman as Gage sat next to her, his large calloused hands enveloping her shaking hands.
Wait, shaking?
She didn't wanna believe it, but the proof was there; her hands were shaking and her heart was smashing against her chest. Was she scared? Fuck, this was new. She hadn't felt like this since…well since she left Vault 111 and found out what the fuck had happened to the rest of the world.
"You think too much, Cat." Gage stated. "I like that about you, most people I know are only interested in getting to the next pay day or next hit of Jet. But you? You're always thinking, planning and strategizing. But right now…that thinking is doing ya over badly. Let's just try and relax for today, then we can start worrying about this shit tomorrow. Not like we're on a fucking timer or anythin', right?"
"For a Raider, you're pretty smart Gage." Catalina admitted, a smile on her face.
"And handsome." Gage retorted.
Catalina had to grin at that, as she leaned forward and kissed Gage on the cheek. "Well…let's not get ahead of ourselves. But let's have some fun; we can worry about El Carnicero Tranquilo tomorrow."
"What kinda fun do ya have in mind?" Gage asked, his hands wrapping around Catalina's waist.
"Oh you'll find out soon enough, my lovely comradeja." The Sole Survivor whispered into Gage's ear. "But you'll definitely enjoy it."
And El Carnicero Tranquilo is done and dusted! I'd like to give a huge thank you once again to Anknownymous for all she has done for me. I'd also like to thank Alexeij and Jacob Sailer for their support and feedback. Anyway, I hope to see you folks at my next story!
Love,
The Desert Dancer