The outer areas of DC were the most eerie, at least in Arthur's opinion. There was so little going on out here, that it seemed unnatural. It created a state of unease that rivalled the Feral Ghoul infested underground.
There was a point, out here, that most DC natives didn't want to go beyond. A threshold that made travellers uneasy. You'd have to truly prepare to journey beyond it.
Today, they would cross that threshold... Not far but past it and beyond it was an urban legend that few dared to look into.
Vault 97.
As Arthur found himself stewing on the thought of it, Hardin, who was in a polar state of wonder and confusion, spoke up.
"What's Vault 97? What's in there?"
Arthur glanced back to this young Sheriff, envying his ignorance.
"Whatever is in there created Thomas Hamilton. Or so the legend goes."
Both Hardin and Jynx froze at that name, their eyes somewhat glazed as they retreated into their mind, hoping to calm themselves, putting out the memories like fires.
"Nah... Hamilton's from 101, like Callaghan." Hardin countered, he knew that much at least.
"He was born in 101 but he was made in 95. They say that the residents in there are cannibals, that they explore the hillsides, looking for hapless survivors too drag back and devour or... make them like them." Arthur elaborated.
"H-How do you mean? You can't make a cannibal, can you?" Jynx would normally dismiss the idea outright but... Arthur didn't sound like he was ill informed or kidding.
"Nobody knows. But their numbers were growing for a long time and then? Nothing... Nothing coming in or out, just... dead."
"Hamilton?" Hardin offered.
"Most likely."
"Shit, you don't think he's in there, do you?" Hardin offered, getting a sudden glare from Jynx, who clearly hadn't considered that.
"It's possible but I doubt it. We haven't seen him for years. Assuming that he didn't just run into a sewer and bleed to death." Durga said, seeming rather sure of the latter being the most likely scenario.
"He's out there." Hardin countered, as if he knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt.
"Men like him never have enough decency to die."
This conversation, a unpleasant as it was had done a good job of distracting the party as they wandered past the threshold and towards the fabled Vault 97. There was little to no signs of life out here, just the odd fallen tree and rock. They hopped over a stream, a bit ago and that was the most interesting thing that they had encountered thus far.
"Whatever is in there, you all need to keep your guards up." Durga warned them, laser rifle at the ready.
"Hamilton or not, if there are people alive down there, they aren't going to be friendly."
Tom furiously tapped away at his terminal's keys, reading through the diary of a long lost survivor, who met his end with a cannibal tribe in the hills.
They likely came for him in the end.
He'd lost count how long it had been, since he fled the Vault. Wasn't quite a month but it felt longer than a year.
A Raider on one of the highways threatened him with rape and dismemberment, the second that he left 101. He wasn't expecting Tom to be so willing to use his 10mm pistol and blow a hole in his eye.
He wasn't able to see that whole fight through but he got a Roving Trader hat out of it. It kept the sun out of his eyes and the goggles might come in handy.
He was supposedly set for life down here... Free from the Vault, tucked away from the outside world, an unknown entity. For some, this would be enough and at first, it was... however, the longer he dwelled down here, the worse he felt.
The walls and floor were all the same colour, providing little by way of stimulation. The bunker at the back provided a slight pallet cleanser, if one preferred gun metal grey to depressing stone grey or earth brown.
There had to be a bit more than this out there or else he may as well had not left the vault.
It didn't take much consideration to leave this place behind him, just for now. There were people to the south of this place, long ago and their camps may still have supplies. It was worth a look.
Tom was oblivious to any cannibal activity down here, whatever that business was, it was concluded centuries ago. The family that lived here had likely perished, moved on or joined their ranks, making this Hamilton's hideaway.
Murky brown dirty carpeted this bleak and unpleasant landscape. Only the occasional sign of picked bones from a dead world. Shells of cars, rotting wood, burned trees and charred bones.
There was a time where all of this was fascinating to Tom but he'd already grown jaded. The nostalgia and wonder faded with each night on the run or sleeping in the cold and dark.
There was a camp on the hillside, all that was left of it was a faint black, burnt out shape and a few embers. It had been abandoned and left to die some time ago, trash was left scattered across the cracked ground, gasping for water and hungry for vegetation.
This place was likely a temporary stop on a longer journey, nothing for Tom here. Still, the fact that people still camped in these hills... it made him wonder if anyone remembered who or what used to live in them.
This thought took him into his mind's inner recesses and he didn't really give the path ahead any thought. As soon as he moved his foot, he heard the clattering of kicked metal. A can or...
A canteen?
He was stood on a genuine Vault-tec Cantine. Strong metal, with the Vault Number stamped on the front. Impersonal and ugly. The Vault-tec MO.
Vault 97...
He slowly picked it up, eyeing it and giving it some thought. He hadn't heard of any Vault besides 101, though they must exist, surely.
He wasn't sure how far and wide they were. How many there were in total or where to look for them. Not that he wanted to but it was an interesting idle thought, to pass the time.
He picked the canteen up and dusted it, figuring it would make a good water flask if he ever needed one. It was likely dropped by accident as it was still in excellent condition, if not a little beaten up and dusty.
He considered the possibility that the Vault was still operational. After all, Vault 101 was.
Tom had read the Overseer's terminal, the suggestion that it was all a big social experiment made him feel uneasy but he didn't quite believe that the experimentation could be anything worse than Vault 101. Surely Vault Tec weren't allowed to make Vaults designed to kill people or drive them to complete insanity.
As an older man, Hamilton knew better but at this point in time, there was enough naivety to be exploited. Enough hope in those clear eyes, untarnished by wrinkles or bloodshots to be exploited by anyone willing.
The Canteen clipped firmly to his gear, lightly swinging as he took off and followed any path that looked worn on any level.
The faint breathe of the winds rendered his skin cold, serving as brief intervals for the merciless sun. He was thankful that he had his hat, to keep it out of his eyes or from cooking his brains.
He could hear the occasional shriek in the winds, sometimes an animal or beast and othertimes the groans of zombified metal, groaning under its own weight.
There wasn't as much to grab his attention with out here. Some would find that relaxing but to Tom, it was more... unnerving. He felt that the true threat was waiting, possibly watching him and he only had to let his guard down a second for it to find him.
"Hello there!"
Too late...
The voice was carried across the empty vacuum, making its source easy to trace.
A man in velvet coat, wrapped around a similar velvet waistcoat stood waiting for him. An old world pair of slacks and a white shirt were rapped in even older splendours. The Man had his hair done as elegantly he picked his wardrobe, looking like a television personality or cult leader.
He stood, eyeing Tom with unnerving smile, hands firmly placed in his pockets.
"Don't get many wandering this far out these days!" He began, not seeming remotely intimidated that Tom had drawn his gun and was quickly marching towards him, looking like he intended to use it.
"A pity really... We do so love people..." He sighed, veering off to the side.
"Who are you!?" Tom asked, raising his 10mm Pistol and aiming straight at his head.
"No bullshit, what do you want with me!?"
All pretence of civility left the Velvet Man's face as he turned his attentions back to Tom. His thick, rather wild moustache and chin hair lightly blew in the wind but everything else remained completely still.
"My dear boy. We want you."
"We?" Tom asked, finding this a little too fucked up, even for him.
"We who!?"
"I suppose you'd call us a... family. Though we aren't connected through genes, few if any of us are. No. We are connected through one simple experience, one that I'm hoping to put you through."
"I'll pass." Tom scoffed, finding himself hesitant to shoot him. In later years, the man he'd become would not have gotten this far. He'd know what was coming next and he'd spill blood before it happened but how does one so inexperienced and so restricted by humanity protect themselves from every little thing?
"Do you think I wanted this?" The Velvet Man asked, his intense stare sent a shiver down Hamilton's spine.
"Do you think that I had a choice either?"
"I don't care. I'm going back now. If you value your life, you'll..." Tom noticed a slight prodding in his lower back and several soldiers, moving around him.
"You're unfortunately not lucky enough to be prey, dear boy. This pack requires another predator."
"What're you...?"
Tom didn't get to ask his question; he felt a sharp sting to the back of the head.
A jolt shot through Tom's body, forcing him to thrash about, with a shaky yell. He threw his head back, gasping as he was forced to make eye contact with the Velvet Man. It almost felt like a bad dream, just for a moment, he felt himself coming up for air after the nightmare.
He tried to move his hands, his arms or legs but found that they didn't move. They were heavily strapped down with medical bracers. He was blinded by the enraged bulb above his head, more brutal to the eyes than the sun. Beyond that? It was hard to tell... He was in some sort of operating theater.
"Hmm..." The Velvet Man murmured, giving Tom a moment to breathe.
"Hit him harder than I thought."
"Who... Are you... People?" Tom panted, resulting in Velvet Man wrapping his hand around his throat and giving it a faint squeeze.
"You'll work that out. This isn't a consultation, dear boy. This is a day of action."
Tom paused, giving him a look of confusion. What the fuck was this children's entertainer talking about?
He wasn't able to speak, this was likely the Velvet Man's intention. He glanced to his comrades and prompted them to draw a needle from a small box.
"Hold still, dear boy. We only have so many of these." Velvet Man warned as a man in combat fatigues readied the serum, clearing it of air bubbles or other lethal mistakes.
"Break it? We break you..."
Tom moved a little, not of his own volition but as a reflex but found himself quickly being held down by the others as the prick of the needle slid into his temple. He felt a sharp pain in the side of his head as the needle slid deep inside, moving into his brain.
The leather straps seared his flesh as he tried to break free. He'd saw through his wrists if the remaining stump could knock this thing away from his head, even for a second. He could've sworn that he felt a wet trickle, leaking down his arms.
He grit his teeth, involuntarily, eventually parting them to scream.
"Week Three..." Velvet Man began, prompting the overbearing light to hit Tom's face, causing him to wince.
"Subject 10, Thomas Hamilton. From Vault 101..."
"Why're you doing this?" Tom winced, looking around in a daze as he tried the restraints, his panic quickly turned to anger.
"Let me fucking go!"
The patient lunged, restraints cutting into his arms and legs and causing him a great deal of pain but it was the futility of things that made him give up and drop back, to being prone.
"You're on your third week now?" Velvet Man asked, giving him a faint smile as he dragged his fingers across Tom's chest.
"Yeah... It's starting to take a hold..."
"What've... Done to me?" Tom winced, trying to be on the Velvet Man's level, so he could make comfortable eye contact.
"What was in that... Needle?"
"A miracle, Dear Boy." The Velvet Man assured him, leaning forward.
"Nothing I didn't get, don't you worry. You're becoming one of us, evolving into the perfect human for the end of civilization."
"It's... Like my nerves are on fire." Tom winced, taking a deep breath.
"How do you do this to someone, if you've had it done to you? You sick fucking freak!"
"Woah... Woah now... I don't like hearing such ugly words, coming from such a pretty mouth. You're special, you know? All of you are but only one of you can survive."
"On- So you plan on killing me?"
"Oh no, not planning on killing you. Moreso... Giving you a chance, a one in ten chance but a chance, none-the-less. As your killer instincts evolve, we'll give you some trials to see if you're cut out to live among us."
"You're going to torture me and expect me to not try and escape or try to kill you?"
"Oh, we've had one or two that have tried... On both accounts but we always get 'em. Look at us, look at yourself. We are your future, my dear boy. We've been through what you've been through and survived. Do you really think that your chances are good, taking us on? Trying to fight your urges alone?"
"Urges? Violent... Urges?" Tom asked.
"I... Want to kill... Hurt... Maim... Thinking about Wolfe... What I'd do to him."
"Yep, that's part of the process, Dear Boy. You're getting over those pesky barriers, that most people face. Turning you into a gifted killer and then an apex predator."
Tom glared at the Velvet Man, taking a deep breath and swallowing hard.
"I didn't ask for this..."
"You didn't have to... You were going to die out there and I decided to save you."
"You're stripping me of my humanity and replacing it with hate, how is that saving me?"
"Cause when I'm done with you? No man will be able to kill you. I haven't found one yet."
Hamilton's head slowly rolled over to the Velvet Man, his eyes shot open as he glared straight at him, staring through his eyes, that thinly disguised exterior.
"You have now."
The Velvet Man somewhat clammed up at that, not really expecting it. His look of shock quickly turned into a warm smile as he lightly laughed at Hamilton's threat.
"I look forward to your attempt, Dear Boy. I look forward to your attempt..." The Velvet Man stood up, pacing around to Hamilton's feet and looking him up and down, sizing him up.
He met Hamilton's glare, with a salesman's smile, forced but yet so natural. Inhuman, yet so alluring.
"I've been wondering, this whole time... How do you taste?"
Hamilton's hard gaze faltered a little, there was no hint of bluff in his words. That was a legitimate query, none that any human being should have.
"Have you had them yet? The cravings?" He began, gently placing his hands on Tom's ankle and gently up the leg of his Vault Suit.
"I have plenty of cravings about you..." He continued, gliding his hand over his knee and to his thigh, gently sliding it inwards, settling around the groin.
"But the one that beats all of them? How do you taste? Vault Dweller... Good stock... Soft skin, warm blood... Wonder how you'll be, if I keep you alive.
If I consume you, piece by piece. Will our conversations be as... intimate?"
Thomas glared at the Velvet Man, his eyes softening as he regressed back to his former self. He found his humanity, outrage turned to fear and a desire to kill became a desperate plea to live.
"I'll let you in on a little secret, Dear Boy." Velvet whispered, gently placing his other hand on Thomas'.
"Out of all of my little pet projects... You fascinate me the most. I cannot wait to see what you become..."
Tom barely flinched as the power surged through him, he jittered as one would expect but he barely gave off a grunt to it. He was either used to the pain or evolving past the point that it was significant.
"You're becoming accustomed to our way of life?" The Velvet Man asked, getting Tom's attention instantly. He gave his senior an intense glare, just for a moment before laying back, with a sigh.
"People can get used to almost anything..."
"It helps, when you have something pretty by your side." The Velvet Man agreed, pulling himself up and gently grazing Tom's cheek, with his knuckle. He breathed out, wistfully, as if longing for his prisoner to return the affection.
Sadly for him, he wasn't likely to.
"You mean the girl?" Tom asked, glancing up to the ceiling.
"You can't fuck with me, by using her. She and I agreed on that. We get along but we aren't going to be getting attached to each other."
The Velvet Man admired his efforts but he could see through the boy's lies.
"If I let you leave the program, graduated you early? Would you leave her behind?"
Tom glanced over to the Velvet Man, a new intensity in his eyes lingered, like a serpent gazed through them, distant.
"Depends... Is that a real offer?"
"It could be." The Velvet Man offered.
"If you could take that... tenderness and channel it, point it my way?"
Of course, there were strings attached.
"How about you fuck yourself with a..."
"Language!"
"Have you ever tried running yourself through, with a sword? I heard it's fun."
The Velvet Man lost his warmth, lowering his hand to the side of the table and gently drumming with his fingers, considering his next move.
"I already know that you'll win this. I know that, one day, you will be stood by my side. One way or another."
"You're still banking on me wanting to join you at the end of all of this. The longer I'm exposed to it, the more I want to slit your fucking throat."
"Language."
"Fuck you! You're clinging to civil ideas in a fucking charnel house!"
Tom panted, finding himself short on breath. He was sure that they were putting tranqs in his food or something equally as fucked up and craven.
"I think it's time that we call it." The Velvet Man assured him, drawing a mask from his pocket.
"Same time next week?" He asked as he placed it over Tom's mouth, watching him go weak in his grip. The Velvet Man found the power that he had here so... enticing. Tom could see it in his gaze, feel it in the twitch of his hand.
The Velvet Man shrieked as a surge of power coursed through his veins. The red emergency lights did their best to illuminate the room but struggled immensely.
The constant but subtle sirens of the vault echoed around his ears as they struggled to take in sound, without an accompanying buzz or ringing.
He saw the Devil, emerging from the fiery red, his features dark and his aura struck the Velvet Man as almost unnatural. Whatever stood before him was a mere shell of the man, that he dragged in here.
"T-Thomas?" He panted, trying to move his arms, to rub his eyes but finding them to be restricted by the harshness of his leather straps.
"I... Knew... It would be... you..."
"I found your name in the records." Hamilton began, slowly pacing around the room.
"I was profoundly disappointed."
"What else did you find?" The Velvet Man winced, trying to get comfortable.
"Did any of it... The data, strike your fancy?"
"No. I burned it, without reading it."
"Wh-What?" The Velvet Man clearly didn't expect that.
"Why... Why would you do such a thing!?"
"You took everything that I was, everything that I could have been and destroyed it. You gave me new things and forced me to destroy them and you're honestly surprised that I've returned the favour?"
"You could have... You could have had this place."
"I don't want it. This place an rot and when I'm done with it, it will."
"I... I know you're upset but..."
Hamilton scoffed, cutting him off, like the guillotine, like a royal's neck.
"I don't feel a fucking thing now. I'm doing this out of necessity."
"My... People..."
"I killed them. Every last one of them. Then I destroyed the serums and the computers with the formulas on them. Leaving you and I as the last of our fucked-up kind."
To Hamilton's surprise, The Velvet Man didn't seem remotely fazed by that, if anything, he almost looked relieved. No, more than that. He felt... Proud?
There was a slight smile on his face as if he'd been relieved from watch, there was a look in his eye. A look of pride.
"Everything that you've ever worked towards has been destroyed. I'll be leaving you with a reminder of that." Hamilton began, drawing a holotape from one of the larger pockets on the cargo pants of his merc grunt outfit.
"You can listen to everything you've ever worked towards die, again and again for the next few weeks, you'll have to live."
The Velvet Man looked somewhat confused but not too fazed.
"I... Was expecting you to tear me apart... Kill me in minutes, hours, days but... weeks?"
"Nobody will be coming here again, it's a dead Vault. Only I know the password and I'll keep it with me to my grave. You're strapped down and can barely move. I'll be leaving this place and never coming back, you can listen to what I did. You can consider how worth it, it was in the end.
You'll die, eventually... A skeletal husk, a barely functional shell. You'll finally be to the world as you always were to me."
"I'd prefer you to shoot me and just get it over with."
"Which is why I won't..."
The Velvet Man gave a faint smile, eventually breaking into a faint chuckle as Hamilton approached the terminal, sliding the tape into the reader.
"You were wrong, Dear Boy. This Vault and it's people, they weren't my life's work..."
"If you say it..."
"You are. You have the strength and the courage to do what few others could. No matter what you do from here. I created you. I own you."
Hamilton just glared at him, knowing that debate was futile, his finger merely slipped over the enter key on the terminal.
"I'll leave you to gloat on your victory."
The Vault 101 Dweller turned away from the Terminal, leaving the Velvet Man to his fate.
A grim, escapable fate that would likely result in its victim going mad from boredom before dying slowly and painfully.
His hands trembled, his eyes burned and his mind was a mess of hatred and regret. His daughter's embryo haunted his mouth, clumps of his lover clogged up his finger nails, were wedged between his teeth.
This place hadn't made a man, it took a man and stripped all that made him so away and spat out a monster. A miserable creature, whose pain was known beyond all living beings.