Note: Jericho ending; I call this the "bad" ending because oh my god. Seriously. I should be shot for writing this. If you want to read the Charon ending (two parter), skip to Chapter 17; for Gallows' ending skip to Chapter 19 (not a very good ending). Warning: Extremely violent and bad, rape and terrible things. You are warned.
The trip back to Megaton was boring. Emily and Charon arrived without much fanfare, though she thought she saw Jericho up on the catwalk with Stockholm before the gates opened. He disappeared into town before she could tell.
She was looking forward to sleeping in her own bed. A few months of roughing it out in the wastes wasn't so bad, but she hadn't had a proper bath for as long. She was feeling very... gritty. Wading in the river only did so much.
She walked up the ramp and turned the corner to the house, feeling her feet grow heavier as she moved toward the door. It was good to be home, even if she'd probably have to deal with that jackass again.
Charon suddenly grabbed her and pulled her behind him, as she reached the door. She looked up, then down, in surprise as a beeping sound came from under their feet. The world exploded. What―
She landed on her back on the walk and was reeling from the explosion, coughing. Her chest was tight―she'd had the wind knocked out of her, from the impact with the ground. Charon had landed to the left and was holding the railing, his legs bloodied―
Jericho strode up to the ghoul and laughed meanly. He grabbed Charon by the collar, then pulled a combat knife from his side and stabbed him under the ribs, up into the heart. It went in up the hilt―she couldn't even draw a breath to speak, her eyes widening in fear. What―fuck―!
Jericho spat on Charon, twisting the knife deeper. He pushed the ghoul away, the knife sticking from his chest, and turned to Emily.
Oh, fuck fuck fuck―!
She tried to scream but nothing was coming, just wheezy breaths of panic and small squeaking noises. No, no―Oh, God―
Jericho grabbed her around the shoulder with one hand and pushed her toward the shack. "Unlock the fuckin' door, Emily," he snarled, in her ear. "C'mon, girl."
She breathed as quickly as she could, trying to make noise but she couldn't. Jericho pulled something from his side and she heard the soft snick of a switchblade. In the middle of the day in the normally busy settlement, it was the loudest sound she had ever heard.
"Je―" she started to say, and he pressed the blade to her throat.
"Unlock the fuckin' door," he said, his voice promising violence.
She grabbed her keys and unlocked the door. Jericho shoved her inside the shack, slamming the door behind him. She landed face-first on the metal floor and yelped in pain.
"Think you're so fuckin' smart," he said, grabbing her by the back of her leather jacket. "So fuckin' nice and tricky. I got your fuckin' number, right here," he growled. He grabbed at his crotch and bared his nasty teeth at her.
"Wh―" He slammed her front onto the floor, roughly. Her head swum with pain.
"I didn't live to no old age just to be a fuckin' game for some stupid bitch," he said, and put his boot on the back of her head.
She coughed awkwardly as her cheeks were squished into the metal. "Fuck!" she cried, her voice coming back to her. "Why―"
He put his full weight on her head and lifted himself off the floor, and booted her hard in the stomach. She yelped again and covered her stomach with her arms, knees curling up under her on the floor. He gave a disgusting laugh. "That's what I like to see," he said, removing his foot from her head. "That ass all nice and pretty in the air. You're all right, girl." He got down onto his knees.
Emily's eyes bugged out of her head and she tried to roll onto her side, but Jericho was already behind her. He pressed the switchblade into her back through a gap in her armor, placing it next to her spine. He grabbed her hip with one hand and rubbed his crotch into her ass. She opened her mouth and screamed―
He grabbed her by the hair and slammed her forehead into the floor, making the world spin. She went limp, groaning. Her nose started to bleed all over the place, pain lancing through her face. His hands were grabbing around her stomach, undoing her pants. She turned her head to the side―no, no, no―she couldn't feel her voice.
She trembled in fear and the air was cold, as he jerkily pulled her pants down around her knees. "I told you," he said, sneering in her ear as he leaned over her. She heard buckles clinking together, felt his hand moving behind her. "If you scream anything, it's gonna be my name. Keep trying that, I'll cut those pretty little eyes of yours out of your fuckin' head." He waved the knife in her vision, to prove his point. "Be good, you understand?"
Emily whimpered. Jericho slapped her ass and she jumped in surprise. He cackled, his hand rubbing against her skin. "You gotta say it," he said. "Do you fuckin' understand?"
Emily fought back the sobs that were trying to escape and groaned out, "Yes."
Jericho pulled himself upward off of her back and laid both hands on her hips. She cried out as he forced himself inside her, pushing into her. He groaned, throwing his head back. "Oh, Christ, that hits the fuckin' spot!"
She sobbed, unable to stop herself. He felt as large as she had once imagined, pushing into her so hard it hurt. Her head scraped along the floor as he pounded into her, muttering curses to himself and groaning in pleasure. Unwanted pleasure rolled through her stomach and thighs along with pain, and she cried harder.
"Jesus, Emily," he grunted, speeding up his movement, "Jesus Christ!"
Jericho didn't stop talking the whole time, slamming into her over and over. She stilled her sobs and blinked back her tears, keeping her eyes on the leg of the couch. It seemed to last forever, the pain and the stream of words from his mouth. The pain overcame the pleasure, and she was grateful for that.
Oh my God, she thought, doesn't anyone see that Charon is dead out there? Someone―anyone―
Finally he let out a long, loud groan and grabbed her hair with one hand. He pulled her up from the floor, his hips pounding into hers in a few rough thrusts. She stayed limp, her arms dangling, as he came inside her. Tears and blood fell to the floor below her.
"Goddamn!" he breathed out, holding her up. He didn't move for a moment. She could feel his dick inside her, twitching, and heard his ragged breathing.
Please. Please be done.
The switchblade came up to her neck as he pulled her upright against his chest, and he gave a little snicker into her ear. "I didn't hear you sayin' nothing," he said, threateningly.
She breathed out slowly and calmly, trying to think of how to get free. "Wasn't that good," she muttered, knowing it would set him off. She couldn't help it―it was who she was.
Jericho grunted and pressed the blade into her collarbone. "Maybe you got broken by that zombie cocksucker," he growled, and threw her forward. He pulled away from her and stood up, as she tried to get up off of the floor. "Oh, no," he said, grabbing the back of her hair again.
Then Jericho slammed her head into the floor again and the world went black.
"Wake the fuck up!"
A hand slapped her across the face, and Emily jerked awake. Fuck!
"Glad you could join me," Jericho laughed. "It's about to get real interesting."
She whimpered and blinked away the remaining blackness in her eyes, looking around. Her feet were barely touching the floor―she was hanging from something on the ceiling. She squinted at a large metal hook that her hands were chained to, shaking off the last bit of grogginess. Her legs weren't tied but she was weak and in pain.
Where―? The... second room in her shack. It was empty but for a few shelves. Jericho had hung her up on a hook in her shack, and she had a gag around her mouth. She prodded it with her tongue and tasted turpentine. She heaved a little at the taste.
"No one's coming," he sneered at her. "I got your zombie downstairs, with a bullet in his head. I locked up the door tight, too. We got the whole day to ourselves."
She muffed out a curse and kicked out her legs, weakly. Jericho was standing in the doorway in front of her. He was naked, and she looked up and down his body. Scars and burn marks, bites and bullet wounds met her eyes. His dick, in his hand, hard as a rock.
Fuck―he was stroking himself gently, leering at her. "Yeah, you look," he said meanly. "I'm gonna teach you a lesson, girl."
Fuck! She was naked too! She kicked out again, throwing her legs out as far as she could. Jericho laughed and dodged her easily.
"Keep it up," he said. "You ain't gotta have much energy left." He grabbed one of her ankles and pushed her backward, then released her. She swung on the hook, nausea overtaking her.
She tried to swear around the gag and he just laughed at her. "Don't worry. I'll know when you're screaming my name, bitch."
He moved forward―she kicked out a leg and he grabbed her by the thighs, pushing her up a little so that she was resting at his stomach with his dick rubbing on her ass. She squeezed her eyes shut and whimpered. Oh, God―
"That mess downstairs, you earned yourself that one," he snickered. "Fuckin' taunting me, like a stupid little bitch. I ain't no goddamn pushover." He squeezed her thighs with both hands and she groaned in pain. "I didn't survive the fuckin' wastes for sixty-five years just to let some uppity bitch and her fuckin' zombie make a fool out of me." He leaned forward, breathing hot air onto her face. She struggled against him, wiggling around on the hook. The chains rattled loudly in the nearly empty room.
"Yeah, you keep doin' that," Jericho laughed. "I'm gonna make you so fuckin' tired, you won't be moving for a goddamn week."
Emily groaned in pain as he squeezed her thighs again, rubbing himself along her ass. He grinned, then pulled away. Her eyes flew open as he slammed himself into her again. A loud cry of pain, muffled by the gag, erupted from her throat.
"Ah! Shit!" he hissed. "You feel so fuckin' good!" He chuckled and pushed into her, all the way, staring her in the eyes. "Ain't so fucking tough, now, are ya?"
She cried silently, watching him abuse her. Jericho wrapped one arm around her ass and put his mouth on her neck, crushing her into him. He held her still for a moment, one hand on her thigh, muttering to himself. His hand on her ass twitched, torn fingernails scratching her skin.
She let her mind go blank, trying to distance herself from the scene. As Jericho pressed his hand into her muscles and held her thigh, grinding himself into her, she heard that stupid holotape floating through her mind again.
He bit her neck and used his teeth to hold onto her, pressing himself even harder into her. Dull waves of pleasure registered in her brain, but she only heard the music.
Well, thousands of folks back east, they say, are leavin' home most ev'ry day... Jericho groaned and moved his hand from her thigh to her breast, pinching, twisting. She had to have yelled in pain, but she couldn't hear herself anymore.
And they're beatin' the hot old dusty way, to the California line... She felt a rumble in her throat, knew she was tightening around him as he was inside her. He laughed around the skin in his teeth and muttered something foul. Emily's eyes closed to the world.
'Cross the desert sands they roll, a-getting out of that old dust bowl... Her legs were trembling. She felt the tingles up and down her back, through her thighs, spreading through her stomach. Oh, God, he'd done it―
Emily gritted her teeth and muffled out a moan as she came around him, her body pushing against his movement. Inside her head she was screaming, crying, clawing at her own eyes. She felt the tears rolling down her face, felt the little shudders that he was drawing out of her.
He pulled away, watching her swinging on the hook. She was limp and still shuddering, waves of unwanted pleasure rolling over her.
"Heh," he grunted. "Still not screaming?" He spat across the room with a cough. "Guess we're going to have to do this until you get it right."
Emily only cried, her body uselessly dangling on the hook. She was too tired to fight, anymore.
It's a paradise to live in or see,
But believe it or not,
You won't find it so hot,
If you ain't got the do-re-mi.