There's no such thing as destiny.
There are only different choices.
Some choices are easy, some aren't.
Those are the really important ones,
the ones that defines us as people.
The next day was shopping day for Lyle, he was a little errand slave, meant to die every Friday and attend small tasks every other day of the week, including his nightly beatings as an outlet for Debris' drunken rage. Something disturbed his master, underneath the rough bruises and tough guy attitude, something ate away at her core; fury has no enemies. The same look from her eyes gleamed in Lyle's, the underlying evil and rage, just waiting to burst out. Clifftop had a street market, with an assortment of booths that sold various goods. In Lyle's short journey he had never witnessed anything so social, Clifftop was not just the home of the Freedom Fight, but it was the trade tycoon of the Capital Wasteland. Clifftop was an establishment a little too advanced for such a destroyed region.
He wanted to know the story behind Clifftop, so he set it as a personal objective to investigate. The list consisted of psycho, jet, whiskey, purified water, Salisbury steak and a pack of cigarettes. The first stop was the chem and alcohol stand, might as well get the dirty work done with. His green eyes examined the crates filled with bottles and syringes, the very thought of another needle made him cringe slightly. Some of these chems he never heard of before. His hand picked up a few to read the labels, Hydra, Turbo, trade goods were fancier in Clifftop too. "I'll have two doses of psycho three doses of jet, few bottles of whiskey, cigarettes and…a bottle of scotch." Lyle ordered. His taped fingers lifted up the bottle of scotch, turning around the bottle to observe the label, it was quality.
James loved scotch, he never liked to admit he liked alcohol, probably considered it a bad influence for Lyle; not that any of James' precautions mattered anymore. As much as he despised his father, the man was always on Lyle's mind weaved into his thoughts and reason. Perhaps he wouldn't be engraved into Lyle's brain if he had never damaged his son so deviously. It was easy to forget why it happened or what occurred, but he'd never forget how it made him feel and that was his strength. "I would like psycho as well." a loud raging voice sounded next to Lyle. The man looked over to see the giant green mutant next to him, they both had matching slave collars around their necks.
"Be careful my friend, this stuff is very addicting." Windlaw advised taking his small brown bag of chems. Lyle frowned slightly. "Why did you take my psycho?" it just seemed with all of Windlaw's responses to the drug, he didn't approve, yet he took it anyway? "My master is addicted, I took yours so that you won't reach the same fate." his dark beady eyes surveyed Lyle's figure. "I see you have already taken some." his voice was booming, Lyle heard his brain rattle from each syllable spoken. The green monster had a bigger heart than Lyle did and he was supposed to be the compassionate human. The storekeeper handed Lyle his giant bag of goods and he exchanged the caps. Windlaw stayed with Lyle, had he found another ally? It was odd because Lyle attracted the outcasts of society, he wasn't exactly part of the gang either.
He walked to the next vendor, choosing the bottles of water and the best steak he could find, most of it was choosing between the greater evil. Windlaw followed him without a word, Lyle decided he was going to start a conversation. "I came from Vault 101, maybe about a month ago." he informed, waiting to the giant's response. "It's very different being out in this Capital Wasteland." Lyle felt comfortable confiding in Windlaw, they both came from the same isolated place, maybe the giant a little bit unfortunate, but still similar circumstance. "Vault 101 is one of the few that stayed closed all these years." Windlaw stated, he seemed rather upset with this fact. "Some people are still underground, safe from all of the dangers in the world." Lyle had to agree, if he knew all of this were out here before he left, he would have never even considered it.
"What was your vault like Windlaw?" Lyle asked taking the other bag from the vendor, struggling to give him the caps, his hands were now full. "It's always been the same, I don't know what it was like before, well before this." he didn't have a better way to explain it. His vault was always a nest of mutated things that did terrible things to human beings. "What do you think the world was like before, this?" he inquired, he was really curious now. It was over two hundred years ago that all the vault doors shut for the first time, over that long period they opened back up, some stayed closed probably for a thousand years more. What made people so afraid, bombs obviously, but what was behind it?
"You ask too many questions my friend. Enjoy the knowledge you have, you may not like the answers you seek." Windlaw advised. Lyle knew that his father left Vault 101, but he didn't know why. Perhaps it was an omen, Windlaw unintentionally guided Lyle through the darkest days of his life. If slavery didn't stop him from pursuing James, what would? There weren't any limits and that's what frightened him, maybe that's what frightened Amata. Amata grew up with him, knew him since the day they were born. She probably knew all this time that there was a fire inside Lyle, burning brighter every year. An evil his own father ignored and unleashed. It was only fair, by nature that the creator be destroyed by the creation.
Actually killing James only crossed his mind once, but the more time he spent in an infecting world the more influenced that one idea became. Ideas never loss their meaning, words can eventually be erased and stories unheard, but ideas never died, because an idea exists intangibly, yet co-exists with reality. By the Overseer's hands or his, James was promised to die, all Lyle needed was a reason to pull the trigger early, just one reason. "I'm getting out of here Windlaw." Lyle announced blandly. The mutant laughed harshly. "How do you suppose that young one, not with that collar around your neck."
"I'm going to win Freedom Fight for Debris and then demand my freedom." he claimed. His experience verses his success, his chances of winning was very slim. Windlaw didn't mock Lyle's ambition by laughing harshly, but his silence offended him a little. Lyle's stubbornness, a wonderful trait fro his mother, caused him to think unclearly when he set his heart on something. All he knew was what he wanted and there wasn't any detours off his narrow minded road. Windlaw saw right through Lyle "Is there something you need to do?" he questioned, his voice loudly announced their conversation to the public, despite the fact he attempted to whisper. He didn't want to get into the details, but Lyle just gave him a nod for an answer.
"Well, my friend, I wish you the best of luck." Windlaw said walking off into the crowd of people. Lyle could still see his green bald head peak several feet above the normal public's line of sight. He went his opposite way to take his newly bought goods home. Once he walked through the door Debris demanded her share of supplies. Lyle gave her the bag and she snatched it from his grasp. He watched a she poked through taking the psycho out, implying it was his. She desired the neat bag, she was too lazy to take it all out and organize it, though it was doubtful all that stuff would last two days. Her fingers wrapped around the neck of the scotch bottle and she slowly took it out of the bag.
"You spent my caps on scotch?" she asked, her tone was rather repulsive. Lyle was already holding out her small leather caps bag, his green eyes looking rather pleadingly at her. She gently set the bottle down on the table next to the worn couch, at least she didn't throw it against the wall. He prepared his nerves as she stood up, leaving the bag on the cushion as she approached him, swiping the bag from his fingers. Her expression emitted displeasure in his actions and he knew that called for a beating. She reached into her back pocket and gingerly pulled out a set of brass knuckles. Lyle winced at the sight of the metal, he could already feel his body welt with bruises.
"Never spend my caps on your shit! You need to know these things!" she yelled loudly, nothing compared to the 'normal' volume of Windlaw's voice. She brought her fist back, clutching the knuckles. You need to know these things.
I'm not going to be around to hold your hand forever.
It was like he could hear his father's voice in his head instead of Debris' screams. Lyle's green eyes shifted to look at the fist slowly moving towards his face, his mind was reacting. He could hear his own voice in his head: Are you sick or something? Or perhaps going away? His fingers wrapped tightly around her thin wrist. He stepped beside her, using his free hand to push her back. She went face first into the door, her cheek pressing against the wood panel. Taking her arm with his free hand, he pinned her to the door.
No.
"Now you listen to me!" he demanded taking her arm and twisting it behind her back, painful enough, but nothing that could break. She breathed heavily with her pressured lungs, attempting to spit with disrespect, but ended up salivating on the door. "I'm going to go to Freedom Fight tomorrow, I am going to win and we're going to do it the traditional way. I get my freedom and you get your god damn caps!" he roared back. "And keep your mother fucking hands off of me!" his grip on her arm tightened and she yelped from the sharp pain in her shoulder. He let her go within an instant and back away from the door. The conversation wasn't going to continue as he took the psycho and scotch, disappearing into his closet. Debris rubbed her fingers over her wrists, working out the strain in her shoulder to sooth the pain.
"I want to change the rules today." Debris demanded dropping a heavy bag of caps into the desk of the Freedom Fight manager. The man looked at the money bag then at her. "Debris you know better than that, I can't cha-" he was cut off as Debris interrupted. "You owe me this, Aaron. It isn't to win." she insisted. His brow arched with curiosity. "Debris trying to bribe me and her catch isn't winning? Intriguing." he spoke with awe as he took the money bag. "You have my attention, Enlighten me." his voice spoke with such elegance, it was astonishing that he was considered a raider. He neatly folded his hands under his chin as he gave her his full undivided attention.
"My slave attacked me last night. He claimed he's going to win, I get the caps he gets freedom." she explained. "And you don't want him to win." Aaron attempted to solve her goal. "Don't be a moron! Of course I want him to win, but I'm going to make him bleed for it." she growled. Aaron could sense a grudge looming over this transaction, but he was enthralled with the idea, more entertainment and he was all about appeasing the audience. "So what is it you desire?" he asked. Debris slammed her palms down on the desk, leaning towards Aaron's face. "I want a blind-cell match, owner motivation and I want it rigged so he has to fight…." her eyes briefly looked down at the contenders diagram on Aaron's desk. She spotted the meanest looking photo on the chart and stabbed her index on the picture. "Him."
The cell Debris brought him to was very different than the first. It had solid metal walls that blocked all light, it was so dark he couldn't see his own hands. His hand trembled as he felt the walls, attempting to find a window or door, but the shadow blinded him. He felt like he was cooking alive in there it was so hot, but that was the least of his worries. Confinement in seclusion do things to a human being's mind. Debris wanted to make Lyle suffer, the blind cell had more than just darkness and confinement. The blind cell was invented to put the contenders into a berserk-like state before being released onto the field, it enhanced entertainment, but also put the audience and the owner in danger, so the blind cell was taken out of service.
The design of it was to drive sane man mad and a mad man sane. An electrical current sounded in the dark, like it was slithering with metal scales along the wall. He looked around wildly, but he couldn't locate it or see any light. Over Here. James' voice sounded right beside him and he spun around to look, but there was no one there. "James!" Lyle yelled out, his voice bouncing around the strange room. He disowned the title father completely when referring to James, it was insulting to be formal. I'm not going to be around forever. You need to know these things. I'm very disappointed in you. How could you do such a thing? James' voice filled the room, overlapping statements, like a choir sang. Not only did they speak over each other, they came from different corners of the room, various volumes and tones.
Lyle placed his hands over his head, attempting to cover his ears from the voices, but they still bled through his flesh. He grit his teeth trying to mute the words whispering from the shadow. Lyle, you need to get out of here. A woman sulked within the sea of James' voice. He removed his palms, curling his fingers into fists as he looked around, still not being able to see. That voice, he knew it. All the other statements lowered to mere whispers as his mind focused on locating the one woman. Promise me you'll come back. Her voice sounded again. "Amata?" Lyle questioned loudly. The commotion ceased as the ceiling broke apart, light poured in, illuminating the cell. It was just another metal square, like the cell he was in last round. There weren't even speakers or people, it was all in his head.
The mystery to the electrical noise was solve instantly as the room unfolded to reveal Debris holding a metal rod sparking with live current at the sharp tip. He had to fight her? This was definitely a different round. She jabbed the spear at him, shocking him off the platform. Lyle couldn't be fighting her, it wouldn't make any sense, she'd die from the Iron Maiden, which she tossed at his feet. Slowly he picked it up, placing it over his hand, keeping his eyes on her. Something seemed rather sinister about this fight, she had to be behind it. Where are you going? Turn Around. Over Here. He could still hear James, he didn't understand why he could actually hear his father speaking, when he clearly wasn't there.
Lyle kept looking around as though they were really there. The crowd roared with excitement, observing that he was a little tweaked. The other brown metal cage began to bloom open, exposing the large green giant he befriended during his stay in Clifftop. What in God's name is wrong with you! Stop screwing around! again James' voice fluttered through Lyle's ears. Windlaw was released and given a large rectangular shield, by his owner, who was equipped with a spark rod as well. It wasn't some sort of sick joke, Debris really wanted to see pain. In order to win he had to kill Windlaw, which wasn't something he wanted to do. His lips parted as his eyes settled on the mutant, he could tell Windlaw was feeling the same way.
His side numbed as Debris poked him with the rod, sending a small volt through his body. Kill them. James' voice commanded. Since when would James ever ask Lyle to kill people? Something was wrong with that room he was in, terribly wrong and it still germinated in Lyle's brain. He wasn't going to fight, he wasn't going to kill either. His green eyes focused on Windlaw who was approaching him slowly with his shield. "I'm not fighting you." he told the giant, taking off his glove and throwing it onto the ground. His gaze lowered to the dirt floor, he could still hear Windlaw approaching, but he couldn't bare to watch his possible fate.
"You are going to get out of here." Windlaw announced in his loud booming voice. The giant turned around to his owner and smashed the shield onto his body, crushing his master before everyone's eyes. The audience gasped with shock at the morbid terror. Debris yelled "No!" she stabbed the edge into Lyle's rib cage, sending live droplets of blood over the floor. Windlaw pivoted from his crushed master and bashed both of his fists onto the ground, shaking it so Debris lost her balance and fell onto her back. Lyle as well stumbled, but the loose end of the rod hit the ground, piercing his flesh under his ribs. He sent a yelp of pain out of his lungs. The crowd roared with enthusiasm, enjoying the twist to this match.
"He is my slave!" she cried, before she could get up Windlaw was already standing above her with his shield raised, about to smash her like his owner. She brought her arms over her face, attempting to guard herself from her doom, but Windlaw slammed the metal rectangle down. Debris thought she was going to die, but she opened her dark eyes to see her forearms over her face. She wasn't dead, yet. A light thud of an empty psycho syringe dropped next to her head. Terrified, she dared to remove her arms from her line of sight. Her ghastly expression changed to shock as her pink lips gaped open. "Why would you?" she managed to whisper, her voice trembling with fear.
Her dark eyes examined Lyle standing over her, with his back supporting his arm's struggle to hold up the shield. His face distorted with intensive aggravation as his muscles began to burn and his back sent waves of pain throughout his entire body. A stream of blood began to drip from the corner of his mouth, sputtering down his chin when he coughed, losing all the air in his lungs. He prevented her death, even though it would have been easier on his own life to take hers away. Aaron pushed through the frenzied crowd, reaching the edge of the spectator's rail. "Take everyone out of there, NOW." He ordered security as they moved quickly.
Lyle sat behind Aaron's desk, watching the man sign papers with caps distribution for the fight's gamblers. He occasionally looked up at Lyle for brief moments before continuing his work. Finally, after a long strained silence Aaron spoke. "You're unique Lyle, probably one of the most original individual I've seen pass through this competition. You have the patience of a lion, waiting to catch its prey, cunning, strength and bravery." he let go of the pencil, letting it roll over the earnings clipboard on his desk. "You had a chance for freedom through death and you denied it, yet you're violent enough to attack your owner outside the ring?" he shook his head slightly, he couldn't even fathom Lyle's method of thinking.
"You've even sustained Malleus' experiment." his fingers toyed with a globe set on his desk, his eyes glued on Lyle's face. There was no response from the slave, ever since the incident in the ring, he fell into silence and his green eyes stared into space. Son, I brought you into this world, I think you know the rest. He could still hear the voices in his head, but they were lower, slowly decreasing to muffled tones. Aaron folded his arms over the desk and leaned into his hands. "You're not the only one who came from a Vault, Lyle." The boy shifted his eyes to look at the corner of the man's desk. "A lot of the founders of Clifftop were from the nearby Vault 92. Throw in a little bit of banned raiders from the Mojave that came with the Brotherhood and you had the city we now reside in. It didn't take a genius to make this society, it took a leader."
He moved his body comfortably towards the back of his chair. "Vault 92 was crumbling, many of the residents had to escape the crazed, brainwashed citizens. Using, white noise to deliver subliminal messaging to a few select individuals. The Overseer desired to create a super soldier, evil, grew. Few made it out, locking the Vault door behind them, letting the rest kill themselves. Years after the establishment of Clifftop, a trade agreement was settled with the scum from The Pitt. It was a beautiful source of many and slaves, but most of all, with them they brought the first concept of Freedom Fight. Just slaves competed for their freedom, the winning slave got to walk home free. I became the devil and suggested that the rules be changed, it was for the blood and the gamble, like a sport to watch more than a meaningful battle."
His fingers gently smoothed over a sack of caps beside his chair, he seemed rather pleased with his riches. "When the stadium was first built, by people before me. They wanted something that would enhance the results, they wanted freedom really worth killing for. In Vault 92, Proffessor Malleus was the man who researched white noise. Imagine the capabilities of a ruler when he had so much power over his subjects with subliminal messaging! Every cell we had was a 'blind cell', delivering messages of slaughter and torture to the competitors. The white noise triggered something else, as though it sparked delusions and hearing voices. Malleus described side effects as Schizophrenia, hence why the blind cells were disbanded."
Lyle didn't respond, he kept looking at the corner. "The voices inside your head won't last long Lyle. You weren't exposed long enough for any permanent damage." Aaron explained. "The reason I've called you here and told you about the founders of Clifftop is because they changed the world for a lot of people in the Wasteland." he opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a small silver key. "If I let Debris keep you in slavery, I may be signing away a man who will bring change." he got up and walked around, placing the key in the collar at the back of Lyle's neck. "I have accurate feelings Lyle and my gut is telling me that I should let you go." he turned the key and the collar snapped off.
Joseph stood up from the large wooden desk, gently smiling at the few of his staff that chose to stay out of a vault. "Ladies and Gentlemen." he addressed his company. "It's been an honor attending America's needs in this office with you for the last three years. I am proud to spend my ending moments with you as the last President of the United States." he closed his mouth and smiled briefly. All of them were breathing shallow, their heart beating slowly. As the walls elapsed with fire, thirteen screams sounded shortly, then darkness shattered the symbol of leadership.
