Disclaimer
This story
contains a potentially lethal combination of violence, foul language,
angst, ghoul porn, cheese and fluff. If you take exception to any of
these things, just don't read the thing.
Fun fact:
This is my very first fanfic.
I Don't Want To Set The World On
Fire.
by A.G.F aka. MorphiaSurgery
-1-
The day I happened upon the Underground
I was above all trying to avoid becoming a red stain on the pavement.
I was dragging my carcass along a wall, frantically searching for an
out,
because playing a game of hide and seek with missile launcher
wielding super mutants is a lot less fun than it sounds no matter
what they'll tell you.
The corners of my vision blackened and
vibrated as my hearing faded into discord registering nothing but an
internal high pitched whine and the distant bellows of the muties as
they searched for me to finish the job. I stumbled blindly towards
what I could barely make out as a doorway a few yards beyond the wall
I was hugging for dear life.
Like an idiot, I had a pack
full of stolen miscellanea but no stimpacks (or psycho or jet for
that matter) and traipsing around The Wastes, withdrawing from
dope(s) with a blinding head injury and a gibbled leg as stupid and
suicidal as taking on a Behemoth with a pair of brass knuckles.
Which
is to say, pretty fucking stupid.
The muties faded into little jaundice
colored blobs across the trenches as
I staggered past some woman
ignoring her as she talked at me in a raspy voice.
Now was not the time for introductions
or manners. I ducked into the blurry shape of a door, on a hunch that
the humanoid guard outside not attacking me may mean shelter and
stimpacks inside. It was worth a try. It was either what was behind
door number one or back to let the Super Mutants stuff me into a gore
sack. I limped to the door, leaned on it and opened it, cringing at
the squeak it uttered.
Inside, nothing but cavernous silence
bouncing off stately marble.
I noiselessly padded forward as well
as I could on my injured leg and looked up in awe as the remains of
monsters from picture books and a huge skull carved of stone greeting
me before my vision started to shift downwards before sliding into
blackness like a mirelurk returning to the depths.
I tried to will myself to get up as the sound of soft, scratchy voices drew closer.
"God I hope they're not cannibals" was the last thing I remembered thinking before succumbing to unconsciousness. Despite what some uneducated people think of ghouls, most of them aren't cannibals and luckily these ones weren't as far as I knew.
I woke up to a faint and sickly sweet
odor akin to rotting flesh and rubbing alcohol.
Long story short I
owe Dr. Barrows and the inhabitants of the Underworld my very life,
so anyone who badmouths them can stick a frag grenade up their ass
and pull out the pin if I don't do it to them first. I'm not just
saying that either.
On the advice of Dr. Barrows I spent an indulgent week in a cot healing, chatting with Nurse Graves and reading the stack of comics I had thankfully stashed in my rucksack. I also met a woman named Reilly there but that's another story.
When I was more or less well, I
recollected my gear, paid the Doctor a generous amount of caps and
toddled off to have a look around the Underground and undo all of Dr.
Barrow's good work by getting me something to drink, smoke, snort,
pop and/or inject.
Not that I'm an addict or anything. I just do
enough to get by and keep things interesting.
I systematically searched the place starting with the first floor, met a bunch of damn decent ghouls and a rancorous robot who I intentionally avoided. I've dealt with more robots than you can shake a stick at and I'll just never completely trust 'em because of that they're all just a combat inhibitor doo- hickey away from becoming killing machines and that just doesn't help me relax any.
I ventured upstairs and shot the
shit with a ghoul called Snowflake who was nice enough to spruce me
up with a new haircut, up me a huff of jet and even dish a little
good gossip.
When I find a new city I like to save the bar for
last because I inevitably send up sticking around in the bar and this
time was no exception but it does mark the beginning of the end.
Not a moment later I entered The 9th Circle and I felt him even before I saw him.
