G
Guest
Guest
Alrighty, Here goes the second part! Like the first one, this ain't exactally wholesome stuff, so if you're offended by that kind of thing, don't read it! Enjoy! 
Aftermath
Part 2
Marcus stared at the ceiling over his bed, although it was likely he wasn’t seeing it. He had his mind on other things; namely the evenings transgressions. It was almost a blur, and he was trying to recall every second of it. Every blissful, euphoric second.
The Sheriff couldn’t recall a time he had ever felt so good, and he’d been around awhile. He wondered what Trill was feeling at the moment…was she just as amazed? From the look on her face after they had embraced, he had a hunch that she was.
Goris had fired a few questions at him after he had come to see what the yelling was about, but he couldn’t remember if he answered or not. It was really difficult to say what was going on, for some reason. Maybe because it wasn’t something he thought he’d ever say…something that no one would expect him to say.
He let a smile creep across his face again and sighed contentedly. Tomorrow looked pretty bright…it sure wouldn’t be dull.
**
Trill flicked bottle caps into one of her footlockers. She had no shortage of the damn caps ever since she went on the ‘treasure hunt’ for Typhon. Typhon. He was in trouble. However, she found that she couldn’t bring herself to be angry. The tribal didn’t know what it was that had possessed her to kiss Marcus, but she was pretty glad she did. It had proved to be a positive experience.
She yawned and rubbed her eyes. It was pretty late…and tomorrow would probably be an action packed day. Smiling to herself, Trill put the bottle caps away and tossed the bag in the corner. The tribal stretched a moment, and peeled off her tight vault suit. Although it was useful in combat (as well as situations that demanded a more…delicate approach) it was sometimes uncomfortable. Tossing it in the corner, Trill yawned again, and donned her old outfit she had worn when she was in Arroyo. It was old and dusty, but loose and comfortable. She curled up on her couch and quickly fell asleep, dreaming of the peaceful days she had as a child among her tribe.
**
Kunshan stalked silently through Broken Hills. Considering his bulky power armor, he was eerily quiet. Soon he was standing in front of Trill’s new abode. A horrific grin split his face, thankfully hidden by his helmet. Oh so quietly, he tested the knob…unlocked. Of course it was. Although the shapely mutant was tough, she was far from intelligent. Did she really think that she would be safe after destroying the Enclave?
He slowly twisted the knob and pushed the door open, deathly quiet, and stepped inside, closing the door with equal stealth. He liked what he saw.
Trill lay curled up on her couch, with nothing but straps of hide to cover her body…obviously the clothes she had worn as a savage. She looked so innocent lying there; Kunshan could almost forget what she had done…almost. She was halfway curled into a ball, her hands loose fists, her hair splayed luxuriously over the upholstery. The mutant shifted in her sleep, turning onto her back, revealing that her outfit hardly left anything to the imagination.
He stepped closer, and quietly un-slung his plasma rifle. He aimed it at her head. Did he really want to prolong his revenge? As much as he’d love for her to suffer, Kunshan was very eager to end her life. Before he could come to a conclusion, there was a knock at the door.
With uncanny speed and stealth, the Agent ducked into an adjacent room before Trill was aware of him. Carefully, he peeked around a corner. Trill answered the door…it was the super mutant Sheriff.
As he watched, the mutant put his hands on her shoulders and lowered his face to hers…they were kissing! Kunshan felt bile rise in his throat, but he choked it down. So something had happened between them after he had left. How could such a beautiful women let such a grotesque creature defile her so? He strained to hear their words after their kiss, but they were speaking in low tones.
The super mutant drew her close and hugged her tightly, and she squawked playfully in response. They kissed again, and then he left. Trill closed the door and leaned against it, her eyes closed, a small smile on her face. Kunshan was livid. How could she derive any pleasure from such a beast? Then and there, Kunshan decided that after the super mutant suffered for defiling her, he would show her what a human could offer in the ways of pleasure.
That way, she would die knowing how terribly wrong she was to kill so many true humans.
Agent Kunshan waited patiently for her to fall back asleep, and he crept out.
Soon, he thought, Very soon.
***
That morning, Zauis got up early to scout around the mine. He did once a week, just to make sure the mine wasn’t losing any structural integrity. The mine foreman was also on the alert for claim jumpers…it had almost happened a few times, re affirming the fact that his patrols were necessary.
He didn’t find anything of note until he came to a hill that overlooked the old ghouls home and Trill’s new home. At first, nothing seemed out of ordinary, until a glint caught his eye. He leaned down and was surprised to find what looked like sniper rifle rounds. Normally, Zauis wouldn’t think too much of it, but these rounds weren’t randomly dropped…they were arranged in the shape of an arrow.
A feeling of dread welled up inside him as he followed the arrow, and found himself looking right into Trill’s window.
“This is bad,” he muttered to himself, standing up and heading for Marcus’ house.
**
Marcus grumbled when he heard the knock on his door, and pulled a pillow over his head. He had slept well, but not long, and he wasn’t in the mood to get up early. Unfortunately the knock persisted, and the Sheriff could no longer ignore it.
Cursing grumpily to himself, Marcus pulled on his shirt and opened his door. Goris stood in front of him, with Zauis behind him. They both looked concerned.
“What?” he said, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“There’s something you should see,” Zauis said grimly. Goris nodded in agreement. Marcus almost told him to come back later, but the look in both their eyes told him to do otherwise. Quickly throwing on his boots, he followed them to the spot where the sniper rifle ammunition was.
Marcus looked at it and paled as he realized where it was pointing.
“What the hell?” he muttered. Zauis nodded.
“Indeed. Should we tell her?”
The Sheriff sighed and looked at Trill’s house. She had been through so much…did she really need to know someone was stalking her?
“She has a right to know,” Goris noted, stepping next to Marcus. The super mutant let out another sigh and nodded.
“Yeah, I know…still,” he trailed off. Almost on cue, the curtain covering her window slid back. She looked out, and noted the gathering up on the hill. Trill waved cheerily at them, and they somberly acknowledged her. She made a face, and left the window. Soon, she was approaching them.
“Hey guys! Why the long faces?” she asked. Zauis simply pointed to the arrow. Trill’s smile fell instantly and she went rigid.
“How long has this been here?”
“Less than a week, but I have a feeling its more recent that that.”
“So do I,” Trill said softly, leaning down to examine the bullets. She picked one of them up and examined it closely. Quickly, as if it had stung her somehow, she dropped it and swore, loudly.
“Fuck,” she said, her eyes wide.
“What?” asked Marcus, alarmed. He took a step closer to her. She bent down again, and held up one of the bullets for him to see.
“See that little emblem on the casing?” she asked. He nodded.
“Enclave,” she said simply. The word went straight to all their hearts, and weighed heavily in the air.
“Are you sure?” Goris said weakly. She nodded and dropped the bullet as if it were a poisonous snake.
“Well what the hell are we going to do?” Zauis asked, motioning to the bullets. All were quiet for a while, until finally, Marcus spoke up.
“We find this bastard and kill them,” he said menacingly, “That’s what we do.”
“I agree,” Trill said softly, her eyes transfixed by the arrow. She could almost feel it pierce her heart.
**
Soon, the whole town was in an uproar as everyone searched high and low for the rouge Enclave soldier. They had no success. Most of the day spent in vain, many residents gave up and returned to their homes, although they slept with loaded weapons nearby and kept their lights on.
While they did so, Trill and Marcus argued.
“I’m not staying here tonight, Marcus!”
“The hell you’re not!” he growled. They were practically nose to nose, and unlike the previous night, there was no sentiment involved, “Some psychopath is out to get you! You need protection!”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I can take care of myself!” she shouted, pointing at herself. In the back of her mind, she found it funny how quickly their relationship had shifted in the past 24 hours. From awkward, to passionate, to antagonistic.
He stayed silent a moment, at a momentary loss for words. Before she could fill the gap, he found his voice, “How do you know you can handle this guy? You seemed pretty damned upset when you saw the bullets. This guy’s obviously insane!”
Her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides, “Of course I’m fucking scared! I was nearly killed by the Enclave…but I came out in one piece, didn’t I?”
“That was different! It was direct combat, not this crazy covert ops shit!”
“It doesn’t matter! I can handle this. I appreciate your concern, but it’s unnecessary!”
“You are one stubborn bitch, you know that?” Marcus shouted back, regretting the words as soon as the said them, wishing he could take them back. They hung in the air, adding to the now oppressive silence that had descended. She stared at him in shock, her mouth working soundlessly. Was it just him, or did her eyes start to moisten? Before he could say anything else, she spoke up.
“Sorry you feel that way,” she said softly, turning away from him and storming out of his house. He stared after her helplessly. Goris, who had been sitting quietly in the background, approached him and tentatively reached a claw to him.
“Marcus?” he asked nervously. The mutant ignored him, and instead turned and slammed his fist into the wall, making a sizeable hole.
“Well, shit,” he muttered. Marcus turned to Goris, who had an incredibly human-looking expression of concern on his face.
“Are you alright?”
“Do I look alright?”
“Not really.”
“There you are, then.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
Marcus looked at the Deathclaw, sighed, and sat heavily on the couch, “Not much to talk about, really.”
“She’s used to being independent, Marcus…I’m not sure on what exactly went on between you two, but I’ve noticed you’ve been closer. Whatever protective instincts you have towards her, it will take her awhile to grow accustomed to them.”
Marcus turned and stared at the Deathclaw, an amused look on his face.
“What?”
“Funny how someone who isn’t human has so much insight on their behavior,” Marcus said with a smirk. Goris returned his smile with a toothy one.
“You humans aren’t as complex as you’d like to think,” Goris observed, “And as a final piece of advice…you ought to talk to her.”
Marcus smiled at his friend and nodded, clapping a hand on one of his mottled grey shoulders.
“You’re right…see you later,” said the super mutant. He headed out the door and to Trills.
Unfortunately for him, he didn’t make it.
**
Trill slammed the door of her house behind her and searched for something to take out her aggression on. Her eyes fell on her power armor, which she had retrieved from Marcus’ earlier in the day. With an aggressive kick, she sent the helmet soaring across the room. It caromed loudly of a locker and hit the floor with a dull thud.
She paced around the room, trying to calm herself down. How dare he assume that she couldn’t take care of herself? Hadn’t she survived destroying an entire organization? Hadn’t she taken out band after band of raiders and bounty hunters? She could most certainly handle one psycho…couldn’t she?
Of course I can, she thought quickly. There was no reason to suggest she couldn’t. She would just have to go back to being more alert, that was all. The thought of doing so weighed heavily on her. After the last group of Enclave soldiers, Trill was certain she would finally be able to relax and settle down for a bit. Although she was up for adventure, she had most certainly had her fill of it for the time being.
With a belated sigh, she sank down onto the couch and drew her knees up under her chin, hugging her legs. What a fine mess this is, she thought drearily, trying not to think about the heated argument she had just had with Marcus. The mere thought of it brought stinging tears to her eyes, and she wasn’t about to get so emotional with a psychotic Enclave soldier on the loose.
After a few moments of melancholy contemplation, Trill stood and began to strap on her power armor, becoming more and more claustrophobic with each piece. She hadn’t worn it for a while, and had forgotten how constricting the armor felt. After it was finally on, she went to one of her lockers, one of the ones she had actually locked.
Inside was her most treasured possession, her Gauss rifle, and the ammo for it. Although a mere month ago she would’ve been glad to see it, it seemed to glint malevolently in the light of her home. It was a gateway back to what she had begun to consider her old life. Resigned, she grimly picked it up, loaded it, and collected some of the ammo.
Trill hardly slept that night, although when her body finally remembered that she had been able to sleep in power armor in the past, it allowed her dreamless sleep.
***
Marcus had been walking quickly to Trills when he felt a sharp pain on his neck. Instinctively smacking at it, he was surprised to find something was actually sticking out of his neck. Stopping in his tracks, he pulled it out…he was holding some kind of dart.
Looking around in alarm, and cursing the fact that he had left his mini gun back in his house, he searched for his assailant. He started to head back to his house, when he realized that his limbs were very sluggish and he was having difficulty moving. Struggling to at least call out for help, the mighty mutant fell to one knee as the drug pumped through his system. As his vision began to blur, someone in power armor stepped out from the shadows and hit him in the head with the butt of his gun.
As Marcus blacked out, his last thought was of Trill.
***
Trill snapped awake suddenly, clutching her rifle and sitting up.
She had fallen asleep, she realized, and instinct had woken her up. Ignoring the increasing feeling of fatigue, the Chosen One stretched stiffly in her power armor. With a sigh, she decided she ought to go speak with Marcus. The argument was still fairly fresh in her mind, and she had a feeling that what had been said was merely in anger…certainly not it true aggression.
Looking out the window, she noted that the sun had just barely peeked over the horizon.
Suppressing a yawn, Trill opened her door and was surprised to hear a dull ‘clank’ as something hit the ground. Peaking around her door, she noted that something had fallen off. It was a vice.
At first, Trill thought it was strange that someone had clamped a vice to her doorknob…what purpose did that serve? Then, she noticed something strange about the vice. Not just metal glinted in the rising sun. A good majority of it was coated in blood.
“Oh God, no,” she whispered softly, bending to pick up the vice. It was very heavy, and it looked pretty beat up…almost like the vices that Marcus used to keep his shoulder pads together. Exactly like them, in fact, which led her to a terrible hypothesis. Marcus was dead.
The thought hit her physically and she felt suddenly weak, leaning against her door. Whoever the soldier was, she now had a terrible feeling that he had been spying on her. How else would he have known that Marcus meant something to her?
Slowly, she shifted her weight back onto her feet and shakily walked to Marcus’ house. When she arrived, she was almost afraid to open the door. What would she find?
Steeling herself, the tribal kicked open the door and pointed her rifle inside. Goris, who had been asleep on the floor, was on his feet in an instant.
“Goris?” she said in surprise, lowering the Gauss rifle a bit.
“Trill?” he replied, equally confused.
“Thank God you’re all right!” she shouted, crossing to him and hugging his neck.
“What do you mean? What’s going on?”
She held up the vice, and Goris’ nostrils flared in response to the scent of blood.
“It’s almost fresh,” he said softly, “Where was it?”
“On my doorknob. Goris, we have to find this psycho NOW.”
“Yes, I…what are you standing on?”
Trill looked down, and picked up her foot in surprise. She had been standing on a neatly folded piece of paper. Bending, she picked it up and carefully unfolded it. On it was neat handwriting and a moderately detailed hand drawn map.
“What does it say,” queried Goris.
Trill took a deep breath and read it aloud, “Trill - If you’d like to see the Sheriff, come to the location on the map with no weapons, armor, or friends. Otherwise, he’ll die before you have a chance to blink.”
“Where does he want you to meet?”
“Someplace near here…probably an old cave or something.”
“It’s obviously a trap,” Goris noted. Trill nodded.
“Yup. Well, I better get going.”
Goris stared at her in disbelief, “You’re going? Trill, that’s insane! You don’t even know if Marcus is still alive!”
“But if he is, I have to at least try, Goris,” she said softly. Goris sighed and regarded her with a sad expression.
“Please, Trill, be careful,” he said softly.
She nodded, set the map back on the floor, and jogged back to her house. As she left, Goris quickly picked the map up and studied it. He noted that he could easily find his way there, but wasn’t sure what to do. Trill could most definitely take care of herself, but he felt very uneasy about the situation. He prayed that she would be alright.
***
Slowly, Marcus regained consciousness. He groaned loudly as sharp pain assaulted him soon after. He felt like someone had hit him repeatedly in the head with a hammer, and then dragged him over jagged rocks. He tried opening his eyes, and noted that only one was open. Judging from the throbbing dull pain, the other was swelled shut. The super mutant moved to check his wounds and found that he couldn’t. Startled, he strained his arms, but to no avail. He was restrained.
As his eyes adjusted to the semi darkness he could make out the form of someone in power armor.
“Trill?” he called out hoarsely, hopefully.
Marcus was extremely disoriented. The person in power armor approached him, lowering their masked face to his.
“No,” the man said simply. Slowly, Marcus remembered what happened.
“You’re that psycho,” he said, more to himself than the Enclave soldier. The soldier chuckled at him.
“I would hardly call myself psychotic,” he said. His voice was very business like, almost cheerful, and he spoke with perfect English.
Marcus frowned at him.
“Stalking tribals is perfectly normal behavior, then?”
The man struck him across the face with his armored hand, “Shut up, mutant. Trill is no tribal…she’s a monster!”
Marcus almost chuckled in spite of his comment, but thought better of it. The human was stronger than most, that was for sure. He could feel blood flow sluggishly from his nose from the blow the soldier had struck moments ago.
“She is responsible for the end of the human race,” he sneered at the super mutant. Marcus didn’t reply, and simply glared balefully at him.
“Who the hell are you, anyway?” Marcus finally said. The solider regarded him for a moment, and then laughed.
“Since you’ll be dead soon, anyway, it couldn’t hurt. I’m Agent Kunshan,” he said. If the super mutant recognized his name, it didn’t show. Something beeped on Kunshan’s person, and he quickly shut it off.
“Well, look who showed up,” Kunshan said to himself. Before Marcus could react, Kunshan tied an uncomfortably tight gag around his mouth. Thanks to the Agents earlier blow to his nose, he could barely breath. Satisfied with his work, Kunshan walked silently towards the mouth of the cave.
**
Trill approached the mouth of the cave nervously. What did this man have in mind? Would he simply snipe at her? Or would he put up a fight? Either way, Trill felt helpless. She had never gotten into hand to hand combat, and relied solely on weapons to do her dirty work. Even worse, she wasn’t wearing any armor…only her vault jumpsuit stood between her and certain death.
The only thing that reassured her was the cold metal of a combat knife against her skin, hidden at the base of her neck, concealed by her hair. She prayed it would be enough.
Finally, she found the courage to step into the cave. After a few paces she stopped and allowed her eyes to adjust to the dim light. She noticed a motion sensor on the wall, and frowned. He had obviously prepared for her arrival. Trill yanked it off the cavern wall and smashed it under her heel, knowing that it was probably the closest would get to hurting the psycho.
Distracted with destroying the motion sensor, Trill gasped as she felt something impact the back of her legs. She fell to the ground, barely catching herself and spinning around. Before her stood a man in power armor, clutching the muzzle of his sniper rifle. She chanced a glance up and noted a small ledge. Trill cursed her carelessness. Of course he would’ve been waiting for her.
“Not so tough without your stolen armor, are you, mutant bitch?” the man hissed, spinning the rifle around so that the business end pointed at her.
She stiffened, and tried to ignore the sharp pain in her legs. Moving them slightly, she ascertained that although they hurt like hell, they weren’t broken. She could still run.
Motioning for her to stand with the sniper rifle, he took a few steps closer.
No need for him to know that she could still move. Trill pretended to struggle for a moment, until he grabbed her roughly by the arm and dragged her forward. They went a ways into the cave until the light was almost completely shut out. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out a large, prone figure on the ground, and she recognized it immediately.
“Marcus!” she shouted, her voice filled with relief. The man shoved her to the ground, and lit a florescent lantern. She gasped as she saw the condition Marcus was in, and did her best to restrain the urge to go to him. The soldier laughed nastily, and put his hand under Marcus’ chin, forcing his head up, keeping the rifle trained on Trill.
Marcus met her eyes, his own wild with anger and fear.
“Isn’t she pretty?” Kunshan hissed in Marcus’ ear, “So pretty, you could just eat her?” Marcus struggled violently against his bonds.
While the lunatic was distracted, Trill quickly drew the combat knife and went for a spot she knew there was a gap in power armor…right where the chest plate met the torso. Instead of a hearing the satisfying noise of the knife going home as she stabbed him, however, she heard merely a clang of metal against a metal…he had customized his armor.
The man laughed, and grabbed her, and threw her to the ground again.
“Stupid tribal whore,” he hissed, “I told you not to bring a weapon!”
He viciously kicked Marcus in the stomach, who curled up in response to the pain.
“Please,” she begged, “Don’t kill him.”
“I’ll kill him alright,” he assured her, “Although you won’t see him die.”
Marcus tried to say something through his gag, but it came out as gibberish. Kunshan kicked him again, and then approached Trill, pressing the muzzle of the sniper rifle to her neck.
“So very beautiful,” he said nastily, “Too bad you’re a mutant.”
He caressed her face with his free hand. Trill snarled ferally and spat at him.
“You’re seriously fucked in the head, pal,” she growled. Agent Kunshan didn’t seem to amused by her gesture, and pressed the muzzle painfully into her neck, causing her to arch away from it as best she could. He bent down close to her, and she thought she could see his eyes through the yellow glass of the helmet’s eyeholes.
“You eliminated the human race. You’re responsible for genocide. And even worse, you’ve been intimate with that thing,” he motioned to Marcus disdainfully, “And you think that I’m fucked in the head?”
“I didn’t eliminate the human race! I’m human! So is almost everyone else on this planet. And Marcus isn’t a thing!” Trill protested. Kunshan laughed uproariously at her.
“Typical mutant response,” he observed smugly, “But I know better.”
He regarded her for a while, and she began to feel uncomfortable under his scrutiny. What the hell was he going to do? Trill wished he would and get it over with.
“Before you die, I think it would be fitting if you were purged of that monsters taint,” Kunshan said finally.
Trill paled a bit, and hoped it wasn’t noticeable in the harsh light of the florescent lantern. She had understood his meaning all to well.
Marcus apparently had, too. He began to struggle again, muffled shouts filtering through his gag.
With his free hand, the soldier slowly began to unzip her jumpsuit. Desperate, she batted at his hand and tried to back away. She was rewarded with the butt of his rifle connecting with her skull, and she nearly passed out from the impact. Barely awake, Trill watched in horror as he unzipped her jumpsuit to her waist, where the zipper stopped, and pulled the clothing away, revealing her breasts.
Everything seemed to be very distant, and she tried to struggle, but found that her body wasn’t listening to her at the moment. The foul man put his hands on one of her breasts and rubbed it roughly. Although the action might’ve been pleasurable in another situation, Trill felt like she might vomit. Even in her semi-conscious state, she stiffened. Kunshan interpreted it as pleasure and persisted, and still managed to keep the pressure of the rifle on her neck.
Slowly, he traced a finger over her curves, the cold metal of hi armor harsh against her warm flesh. Trill shied away from his touch the best she could, but to no avail. He traced his finger down her belly and stopped just above her crotch. Time seemed to be passing at an agonizingly slow rate, and Trill wished she could just die. Suffering such humiliation at the hands of this horrible man was something she couldn’t bear. Being helpless was something she wasn’t used too, and fear slowly began to take over.
Please, she begged silently to anyone who might be listening, Don’t let it end like this.
“Now,” Kunshan said huskily, “To purge you of your evils.”
“Purge this!” yelled a familiar voice. Human, tribal, and super mutant looked up in surprise. Before any of them could react, a large figure slammed into Kunshan, knocking his rifle from his hand.
Somewhat regaining her awareness, Trill recognized Goris. He had followed her!
The enraged Deathclaw knocked off the man’s helmet and snapped at his head. Kunshan barely dodged, and struggled to throw Goris off. Although he was strong, he was no match for the Deathclaw’s inhuman power.
“Burn in whatever Hell you humans believe in!” howled Goris. The Deathclaw raked his claws over the soldier, tearing through the armor like it was paper. Kunshan screamed in agony, but struggled even more fiercely than before. His actions were futile, however, as Goris stabbed his claws into the Enclave soldiers throat. The Deathclaw stepped away, breathing harshly, and watched Kunshan’s life bleed away.
Unable to speak, his trachea ravaged, Kunshan looked at Goris in disbelief as he died. The Deathclaw’s horrific face escorted the man’s twisted soul to hell.
Sure that he was dead, Goris turned quickly too cut Marcus’ bonds, and they both went to Trill, who had sat up and zipped her jumpsuit back up.
Marcus drew her into his arms and closed his eyes, “Thank God you’re all right.”
She hugged him back, “Back at ya.”
Goris eyed them both with concern.
“Are you two going to be able to make it back?” he asked. Marcus looked like he’d been to hell and back, and Trill looked no better.
Marcus stood shakily, but nodded.
“I feel like shit, but I can make it back to town,” he muttered, tenderly touching his battered face. Trill stood as well, and smiled at Goris.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said, heading for the surface. Goris and Marcus gratefully followed.
***
That night, Trill found she couldn’t sleep. When they had returned to town, they had found Lenny waiting. He had fussed over their wounds and sent them home, informing Trill of Sulik’s death. Word of his demise had reached Gecko, and he had rushed home to tell her.
Marcus had asked her if she wanted to stay over, but she politely refused, saying that she needed a little time alone. Not wanting to risk another explosive argument, Marcus had reluctantly agreed. She had left with a wave, promising to stop by the next day.
And think she did. She had taken at least three showers, but somehow Trill could still feel Kunshan’s touch on her body. It made her skin crawl, and made her feel sick, and she wished she could somehow rid herself of it. If it hadn’t been for Goris…she shuddered to think what else the terrible man would’ve done before he finally killed her.
Curled up on the couch, Trill hugged herself, and fought back the tears that had been threatening since she had found Marcus’ bloody vice on her doorknob. Could she ever let her guard down? Was she destined to be ever vigilant against psychotic vigilantes?
She hugged herself tighter and let out an almost indiscernible sigh.
Someone knocked tentatively on her door, and she managed to mutter ‘go away’ before turning over and pressing her body into the couch. The knocking stopped for a moment, and then she heard the door open. She recognized Marcus’ heavy tread as he shut the door and approached her. A gentle hand touched her back.
“You’ll have to talk about it sooner or later,” he said softly, “It won’t do you any good to pretend that you’re fine.”
Trill sat up and faced him. He sat next to her, a sympathetic look on his face. She looked into his eyes, and saw the compassion in his expression. The tribal began to think that maybe there were times she could let her guard down. Maybe she would have to be a little on edge, but not completely.
He smiled at her, and she felt as if a dam had broken inside her. She leaned into Marcus and sobbed loudly, shaking, clutching at him desperately. He held her tightly while she cried, not saying a word, letting her release her frustrations. Trill felt overwhelmed as memories came flooding back to her. Her village being razed. All the people she had murdered in Navarro. The horrible discussion with the President on the oil rig. Her nearly fatal battle with Frank Horrigan. Agent Kunshan.
After an indeterminable amount of time, she quieted, feeling somehow lighter. She supposed it shouldn’t have been much of a surprise, seeing as she had been pushing her emotions to the back burner ever since her fateful quest for the G.E.C.K. Nevertheless, it was a strange, but refreshing feeling.
Marcus stroked her hair and she looked up at him. He smiled down at her.
“Thanks,” she said, “I…I really needed that.”
“I figured,” he said evenly.
“You did, huh? Are you sure a certain Deathclaw didn’t suggest you come see me?”
Marcus stared at her in shock, his brow furrowing in confusion.
Trill smiled and shook her head at him, “I’m just teasing you!”
An expression of relief took over his perplexed one, and he ruffled her hair.
“You’re something else, you know that?”
She smiled at him and nodded, and leaned close to him, so that they were nose to nose. Marcus leaned closer, but she stopped suddenly, and looked out the window. As she suspected, many of the ghouls were pressed against their windows, watching. Trill made a face at them and slid the curtain shut, resulting in much booing from the old ghouls home.
“There,” she said triumphantly, turning back to Marcus, “Now we can have some privacy.”
“What would we need privacy for?” Marcus asked, feigning ignorance. She gave him a look and he chuckled.
Super Mutant and tribal made the most of their privacy while Typhon got an earful from his fellow ghouls.
Broken Hills had returned to it’s normal temperament, or at least, as normal as Broken Hills could get.
To Be Continued…?
Well, I can either stop here or keep going! I can do it either way, what do you guys think?
-Slinky Avenger
Aftermath
Part 2
Marcus stared at the ceiling over his bed, although it was likely he wasn’t seeing it. He had his mind on other things; namely the evenings transgressions. It was almost a blur, and he was trying to recall every second of it. Every blissful, euphoric second.
The Sheriff couldn’t recall a time he had ever felt so good, and he’d been around awhile. He wondered what Trill was feeling at the moment…was she just as amazed? From the look on her face after they had embraced, he had a hunch that she was.
Goris had fired a few questions at him after he had come to see what the yelling was about, but he couldn’t remember if he answered or not. It was really difficult to say what was going on, for some reason. Maybe because it wasn’t something he thought he’d ever say…something that no one would expect him to say.
He let a smile creep across his face again and sighed contentedly. Tomorrow looked pretty bright…it sure wouldn’t be dull.
**
Trill flicked bottle caps into one of her footlockers. She had no shortage of the damn caps ever since she went on the ‘treasure hunt’ for Typhon. Typhon. He was in trouble. However, she found that she couldn’t bring herself to be angry. The tribal didn’t know what it was that had possessed her to kiss Marcus, but she was pretty glad she did. It had proved to be a positive experience.
She yawned and rubbed her eyes. It was pretty late…and tomorrow would probably be an action packed day. Smiling to herself, Trill put the bottle caps away and tossed the bag in the corner. The tribal stretched a moment, and peeled off her tight vault suit. Although it was useful in combat (as well as situations that demanded a more…delicate approach) it was sometimes uncomfortable. Tossing it in the corner, Trill yawned again, and donned her old outfit she had worn when she was in Arroyo. It was old and dusty, but loose and comfortable. She curled up on her couch and quickly fell asleep, dreaming of the peaceful days she had as a child among her tribe.
**
Kunshan stalked silently through Broken Hills. Considering his bulky power armor, he was eerily quiet. Soon he was standing in front of Trill’s new abode. A horrific grin split his face, thankfully hidden by his helmet. Oh so quietly, he tested the knob…unlocked. Of course it was. Although the shapely mutant was tough, she was far from intelligent. Did she really think that she would be safe after destroying the Enclave?
He slowly twisted the knob and pushed the door open, deathly quiet, and stepped inside, closing the door with equal stealth. He liked what he saw.
Trill lay curled up on her couch, with nothing but straps of hide to cover her body…obviously the clothes she had worn as a savage. She looked so innocent lying there; Kunshan could almost forget what she had done…almost. She was halfway curled into a ball, her hands loose fists, her hair splayed luxuriously over the upholstery. The mutant shifted in her sleep, turning onto her back, revealing that her outfit hardly left anything to the imagination.
He stepped closer, and quietly un-slung his plasma rifle. He aimed it at her head. Did he really want to prolong his revenge? As much as he’d love for her to suffer, Kunshan was very eager to end her life. Before he could come to a conclusion, there was a knock at the door.
With uncanny speed and stealth, the Agent ducked into an adjacent room before Trill was aware of him. Carefully, he peeked around a corner. Trill answered the door…it was the super mutant Sheriff.
As he watched, the mutant put his hands on her shoulders and lowered his face to hers…they were kissing! Kunshan felt bile rise in his throat, but he choked it down. So something had happened between them after he had left. How could such a beautiful women let such a grotesque creature defile her so? He strained to hear their words after their kiss, but they were speaking in low tones.
The super mutant drew her close and hugged her tightly, and she squawked playfully in response. They kissed again, and then he left. Trill closed the door and leaned against it, her eyes closed, a small smile on her face. Kunshan was livid. How could she derive any pleasure from such a beast? Then and there, Kunshan decided that after the super mutant suffered for defiling her, he would show her what a human could offer in the ways of pleasure.
That way, she would die knowing how terribly wrong she was to kill so many true humans.
Agent Kunshan waited patiently for her to fall back asleep, and he crept out.
Soon, he thought, Very soon.
***
That morning, Zauis got up early to scout around the mine. He did once a week, just to make sure the mine wasn’t losing any structural integrity. The mine foreman was also on the alert for claim jumpers…it had almost happened a few times, re affirming the fact that his patrols were necessary.
He didn’t find anything of note until he came to a hill that overlooked the old ghouls home and Trill’s new home. At first, nothing seemed out of ordinary, until a glint caught his eye. He leaned down and was surprised to find what looked like sniper rifle rounds. Normally, Zauis wouldn’t think too much of it, but these rounds weren’t randomly dropped…they were arranged in the shape of an arrow.
A feeling of dread welled up inside him as he followed the arrow, and found himself looking right into Trill’s window.
“This is bad,” he muttered to himself, standing up and heading for Marcus’ house.
**
Marcus grumbled when he heard the knock on his door, and pulled a pillow over his head. He had slept well, but not long, and he wasn’t in the mood to get up early. Unfortunately the knock persisted, and the Sheriff could no longer ignore it.
Cursing grumpily to himself, Marcus pulled on his shirt and opened his door. Goris stood in front of him, with Zauis behind him. They both looked concerned.
“What?” he said, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“There’s something you should see,” Zauis said grimly. Goris nodded in agreement. Marcus almost told him to come back later, but the look in both their eyes told him to do otherwise. Quickly throwing on his boots, he followed them to the spot where the sniper rifle ammunition was.
Marcus looked at it and paled as he realized where it was pointing.
“What the hell?” he muttered. Zauis nodded.
“Indeed. Should we tell her?”
The Sheriff sighed and looked at Trill’s house. She had been through so much…did she really need to know someone was stalking her?
“She has a right to know,” Goris noted, stepping next to Marcus. The super mutant let out another sigh and nodded.
“Yeah, I know…still,” he trailed off. Almost on cue, the curtain covering her window slid back. She looked out, and noted the gathering up on the hill. Trill waved cheerily at them, and they somberly acknowledged her. She made a face, and left the window. Soon, she was approaching them.
“Hey guys! Why the long faces?” she asked. Zauis simply pointed to the arrow. Trill’s smile fell instantly and she went rigid.
“How long has this been here?”
“Less than a week, but I have a feeling its more recent that that.”
“So do I,” Trill said softly, leaning down to examine the bullets. She picked one of them up and examined it closely. Quickly, as if it had stung her somehow, she dropped it and swore, loudly.
“Fuck,” she said, her eyes wide.
“What?” asked Marcus, alarmed. He took a step closer to her. She bent down again, and held up one of the bullets for him to see.
“See that little emblem on the casing?” she asked. He nodded.
“Enclave,” she said simply. The word went straight to all their hearts, and weighed heavily in the air.
“Are you sure?” Goris said weakly. She nodded and dropped the bullet as if it were a poisonous snake.
“Well what the hell are we going to do?” Zauis asked, motioning to the bullets. All were quiet for a while, until finally, Marcus spoke up.
“We find this bastard and kill them,” he said menacingly, “That’s what we do.”
“I agree,” Trill said softly, her eyes transfixed by the arrow. She could almost feel it pierce her heart.
**
Soon, the whole town was in an uproar as everyone searched high and low for the rouge Enclave soldier. They had no success. Most of the day spent in vain, many residents gave up and returned to their homes, although they slept with loaded weapons nearby and kept their lights on.
While they did so, Trill and Marcus argued.
“I’m not staying here tonight, Marcus!”
“The hell you’re not!” he growled. They were practically nose to nose, and unlike the previous night, there was no sentiment involved, “Some psychopath is out to get you! You need protection!”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I can take care of myself!” she shouted, pointing at herself. In the back of her mind, she found it funny how quickly their relationship had shifted in the past 24 hours. From awkward, to passionate, to antagonistic.
He stayed silent a moment, at a momentary loss for words. Before she could fill the gap, he found his voice, “How do you know you can handle this guy? You seemed pretty damned upset when you saw the bullets. This guy’s obviously insane!”
Her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides, “Of course I’m fucking scared! I was nearly killed by the Enclave…but I came out in one piece, didn’t I?”
“That was different! It was direct combat, not this crazy covert ops shit!”
“It doesn’t matter! I can handle this. I appreciate your concern, but it’s unnecessary!”
“You are one stubborn bitch, you know that?” Marcus shouted back, regretting the words as soon as the said them, wishing he could take them back. They hung in the air, adding to the now oppressive silence that had descended. She stared at him in shock, her mouth working soundlessly. Was it just him, or did her eyes start to moisten? Before he could say anything else, she spoke up.
“Sorry you feel that way,” she said softly, turning away from him and storming out of his house. He stared after her helplessly. Goris, who had been sitting quietly in the background, approached him and tentatively reached a claw to him.
“Marcus?” he asked nervously. The mutant ignored him, and instead turned and slammed his fist into the wall, making a sizeable hole.
“Well, shit,” he muttered. Marcus turned to Goris, who had an incredibly human-looking expression of concern on his face.
“Are you alright?”
“Do I look alright?”
“Not really.”
“There you are, then.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
Marcus looked at the Deathclaw, sighed, and sat heavily on the couch, “Not much to talk about, really.”
“She’s used to being independent, Marcus…I’m not sure on what exactly went on between you two, but I’ve noticed you’ve been closer. Whatever protective instincts you have towards her, it will take her awhile to grow accustomed to them.”
Marcus turned and stared at the Deathclaw, an amused look on his face.
“What?”
“Funny how someone who isn’t human has so much insight on their behavior,” Marcus said with a smirk. Goris returned his smile with a toothy one.
“You humans aren’t as complex as you’d like to think,” Goris observed, “And as a final piece of advice…you ought to talk to her.”
Marcus smiled at his friend and nodded, clapping a hand on one of his mottled grey shoulders.
“You’re right…see you later,” said the super mutant. He headed out the door and to Trills.
Unfortunately for him, he didn’t make it.
**
Trill slammed the door of her house behind her and searched for something to take out her aggression on. Her eyes fell on her power armor, which she had retrieved from Marcus’ earlier in the day. With an aggressive kick, she sent the helmet soaring across the room. It caromed loudly of a locker and hit the floor with a dull thud.
She paced around the room, trying to calm herself down. How dare he assume that she couldn’t take care of herself? Hadn’t she survived destroying an entire organization? Hadn’t she taken out band after band of raiders and bounty hunters? She could most certainly handle one psycho…couldn’t she?
Of course I can, she thought quickly. There was no reason to suggest she couldn’t. She would just have to go back to being more alert, that was all. The thought of doing so weighed heavily on her. After the last group of Enclave soldiers, Trill was certain she would finally be able to relax and settle down for a bit. Although she was up for adventure, she had most certainly had her fill of it for the time being.
With a belated sigh, she sank down onto the couch and drew her knees up under her chin, hugging her legs. What a fine mess this is, she thought drearily, trying not to think about the heated argument she had just had with Marcus. The mere thought of it brought stinging tears to her eyes, and she wasn’t about to get so emotional with a psychotic Enclave soldier on the loose.
After a few moments of melancholy contemplation, Trill stood and began to strap on her power armor, becoming more and more claustrophobic with each piece. She hadn’t worn it for a while, and had forgotten how constricting the armor felt. After it was finally on, she went to one of her lockers, one of the ones she had actually locked.
Inside was her most treasured possession, her Gauss rifle, and the ammo for it. Although a mere month ago she would’ve been glad to see it, it seemed to glint malevolently in the light of her home. It was a gateway back to what she had begun to consider her old life. Resigned, she grimly picked it up, loaded it, and collected some of the ammo.
Trill hardly slept that night, although when her body finally remembered that she had been able to sleep in power armor in the past, it allowed her dreamless sleep.
***
Marcus had been walking quickly to Trills when he felt a sharp pain on his neck. Instinctively smacking at it, he was surprised to find something was actually sticking out of his neck. Stopping in his tracks, he pulled it out…he was holding some kind of dart.
Looking around in alarm, and cursing the fact that he had left his mini gun back in his house, he searched for his assailant. He started to head back to his house, when he realized that his limbs were very sluggish and he was having difficulty moving. Struggling to at least call out for help, the mighty mutant fell to one knee as the drug pumped through his system. As his vision began to blur, someone in power armor stepped out from the shadows and hit him in the head with the butt of his gun.
As Marcus blacked out, his last thought was of Trill.
***
Trill snapped awake suddenly, clutching her rifle and sitting up.
She had fallen asleep, she realized, and instinct had woken her up. Ignoring the increasing feeling of fatigue, the Chosen One stretched stiffly in her power armor. With a sigh, she decided she ought to go speak with Marcus. The argument was still fairly fresh in her mind, and she had a feeling that what had been said was merely in anger…certainly not it true aggression.
Looking out the window, she noted that the sun had just barely peeked over the horizon.
Suppressing a yawn, Trill opened her door and was surprised to hear a dull ‘clank’ as something hit the ground. Peaking around her door, she noted that something had fallen off. It was a vice.
At first, Trill thought it was strange that someone had clamped a vice to her doorknob…what purpose did that serve? Then, she noticed something strange about the vice. Not just metal glinted in the rising sun. A good majority of it was coated in blood.
“Oh God, no,” she whispered softly, bending to pick up the vice. It was very heavy, and it looked pretty beat up…almost like the vices that Marcus used to keep his shoulder pads together. Exactly like them, in fact, which led her to a terrible hypothesis. Marcus was dead.
The thought hit her physically and she felt suddenly weak, leaning against her door. Whoever the soldier was, she now had a terrible feeling that he had been spying on her. How else would he have known that Marcus meant something to her?
Slowly, she shifted her weight back onto her feet and shakily walked to Marcus’ house. When she arrived, she was almost afraid to open the door. What would she find?
Steeling herself, the tribal kicked open the door and pointed her rifle inside. Goris, who had been asleep on the floor, was on his feet in an instant.
“Goris?” she said in surprise, lowering the Gauss rifle a bit.
“Trill?” he replied, equally confused.
“Thank God you’re all right!” she shouted, crossing to him and hugging his neck.
“What do you mean? What’s going on?”
She held up the vice, and Goris’ nostrils flared in response to the scent of blood.
“It’s almost fresh,” he said softly, “Where was it?”
“On my doorknob. Goris, we have to find this psycho NOW.”
“Yes, I…what are you standing on?”
Trill looked down, and picked up her foot in surprise. She had been standing on a neatly folded piece of paper. Bending, she picked it up and carefully unfolded it. On it was neat handwriting and a moderately detailed hand drawn map.
“What does it say,” queried Goris.
Trill took a deep breath and read it aloud, “Trill - If you’d like to see the Sheriff, come to the location on the map with no weapons, armor, or friends. Otherwise, he’ll die before you have a chance to blink.”
“Where does he want you to meet?”
“Someplace near here…probably an old cave or something.”
“It’s obviously a trap,” Goris noted. Trill nodded.
“Yup. Well, I better get going.”
Goris stared at her in disbelief, “You’re going? Trill, that’s insane! You don’t even know if Marcus is still alive!”
“But if he is, I have to at least try, Goris,” she said softly. Goris sighed and regarded her with a sad expression.
“Please, Trill, be careful,” he said softly.
She nodded, set the map back on the floor, and jogged back to her house. As she left, Goris quickly picked the map up and studied it. He noted that he could easily find his way there, but wasn’t sure what to do. Trill could most definitely take care of herself, but he felt very uneasy about the situation. He prayed that she would be alright.
***
Slowly, Marcus regained consciousness. He groaned loudly as sharp pain assaulted him soon after. He felt like someone had hit him repeatedly in the head with a hammer, and then dragged him over jagged rocks. He tried opening his eyes, and noted that only one was open. Judging from the throbbing dull pain, the other was swelled shut. The super mutant moved to check his wounds and found that he couldn’t. Startled, he strained his arms, but to no avail. He was restrained.
As his eyes adjusted to the semi darkness he could make out the form of someone in power armor.
“Trill?” he called out hoarsely, hopefully.
Marcus was extremely disoriented. The person in power armor approached him, lowering their masked face to his.
“No,” the man said simply. Slowly, Marcus remembered what happened.
“You’re that psycho,” he said, more to himself than the Enclave soldier. The soldier chuckled at him.
“I would hardly call myself psychotic,” he said. His voice was very business like, almost cheerful, and he spoke with perfect English.
Marcus frowned at him.
“Stalking tribals is perfectly normal behavior, then?”
The man struck him across the face with his armored hand, “Shut up, mutant. Trill is no tribal…she’s a monster!”
Marcus almost chuckled in spite of his comment, but thought better of it. The human was stronger than most, that was for sure. He could feel blood flow sluggishly from his nose from the blow the soldier had struck moments ago.
“She is responsible for the end of the human race,” he sneered at the super mutant. Marcus didn’t reply, and simply glared balefully at him.
“Who the hell are you, anyway?” Marcus finally said. The solider regarded him for a moment, and then laughed.
“Since you’ll be dead soon, anyway, it couldn’t hurt. I’m Agent Kunshan,” he said. If the super mutant recognized his name, it didn’t show. Something beeped on Kunshan’s person, and he quickly shut it off.
“Well, look who showed up,” Kunshan said to himself. Before Marcus could react, Kunshan tied an uncomfortably tight gag around his mouth. Thanks to the Agents earlier blow to his nose, he could barely breath. Satisfied with his work, Kunshan walked silently towards the mouth of the cave.
**
Trill approached the mouth of the cave nervously. What did this man have in mind? Would he simply snipe at her? Or would he put up a fight? Either way, Trill felt helpless. She had never gotten into hand to hand combat, and relied solely on weapons to do her dirty work. Even worse, she wasn’t wearing any armor…only her vault jumpsuit stood between her and certain death.
The only thing that reassured her was the cold metal of a combat knife against her skin, hidden at the base of her neck, concealed by her hair. She prayed it would be enough.
Finally, she found the courage to step into the cave. After a few paces she stopped and allowed her eyes to adjust to the dim light. She noticed a motion sensor on the wall, and frowned. He had obviously prepared for her arrival. Trill yanked it off the cavern wall and smashed it under her heel, knowing that it was probably the closest would get to hurting the psycho.
Distracted with destroying the motion sensor, Trill gasped as she felt something impact the back of her legs. She fell to the ground, barely catching herself and spinning around. Before her stood a man in power armor, clutching the muzzle of his sniper rifle. She chanced a glance up and noted a small ledge. Trill cursed her carelessness. Of course he would’ve been waiting for her.
“Not so tough without your stolen armor, are you, mutant bitch?” the man hissed, spinning the rifle around so that the business end pointed at her.
She stiffened, and tried to ignore the sharp pain in her legs. Moving them slightly, she ascertained that although they hurt like hell, they weren’t broken. She could still run.
Motioning for her to stand with the sniper rifle, he took a few steps closer.
No need for him to know that she could still move. Trill pretended to struggle for a moment, until he grabbed her roughly by the arm and dragged her forward. They went a ways into the cave until the light was almost completely shut out. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out a large, prone figure on the ground, and she recognized it immediately.
“Marcus!” she shouted, her voice filled with relief. The man shoved her to the ground, and lit a florescent lantern. She gasped as she saw the condition Marcus was in, and did her best to restrain the urge to go to him. The soldier laughed nastily, and put his hand under Marcus’ chin, forcing his head up, keeping the rifle trained on Trill.
Marcus met her eyes, his own wild with anger and fear.
“Isn’t she pretty?” Kunshan hissed in Marcus’ ear, “So pretty, you could just eat her?” Marcus struggled violently against his bonds.
While the lunatic was distracted, Trill quickly drew the combat knife and went for a spot she knew there was a gap in power armor…right where the chest plate met the torso. Instead of a hearing the satisfying noise of the knife going home as she stabbed him, however, she heard merely a clang of metal against a metal…he had customized his armor.
The man laughed, and grabbed her, and threw her to the ground again.
“Stupid tribal whore,” he hissed, “I told you not to bring a weapon!”
He viciously kicked Marcus in the stomach, who curled up in response to the pain.
“Please,” she begged, “Don’t kill him.”
“I’ll kill him alright,” he assured her, “Although you won’t see him die.”
Marcus tried to say something through his gag, but it came out as gibberish. Kunshan kicked him again, and then approached Trill, pressing the muzzle of the sniper rifle to her neck.
“So very beautiful,” he said nastily, “Too bad you’re a mutant.”
He caressed her face with his free hand. Trill snarled ferally and spat at him.
“You’re seriously fucked in the head, pal,” she growled. Agent Kunshan didn’t seem to amused by her gesture, and pressed the muzzle painfully into her neck, causing her to arch away from it as best she could. He bent down close to her, and she thought she could see his eyes through the yellow glass of the helmet’s eyeholes.
“You eliminated the human race. You’re responsible for genocide. And even worse, you’ve been intimate with that thing,” he motioned to Marcus disdainfully, “And you think that I’m fucked in the head?”
“I didn’t eliminate the human race! I’m human! So is almost everyone else on this planet. And Marcus isn’t a thing!” Trill protested. Kunshan laughed uproariously at her.
“Typical mutant response,” he observed smugly, “But I know better.”
He regarded her for a while, and she began to feel uncomfortable under his scrutiny. What the hell was he going to do? Trill wished he would and get it over with.
“Before you die, I think it would be fitting if you were purged of that monsters taint,” Kunshan said finally.
Trill paled a bit, and hoped it wasn’t noticeable in the harsh light of the florescent lantern. She had understood his meaning all to well.
Marcus apparently had, too. He began to struggle again, muffled shouts filtering through his gag.
With his free hand, the soldier slowly began to unzip her jumpsuit. Desperate, she batted at his hand and tried to back away. She was rewarded with the butt of his rifle connecting with her skull, and she nearly passed out from the impact. Barely awake, Trill watched in horror as he unzipped her jumpsuit to her waist, where the zipper stopped, and pulled the clothing away, revealing her breasts.
Everything seemed to be very distant, and she tried to struggle, but found that her body wasn’t listening to her at the moment. The foul man put his hands on one of her breasts and rubbed it roughly. Although the action might’ve been pleasurable in another situation, Trill felt like she might vomit. Even in her semi-conscious state, she stiffened. Kunshan interpreted it as pleasure and persisted, and still managed to keep the pressure of the rifle on her neck.
Slowly, he traced a finger over her curves, the cold metal of hi armor harsh against her warm flesh. Trill shied away from his touch the best she could, but to no avail. He traced his finger down her belly and stopped just above her crotch. Time seemed to be passing at an agonizingly slow rate, and Trill wished she could just die. Suffering such humiliation at the hands of this horrible man was something she couldn’t bear. Being helpless was something she wasn’t used too, and fear slowly began to take over.
Please, she begged silently to anyone who might be listening, Don’t let it end like this.
“Now,” Kunshan said huskily, “To purge you of your evils.”
“Purge this!” yelled a familiar voice. Human, tribal, and super mutant looked up in surprise. Before any of them could react, a large figure slammed into Kunshan, knocking his rifle from his hand.
Somewhat regaining her awareness, Trill recognized Goris. He had followed her!
The enraged Deathclaw knocked off the man’s helmet and snapped at his head. Kunshan barely dodged, and struggled to throw Goris off. Although he was strong, he was no match for the Deathclaw’s inhuman power.
“Burn in whatever Hell you humans believe in!” howled Goris. The Deathclaw raked his claws over the soldier, tearing through the armor like it was paper. Kunshan screamed in agony, but struggled even more fiercely than before. His actions were futile, however, as Goris stabbed his claws into the Enclave soldiers throat. The Deathclaw stepped away, breathing harshly, and watched Kunshan’s life bleed away.
Unable to speak, his trachea ravaged, Kunshan looked at Goris in disbelief as he died. The Deathclaw’s horrific face escorted the man’s twisted soul to hell.
Sure that he was dead, Goris turned quickly too cut Marcus’ bonds, and they both went to Trill, who had sat up and zipped her jumpsuit back up.
Marcus drew her into his arms and closed his eyes, “Thank God you’re all right.”
She hugged him back, “Back at ya.”
Goris eyed them both with concern.
“Are you two going to be able to make it back?” he asked. Marcus looked like he’d been to hell and back, and Trill looked no better.
Marcus stood shakily, but nodded.
“I feel like shit, but I can make it back to town,” he muttered, tenderly touching his battered face. Trill stood as well, and smiled at Goris.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said, heading for the surface. Goris and Marcus gratefully followed.
***
That night, Trill found she couldn’t sleep. When they had returned to town, they had found Lenny waiting. He had fussed over their wounds and sent them home, informing Trill of Sulik’s death. Word of his demise had reached Gecko, and he had rushed home to tell her.
Marcus had asked her if she wanted to stay over, but she politely refused, saying that she needed a little time alone. Not wanting to risk another explosive argument, Marcus had reluctantly agreed. She had left with a wave, promising to stop by the next day.
And think she did. She had taken at least three showers, but somehow Trill could still feel Kunshan’s touch on her body. It made her skin crawl, and made her feel sick, and she wished she could somehow rid herself of it. If it hadn’t been for Goris…she shuddered to think what else the terrible man would’ve done before he finally killed her.
Curled up on the couch, Trill hugged herself, and fought back the tears that had been threatening since she had found Marcus’ bloody vice on her doorknob. Could she ever let her guard down? Was she destined to be ever vigilant against psychotic vigilantes?
She hugged herself tighter and let out an almost indiscernible sigh.
Someone knocked tentatively on her door, and she managed to mutter ‘go away’ before turning over and pressing her body into the couch. The knocking stopped for a moment, and then she heard the door open. She recognized Marcus’ heavy tread as he shut the door and approached her. A gentle hand touched her back.
“You’ll have to talk about it sooner or later,” he said softly, “It won’t do you any good to pretend that you’re fine.”
Trill sat up and faced him. He sat next to her, a sympathetic look on his face. She looked into his eyes, and saw the compassion in his expression. The tribal began to think that maybe there were times she could let her guard down. Maybe she would have to be a little on edge, but not completely.
He smiled at her, and she felt as if a dam had broken inside her. She leaned into Marcus and sobbed loudly, shaking, clutching at him desperately. He held her tightly while she cried, not saying a word, letting her release her frustrations. Trill felt overwhelmed as memories came flooding back to her. Her village being razed. All the people she had murdered in Navarro. The horrible discussion with the President on the oil rig. Her nearly fatal battle with Frank Horrigan. Agent Kunshan.
After an indeterminable amount of time, she quieted, feeling somehow lighter. She supposed it shouldn’t have been much of a surprise, seeing as she had been pushing her emotions to the back burner ever since her fateful quest for the G.E.C.K. Nevertheless, it was a strange, but refreshing feeling.
Marcus stroked her hair and she looked up at him. He smiled down at her.
“Thanks,” she said, “I…I really needed that.”
“I figured,” he said evenly.
“You did, huh? Are you sure a certain Deathclaw didn’t suggest you come see me?”
Marcus stared at her in shock, his brow furrowing in confusion.
Trill smiled and shook her head at him, “I’m just teasing you!”
An expression of relief took over his perplexed one, and he ruffled her hair.
“You’re something else, you know that?”
She smiled at him and nodded, and leaned close to him, so that they were nose to nose. Marcus leaned closer, but she stopped suddenly, and looked out the window. As she suspected, many of the ghouls were pressed against their windows, watching. Trill made a face at them and slid the curtain shut, resulting in much booing from the old ghouls home.
“There,” she said triumphantly, turning back to Marcus, “Now we can have some privacy.”
“What would we need privacy for?” Marcus asked, feigning ignorance. She gave him a look and he chuckled.
Super Mutant and tribal made the most of their privacy while Typhon got an earful from his fellow ghouls.
Broken Hills had returned to it’s normal temperament, or at least, as normal as Broken Hills could get.
To Be Continued…?
Well, I can either stop here or keep going! I can do it either way, what do you guys think?
-Slinky Avenger
