One Month Ago
"Here ya go."
The foamy beer was slid forth across the weathered table; a few caps were fished out from between mud-stained fingers, set to clink down one at a time.
"Eh, no need," the barkeep rasped, giving a wave. "Thanks for the work you're doin', really means a lot to us folk…ya know how it is."
The lingering cap in Sinjin's palm cut into his skin as he tightly curled his fist, the tremor in his jaw raging momentarily.
"I'm not looking for any favors," he drawled, slapping the remainder of his money down. A large red handprint stained the wood. He leaned back in his chair and leveled a straight stare of utter defiance. "Take the fucking money."
Silence hushed over the room. Sinjin shifted his weight, the creak from his chair disrupting the painful pause. The ghoul slid the caps into his shaking hand, unable to meet the sharp eyes of the ex-raider that were trained on his head. Sinjin glanced around the room, silently challenging anyone- anyone, for fucking anything. All eyes drifted down to their hands or their plates. He snorted, hunching over his stale alcohol that tasted more of piss than hops, and ignored the general hubbub of the bar that began to rise once more.
What the fuck was he doing with himself anymore? Drudging up crates of mirelurk on the bay? Clearing out molerat-infested farm fields? Almost everyone in the Commonwealth nearly depended on the self-pious Minutemen for protection; solo mercenary work wasn't what it cut out to be, not anymore, not when the big games were played by the big dogs. He should just leave. Wash his hands, one two, of the whole fucking city of Boston, take a hike out west towards Lake Michigan…start all over again.
Sinjin's lips met his chipped glass, the vivid fantasy that had kept him up most nights replaying behind the far-off gaze of his eyes. It wasn't until something blurred before him did he redeploy his attention to a ghoul woman taking residence in the chair across.
"I have heard a lot about you," she croaked.
He eyed her; she didn't appear to be the type squandering away in this little corner of a ghoul sanctuary. Her clothes weren't stained with brahmin shit, and she had a little nasty gleam in her eye that spoiled her smile.
"What the fuck do you want?" he grumbled. "I'm not in the fucking mood. If you need a job done, best go find someone else."
"There is no one else."
Again, she smiled. It irked his fucking nerves, and he gave her a look that used to send his men scrambling for cover.
"I need something recovered for me…it's a very personal item." She leaned forward and drew her voice down to a light rasp. "I'm in need of someone with your…expertise."
Sinjin narrowed his eyes. "You better be ready to fucking pay."
"Oh, but I already am." She clicked open a cooler, procuring a large bag that made a sizeable clink on the table between them. "Well? Interested yet?"
The bag was handled; it was hefty. Just who the fuck was carrying around this kind of money?!
Sinjin zipped open his duffel bag, tucking away his newly acquired currency as prying eyes began to cluster on them.
"Yeah, I'm interested."
"Good." Carol stood from her chair. "Let's discuss the details somewhere more private, shall we?"
A Few Hours Ago
Just how in God's name did it all come to this?
Forget the caps; forget the Commonwealth; forget any fucking idea that somehow this entire shit-stained debacle was going to get him any form of closure on his old way of life. Forget her, forget all these fucking assholes!
"I must admit; I did not quite expect this." The glowing ghoul who stepped into the concourse had a strange, calm demeanor about him. A quick count of five bodies fell in line around him, armed, and noticeably human. The ghoul clasped his hands behind himself, ignoring the whispered stares and blinking eyes falling upon him. "I hope these years have proven well to you...I sincerely mean that."
"Fuck you," Charon spat. He kept his gun raised and trigger finger rock steady.
Sinjin tensed his shoulders and clenched his useless hands- if the big guy was this pissed off, it wasn't going to spell any good for anybody. He perceptively took notice of the leather satchel belted to Charon's thigh. The enemy of his enemy was most certainly not his fucking friend…but if there was a side to be on, it was the one guaranteed to win.
"Who the hell are you?" Barrows warily eyed the intruding company, taking a hesitant step forward for some semblance of authority in the conversation. "If you brought trouble with you, leave it at the door."
"She's with you, is she not?" the glowing ghoul rasped, his focus only drawn to Charon. "I will not hurt her-"
The ferryman snarled, flexing as he spoke. "Leave now."
The ghoul pursed his lips, and then swept his calculative gaze around the room. "…very well." He unholstered his gun, and the room seemed to tense. "Restrain him."
That's when the first round fired- it rang as clear as a bell in a boxing match. The fighters were squared, one against the other, now free to dance on their feet and exchange hell with their fists.
Sinjin swept down and unsheathed Charon's sharp blade. He was going to have to act fucking fast to get the hell out of here. One of the bodyguards posted at the door was equipped with a modified syringer; it whistled like a peal of wind, cutting through the air as it embedded vial after vial into the ferryman's chest.
Charon ignored his captive freeing himself as he ripped the syringes to toss them aside. Charon then glanced up, wavered a step, and fell forward on all fours.
"Get out!" Barrows barked.
The glowing ghoul took his aim, and depressed the trigger.
The good doctor grunted a noise of surprise and pain, staring at the bullet wound in his chest. "Nurse…forceps." Barrows crumpled to the floor.
After that, the room broke into utter chaos.
Ghoul's screeched and laser fire rained through bullets. Sinjin scattered amongst the confusion and armed himself with the weight of Charon's shotgun- it was a real nice fucking gun, and he felt more stable with it in his hands. Another whistle of air, and Sinjin grunted, a pinching sensation spiderwebbing at the back of his neck. He instinctively brushed at it- a vial dropped to the floor. Shit. The room instantly spun like a nightmarish carousel, it felt as though he had mixed the wrong batch of jet and daytripper at once. A startling force circled him around- the big guy was back on his feet, and he was pissed.
Charon disarmed him with ease. Whatever was in that fucking drug was reeling his mind like a kaleidoscope. How did the ferryman recover so quickly from such a huge dose?!
Sinjin slumped against the wall and groaned into his hands, using all of his conscious willpower in just keeping upright.
The screaming was hellish; a twisted hallucination amidst the swirling insanity of his reality. He blinked widely at the nurse yelling something he couldn't quite discern- it was too thick, like a sudden fog had blanketed his senses. She then glowed bright, too bright, and zip! A pile of ash was all that remained.
I gotta get the fuck outta here! Sinjin panicked. He took a step forward, wavered, and sluggishly roved his head to catch sight of the big ghoul taking a few hits of laser fire. That glowing prick was marching up the stairs, unaffected by the chaos conducted around him.
Splat!
A ghoul had fallen from the second story and cracked his skull on the floor beside him; brain matter was stepped into and skidded along.
Fuck this! Fuck this! He knew it was the drug talking- this amount of violence was no stranger to him. Sinjin thrived in this sort of carnage; he was an expert wielder at it.
Some heavy artillery then burst through the door- the merc had arrived on the scene, wasting no time in making a show of himself. The syringer whistled its deadly call; a vial was implanted at the base of his neck.
Everything was becoming a blur; everything was becoming numb.
And then everything seemed to stop.
"It's clear!"
The strange ghoul from before was making his way back down the stairs, a strange item held in his hand. The ferryman and the merc were both cuffed. Sinjin felt his own hands wrangled back behind himself, the tightening of iron manacles drawing a low hiss from his lips.
"How unfortunate," the ghoul remarked, stowing the piece inside his pocket.
"She's not here."
"She is…keep looking."
And just like a bitch answering its master's call, she walked inside, eyes wide and full of disbelief. She screamed, she wailed; it eerily echoed around the room, a last cry to the ever-flowing river for one final passenger to board. The merc jumped from his spot surprisingly quick as she went down. Sinjin turned his head as they embraced in a dramatic kiss.
"I love you," she keened, her eyes unseeing what was there.
"I got ya, I got ya baby," he blubbered in return as she faded to black.
"Cross, if you do not calm down," the glowing ghoul was shouting, trying to make his voice of reason heard through the tangle of snarls and inhuman roars, "I will be forced to exercise control."
The merc was a goddamn animal, shackles and drugs be damned. The way he was prowling over her body, eyes seething with hostility and stance giving a clear warning to anyone daring enough in coming closer. A synth did just that- they stumbled and fell over the moment he snapped his jaws, and the second their head hit the deck, Cross's boot slammed down with so much force it cracked it.
"Very well," Thomas sighed. He waved a hand dismissively. "Sedate him."
Sinjin didn't understand it; they would be better off just filling that asshole with lead. If they were really smart, they'd bag her in, too. Throw both those fucks into Hell's eternal fire.
Cross was injected again until he finally settled to his knees, the weight of his head hanging limply against his chest.
"Get the bird on-site and secure the passengers. The storm has dissipated enough." That smug little fuck was waltzing around like he owned the goddamn place, coming to a halt before himself and regarding him with an intellectuality that Sinjin wanted to carve right off. "And where do you place yourself in all of this?"
Sinjin tilted his head to the side. "Kiss my ass."
"As you wish."
The syringer was raised at his head, and with that, his lights were snuffed out.
…
The slick fluid glistened in the dim lighting, inviting his growing erection as he slapped it against her folds, rubbing the stiffened member across her sex with his tip. He wrapped her left leg around his waist as he arched her into himself, driving his cock in a single jab down to that mindless tipping point.
"Ah!" she cried, and he growled in response, beginning his thrust hot and heavy with no chance for adjustment to his girth.
He leaned forward, grabbing at her jaw much like the night she had threatened to crush him. "Say my fucking name," he demanded.
She only stared at him, breathing tersely through her flaring nostrils with her jaw clenched shut.
He raised a brow at her stubbornness, but it did confirm one thing. She knew exactly who's dick was shoved up her pussy. "Say my fucking name."
She screwed her eyes shut and he snarled, slapping his flesh against her own as he roughly fucked her, bringing his other hand down to tease her clit with experienced zealous. She gasped pleasurably, her cunt tightening around his cock the closer she came to an orgasm.
He suddenly stopped, his voice husky and his hot breath washing over her. "Say it."
"No."
Gonna be like that, huh? He bent over and swiped at a nipple with his mouth, sucking on it noisily as his teeth grazed the areola skillfully. Her spine immediately left the floor as though she were magnetized to him, and a smirk curled around her breast. He continued to pound her mercilessly, her free breast slapping against her chest as she panted pathetically for him.
"Fuck-fuck-!"
His thumb made long strokes against her clit as he released her from his suckling, the skin around her nipple bruising nice and dark. He came face to face with her without breaking his tempo of slapping his balls against her ass. "My name."
The tip of his thumb just lightly grazed the topside of her swollen fold, and she caved. "Fuck-ah, Sinjin, yes!"
The ghoul broke into a breathy chuckle, and then crudely smashed his mouth against hers, devouring her tongue with the weight of his own as their teeth clacked together. Her climax rippled her cunt along his dick, forcing him to come as he ravenously rammed himself as far as he could go, slightly scooting her across the floor. When he felt himself spent and their bodies shaking, he brought her leg up and kissed the topside of her foot.
"You're mine now, so don't fucking forget it."
…
The sky was pulsating with a buffeting roar of air; he panicked, not realizing the situation as he bolted up and frantically looked around. These fucks put him on a vertibird- he was airborne, and he had no fucking clue where the hell he was being charted off to.
Sinjin groaned, twisting his head around to deliver some chiropractic relief to his sore neck. Being passed out in such an awkward position had left a throbbing twinge in his shoulder that traveled down his spine…whilst his erotic dream left a stiff bulge under his codpiece.
The big fuck was seated across from him with the succubus from his fantasy cradled in his lap. The heated fire in his eyes was disconcerting, ushering a flashback to their ferry on the boat. Occasionally his hands would twitch, and Sinjin knew all too well that the big ghoul wanted to let loose, and he really didn't want to be around when he finally would.
The air began to grow cold- clouds drifted by when unavoidable at their altitude, brisking a thick chill inside the cabin and mild turbulence. Another half-hour passed until the sight of the high-rise buildings and the outline of old-world Boston came into view. They made a steady flight up the Charles River, close enough to the surface the water pulsated like its own primordial entity, the occasional boom of thunder in the sky mistaken for its lamenting call.
Oh shit, it's the Silver Shroud!
He's coming for us! He's real!
No way in hell am I sticking around! Screw this! Fuck this!
He was back in this hopeless city, nothing more than the last scrape at the bottom of a barrel. Sinjin leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. If he was going out, it was going to be on his terms, this time.
The ghoul snapped to the ready, and barreled into the side of his nearest captor, tipping him overboard to splash in the murky waters below. That glowing little prick was shouting over the buffeting air of the rotors, trying to restore order as Sinjin leapt to his feet and tackled his full weight into the pilot at the controls. He butted his head against his helmet, disorienting them both.
We'll just all go out together. One big happy fucking family.
A shrill of beeping and lights began to alarm from rapid loss of altitude- a synthesized pull up, pull up, altitude, altitude, fifty feet, forty feet- minimal rate of-
The glint of a gun at his side; a hand tugging at his elbow.
The dark river soon overcame them.
The Present
There was nothing fucking special about that woman to give him this much fucking trouble; she was a number one pain in the ass. A whiny, sobbing bitch that made him grit his teeth.
Goddamnit.
His boots squelched with every step he made; he subconsciously rubbed at his swollen wrists. The empty streets and hollowed buildings were familiar enough that he didn't have to think twice about where he placed his feet. He was about halfway to his destination when he finally became fully aware of his intentions. He squinted through the dark at a rusted sign- it wasn't far, he should pay a little visit, tell that bitch exactly what was on his mind…
She was the cause of all this- his aching body, his pissed-off attitude, his new obsession, his unconsolable lust for some form of ironic justice.
He trudged on down rubble-strewn alleyways until he was at the doorstep of the old-world hotel.
You bring her right back here to me.
He could have done just that. He had her right in his fucking hands when he pulled her out of that river...
They were even now...that's what he told himself. They exchanged fists and bloodied lips, nothing more. He never had to see her face again, never had to think about that stupid fucking kiss, never had to wonder if-
His fist pounded on the steel frame, and it swung open to her annoyed, rotting face. Sinjin stepped inside, and slammed the door shut behind him.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Carol screeched, unafraid of this big ghoul making himself at home. "You can't be back so soon, what happened?!"
Sinjin plopped down in a shredded recliner chair in the corner, took out his gun, and blew a hole through her leg.
Carol shrieked like a dying harpy; the click of his weapon muffled her screams to whimpered sobs.
"This is how this is gonna go," Sinjin snarled. "You're gonna tell me everything you know about that woman, and then I'm gonna blow a hole through your skull."
"Don't kill me," she pleaded, falling to the floor as blood pooled around her. "Please don't kill me."
The ghoul spied a bottle of vodka on a small table, and rose to retrieve it. "I notice your little bodyguard isn't here...that's a real shame." He uncapped it, took a swig, and then walked over until he was looming over her. He tilted the bottle slightly, a small stream splattering the topside of her head. "Who is she?"
Carol coughed from the overpowering swell of alcohol, her act of self-pity quickly turning to rage. She snarled and bared her teeth like a rabid fiend. "Why the fuck do you care?! She is nothing to you! She's mine!"
Sinjin took another swig. "Was that supposed to answer my question?" He then slowly crouched until he was eye-level with her, wrapping his hand around what little hair remained on her burnt scalp. "I think I remember a little birdie saying they heard a lot about me...let's see if I can't remind them what they heard was true."
He twisted her neck to the side, and hoisted her to her feet.
It was about time everyone repaid what was owed to him.