The Vault
She couldn't remember much about her life before she came into the Wasteland.
As far as she was concerned she was always Rip Van Winkle, and she was always a displaced child of the Wastes.
She had some vague memory of living in a Vault similar to Vault 106, though she was never sure if it was a memory or a drug-induced dream.
When she had first arrived in Vault 106 a few years ago, still not even eighteen at the time, she kept seeing a dark-haired man in a lab coat walking through the tunnels.
There was a part of her that said this man was familiar to to her, even a part of her mind that said this was her father. And like Alice following the White Rabbit she followed him and ventured further down.
But towards the bottom of the Vault this man with the tangled mess of black hair had transformed into a monster. A hideous inhuman creature that looked like a chimera made up of a human and a prehistoric animal. It still had the black hair nearly concealing its face like a veil, and it looked at her with a wicked grin like it was about to bite her head off and rip her torso open with its massive clawed hands.
She froze in fear. It looked like something that crawled out of the depths of Hell itself.
It lunged and swung at her as she braced herself for the worst, but instead of getting sliced open she was struck by a blunt object. Sounded like a pipe, but it still hurt.
She opened her eyes to see it was actually a person. A local Vault Dweller.
He prepared to take another swing at her with his lead pipe but she backed away, reached for her hunting rifle, and shot at his head.
She was met by more of them, just as insane and homicidal. It was like being beset by a pack of mad dogs; the only way to live was to kill them first.
After they were dealt with and things had calmed down she discovered the office and the old computer of the former Overseer of this Vault. Apparently hallucinogenic drugs had been released through the filtration system here as part of some kind of experiment. She felt a little bad for the Vault Dwellers she had just slain, since that was probably why they had gone mad. And that certainly explained how she saw the man in the lab coat transforming into a hideous monster.
She ventured further and further down to see if they had any supplies she could take with her and leave, like maybe the medical facilities had some blood packs she could use, but she continually received visions. This Vault was old and rusted, but she kept seeing images of a Vault pristine and clean, with functioning fluorescent lighting and all. And it evoked a strange feeling of nostalgia.
It was like walking through a dream of a memory. Was it ever real or was it a creation of her subconscious?
But then she heard an alarm blaring, and panic set in.
Guards came in from another room and shouted, "There she is!"
Normally this would be where she reached for her firearm to fight off her attackers, but this time she was running away. And it occurred to her that the guards seemed taller than usual. Had she just become shorter?
As she was running up a nearby stairwell she grabbed the railing as if holding on for dear life and shut her eyes tight. She caught her breath and made herself wake up. When she opened her eyes again she found herself in the old rusted Vault again. She was relieved, but she knew that feeling of helplessness and panic.
That ungodly screech of a Vault door being opened (or was it being closed shut?) was the first thing she could consciously remember.
The second thing she remembered was a near-blinding light as she found herself in the Wasteland, as if the earth itself had just given birth to her.
Rip Van Winkle. That was the first name that came to mind. The story about a man who had slept for twenty years. She herself had to be no more than twelve, so she figured that name suited her in that situation.
No memory of who she was or how she came to be there.
All she knew was she was just a kid, with no means of protection aside from a BB gun. She wasn't dressed for exploring the Wasteland either. A white blouse with a lavender sweater, a navy blue skirt that went past her knees, some socks and saddle shoes; it made her look like she just came from a sock hop that had to be interrupted for some kind of emergency escape.
(She hoped that was the case, otherwise it would just be incredibly stupid to venture out into the wastes with little to no means of preparation.)
Although she quickly discovered that she at least had a Pip Boy, a wrist-mounted device that allowed her to access the radio, record a map or take inventory of her supplies.
And as of this point she had very little in terms of food and medical supplies.
She looked at her map and there was information about where she was. Apparently she stood at the entrance for Vault 101. She considered turning around and asking its inhabitants questions, but something urged her to stay away from there, that nothing but life-threatening danger awaited her inside.
There was nowhere to move but forward, so she strapped her BB gun to her back and made her way down the dirt hill, looking less like a soldier and more like a child wandering an abandoned playground.
Curiously, she found herself humming the tune to Happy Birthday, and it made her sad.