I have used -some- actual dialogue from the game. Just so you know. Thanks for reading 1, guys!

Chapter Two - Foreign Substances

"Are you listening? Good." An old man appeared on a hologram projector. A still image cast a blue glow around the fountain it sputtered from. Cobblestone lined the ground Elvis was laying on, and the thick aroma of the ammonia cloud was present. "From now on, when I talk- Listen, and follow my instructions." Elvis's Head was throbbing. "Play stupid, play clever, make the mistake of saying "no?" that collar on your neck'll go off and take your head with it." Suddenly his neck began to feel very heavy. "Do what I say, and the collar won't go off… refuse, try and run, disobey me? I'll kill you and find someone else." Someone else.

"Someone else…" Elvis croaked, "Jordanne! Where is she? Where am I? Who are y-?"

"Quiet! I talk, and you will listen." The old man's voice sternly corrected.

"What a dick.." Elvis whispered under his breath.

"There's no escape from here until I let you go. The sooner you accept your situation, the better."

"Fine. What do you want then?"

"The Sierra Madre Casino… up on the hill. You're going to break inside and perform… a heist…" The man paused. "You'll need to avoid it's traps to get inside, and just one cannot do it alone."

"Well if I can't do it alone, where's Jordanne?"

"Around the Villa you'll find your companion, along with three others with collars like yours. Find 8, 12, 14 and 7. Bring them to the fountain and we'll talk then." Elvis wobbled up onto his feet. "And should you get any ideas, or taking the treasure for yourself and killing each other off, let me warn you; Your collars are all linked. If one dies, all of you die. If this is what it takes to make you see it my way, so be it."

"What the fuck? Why would you do that?"

"Breaking into the Sierra Madre is easier that breaking your human instinct: greed." Elvis could no longer feel his legs again. He wanted to sit back down. But he couldn't move. "The corpses you see scattered through the streets. Some killed by what you encounter, some me. The rest? Turned on each other. Once they realize the Sierra Madre can be theirs, they care nothing of their freedom, survival, or each other…"

"I can't… feel my legs." A wave of nausea flowed through his gut. His heart felt shallow; almost empty. Standing alone under a blood red cloud of horror, watching a still frame of a greedy old bastard.

"there are markers I've downloaded onto your Pip-boy, in case you get lost… Yes. I have access to that too. Get the others and I'll have more instructions." The irrelevance of the heist bounced off of his thoughts. He questioned if he'd just been hallucinating from the toxins, or if he had simply died and went to hell already. "do this…" Elvis looked up at the hologram, "I'll let all of you go."

"Fine." The sick feeling crept up the side of his spine and into his throat.

"Good. If you get lost, return here, and I'll direct you." The image of the old man disappeared and replaced with a statuesque hologram of the vixen from the poster before. The haunting female voice from before began to play in place of the man's voice.

"Fuck…" He slowly looked around, the dark Villa cast shadows all over the streets. The dim lanterns gave off an eerie glow. The only weapon he had was a heavy rifle with the rob-co brand on the neck. "A holorifle? That's it?" His neck began to perspire under the thick collar that weighed roughly around six pounds. He was wearing a mechanic jumpsuit with a red X on the front pocket, and back. He lifted his Pip-Boy and began to flip through the maps. "Collar 8 is… Dog? Collar 14 Dean Domino? Collar 12, Christine…" Collar 7 was not on the data screen. He re-scanned the perimeter. No 7. "FUCK! This is bullshit…" He quickly realized that he had no choice but to find her himself.

Elvis moved fast and quietly through the Villa with the Holorifle close to his chest. His Pip-Boy hummed to life and he could hear the man's voice broadcasting from it.

"Be careful of the Ghosts ahead. To keep them down, you have to dismember or disintegrate them."

"Careful of the what?" Before the Old one could respond, a black shadowed humanoid-creature pounced down a set of cobblestone steps, with bright glowing orbs as eyes and a gas-mask covered face. Elvis pulled up the rifle and shot it's head with perfect precision. It was still coming. Three shots to the face, still had no effect. "THIS IS BULLSHIT." He screamed, reloading as fast as he could, but not fast enough. The Ghost took a swipe at him and tore at the shoulder of the Jumpsuit. Elvis charged the rifle up and shot one last shot to the head. The ghost stopped dead in its tracks as its head rolled clean off it's shoulders and onto the cold brick streets. "This is bullshit of the highest levels. What the FUCK." the blood poured out of the neck and glowed slightly dimmer than that of a glowing one back in the wasteland, then faded into a black color. He began to feel his stomach crawl.

"Might I also warn you," The old man started

"WHAT?" Elvis screamed.

"These Ghosts… they're attracted to noise." The Pip-Boy hummed and crackled off into silence.

"Well it's about time someone woke up around here." The male voice chimed with pleasure. Jordanne's arms felt numb and her neck heavy. "Well, I wouldn't shift around too much if I were you. That seat cushion is just for show..."

"nnh..." She was slumped over in a chair, her arms tied behind her back. "What am I...? What is this?" She was sitting in a ratty cushioned chair, out-looking a dark red-clouded courtyard through a large blown out hole in the wall. If the scene didn't remind her of one of those Old World horror movies she'd watch at the lucky 38.

"Ahhh, and now we're fully conscious, let's finish our conversation with no misunderstandings."

"So, you rigged the chair with a couple of shaped charges I'm assuming..." the small box underneath the cushion felt sore against her thigh. She sat up from her slumped position and cracked her neck. "But, I'll save my questions for the end. Please, go on." She hid the fact that she was scared beyond words behind her New Vegas poker face. She knew she had no idea what was going on, but she wasn't about to lose her wits to this prick.

"Good, good. Let's keep this short and sweet." The overdressed ghoul crossed his leg. "Just because I'm an entertainer, it doesn't mean I'm a moron. I heard my necktie beeping. I figured I was brought into this somehow." His dry tounge swept across his yellow teeth, the large aviator sunglasses shielded his eyes. "I want out of this contract." Dean stood over Jordanne and peered at her grungy jumpsuit. "If I find out that you're the one who brought me into this, I'm not going to be too happy." The waft of the ammonia stung her nose, but she kept her face relaxed. "Assuming you're a part of this, whatever orders there are, you're taking them from me." Jordanne let out a small laugh and looked down at her shoes. She was in no position to be bargaining with cryptic ghoulified strangers, but Jordanne always seemed to get her way.

"Now you listen here, friend. The only orders that are being taken are mine. I bet you didn't know that I had a few tricks of my own did you?" The ghoul stared. "You see, I believe in Karma. What goes around will surely come around, and you will most definitely get yours." She stared sharply into the spaces where his eyes should be. He chuckled softly, and proceeded to backhand her across the face. Jordanne fell to the floor along with the chair and took Dean down with her by wrapping her leg around his.

"Whhuhh-!" Dean hit the floor with a loud thud, scraping off a chunk of his elbow and suit. "You little-!" He grasped her hair and pulled her to her feet holding a gun to her temple. "So you want to do this the hard way.." Dean's thumb cocked the gun back, his finger ready on the trigger with anticipation. Jordanne winced.

"Yo! Hold the fuck up."

"Elvis!" Jordanne stumbled back from Dean's grip. Elvis stood in the archway behind the two with his rifle in hand, aimed at the ghoul's head. behind him was an unusually large grey supermutant. The word 'dog' was scratched across his chest, with chains around his neck. Obediently and clumsily he stood, eyeing Dean curiously.

"Ahhh, so I see the Sierra Madre invited the both of you humans here..." Dean's voice twisted with mischief in his tone. "..and I see you brought that accident with you."

"Let her go and I'll consider leaving your limbs intact." Dean Sneered at his reply.

"Dog is getting hungry..." The mutant growled in a deep husky voice.

"Not yet, Dog. Don't let him go." Elvis said, his stare still on the Ghoul. "I'm assuming you're Dean Domino."

"So then you're the one who's calling the shots so far. Your charm of a woman and I were just discussing our future plans.

"Yeah... and the odds aren't in your favor.." Jordanne moaned, as she began to press her heel into the explosive on the floor. The box cracked. Elvis's heart nearly stopped.

"JORDANNE. NO! WAIT!" the pressure from her heel disappeared.

"Hmph. Idiot." Dean murmered as he yanked Jordanne out the hole in the wall by her hair.

"Dog!" Elvis shot into Dean's left arm as the large super mutant charged towards the hole for Jordanne, following her down the two-story drop. two distinct thuds were heard, the first sounding hollow, the second solid. Dean fell to the floor, clutching his arm.

"Sharp shooter, eh?" the ghoul's smile broadened as the barrel of the 9mm pistol was aimed right between Elvis's eyes.

"You're wondering about these collars." the air was silent. The sound of coughing and scuffling echoed slightly from the ground outside. A lump went through Elvis's throat. "One of us dies... all of us die." Dean's 9mm didn't move for a good minute.

"Well that changes everything." He reholstered his pistol and began to stand up. Elvis didn't disarm. "Well, now that you've crippled my arm, I don't suppose you would have a stimpak or two..." Elvis frowned.

"How do I know if I can trust you?"

"That's the beauty of it, eh?" He fumbled with a suitcase nearby to pull out a jar full of similar looking cloud residue. The cap twisted open in his fingers and he poured it into a nearby shot glass. "You can't trust anyone when you're all trying to pull a heist. That old man was smart to arm us with these." he tapped on the hulk of metal around his neck with the glass before raising it to his lips.

"Elvis-s..." He could hear Jordanne murmur from the outside.

"Jordanne!" Elvis nearly jumped as he ran to the hole. Jordanne's fall was broken by the body of a decapitated ghost; its blood- slightly glowing, and muscles strung from it's empty shoulder socket. Dog was eating the remaining flesh from it's leg. "Are you okay?" Her eyes opened with disdain.

"What am I lying on?" Dean's shot glass hit the table sharply after his last shot of what he had labeled 'Sierra Madre Martini'. Elvis turned back to Jordanne.

"Just let me come get you."

"Well. If we're not going to stay and chat, shall we get moving? the ghosts come in waves, you know." Dean straightened his bow tie underneath the collar and began his way down the stairs, instead of the alternative two-story jump. Elvis followed at a much more brisk pace.

"They're horrifying..." Jordanne gasped as she prodded at the internal organs with her bare fingers. she unzipped the top of her jumpsuit and fastened it around her waist. The glowing blood stained the sleeves, however sanitation seemed to be the least of anyone's concern.

"I really didn't get a chance to look at one that close... They're so fast." The body of the ghost was spread along the side of the fountain. Soft blue light came glowing from the hologram that lit the wet internal organs on the abomination. Elvis looked down her body. "How's your back?" He pointed to the large bruise that barely showed underneath her tank.

"Hmm? Oh.." Her hand swept across the fountain edge for a rusty nail she had found. "It's hard to bend over like this, but nothing too serious. Dog, could you hand me that piece of glass?" Dog was hunched over a couple feet by her side, viewing the makeshift examination process she had set up. Obediently he handed her a shard of dirty glass.

"What exactly are you doing?" Elvis leaned closer. The thing wreaked of rotting flesh, vomit and the acidic ammonia stench- a smell he was already getting used to.

"This suit of theirs... it looks like one of those construction suits, but with a couple of modifications. I'm also wondering why we need to rely heavily on decapitation to put them down. I think that maybe their organs and limbs have fused together to create one organ underneath this... uh. suit."

"Kindof like that Mirelurk we saw south of lake Mead?"

"exactly." The sharp glass broke in her hands as she tried to pry open one of the clasps. "The hazmat masks look as if they were designed to not only filter the toxins, but regulate them into the suit and intake eventually." Blood leaked onto her clothes as she winced away. "These weren't made right. Here..." She handed Elvis the shattered glass.

"The fuck? I don't want that! What's wrong with you?"

"No. HERE." among the glass was a small holotag.

"What is this?" Elvis's eyebrow twitched.

"It's kindof like an identification tag. Similar to the BoS, but for like.. Garments. I read it in a couple of those 'gay' pre-war books you brought me,"

"They are gay."

"So are you. but you don't really see these anymore, since nobody really patents clothes nowadays."

"Manufactured in Big M-T." He read.

"Anything else?"

"Shit, it's too dark. and it feels like it's corroded over anyways."

"Those were the construction workers." Dean sat at the other end of the fountain, his back turned to the small group. "They came long ago way before Elijah arrived. I don't know where, but they came right after the cloud appeared." Jordanne glanced back at the rusty nail and the small cuts oozing in her hand. "They were sent here to "clean this mess up, if you will... After time, they became more and more inhuman like because of the Cloud.

"But where did the cloud come from?" Elvis shifted his stance slightly. Dean turned around and shrugged.

"Not sure, but it's not a natural formation." Jordanne's curiosity immediately peaked.

"With your long exposure to this, shouldn't you be like one of them now?" He laughed. His shoulders relaxed at the ease of the conversation.

"I've been here long enough before it even came. It was probably a late defense mechanism for the casino that was set off. Maybe pollution from wherever you came from. But whatever it is, it's not going to go away. The ghost people will continue to drag in their victims into the cloud, and disappear." Jordanne immediately frowned at the thought of being taken away into the dark red abyss. The burning memory on her hand was enough. Parts of her skin had already began to flake off.

"Did you guys say there was a medical clinic here?"

"The pip-boy says it's East of here." Jordanne peered up at Elvis and smiled.

"I'm feeling a bit uneasy."