I'm dead, I thought as I tried to open my eyes. I saw a light at the end of a tunnel. I guess that is eternity. I thought. But death hurt. I was lying flat on my stomach, and I felt a pain in my chest. Maybe there is a hell… I thought.
My eyes started to adjust to the darkness. I could see now. That wasn't heavenly light, it was a utility light. I was in a subway tunnel. In front of me were 2 mirelurks picking apart Chelsy's body. I saw one dig into her skull and pull out her eye and ate it.
I wish I drowned. I knew I was next on their menu, and I couldn't move…I was only able to watch.
A noise came from down the tunnel and the mirelurks stopped eating. One of them squealed, Chelsy's head was dropped, and they went off down the direction of noise.
I heard gunshots and loud squeals of the mirelurks.
"Fucking crabs," I heard a male voice say. The footsteps came closer towards my direction.
I tried to yell for help, but nothing came out.
"What the fuck is that smell," another male voice asked.
The boots of two men were visible now.
"Looks like we interrupted their dinner," one of them said looking at what was left of Chelsy.
One of them turns the other way.
"Power armor," the other says. "She was Brotherhood."
"Better leave it," his mate says. "They'll come looking for it."
The boots move closer to me and stop in front of my head. A man with tattoos on his face appears in front of mine.
"Holy shit," he said. "Are you alive?"
He poked me.
"You are alive," he stood up. "And she is a vault dweller."
"Score," the other one said. "What's your name sweetheart."
"She looks injured," the man with the tattoos on his face said. He reached into his pack and pulled out a stimpack and thrusts it into my back. "You're lucky we found you."
"Lucky," the other one says pulling me to my feet. "Your name is now Lucky."
"That's not my name," I said.
"Yes it is," the other one says and backhands me across the face.
I use what little strength I had to try to hit back but his buddy forces me down to my knees. I put my hand out to keep myself from falling on my face.
"Now that's a good bitch," the tattooed face man says reaching into his pack again. This time pulling out handcuffs and slave collar.
"No," I said using what little energy I had left to try to resist.
"Stay down," the other one hits me with the butt of his rifle on my back.
"With a little training," the tattooed man slips the collar around my neck and pulls my arms in back of me and handcuffs me. "you'll be a good little bitch."
"Man she reeks like a brahmin's asshole." His friend says adjusting his dick. "Shame too, she's not that bad looking. And I never had a vault dweller."
"With the money we get for her," the tattooed man said. "You can have any woman you want."
"But not a vault dweller." He said undressing me with his eyes. "Come on, just five minutes and it will help with her training."
"No way, man," the other one pulled me away. "You have a history of…"
"Come on, that last girl was dying anyway." He whined. "Her right arm was chewed off by a yaoguai."
"I said NO!" The tattooed man pulled me by the arm down the subway tunnel. "I want to make money off of this one."
We walked for what seemed like 30 miles of different tunnels. The only other encounter we had were a couple of rad roaches feasting on a dead mole rat. When we got to our destination I wanted to collapse.
The tattooed man knocked on an old advertisement sign for Abraxo detergent. A speakeasy door opened where the box was.
"Password," A male ghouls voice said from behind the door.
"Cleopatra, queen of the Nile," one of them said.
A bunch of lock clicks and banging sounds came from behind the door. It finally opened revealing a large hallway leading into a big room.
"Wow," the ghoul said sarcastically looking me over. "A live one this time and a vault dweller. How did you manage that?"
"We saved her from being a mirelurks lunch," the tattooed man said.
"What's your name, vault dweller?" The ghoul asked.
"Lucky," the tattooed man said before I could say anything.
"Lucky is an odd name for a vault dweller." The ghoul commented.
"Yeah, well she's a lucky bitch that we found her," the other one said. "She would have been dead if we didn't."
"Fair enough," the ghoul said. "We just need to get her processed and appraised… you know the drill."
"Careful," the tattooed man handed me over. "This one is a fighter."
"They all are when the first come here." The ghoul said. "But they learn quick."
"Don't try anything funny," the tattooed man said to me. "We treated you like royalty compared to the way these guys will treat ya."
The room where the ghoul led me had metal a cage filled with 10 or so people wearing slave collars. On one side of the room there was a stage where auctions took place. The other side appeared to be a processing center with ghouls wearing doctor's lab coats.
In the center of the room there was a ghoul hosing down the floor which was streaked with blood.
"Just do what you're told," the ghoul said to me while putting me in the cage. "And you won't end up like that guy."
He pointed to a gurney with a headless cadaver with blood oozing from the neck.
The slaves in the cage just stared at me the ghoul un cuffed me, then pushed me into the cage. I was hungry and exhausted, and I smelled like shit. I could only imagine what I looked like, because the some of the others, who were beaten and half naked looked away as if I was one of them. And I guessed that I was… for now anyway. Until I could escape. I looked around the room at a way to escape. There was no escape. Guards with machine guns were standing around and talking. They were laughing and telling jokes about how the last one's head flew off his body before it exploded.
"It was almost like fireworks," one of them was laughing hysterically.
I walked towards the back wall and slid down it on to the floor. Several others who were already sitting on the floor watched me. I stared at them and looked into their eyes which were vapid and dark. I turned away and looked up at the ceiling and closed my eyes. Somehow, I fell asleep.

"Hey that's you," a slave nudged me awake.
When I opened my eyes there were less slaves in the cage and a tall man with a rifle strapped over his shoulder holding the cage door open staring at me.
"Get moving," he said to me.
I slowly got to my feet and walked toward the cage door. My body ached.
"A vault dweller," another man said standing in the center of the room. "She'll bring in a lot of caps when we get her trained."
"She looks pretty clean and fit," another one said. "like she just arrived on to the surface."
"Not scarred and malnourished like the other ones," one of the ghoul doctors said. "These bruises are new. Almost like she just came to the surface."
"The found her with a bunch of mirelurks," another one said. "almost became a meal."
"Yeah, she should have no problem with the chems," the doctor said. "You can get her started right away."
A man with a syringe walked over to me and was about to inject me with something.
"I don't want it," I pulled away.
A kick came to the back of my knee and forced me to fall forward. I saw another man about to punch me. My training in the Brotherhood instinctively made me raise my hand to block the blow.
"Fucking bitch is quick," one of them said trying to get control of me.
"I say we make her explode," a guard in the back of the room yelled.
I felt a blow on the back of my neck, and it made me hit the ground again. This time I was on my stomach. Another man got on my back and grabbed my arms and handcuffed me.
"We just need to keep them cuffed so shit like this doesn't happen," I heard him say. "Give her the shot it will sedate her."
I tried to wiggle away.
"This ones got spunk," the man on my back said. I heard him unbuckle his belt. "Hurry up and drug her so I can have some fun with her."
I felt the needle go into my arm and a calm came over me. It was hard to fight back.
"Yeah that's a good girl," the man on my back said caressing my cheek. "Now you'll do what I say."
"Hold up," a man who I couldn't see yelled.
"Now Flieute this doesn't concern you," another man said.
"It does if I want to make a purchase," a man's voice said coming closer. "Let me see her."
The man on my back pulled me up and Flieute came into my view. A tall man in NCR ranger helmet walked toward us.
"Does that pipboy have VATS on it?" he asked.
"Why don't you give me a gun and you'll find out," I said.
Flieute chuckled a bit and walked around me.
"She ain't trained yet, Flieute," one of them said.
"I see that," he said. "I'll give you 500 caps for her.
"That's a bit low," the man who was on my back said. "Even if she isn't trained. 2000 caps."
"750, it's going take some work training her," Flieute said.
"Come back in a week," the seller said. "We'll have her fully trained."
"I need her undamaged," Flieute said.
"1500," the seller said. "I ain't going lower than that."
"I know you can go lower, 1200."
"1400," the seller said. "I throw in the chems to keep her… manageable."
"Okay 1400," Flieute said after thinking a bit.
They shook hands and caps were exchanged.
The seller handed over a bag full of chems and a remote-control device.
"You know how to work this," he asked.
"Just press the button," Flieute said sarcastically.
"Just make sure you're not too close if you need to use it," the seller said. "You might get hurt in the explosion."
"Noted," Flieute said putting the device into his pocket.
"Well she's all yours," the seller said. "A pleasure doing business with you."

Flieute pulled me by right arm through a different hallway than the one I came in. When we got to the subway tunnels he pushed me up against the wall. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a belt and tied it around my neck. I got a glimpse of his armor underneath his long NCR jacket. It read LAPD F. Lieutenant. The letters were faded.
We pulled me by the belt as we walked through the subway tunnels. He didn't say anything as we walked. My hands were still cuffed behind my back, and I was starting to struggle to keep up with him. The drugs that were in me were making me dizzy. I tripped over a rail and fell forward.
"We're almost there," he said pulling me up.
I was wondering where "there" was.
We walked up through Medical City Metro station, but we didn't go to the surface. Instead, we came up in the lobby of a hotel and we were greeted by a securitron that had a security guard image on the screen.
"Welcome back Flieute," it said. "Oh, you have company."
"Yeah," Flieute said. "She'll be staying a while."
"Her biometric scan has been registered," the robot said. "Do you wish me to send the information to the others in the building."
"Yes, please." Flieute replied. "And don't let her escape….and if she tries to attack me, please subdue her."
"Noted," the robot replied. "Shall I have the chef prepare your usual?"
"Yes," he said.
"And what about our guest," the robot asked.
"She'll have a can of beans," Flieute replied.
"Your order has been placed and should be ready when you get upstairs."
"Thank your M7," Flieute said.
"My pleasure," M7 replied.
We went up in an elevator to the 16th floor.
We exited the elevator to an open floor plan of his living space. It was very clean and had very well-preserved furniture and fixtures in it. There was a living room area on one side of the building that had several couches, a computer hooked up to a TV screen and a bar.
The other side had a laboratory with mainframe computers grinding away.
He freed my hands from the cuffs and took the leash off of my neck.
He took off his jacket and helmet and I finally got a look at the man who purchased me. He was a middle-aged black man short dreadlocks and a dark beard that had specks of white in it.
"Damn you smell," he said after he took his helmet off. He pointed toward a door. "Go take a shower. But first, take off those clothes, I'll have Mr. Handy burn them."
He watched me as I reluctantly got undressed.
"What kind of experiments did they to you in that vault," he asked looking at the scar of my c-section and bullet wound scars from being shot by a turret.
I handed the Mr. Handy my clothes and walked into the bathroom to take a shower.
I watched a large amount of dirt and blood wash down the drain. I scrubbed my skin with a bar of soap that smelled like oatmeal.
When I got out I was greeted by a Mr. Handy.
"Here you go, Miss," he said handing me an oversized olive-green wool sweater with a folded pair of boxers.
I grabbed the clothes from robot and got dressed. The sweater was itchy and there wasn't any elastic on the boxers to stay up, so I rolled the top over to keep them from falling down.
I exited the room and saw Flieute eating chopped up pieces of Cram in a bowl of macaroni and cheese.
"Come eat," he ordered me to come sit with him.
Another Mr. Handy came over and handed me a bowl of pork and beans.
"I have 3 rules," Flieute said as we ate, "Don't try to kill me, don't try to escape and don't touch my stuff."
I didn't say anything.
"It says here on your detonator that your name is Lucky?" he asked.
"That's not my name," I said. "My name is Alice."
"Alice," he laughed. "That's an old lady's name and Luck is a dog's name…No, I think I'll call you Ginger, because of your read hair."
"I don't like that name," I said.
"You see…" Flieute said sitting down next to me with a syringe in his hand pushing it into my arm. "it doesn't matter what you like or want anymore. It's all about what I want… and want you to do."
This dose of chems hit me hard. A few seconds after the injection, it felt as if I was no longer in the room with him. I was sitting in front of a TV watching the Open Season Buggs Bunny cartoon. Watching them argue about it being rabbit season or duck season. Elmer shoots Daffy Duck. This replays over and over until once again, I am in living room, sitting on the couch, at a different time of day. Flieute isn't in the room, there is just a Mr. Handy hovering above me.
"Good morning," it says. "Are you hungry. Flieute told me to feed you some Sugar Bombs when you woke up. Shall I get you some?"
"No," I answered. I felt sick, not hungover, just sick. My stomach felt tight, and my mouth had a horrible metallic taste to it. I ran to the bathroom and began to vomit in the toilet. Mr. Handy followed me.
"Are you alright," it asks.
"Go away," I told it.
"I can't," it said. "I was told to watch you,"
"Why," I asked it.
"I don't know the reason," it responded. "I just do what I am told."
"Can you get me something to settle my stomach?" I asked.
"I can get you Sugar Bombs," it replied.
I was beginning to see that this robot does exactly what it is told.
"Can't you think for yourself," I asked it. "Or do you always do what you are told."
The Mr. Handy hovered in the air above me and remained silent for a few minutes.
"If you are inquiring whether I can make decisions based on what you ask me to do," it finally answered me. "then the answer is no."
"Tinker," I heard Flieute yell, "Where is Ginger?"
"She is in here sir," the Mr. Handy named Tinker replied. "She doesn't look well."
"That's just a side effect of the chems," Flieute said to me when he saw me kneeling next to the toilet.
"What's in them?" I ask.
"I'm guessing some Psycho, Calmex and probably some hallucinogens," he replied. "I'll give you another shot after you eat something."
"I'm not hungry," I told him.
"Once again, you think I care about how you feel," he said lifting me up off the floor by my arm and walking me to the kitchen area. "You're not going to get out of this situation by starving yourself. You can eat… or I can shove a tube down your throat and pour it in you."
"Why do you care if I starve myself," I asked.
"I need to keep you alive for my experiments," he said pouring me a bowl of Sugar Bombs and milk.
"What kind of experiments," I asked.
"I'm not used to being asked so many questions," he chuckled. "These bots just do what they are told. I guess I expect you to do the same."
"I am a human being," I said. "I have a brain."
"So do these things," he replied. "at least a limited capacity brain."
"What kind of experiments," I asked again.
"That pipboy on your arm," he said. "has VATS on it."
"Yeah, so?"
"What happens when you use VATS," he asked.
"I don't know… it seems like time slows down and somehow I know which body part to shoot to kill my target."
"That pipboy has a lot of technology that we cannot replicate today." He said. "The way it interacts with your body and mind. Its brain is a part of your brain now."
"Yeah, someone told me that once before," I said.
"If it knows and sees what you thinking and seeing and how you are feeling," he said. "don't you think it would be possible to transfer all of those feelings and what you are seeing inside of its brain instead of yours?"
"You mean transfer my consciousness?" I said, this guy was another Father.
"Well yeah," he said. "That's one possibility. I was more or less thinking about keeping a record of your life for posterity's sake. But shit, you gave me another idea to think about."
"Please don't try to transfer me into a machine," I asked.
"Oh man," he poured himself a bowl of Sugar Bombs. "If that were possible, I wouldn't send you. I'd send myself.
"No, I'm just going to focus saving what is up here." He poked my head, "To that pipboy of yours."
I remained quiet for the rest of our breakfast. I wasn't going to put any more ideas into his head.