Fallout 3 and all of its characters belong to Bethesda. Ava belongs to me. I've gone back and started to revamp some of the earlier chapters, fixing grammatical errors as well. Enjoy the story!
Ava pushed open the heavy doors of Underworld, relieved to be out of harm's way for just a moment and around the few beings that actually smiled when she came around. Everything was always shooting at her. What the hell did she ever do to end up on the receiving end of some crazy's red-hot gun? She was trying to bring clean water to the Capital Wasteland for god's sake. Some of these motherfuckers should be grateful. She limped slightly, a result of a super mutant master's lucky shot. She hoped Willow got the final shot on him...that bastard was close to death anyway. The cool darkness of the museum felt good on her slightly sun-burnt skin and she waited a moment to allow her eyes to adjust. Her wound throbbed and Ava hissed in annoyance, a reminder that she was not invincible, as much as she wished that she were.
"Son of a bitch, this hurts," she mumbled to herself. "If Dad saw this...he'd lock me in a room back in the vault for the rest of my life."
Dealing with her father's death wasn't easy for her, but she had to move on. She had the nights for her tears. She would avenge him and kill the people responsible for his death. That was the one thing that kept her going forward. He would want her to.
Ava waved to Greta as she reached the entrance. Greta returned Ava's greeting with a smile and reached for a pack of cigarettes. Ava sat on the steps by Greta's feet and let her pack and sniper rifle hit the ground with a huff. She didn't realize how tired her legs were until then. Then again, running for your life when you had one of those hulking, green monsters chasing you, mini-gun in hand and you had just finished off your last clip of ammo, it was hard to notice.
"You're hurt smoothskin," said Greta softly. Ava shrugged and took a cigarette from the offered pack.
"We all know I've been through worse. A Master was shooting at me, but I was out of ammo. I just ran in and Willow gave me some cover fire," explained Ava. Greta chuckled and Ava gave her a smirk. They both knew Carol would fawn over her the moment she walked up to visit her.
They both smoked in silence until Greta mentioned she should get back to work. Ava put out the cigarette butt, picked up her pack and rifle, and opened the final set of doors to Underworld. The ghouls that resided there no longer stared at her every time she wandered through the museum, and she found it comforting. Ava saw Winthrop walking towards his office and she shouted out for him.
"Winthrop! Wait up!" she called. The ghoul turned and smiled warmly at her. Ava knew she had a soft spot in Winthrop's heart ever since she agreed to find him scrap metal to keep Underworld going. This place was her second home. She almost preferred the dank ruins to the luxury of Tenpenny Tower. She certainly liked the inhabitants of Underworld better than Tenpenny...Roy was always giving her a hard time about being a human. He really needed to get that stick out of his ass before she ripped it herself and beat him with it.
"Long time no see, smoothskin," said Winthrop. He glanced down at her calf and frowned.
"Yeah, I know I'm hurt. It's okay, I'll be fine," Ava said quickly. She reached into her pack and began digging through all the random items she had acquired in her travels. She really was turning into a pack rat lately, but the heavy bag of caps at the bottom of her pack reminded her why she grabbed everything in sight.
"Scrap metal?" asked Winthrop. Ava nodded and began handing him twisted pieces of metal, seven in total.
"Sorry I didn't get anymore. I was being shot at by Raiders and I had to run. I'll bring some more next time I come by. Promise," said Ava with a smile.
"Thanks kid. The fans were acting up again. You might wanna head over and see Barrows. That leg looks pretty bad," he said.
"Trust me, I'm fine. I can patch this up myself," she assured him.
Ava headed up the stairs and opened the door to Carol's place, placing her belongings in the room Carol always had for rent. It wasn't as private as the room Gob rented out in his saloon, and the bed was definitely devoid of a certain woman named Nova she had come to expect to find sitting there back in his saloon, eager for her company, but it was still a place for her to stay when she was too far from the place she called home.
"Hey Carol. Gob says hi," said Ava as she tossed a small amount of caps on the counter. Greta scowled and muttered something about Quinn and getting more food. Ava grimaced at Carol as her face fell.
"Sorry, I forget that she gets jealous of Gob," said Ava.
"No, no. It's not your fault. She should know that I love them both by now. It's good to hear from Gob. How long are you staying here?" asked Carol.
"Maybe a day or two. We'll see."
Carol peeked over the counter and saw the wound on Ava's leg before she could hide it. Damn it, here it comes...
"Ava! What happened to you?" Carol said, crossing her arms angrily. "I told you to be careful out there!"
"Just a flesh wound, no need to get all worked up now," Ava said with a calm smile.
"I don't want you to leave before it heals. If you do, I won't allow you to stay here anymore," Carol said.
"Oh come on, we both know that I just have to give you a sad, lost little girl face and you'll let me come back," Ava teased.
"I know. Now, you must be hungry after your travels. Let me fix you something to eat," said Carol before she began digging through the refrigerator.
"Thanks mom, but don't rush. I think I'm going to get a trim from Snowflake," Ava said as she tugged on a lock of hair. "You know how excited he gets when he can cut hair."
"All right dear. I'll have something ready for you by the time you come back," said Carol over her shoulder. Ava laughed quietly. Carol was always so motherly towards her and it made her choke up at times. After what happened to her father at the Purifier, she had no family. It made her sick to her stomach at night. What she needed right then was just a bit of indulgence. Just a hint of it.
Ava sat in front of Snowflake as he trimmed the ends of her two mohawks. Her father had gawked at them when she found him after they left the vault, scolding her for cutting off her long brown locks. Ava laughed at the thought. A few days later, her father had admitted that her two mohawks resembled the wings of a fallen angel and that the look suited her just fine. Ava was jogged from her happy memory when Snowflake began to ramble on and on about the lack of hair in Underworld. It was the same shit every time.
She was about to ask him if any interesting occurred in Underworld since she was there last, but the doors to the Ninth Circle flew open, startling the pair of them. Snowflake mistakenly cut off a chunk of her hair and Ava scowled as the piece fell into her lap.
"Shit, I'm sorry. I can fix it, I swear. Why the hell does he always do that?" Snowflake muttered.
A ghoul was thrown out quite forcibly, causing Ava to yelp in surprise. An extremely tall ghoul walked out the door, muscles bulging, holding another by the throat. He too was thrown and hit the opposite wall with a sickening thud.
"If you cannot control yourselves, I suggest you stop doing this shit!" the large ghoul bellowed as he threw a handful of jet inhalers at the two men he had just "escorted" out the door. "Next time, I'll use your fucking head to open these doors!"
The large ghoul turned his head stared at Ava for a few moments before walking back towards the doors. He was...he was something. Fierce? No, that was a poor word to describe the ferocity behind his throw. It was more than fierce. He was menacing. Ava tried to smile at him, but she was too stunned. She received another, longer glance from the ghoul and he slammed the doors to the Ninth Circle closed behind him.
"Hmm, that was…interesting," said Snowflake with a chuckle.
"Who the hell was that?" asked Ava.
Snowflake looked at her with surprise. "You've never been inside the Ninth Circle?" Ava shook her head and pointed to her hair, prompting Snowflake to continue cutting. She had been to enough shit holes in her short lifetime, and Carol had warned her that the Ninth Circle was the biggest shit hole of them all, run by a nasty and greedy motherfucker who trapped junkies there with promises of jet and other narcotics. Ava never bothered to touch any of that herself. She had read enough medical journals in her father's office inside the vault to know what those poisons were capable of.
"That was Charon, Ahzrukhal's…uh…bouncer," explained Snowflake.
"And a bouncer throwing out rowdy junkies is interesting?" she asked.
Snowflake chuckled loudly. "No, but him staring at ya was. It could be because we don't get many smoothskins in here. Be glad none of the women here saw him look at ya like that. You'd have a lot less friends."
"Why's that?" Ava asked as she looked down at her injury. She had wiped it clean and wrapped gauze around her leg before coming to see Snowflake. The wound had stopped bleeding, thankfully.
"He's got the women here all flustered but he's never given any of them a second look. Oh, what they all wouldn't give for one evening with that guy. They'd gladly give up all their caps for a night with him. Can't blame them either. Charon is..." Snowflake began, twirling the scissors in his hand, lost in thought.
"Really good looking for a ghoul?" Ava chirped.
"Ridiculously so. He makes the old bats here like Carol blush, and the younger girls like Tulip squeal. It's not like it matters, Ahzrukhal would never let him off his leash anyways," he said. Ava turned her head, giving Snowflake a confused look.
"He's Ahzrukhal's slave. Had his contract since Underworld first came about. Probably before then too. Ah, I'm done. You look good, smoothskin. Best lookin' gal here."
"Thanks. You sure you don't want some caps for this?" she asked, reaching into her pocket.
"No thanks. I'm happy enough," Snowflake answered with a sincere smile. Ava stood up and stared at the doors of the other bar inside Underworld, her hand resting on her Blackhawk, the most powerful .44 magnum she had ever found.
"Slave, huh?" Ava mused.
"You're not thinking what I think you are, are you? Don't start shit with Ahzrukhal, Ava. Charon won't bat an eye when he kills you. He's nasty," Snowflake said quickly.
"I'm not going to shoot up the place. Cerberus would kill me before I could even reach the doors leading out of here," Ava replied, referring to the Mister Gutsy that floated about. "Charon killing me is the least of my concern."
With that, she pulled open the doors to the Ninth Circle and walked right in, her arrogance way ahead of her. She could hear some of the ghouls whispering about her, but she paid them no mind. Everyone talked. She was more than used to it. If someone wasn't talking about her, they were shooting. Gossip was better than shooting, hands down. Junkies leaned against the wall with eyes glazed over, jet or psycho fueling their withered bodies. Walking into the next room, she saw Charon standing in a corner across from the bar, leaning against the wall. Ava had never seen someone so incredibly tall before. He was at least a foot taller than her, with a bit of dark, reddish brown hair covering his skull, and she saw he muscles were even larger than she once thought, nearly tearing through his armor. She walked up to the ghoul, causing him to straighten up and glare at her. She did not expect to find the clear blue eyes that he had. They were stunning, and not truly fit for a cold man like him.
"Uh, hi. I'm-"began Ava nervously. Nervous was not a word anyone would use to describe her, but that is exactly what she was at the moment. If there was ever a formidable opponent in the Capital Wasteland, it was this man.
"Talk to Ahzrukhal," growled Charon. Ava was taken aback by his rudeness and how large he really was when she stood close to him. He wore leather armor similar to Ava's and he had an unusual combat shotgun strapped to his back. If Charon came at her out in the Wasteland, she would have ran in the opposite direction. He was a frightening sight.
Annoyed wouldn't even begin to describe Charon at the moment. He stared at the gun on the smoothskin's back and the one at her hip, and raised his brow. Armed to the teeth, this one was. Did she come to stare at all the ghouls that resided here as if they were side show at a carnival? Smoothskins, the disgusting bigots, had no place in Underworld. His hand itched to reach for his shotgun and just blow her pretty little face off. Pretty...the fact that she was breath-takingly beautful just made him more mad. The last thing he wanted to do was make small talk with the likes of her.
"I just-"
"Talk. To. Ahzrukhal," repeated Charon with a bit more force in his voice.
"Look, I just wanted to ask you some questions," she said softly, resting her arms on the table before him.
"I don't give a shit about your inane questions. Talk to Ahzrukhal or get the fuck out before I make you," he snarled.
Ava frowned and took a seat at the bar. Slavery. God, she hated it. Life was made for making choices and when someone had the gall to enslave another being and prevent them from making those choices, there was nothing more disgusting than that. She decided she would not leave the Ninth Circle without Charon, whether he was an asshole or not.
Behind the bar stood a ghoul wearing a white, pin-striped suit, cleaning out a dirty glass with an equally dirty rag, and humming the melody of the tune Three Dog played on the radio. Ava gritted her teeth in anger. He must be Ahzrukhal. The ghoul turned around and a sick smile emerged on his face. He looked...delighted at her presence.
"Well well well. You must the pretty little smoothskin everyone's been talking about...the Vault girl. What can I get for you my dear?" purred Ahzrukhal.
Charon's head perked up at Ahzrukhal's words. She was the Vault Girl? The Saint of the Capital Wasteland? That just made her visit to the Ninth Circle slightly more interesting.
"Actually, I want to talk to you about the big asshole in the corner there. I saw him toss out a couple of your junkies a few minutes ago," said Ava, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at Charon.
Charon narrowed his eyes. She was pointing at him...probably bitching about his rudeness, no doubt.
"Charon is my muscle. I point at something and Charon hurts it," said Ahzrukhal.
"He wouldn't really talk to me," said Ava.
"I've ordered him not to speak to anyone, except to let them know he cannot speak to them."
"Ordered him?" she asked. "Like a fucking slave?"
Ahzrukhal glared at Ava and jabbed his burnt finger into her face. "He is not my slave. All people on life have their path to follow...and Charon's path is servitude. You see, Charon was raised around an interesting group of individuals. He was…brain-washed as a child to blindly follow the orders of the person who owns his contract. Unfailing, unflinching, until the day his employment ends," said Ahzrukhal in a cold voice. "A slave he is not."
"Hmm. I've been looking for some muscle myself. It's just not safe out there in the Wastes, you know? Especially for someone like me. How much for Charon?" asked Ava. She leaned over the counter and batted her long eyelashes at Ahzrukhal. The ghoul cleared his throat loudly, pulling at his collar.
"I'm afraid he's not for sale," said Ahzrukhal.
"Oh come on, everyone has a price. Name yours," said Ava, her voice suddenly taking a firm tone. She would not give up on this.
"Two thousands caps. Or you could kill Greta for me. She and Carol take away too much of my business," the ghoul sneered.
"How about...a thousand caps? That seems perfectly fair to me," she said. Ava reached out and smoothed out Ahzrukhal's tie, making sure her chest was visible to him. He seemed flustered for a moment, and Ava knew she won.
"Deal. You have the pleasure of informing Charon yourself," said Ahzrukhal with a smile. Ava counted the caps and threw them on the counter. Taking Charon's contract from Ahzrukhal's hands, she snatched a pen right out of Ahzrukhal's coat and crossed out his name, signing hers below it with a flourish. Throwing the pen on the counter, she hopped off the bar stool and walked the few feet towards Charon.
"Fucking idiot," she mumbled to herself. Some men were so easy to sway. Gob had begun to call her a black widow, for there was nothing she could do better than convince a man to bend to her will, and she smiled at the thought.
Charon looked at her once again, puzzled by the stupid grin on her face and glowered at her. She was coming back again? He would gladly show her the door; she looked much easier to throw out on her ass than the others that came here.
"I said talk to-" Charon began.
"Oh no you don't!" said Ava loudly. She would not deal with his attitude. "You're coming with me. Let's go."
"You own my contract now?" asked Charon. He did not expect Ahzrukhal to ever give up his contract to anyone. The Vault Girl nodded and she held up the contract. It read, "Ava Flint" in large, curly letters beneath a now scratched off "Azhrukhal." Charon bore his eyes into hers and she swallowed a noticeable lump in her throat.
"I must take care of something. Excuse me for a moment," said Charon as he brushed by Ava. She followed him back to Ahzrukhal, not sure what he was about to do. Charon had been praying for the day he would be free of Ahzrukhal's grasp...the motherfucker had this coming for way too long.
"Come to say goodbye to your old Master, Charon?" asked Ahzrukhal with a laugh.
"Something like that," said Charon with a smirk. He grabbed his shotgun and pointed it at Ahzrukhal. Ava's eyes went wide as Charon pulled the trigger, completely obliterating Ahzrukhal's head. Charon strapped the gun to his back once again, and searched through Ahzrukhal's pockets until he found a sack of caps. He turned and handed them to Ava, his expression now blank.
"All right, let's go," said Charon.
Usually, Ava was not surprised by death and destruction. She had seen and done much of it herself out in the Capital Wasteland. The sight of Ahzrukhal's headless body, however, shocked her. Not only did she have the contract of a slave in her possession, he was fucking nuts.
"What the fuck was that?" she asked, her voice an unusually high pitch.
"Ahzrukhal was an evil bastard. The world is better off without that filth. Now, for good or ill, I follow you," Charon explained quietly.
Ava grinned brightly at Charon and looped her arm through his. She felt him flinch at her touch and she had to laugh. Her touch made him flinch? That was amusing. He could crush her head if he wanted to.
"Are you going to blow my head off when we part ways?" she asked as Charon led her to the door. He opened it for her, and offered his arm once more, confusion flooding his blue eyes.
"Only if you're an evil bastard ma'am," he answered. Ava laughed loudly and the pair made their way towards Carol's place. For an asshole who killed off his former employers and hurt others on a daily basis, he was pretty funny. Ava would have never expected it.