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trashcanwriting · 6 years ago

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The Forest of God's Missing Eye

Chapter 1: Maurice Halpine and Clarence Dawyon

Summary:

As Clarence’s feelings towards the feral woman of the Forest becomes more clear, Maurice’s only becomes muddled.

Previous Chapter: Chapter 0: God’s Missing Eye

It has been a month since they had made camp on the mountain opposite of God's Missing Eye, the Forest so many had lost their lives attempting to come to, to find. No one had ever seen the beauty of it with their own eyes, other than the crewmen. The crewmen who had suffered months traveling three mountains now could see the Forest inside and up close. The photographs did not give justice to the actual thing.

The only photographs that captured the island Forest were from airships. Blurry and far from the source, because the moment air transportation got near the island, all controls would deactivate, causing the aircraft to plummet to the ocean below.

The same odd occurrence happened to boats, where the motor would shut off and refuse to restart. It seemed every step humanity tried to make towards the Forest was somehow blocked- until them. Obstructed by mother nature herself, the crew who finally arrived in the blocked land were nothing but advantaged.

Fortunate to be birthed during a time of technological improvement where automatic weapons and motorwagens could be purchased by bulk, a time where medical research had allowed a medic to have the supplies of a hospital office in a single seat vehicle, a time where canned foods could last them the year and a half they had planned to stay.

The crewmen were lucky, they were alive, and making breakthroughs the Great British Empire would feel for the rest of history, creating stepping stones for a colony in a place that had challenged the human race for years- and now had lost.

Clarence, a young scientist fresh from college, had played a hand in such a feat. He should feel pride and the overwhelming emotion of gratefulness he would experience this in his youth, where he could watch the years to come for what came of the hard work of the crew.

However, Clarence was far more concerned with how poorly his socks reeked, of how bored he was of heated vegetables and tinned goods- and how deeply he wanted to shower as his fingers racked his greased soaked mane.

Clarence was suffering from the part of the research expeditions no one prepares you for; leaving your comfy apartment in London to survive in a wilderness. Showering was far and few in between, the food was canned or the berries Doctor Halpine deemed 'safe,' and most of his clothes were fetor with sweat and filth. He always felt grimy- he hated the feeling. He hated living his life inside a tent, a small personal one where he could hardly sit on his knees in his cramped place.

It had been a month, and each day, the two scientist- alongside another crew member for safety- would adventure into the Forest to explore. After returning, worn and tired, he would eat a bowl of beans and whatever vegetable is about to wilt, before going to bed. He only had a few outfits, and each of them had the stench of his body odor as of late, so often he slept nude. The blistering mountain's heat played a factor, and he hated the weather- he missed the rainy days of London, where he could relax in his apartment, shower nightly, and read a book.

The heat was a shock to his system, he would never grow used to the hot sun gleaming down on his burnt skin, he would never grow accustomed to the reddened peeling skin of his exposed arms and neck, and he would never enjoy the constant supply of canned food they had to consume. These problems for Clarence hadn't fazed doctor Maurice; he had spent years dwelling in different harsh climates for the name of science. The only thing that held the older Doctor back was his lame leg, which helped him and Clarence to be on a far more fair playing field.

Clarence couldn't deny his appreciation for being on this trip, the first ever humans to make it to the forsaken land. The Forest God had kept from the hands of humans- now, he and a few selected people were making it possible for humans to own. He knew the Great British Empire would want to colonize this Forest in the next numbering years, after scientists like him and Maurice had combed the realm, photographing and analyzing each tree, each animal- each sand grain.

And God did Clarence want to do it. But he wished he had some mobilized home to stay in- not the tent, the disgusting thing. The fresh scientist would forever be too traumatized to camp for leisure ever again; he swore on his first-born son. He was happy for the rays of the sun to illuminate the thin walls of the cloth, stirring him from his light sleep.

He had never been a morning person. He enjoyed to sleep in until the afternoon the days he had free, reading a book late into the night until the words swam in his head, usually his mind creating the visuals of the literature as he slept. Nowadays, he couldn't focus on his favorite books during the nights, too much heat and exhaustion for his mind to concentrate on anything.

Once he had his boots laced, he clambered from his tent to find Doctor Hapline was already waiting for him. He was sitting on one of the logs they had taken for seating, whistling away as if he had no care in the world as he tapped his cane on the dirt floor. Clarence could understand the joy he felt; he had succeeded in his life work, after years of careful planning he had it in his grasp, and Maurice would never allow it to slip away.

After a quick meal of chopped boiled potatoes, the three were planning the walk for the extended path towards the Forest. The young man had placed some of the boiled potatoes in a metal container, plopping it within his messenger bag. Maurice had attempted to ask what he was doing, but Clarence waved him off. "Can't I have a snack?"

Maurice only shrugged, "Do not feed any animals these, we aren't disturbing the natural ecosystem."

"Now, why would I waste my food on animals?" Clarence had that smug grin of his, causing Maurice almost shake his head. The walk was quiet, as Mr. Underhill readied his rifle with the bullets he might need if they had run into any predatory animals. They had to walk slower, as Maurice's knee pain had grown worse with climbing about and walking for long periods. Despite having to live in the wilderness for expeditions since he was only a child, it had been years since he had been on one, and he was feeling his old age.

Nelson Underhill was a skilled hunter, having thirty years of hunting experience under his belt. Maurice had personally contacted him, offering the role on the research expedition with payment. Nelson couldn't deny an offer to be one of the first humans on God's Missing Eye.

Nelson was trigger happy, hoping to get an animal's corpse as a trophy for his study, to display to all of his hunting company to show his worth. Maurice had told him time and time again of how if they could help it, no animal would be harmed, much to Underhill's dismay.

Arriving at the ringed trees, the three men had to attempt to slide past. Many of the crew had spoken of merely cutting down the wall, yet Maurice was firm on his stance of respecting the lands as he called it. Despite his weak knee that had been injured trying to crawl through the narrow cracks, he still wanted to keep the property safe. He had resorted to using his cane, as the crawling through each day was doing damage to his joints. The three men had slipped past the trees yet again to enter the Forest.

“Alright, today we will go to the Northside.” Maurice announced, already hobbling off with Nelson quick to shadow the man. Clarence nearly rolled his eyes, beginning to trail after the two. Maurice had planned how they would explore the Forest each day, and without Clarence’s input. He felt like a prop rather than an equal.

Clarence hated he had to stay close to the crew, he wished he could break off and explore, taking samples and photographs on his own, but Maurice had insisted the unknown animals were unpredictable, that Clarence could get mauled just as quickly as the poor soul they had lost in the mountains.

He felt slighted by the fact that each day, since the Simian creatures and the unnamed woman, there has been no life seen in this Forest, except the plants. There were no animals to spook. However, Maurice had been so sure, refusing the younger man from his sight.

Nelson held his automatic rifle tight, ready to fire at the first signs of danger. He was trigger happy, so Maurice had to keep the man calm mostly.

As the usual routine, they were wandering near the tree barrier, snapping still lives of any organisms they had yet to capture in their photographer. Clarence took a peek at the puncture holes of the bark, the mysterious creatures or the Forest woman has yet to be seen again. As if she disappeared from the Forest, they had only seen her once- and Maurice was the only one who had seen her in person.

Did she exist?

As the men continued their hiking through God's Missing Eye, the three had begun a whispering, light discussion of the weather and how much longer they could handle eating potatoes before hearing the faint yelps and squeaks in the distance. It was in a whispering voice, trying to keep themselves quiet.

Maurice stopped the two, listening for a moment before he slowly hunched lower, the two other men copying his actions as they made their way through the bushes and plants, Clarence couldn't shake the feeling of being watched intensely now. The air had more moisture in this area; the floor was flooded and muddy against their feet.

Maurice gently moved the scrub, revealing the scene before the three. The hunter nearly shot, but Maurice grabbed the barrel and yanked it down, refusing to allow the creatures before him to come in harm's way because of a startled grown man. Nelson stopped in his tracks by the evident annoyance of the older man, kneeling as the other two had.

There was a large pond before them, roots and vines coming from the sides of the water. The bioluminescent algae shined a shimmering pink, making the scales of the creatures almost glowing. Two creatures had surfaced from the pond, their bony arms leaning lazily against the grassy floor.

The animals could be described as mermaids, but not the beautiful half-humans wrote about in literature. Their hair was dry, withered away only to have spotting gray hair across their skulls.

Their lower part was a muscle-bound, fish-like tail that was thicker than the rest of their body. The upper torso was covered in bony scutes. Their faces were sunken in, with small, buggy black serpent eyes. Their mouth was thin and pallid, without lips, so their long teeth were on full display. The rest of their body had a green hue, dark like the pond they were sticking out from.

The mercreatures were speaking to none other than the feral woman; she was on her knees, moving her head side to side as she squawks at them. In turn, they chirp and hum, seeming to hold a conversation.

After her being impossible to find for weeks, it was a shock to them all. Especially the hunter, who hadn't believed she had even existed before seeing her.

As they spoke, the larger mermaid came up further to the surface, grasping the feral woman's face with gentleness.

The hands of the creature had four digits, ending in claws, her fingers were webbed and covered in harsh scales. The mercreature was chirping quiet, as the feral woman leaned closer for the creature.

"Clarence, you take the photographs; yours is much quieter than mine," Maurice mumbled, as Clarence inched along with the scrubs, holding his photographer ready as he began snapping pictures.

His was a newer model, quiet and without the big flash of Maurice's. He promised himself when he returned to London. He was going to spend the funds he needs to get such a sophisticated device. He can't deny how satisfying it was to get the pictures without scaring away the subjects.

This did not last long, as when the mermaids noticed the moving plants, they all dived within the ocean in unison. The feral woman had tried to grab hold of one before they disappeared within the deep body of water, desperate for them to stay.

Then, silence. The human looked around before moving towards one of the trees. She ran as an ape, using all of her limbs to move across the ground. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Clarence had stood. Thoughtlessly acting, Clarence knew she would disappear again, for now long, he didn't know.

This could be his last time to make an imprint for some time, maybe months.

Revealing himself to the feral woman, Maurice gripped his wrist, short nails digging into his flesh. Clarence jerked himself from the other's vice-like grasp, moving forward as the savage woman growled lowly, giving warning to the man who slowly approached her.

He pulled back the flap of his baggage, moving slowly as the undomesticated woman stared intensely, circling his form. He pulled the tin from his carrier, bringing it to his chest and twisting open the metallic container to grab some of the mushy potatoes. The girl pressed her side to the tree, glaring as she bared her teeth.

Clarence wanted to vomit at the state of the teeth, with black buildup at the tops, yellowed to the point of almost brown, they looked as if they had never been cleaned. He couldn't imagine what reeked from her mouth. She needed a dentist or some physical hygiene. He reached within the container, before holding out the boiled mush.

He held the food in his open palm. He had often fed stray animals as a schoolboy, so he applied the same tactics he had then. Slowly approaching her, he halted a few steps in, holding the food to allow her to come to him. Something like food would always sweeten the deal for the sick, skinny dogs that dwelled near his school's courtyard.

She paused, moving closer at the palm. She brought her head closer, smelling the food cautiously. She slowly reached her hands towards his palm, taking the food from them before she crawled away. She was eating it fiercely, mouth smacking as she squinted her eyes, the taste and texture was something she was unused to. As her expression twisted, she chewed sluggish, hoping to understand if she liked it or not.

He couldn't imagine her ever tasting anything boiled, nor potatoes from the natural vegetation that grew from Forest's grounds and around the trees. After she had swallowed the mush in her mouth, she began to crawl against the trees. After a moment, smacking away the potatoes in her mouth, she had started to shriek. She barely finished getting the food down her throat when she began her screaming.

Maurice had jumped from his perched position, reaching to grab Clarence and pull him back to the safety of the shrubbery. He was sure she was calling an alarm of her people, going to get them attacked. Maurice grabbed the young man, yanking him to the ground before the tree the feral woman had pressed herself against began to shake.

The form slid down, using their rough textured palms on both pairs of limbs to glide down the bark as if it was a smooth pole- a normal hand would be bruised and sliced from trying such a thing. The form had slid from the tree the woman had pressed herself to, reaching towards the woman. In turn, the mortal was squawking up a storm, making grabby hands for the ape.

This creature was the same species of the first animals they had found her with. However, this one differed from the last ones they had seen. This one had wrinkles carved in the hairless portion of their face, with white, silver, and light black fur that covered their skin. The protracted armed primate snatched the woman's arm, swinging her to their chest. The woman sighed in relief, gripping onto the fur of the animal and holding onto them tight.

The woman seemed accustomed to the jerking, only wrapping her arms around the neck of the other, before her legs ringed across the other's shallow hips. The primate took no notice of the other humans, using her claws to crawl upon the bark lazily. The woman, however, gave a concise wave to the men as she disappeared far up the trees.

Maurice paused, trying to process the current events as it all happened so quickly, to Clarence acting like a maniac to the woman having some alerting call to the other species. The information swam in his head, almost making the poor man cross-eyed.

When he gained his bearings, he twisted his torso towards the younger. "Zounderkite! What happened to not wasting it? Do you realize what you have done?" His voice was coarse, cutting the air like snapping leather as he struggled to his feet, using his cane for support. Between his harsh words, he was allowing himself to groan from the pain of his knees, having to jump and move so quickly.

"Maurice, I wanted to be known by her, I only fed her some-"

"Clarence, you interacted and disturbed the natural order, something I have told you multiple times not to do."

"There is no way that a human woman in this Forest is natural; I want to gain her trust; we get closer; we might learn more of the animals. They have been hidden from us, but when we saw one of them." He gestures towards the lake, "She is with them. We never saw one of them until we saw one with her. She could be the key to knowing this Forest."

Maurice mumbled under his breath, only stewing more within his anger. He felt rage for being disrespected by such a younger companion, trying to teach the expert on what he knew. After releasing the held air he had kept in his lungs, he decided to think calmly.

Clarence, the bright-eyed college graduate who had never even left London, had fed a feral woman they found in the most dangerous Forest known to man. But she lived there, unharmed by the other creatures. She was able to even call for one of them, and communicate with the fish creatures that have longed disappeared from the pond's mossy surface.

He hated Clarence was right. They had struggled to meet any life that was not rooted in the ground. The only animals they had met were alongside the woman. The woman almost felt like the guide to the creatures, and he hated it. Maurice hated he was not the first human to discover the Forest, to step foot in the place God had kept secret since the dawn of time.

Instead, a girl, a simple girl who paraded herself as an animal got his right, his right as a man of science who sacrificed everything he had to get here, but she had been gifted the human of the Forest. The protector, it seemed, what he wanted to be. He had wished to lead this land, to colonize and rule it as the proper one who had discovered it. The emotions hit him like bricks, the thoughts he tried to keep to himself was boiling over- and becoming targeted towards Clarence, the poor young man who saw this much clearer than he could.

"We discovered a feral woman in this place… It's a miracle. It proves we could survive here. We can colonize!" Clarence grabs the shoulders of the older gentleman, his eyes full of passion, of knowing he was changing history. Maurice couldn't fault him for his excitement, perhaps he would make mistakes, but that was why Maurice was here, to take the new scientist under his wing to teach him all he knew.

No matter how he felt, he had to calm. "I, we have no choice now, do we?"

Clarence's smile only grew, knowing he had won the argument. "No, she will expect food now- like a stray."

"It's why I never fed the strays." Maurice shook his head, "Far too needy, too dependent."

Clarence's eyes had a glint to them, something Maurice couldn't describe. Sinful, a look of lust and greed that he saw in Colonizers' eyes when they have the land before them. Maurice had little time to analyze the meaning of such a look, as the men were quick to return to the task of research, and discussing what the feral woman meant.

Hiking through the vast land was short that day, Maurice's injured knee had finally slowed him down, and all three men left the Forest. Nelson had to walk back himself to receive a motorwagen for Maurice, for he could not handle such a walk today.

When he returned with the transport, all three men began driving back to the campsite where the poor medic would do what he can with Maurice's knees.

The ride from the long corridor of the dirt bridge was quiet. Maurice was far too focused on the tense throbbing in his legs to continue any conversation, rubbing his weak knee, hoping to slight the pain. Nelson was enjoying the short moment of his trip without scientific terms and theories constantly whirling in the air. The quietness was a welcome change from the debates the two scientists and the rest of the crewmen would carry on about.

Clarence was staring outside the pane of the motorwagen, thoughts darting in his mind like a pinball bouncing in a billiards table, the flippers forcing his ideas to new possibilities the next time they would meet the girl again.

The photographs, blurred and shaky, could not correctly illustrate her appearance. Despite her being on her hands and feet, he saw how short she was- it made sense. Malnourished from the lack of vitamins and minerals, he could have easily mistaken her as a younger child than a woman. He wanted to see her stand on those legs, to see how she compared to him at full height. Regardless of her undernourishment, she was pursy. Of course, it wasn't uncommon for someone who was undernourished to be overweight; she could have a plentiful supply of calories, but without the essential nourishment she would need.

Clarence thought of the poor state of her teeth and physical hygiene, how he could fix all of those things, and take her to London. The problem was Maurice, with his holier than thou stance upon the natural order.

When the motorwagen returned to the campsite, all three men went their separate ways. Maurice wobbled to the medic. Clarence left for his tent, and Nelson wanted nothing more than to clean his weapons. The three men all busy in their own mindsets.

Maurice would spend that evening adding towards the pile of letters he had written, the majority of the letters would never be sent, and only served for mental release. His loved ones would only expect the letters nearing his return. He would have to wait until the blimp came at the end of the year to send any of the messages, as the Messenger Pigeons' radio wave would have interference as any ship's motherboard.

The robotic birds he had sent before had fallen straight into the turbulent waters below only a few short miles just off the coast of the village towards the Mountains. He knew then that he had no chance to send any letters in the eye of the storm. He wished he could send messages after letters to Theodosia and Enoch; the middle-aged servant he had left to care for his house and his adoptive son.

The letters, even if they rarely saw the light of day, was therapeutic. He felt he was having a conversation with someone, anybody, but his co-workers. He wanted to talk to someone who he chose to love and desire to speak to, instead of for professional purposes. Of course, other than Clarence. However, Clarence was a child swept up in his stew of morals and self fantasy of what he wanted the girl to become, Maurice had little time for such things.

The study of a feral woman, alongside the newly discovered creatures, was nothing but a once in a lifetime chance for research. He wouldn't spoil this chance with the ideals of a correct society, where a feral woman could come to civilization and grow to be normal. No, she would never be normal. Her development years, her years required to learn how to be a proper mother and wife has been wasted on survival in the wild.

She could never transition to society the way he knew Clarence desired. Maurice could understand the bright-eyed mindset of fixing her, but he had read the reports of multiple feral cases. It was nearly impossible to help a young child of twelve after living in the wild for so long, how would a woman, someone fully grown, take to somewhere like London?

To study her was to investigate the creatures of the Forest, and if she truly knew the Forest, she would be just what they needed to comb the area for a colony, years down the line. She was useful, but Maurice refused to see her as more. When the territory began settlement, the wild woman would most likely become caged in a Psychiatric hospital for the rest of her years.

This was the reality of her situation, a lost cause, but an interesting study on both the human psyche and the inhuman creations that roam the Forest.

His mind lazily learched from thoughts, writing down his mindset into formal documents cleansed him, allowing him to understand his situation better. He could also feel less lonely this way, in his little fantasy of speaking to his beloveds once more. He missed the modern luxuries of his home, where Theodosia would set his fireplace ablaze before plating his supper, where he could read a novel in peace and worry not for his weaker knee.

Mindlessly, his fingers trace over the pained kneecap, attempting to soothe the pain from his joints. Years of walking had worn down his legs, and now he was paying the price for such a lifestyle. The moment he could stand, his father had taken him off on research missions and hunting, he lived out in early settlements and newly discovered lands, right beside his father.

Those days he would remember fondly, days he wished he could reminisce about with his son. All those thoughts were for another day, he told himself, sealing the leather journal pages before discarding the possession back under his sleeping bag of sorts. It was two blankets folded in two and sewn together except for one side, and he found it comforting.

Two blankets that held the scent of his home brought him the sanity he would need for the year in the wild. Unlacing his boots and rolling underneath the sheets, he didn't bother to change into the thin sleepwear. He only undid his shoes, belt, and sometimes, when the heat got too much, removing his buttoned shirt.

As he closed his eyes, the throbbing of the knee and the gentle breeze against the tent's fabric slowly dissolved, drifting off to slumber. He had no dreams; his mind and thoughts were blank until the following morning when he would wake. He would stir from the sun's blistering rays of heat shining down on him, or from one of the crew members being forced to rouse him. Though, it had been quite some time since that was necessary: The first few weeks having to grow accustomed to his schedule once more.

Clarence had fallen asleep much sooner than Maurice, who had stayed awake to think and analyze. After a supper of grits and pasta, he had taken his place in his tent to sleep the evening away. The younger man escaped to his dreams, without having to try and be friendly with the crewmen or listen to Maurice's rambling of colonies. He could dream of home, his favorite literature, all the sane things a man would create in his mind.

He laid in the make shifted sleeping bag; his mind created a scene before him. Recently, he had dreamed of lounging around the home, or sitting in an air-conditioned room reading a newspaper, yet, this fantasy was different.

Clarence stood in front of a tropical waterfall, a sprinkling of rain came down with the soothing sound of thunder echoing far behind him. The chirping of birds and the quiet ambiance of a forest was all he could hear. It was so calm, unlike the Forest, it was not cold and damp. Instead, it was a perfect sunny temperature, with a breeze grazing his warmed flesh. He felt the grassy sand underneath his feet, the sun kissing his face, it felt so vivid, as if he was alive and awake.

He wasn't alone in his creation, only a foot away from him was the woman from the wild, playing in the waters. She splashed about, acting more of a child at a pool than the grown woman she was. She looked up, using a circling gesture of her wrist to beckon him to the cleaner waters. He blinked slowly, moving forward from the shore to the fresh body of water that awaited him.

Clarence came to the pond. He took a breath before stepping within the watery depths, the sensation was welcoming, unlike in reality stepping inside would cause him to shiver of the sudden cold feeling over his feet. It was warm, ready for him already. The woman ran towards him, presenting him with a toothy grin. Her teeth were a perfect pearl white, unlike the rotten teeth she possessed.

She was different, the black grime that stained her form was gone, some dirt had been smeared on her cheeks and torso, but he could see her pale body. She was still nude, but she looked so much more exposed without the dirt. Her long hair was tangled, but not the sweaty mass as it was in reality. She smelled and appeared so much cleaner, more accessible for Clarence to feel lust after.

The being before him was only a sexualized version of the true woman in the Forest. She stood before him, her fragile hands finding their way on his flat stomach, invading his space as she stared up at him, keeping eye contact as she grew closer. She was fisting the fabric of his one-piece suit, worrying the shirt portion against her nails.

The woman only went to his chest, and she looked up at him with the same wonder and awe she had when he offered her the food. Her lips were plumper, possessing a bright pink hue, one that only lipstick could provide. Thoughtlessly, he grabbed her chin. The submissive creature allowed him to move her face side to side.

Clarence leaned over the woman before he yanked her chin forward, smashing the lips together. Of course, the passion was shared, her arms finding their way to loop around his neck. She was soft, from her full lips to the silky skin that pressed to his bare neck. His hands traveled lower, gripping her waist as he forced her mouth open with his tongue.

She panted, her voice high pitched, so naive and youthful. Clarence had lost himself to the fantasy, of tainting the woman and taking her as his own he barely registered he had woken until he noticed the stillness, slowing his humping motions. His eyes flutter slowly, realizing he had woken himself from the erratic movements he had begun in his sleep.

Sweat glued loose hair to his forehead and his clothes to his body. His pants were tightened, causing him to flop on his back. He took a moment, before unbuttoning his bottoms and pulling his cock from the sealed fabric that had made it uncomfortable. He didn't care for the time or if the crewmen would find him, arching his neck against the pillow as he stroked himself.

Thumbing the tip, he tried to relive the fantasy of the waterfall, her fingers raking through his hair as he placed her on the beach, her back pressed to the sand as he leveled himself to thrust inside. She was moaning, gripping against him as she opened her legs. Pure and untouched, ready for someone of her species to whisk her away, take her away from the Forest and the place she was meant to be.

He continued to pump himself to this dream, allowing shaky groans and sharp hisses to escape his chapped lips. Thrusting inside her, she would cry out, holding him so tight, scratching down his back as she wrapped her legs around his hips, pushing him deeper. Her hair was scattered out, lips parted as she groans, her arms clinging to him- she would need for him.

Itching closer, his mind raced through thoughts of her atop him, moving against his length, to her in his bedroom in London, wearing some lingerie he had once seen in a store catalog as he pulled her to bed. He could fix her faults, poor hygiene, and feral behavior, creating the image in his head.

He shudders, climaxing against his palm as he laid in bliss for several moments. The pent up frustration and anger from the trip were sliding from his mind. The glow of the after orgasm washed over him. He lazily wiped his dirtied hand the inside of his sleeping bag. He concealed his flaccid penis under the wraps of his undergarments and pants, he rolled on his side, curling further into himself as he now had to live with the fact he pleasured himself to his research.

The many thoughts of her had ran through his head, burning a hole within his skull as he gripped the hair of his mane, guilt, and disgust creeping upon him before he released a breathy hiss. He was a man, a man that had needs, and a nude woman had come before him. She walked on her hands and feet, allowing her legs to be spread as her knees bent always. She exposed herself to everyone, if she were a woman of society, he wouldn't have had these sinful thoughts of her.

She needed to be civilized, to learn how to behave and become a true woman.

She needed him.

The two scientists had risen early, Maurice had struggled his way to the medic, allowing the doctor to apply some ointment on his knee before the trip to the Forest, the long hiking of today made him dread it so. The pain traveled down his leg, his ankle even aches after walking for so long. He loves the outdoors, hiking and camping were something he used to do so much before old age had taken its toll.

Clarence was quiet that morning, saving some of his breakfast as last time in his tin for the girl in the wild. He was suited up, ready to embark before the rest of the men. But with Maurice's knee problems, that would be expected. Maurice took longer to finish his meal, savoring the eggs they had stored up for the journey.

Despite the episode Maurice created over feeding the girl, he had placed some of his leftovers in a tin container. Clarence felt nothing but smugness when he realized the older man's motives as they board the motorwagen to pass the bridge.

The crowd had once hiked the mile travel to the island, not wanting to waste their resources of Motorwagens for returning off the mountains. Unfortunately, for Maurice's knee, the two knew he could not handle the long walk today. The three piled into the motorwagen without a word, and towards the isolated Forest.

Underhill was quiet as usual, driving as the two men spoke of their current findings. The conversation had grown dry since the majority of their conclusions was plant life, but after finding the sea beings, the two had the spark to speak for hours of what that could mean.

The ride was short, Underhill parking near the Forest's barrier as usual, as the three clamber out of the automobile to crawl through the openings once more. Underhill trekked his way through, pushing past the barks and lush plants to enter the Forest.

Clarence stood beside the older man. "Can I help you inside?"

"My knee will ache no matter who coddles me. I can walk through fine." Maurice would not slow down the research, become the burden of the crew. He was the reason this was possible, without him, and his lifetime of the investigation, no one would be here without him. He wasn't an older man who troubled people with his nonsense. He turned to slide through on his side, using his cane to try and support his weight.

He shifts through the vines and trees, nearly falling as he had to use all of his strength to stand on his feet. Clarence hurried through the mass of green life to find Maurice. "Mau-"

"I am fine. Let's continue." He gripped the cane, walking towards Underhill, who had patiently awaited the man. The fog rolled across the lands; silhouettes were blurred, barely visual as the men continue to explore the area.

"The fog has never been this intense." Clarence began, walking alongside the men. He could hardly see his hand in front of his face. Underhill rolled his shoulders.

"If you wish to see fog, come to Russia." Underhill almost chuckled, a cracked smile hung on his lips that made Clarence almost made him have a second take. Nelson was a pragmatic man, who treated every person as a lower co-worker, Clarence had to contain himself when the man had slightly chuckled.

"Indeed? You were born in the Russian District?" Clarence hurried to the man’s side, hoping to continue this ice breaker for the two. He prayed for another person on this trip to enjoy his company, even if it was an obsessed hunter.

"Born and raised until I was four, then we moved to the Capital District."

"Ah, beautiful place, Britain is. Which region were you raised in?"

It had gone over Maurice's head. All his thoughts were centered on the freshly returned pain of his knee. The ointment had worn off, for how much budget he had on a doctor and supplies, he had expected the workforce of a pharmacists office.

Ointment, for a hurt knee, what a lazy solution. He trudges forward, using the cane to allow weight off the leg. He was hiking at a further distance from the two other men, who were lost in a discussion of their own. They did not notice how Maurice slowed, losing both of their shadowy figures in the murkiness.

The man took a few more selected steps, before leaning against a tree closest to him. "Clarence!" He shouted, awaiting any reply. "Clarence! Nelson!" All of his yellings fell onto deaf ears, sliding his weakened body down the bark. He flopped onto the overgrown floors below, panting heavily as the knee finally had some solace.

He didn't know how long he laid there, lying his head upon the trunk, eyes heavy with exhaustion already. The realization hit him, causing his stomach to turn violently. He would probably never finish his exploration, his advancing age holding him back from his reward, his earned prize.

His eyes flutter closed, thinking of how he barely saw his adoptive son or siblings for his pursuit of the Forest. How he wasted years to come here, and now? He was a wasted man who might die in this Forest.

Maybe it was a deserving fate.

Darkness encased him, drifting into slumber as his body was hidden away by the fog. His sleep was peaceful, despite how stressed he was when he had fallen asleep, escaping the pain for longer. When he had first injured his knee, and back then, at the brightness of young manhood, he used to shake it off. Now, it only grew, like a fungus.

He was awakened from his misery from something touching him, unlike a predator who would eat their prey, hands ran over his clothes, repeated as if to savor the texture. The hands roam his bottoms, tops, and begun to touch his shoes before he had the strength to open his eyes.

Halpine had nearly forgotten how he had fallen asleep; startled shudders crawl up his spine at the sight of the feral woman holding his excellent leg, lifting his shoe to take a look. Maurice gulped, both hands firmly pressed to the ground for support before the girl looked back at him.

She had been too far either time for him to gaze into her eyes, round and wide, colored sea green and full of curiosity. They were full of the innocence of an animal, untainted of the sins of men. The woman continued eye contact, scooting her way back to his face.

Her fingers lift to touch his jawline. The other's fingers interlocking with his dark brown and grayed mutton chops, seeming interested by his facial hair. The touches were gentle and slow as if he was the easily spooked animal. He barely had time to register most of what she was doing, watching as her hand not touching his beard grabbed his wrist, and pressed it to her cheek.

The contrast of their skin was clearer to see now. Maurice's suntanned skin was so dark against her colorless flesh. He had spent a lifetime outside, basking in the sunlight for years. But she had probably never seen the sun or felt the heat of the rays. She leaned closer, touching his face, brushing over his eyebrows, nose, lips- he had to admit, it was a bit disgusting.

Her dirtied hand felt over his face, head tilting as she had felt her own a couple of times to sense the differences. His hand stayed where it was placed by her, slowly falling back into his lap. With her being so close, he got to see more of her face.

She wasn't a woman, in reality, a girl in her mid-adolescent- his first theory was she was older, he knew now that wasn't right. She had a juvenile appearance, underneath all the grime and scars: She possessed oval, full lips, alongside a round jawline, her face had been drained of any coloring except the stained dirt. Her fingernails were surprisingly short, peacefully tracing over his wrinkles and whiskers quietly.

Maurice supposed she had her full, as she slowly moved back, glancing towards his carrier, before looking back at him quietly. As if a pet begging for food, her hand slowly reached towards it, but she didn't understand how to undo the flap as Clarence had before offering her the treat.

"You're hungry." He mumbled, knowing she had no possible way to understand him. The language barrier between the two was far more than English and Spanish, but some primate's form of communications with sounds versus his proper language. He pulled the flap of fabric back, pulling out his tin container.

He twisted it open for the girl, sitting it between them as she was quick to hurry towards him, she glanced at the canned beans for a moment. The seeds had been canned with a gravy mixture of brown sugar and some molasses. Giving it a sweetened punch, she used her closed fingers as a scoop, shoveling it down her throat before she pinched her face, coughing lightly after each sampling of the food.

Of course, she didn't grow up on candies and sweets as a child, or sweet teas and coffees as an adult. She might have never tasted sugar cane, so this must have been a surprise for her system. She still fed herself each finger full, smacking away. Her mouth hung open, having the gravy drip from her lips and onto the forest grounds.

She ate, moved, and acted like a primate. It was so surreal for a human to perform so. He could hardly picture her being human in this state. How in God's green Earth did she ever make it here? The last colony attempt was over thirty years ago, and they had all died on the other mountain. Did her family crash from a powered aircraft and she was the survivor? They had yet to see any accident near the island, but the Forest was so vast.

It did not matter how she might have become part of the Forest, she was there now, and Maurice needed to focus on research. He tried to sit up, but the throbbing in his knee made him fall right back on his backside. The girl squawked in confusion, moving from the tin she had been licking the dregs of to circling him. She had begun to touch over his body, his chest, stomach, thighs, pressing down and watching his expression.

He had attempted to pry her off, he didn't want her to place pressure on his kneecap, but the moment she touched his bad knee, he hissed through clenched teeth, thrusting himself against the bark in instinct.

She paused at his reaction, before scampering off from the right. Her running style was of an ape, using both hands and feet to take off, her form dissolves through the mist, and he was left alone again. He wondered if he had been abandoned as he was lame, or if she had gone to get help.

The idea of being so close to the eight feet creatures was almost terrifying. He couldn't deny the amazing opportunity it would, to see them so closely and how they would react to something injured. Hopefully, it wouldn't be to kill him.

His eyes grew too heavy; his mind was slipping back into the unconscious. For how long he was asleep was unknown, but he awoke to the thumping of a body beside him. He was stirred violently by the scurrying of the chubby girl. Within her mouth, she had been smacking on something red and thick. The sludge dribbled down her chin, making him wince as she drew closer, her foot pressed to his thigh as he had the sinking fear she would want to spit that into his mouth.

He shudders, gagging at the mental image as he moved his head away. However, she had no interest in his face. Instead, she spat the substance into her palms. She then slapped her hands onto his knee. He let out a startled gasp at the heated mass that was applied to his kneecap.

"Oh, dear lord!" He exclaims, his first instinct was to wipe it off, but the girl gripped his wrists, moving them away from his leg as she squeaks and yelps. Her noises felt unnatural being made from her vocal cords. It sounded right for the primates to squeal like that, with high pitched voices- but hers had to pitch higher than her natural tone.

The muck against his hairy leg started to burn, slowly before it was near blistering. The two began to wrestle a bit, with him trying to get it off before he found acidic burns as she kept moving his hands away, she continued to squall. She tried so hard to explain whatever she was doing. He had little time for this, and god it hurts.

The moment it grew so hot he knew he must have third-degree burns, it became as if ice on him. He curled slightly, his head lowering in the shock as the girl let go of his wrists, wiping her own hands against the grass before she touched at his shoulders. The cold feeling left sooner than the burning, leaving his knee numbed. It had no sense. It took him a moment to realize the subtle throbbing had gone.

Maurice's head swung to the girl, as she slowly scooted to his side, flicking off the hardened paste as the effect she had wanted passed. He was quick to join her, wanting it off him as soon as possible. The bend of his leg had no lasting burns, only a faint redness, as if an ice cube had run over his skin. The girl grinned, showing her yellowed teeth as she moves away; using her legs and keeping her knuckles as support.

He gripped the cane he had carelessly abandoned when he had fallen, still lying beside him. He used the tree as support, forcing his weight upon his legs once more. He was expecting some sort of pain from his patella, the shooting ache that has poisoned his time. As he stood fully on both legs, his knee continued to stay numb.

Maurice took a moment, realizing she had healed him, somehow. For how long it lasted, he could not tell, but he had little care for such a thing. The man could walk, he felt like running a mile or jumping into the trees like the primates she lived with. No dull ache as he walked, no searing pain when he tried to hurry in his step.

He stood, feeling the might of a young man with a new leg. His eyes laid on the crouched girl. Maurice began walking, heading towards the girl who only looked back, perfectly still as he stood before her. She stares up, awaiting his reaction to her. Maurice could only watch in wonder. She has shown him a new form of potential medicine, and he wanted to know everything about it.

He could only imagine what this could mean for humankind, the breakthroughs that could succeed with something a seemingly magical cure. He needed to see it, to hold it within his grasp.

The scientist reached lower and tapped his fingertip to his kneecap. “Show me where you found it.” He spoke softly, with a gentleness he honestly had no idea he possessed. She inches towards the red hue left from the paste on his skin, only glancing to where he had pointed before she seemed to understand what he wanted. She began crawling towards the direction the savage woman had run off to when she realized he was hurt.

Maurice was quick to follow, having a spring to his step now that his leg no longer held him back.

The travel with her through the Forest was something new and awe-inspiring, the flowers blossomed when she walked past, with the once faint chirping and yelps of animals grew as she continued down the path. She sometimes lifted her head and squawked in reply. Was she human, or a fae of a forest? Had he met a guardian that was not of this world?

She had the pattern of her arms making a step first, then her feet. It was interesting. It looked awkward for a human body to contort in such a way. However she was moving quickly, keeping a steady pace.

Maurice had not the slightest clue of how long they had walked, yet, when the feral girl darted off in a specific direction- he figured they were close. He began to rush after her, feeling a sudden pride wash over him. He was able to chase someone, to keep up.

His mind kept wandering to trying to catch Enoch in the halls, only to be forced to plop on the stairs only moments in their run because of his knees. He could almost see the child looking back with a look of pure disappointment. Shaking his head, he sped up after her. She glanced back, assuring he was following. She looked so much like Enoch, he had to turn his head away to collect his thoughts.

She stops in front of a tree that looked out of a storybook, the pale bark of the other trees contrasted the dark, oak trunk. This tree was thick, with long, twisting roots that came from the ground and made loops in the field. The branches, unlike the other trees, came down to the baseline to the top, he had never seen branches touching the floor before. This tree seemed to go past all the rest of the trees, as the tree went past the leave roof the rest made.

This one was so unlike the others. It appeared to have been plucked from another place. She came to this tree, careful and gentle of the roots and branches that hung low, locating a side of the oak. She climbed on top of the roots, as she started to crawl across the elevated roots and base of the tree.

She only had to explore for a few moments before she looked back at him squawking once more. He groaned, beginning to crawl onto the roots.

When he came to her side, she sidestepped to display what she had been searching for. Plump, large berries grew from vines that were protected with thorns. These berries were stewed red, with black dotting. They were as large as the tip of a thumb. He reached and extracted one from the vine.

He was startled by how hardened the skin of the berry was, it was hard as rocks, and he had trouble to squish it between his fingertips. The flesh of the fruit was as sturdy as rich glass. When she realized he was trying to pop the fruit, she gripped his wrist, yanking his hand towards her and ripping the thing from him.

Gasping, he stepped away when she stole the berry from him. She held it within her palm, squeezing it until he heard it burst. Unclenching her fingers, he watched steam swimming from her flesh, as she waved the squished liquid off her hand. Her hand was burned by the heat of the plumped red sustenance, a large, black seed fell alongside it. The seed was a bit smaller than the actual berry. Was that why it was so hard?

She licked it off her fingers, used to the heat of the berries. She had protected him from the pain of the berry, and if it was so hot on his skin after being popped, he couldn’t imagine the blistering heat she must have just endured to prove the point of _don't pop it._

Maurice grabbed a test tube from his bag, clipping the berries inside for later testing. If these could be extracted for medicine, this could change the path of modern healing practices. Addictive painkillers and most corrective surgeries could be a thing of the past. The amount of money they could sell these for, and the money he could make for discovering it- was unimaginable.

“You just helped a lot of people, little one.” He grinned, patting the head of the girl as she tilted her head at his action. He chuckled, the look in her eyes was endearing. With a few strokes of her mane, he began to move his hand only to have her grab his wrist.

“So needy.” He began to stroke her crusted mane; he could feel the knots and filth underneath his gloves. How long has she been here? He could only wonder, he did hope one day he could speak to her, to understand the secrets she kept from them. His daze snapped when she moved her head away from him, hurrying from the large roots she had climbed up before turning and starting down a path.

He blinked a few times, climbing from the great foundation of the tree and towards the girl. He knew this tree was particular, somehow, so he tried to memorize the journey to wherever she was taking him. Pondering where she would lead him next, he had his answers when he heard the faint conversation of his crewmen.

”Where is he?”

”Goddamn it. The old man just disappeared!”

”What if some predator got him?”

He huffed at the words, treating him as some nursing home patient rather than the great scientist he was. She halted when they neared the group, giving him a final glance before pressing her forehead to his thigh for a few seconds before he could pet her once more, she ran from the scene.

He watched her for a moment, quiet as she hastened, her bellowing footsteps fading as he knew he needed to return to his crewmen, she had done whatever she had wanted to do and left him just as quick. She healed him and shown him the berries that did this. The feral woman- girl, that is, had taken an interest in him. He peeked downward at his legs, she had some human in her, if he could reach further in and grab it.

As if Clarence had rubbed off on him, he felt excitement for their next chance meeting. She could really be the answer to getting to know this Forest and finding everything that had hidden inside and what a thing to show the king. A human girl found in the Forest. He could already see the media becoming obsessed with her, and the cash he could gain from such a story of her adapting into society.

He stepped from the bushes, watching the two men run to him. Clarence was the only one who had valid concerns for his well-being; it was clear from his many questions and looking over the man. “What happened?”

“My knee, I had to take a break. The girl found me, and healed me.” He bent his knee in midair, making Clarence’s eyes widened. Maurice could hardly move the damned leg before. Nelson stepped forward, having a closer look at the man. He was shocked beyond words, did the Forest possess some sort of magic?

“If we use what she healed me with, we found God’s healing elixir.” Maurice held his arms out to gesture how great it was, only for Clarence to bend his knees to see the redden hue of the paste had left behind on the man’s kneecap.

Nelson rolled his shoulders, “You think it could help my back aches?” He questioned, patting his back with a quiet groan. Standing beside the other man, Maurice could only grin up at the gentleman.

“Oh dear Underhill, it could do so much more! It’ll make your back feel young again!” Maurice came to the other man’s side, wrapping an arm over his shoulders. “I think we just made a fortune here!”

Underhill appeared more than pleased by that, grinning right back at the other man. Clarence was less concerned with the money, but more with the logical reasoning almost being thrown out as some sort of paste just cured Maurice, and perhaps even kept the human girl alive. It could explain the lack of major scars.

“This Forest, it is Unearthly.” Clarence mumbled to himself, touching the red crust of whatever was left on the man’s leg. If it was true, if something healed Maurice like this, this could prolong the human’s lifespan, even make it where senior citizens could be as active as school children.

“Oh Clarence, this is only the beginning.” Maurice lifted the younger man, gripping his shoulders. “In a year time, we might have all the answers to the World’s problems.”

#Original Work #Original Characters #steampunk #steampunk story #steampunk writing #writing #feral woman #feral #Fantasy #Science Fiction and Fantasy #Yandere #Yandere Story #The Forest of God's Missing Eye #yandere writing #Maurice Halpine #Clarence Dawyon #n.s.f.w #one short n/s/f/w scene

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trashcanwriting · 6 years ago

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The Forest of God's Missing Eye

Chapter 0: God’s Missing Eye

Summary:

Next Chapter: Chapter 1: Maurice Halpine and Clarence Dawyon

God's Missing Eye, a forest in the Southern Region, is a mysterious location that many have tried and failed to discover. After years of research and planning; Maurice Halpine has successfully arrived to the realm of rumor and conspiracy, alongside Clarence Edwards and his crewmen. What discoveries he had expected to make- he didn't expect her.God's Missing Eye, the forest that has remained a mystery for the Great British Empire for so many generations. Uncharted land of miles and miles of undiscovered creatures and plant life. The forest had strong, lush trees that act as a barrier, a wall to the interior of the vast grasslands. Nothing is known of what is within the forest; folklore and rumor are the only answers you could find. Stories of how the Devil remains there on Earth, how monsters lay wake, or the forest was the final resting place for souls.

Travelers, adventurers, and even colonists long before him have tried and failed to come this far to God's Missing Eye, the mountains and travel leading to the forest was dangerous and without the proper knowledge, will guarantee the death of the poor fellow who attempted this journey. To harsh elements, the predatory animals, and untrustworthy mountains made the travel deadly. So many of the King’s colonists had tried to make the trip to the new location, only to expire halfway through the long process.

The God's Missing Eye is located in the Great Ocean, just off the coast of the Southern Region, three mountains stood connecting the beach and island forest. These mountains had no path for humans, nothing to help protect him, the supplies he brought was the only he had until he reached the location, hopefully, where he would find more supplies he could use.

Luckily, he had gotten a budget from a few wealthy benefactors and the university. He was able to purchase motorwagens, high-class weapons, and the best crew to make passage through. The travel took many months, and during that time, there was one death, a younger soldier. He was mauled to death by a lion, the burial was quick but respectful.

One of the other crew members wrote up a letter to his family, proclaiming him a hero. Maurice hoped despite it being overzealou; the message would be giving the family whatever closure they might have needed.

Throughout the traveling, he had to manage the pace, crew, and his manuscript. Leaving him little time for socialization or befriending the crewmen. The only other person he knew well enough was young Damyon. He traveled close with the fresh graduate Clarence Damyon; he chose for him to be an assistant of sorts. Doctor Halpine wanted him to keep a fresh opinion and analysis on what they would find. Clarence was an idealist at heart; the world was black and white to him. For his closed-minded nature, Maurice was surprised by how many discoveries and well-crafted transcripts the college student had succeeded.

When they had finally arrived to the last mountain, Maurice had felt nothing but pride. It was the finale stepping stone to greatest discovery of their generation. The last mountain they were met with blistering heat. The odor of sweat was lingered amongst the crew, and people seemed more exasperated than usual. Even Clarence, the ordinary positive young man had snapped at Maurice a few times during the transportation. The motorwagens did help by allowing gusts of cooler air to splash over their faces for some relief, the men had begun to wear less, and water supplies were becoming low.

It was midday, and Maurice had covered his eyes with his left arm to avoid the sun as Clarence had taken the turn to drive them for the next few miles. He was drifting to sleep, muscles relaxing slowly before Clarence began to shout. "My Lord! There… There it is!" He exclaimed, as Doctor Halpine nearly jumped from his body at the words. He removed his arm, allowing his eyes to take in the dense woodland.

Far ahead, there stood the forest- he sat up, holding onto the side of the motorwagen. "God's Missing Eye… Beautiful…"

He wasn't surprised he had made it, proud, of course. But he has planned the travel for many years, gathering the correct tools, the proper transport and crew to survive the curvy mountains and creatures who laid awake for them.

He stood at his most significant accomplishment, making it this far to the forbidden land, the place God has forsaken and the Devil has taken keep- lifting the photographer to his view, he snapped a photograph of the broad trees and plant life that must have kept out anything the forest did not want inside.

Clarence stood aside him, holding his suitcase full of supplies for analyzing, already taking an interest in the outside of the forest in great lengths.

"A tree.. fence, how queer." The young scientist plucked a leaf from one of the many bushes. It was thick, thick as cloth and stretchy to the touch, he was quick to toss aside the piece. He then clipped another leaf off, assuring it plopped within a plastic bag for further testing when they returned to London.

"The forest does not want visitors, Clarence." The older scientist basks in the persisting fog that overflows from the trees’ interstices, the sounds of animals echoes ripping through the silence of the cliff. The rest of the crew were following behind slowly on the narrow corridor, the long passageway of the mountains finally ended with a bottomless cliff, with only a long strip of land to connect the forest to the other side of the hill.

The forest sat alone, a towering structure that only occupied the woods, and the dirt bridge. They did not know how sturdy the seemingly unearthly passover for the forbidden forest was, so they only rode one motorwagen at a time.

"You speak of it as if it has a soul." The younger scientist had chuckled, amused by the idea of such a thing. But Doctor Hapline smiled at the other, throughout his life as a scientist, things have come and left that could not be explained by the logic of man. Maurice knew God's Missing Eye laid secrets that he may not be ready for. Creatures that humans weren't meant to see.

But as Adam and Eve, and as the colonists before him, the human experience was to push and find what the universe wanted to conceal.

"We might just find it does possess such a soul, what we do now, will change the history of research." He followed the path of the forest, the barrier circled the small mountain in an unearthly manner. It was a perfect ring from the dirt and sand to green woodland like someone had placed the woods where it did not belong.

Clarence had grown impatient, raising his switchblade to slash the walls separating him from countless discoveries. As he thrust his arm downward, Maurice's hand was quick to grab his wrist. "Now, we don't need to destroy the land we are researching. We follow the laws of this forest."

As soon as the crewmen were finally at the small island amongst the mountains, they were told to wait for the two as they checked the ability to enter the barrier, if it was impossible, Maurice might have to break one of his oldest rules, follow the law of the land. It was how he survived this long in his dangerous career, respect the realm, and most of the time, it will respect you.

The slips between the trees were narrow, and the two scientists fought to get past them. Clarence, being more sprung of the two, got past faster than the older. Maurice wasn't complaining. He had gotten through quick enough. Once he had pushed through, he had fallen to his side as the sounds of soaked sticks and leaves squished underneath him. The murk was heavy inside the forest and despite the harsh rays of sunlight outside, the forest was dark. The overgrowth of the trees kept an umbrella over the woodland, causing an almost indoor effect.

As if stepping into another reality, the desert climate dissolved into a dark, misty place. Without the sun, the land dimmed, the floor was muddy, with the debris of the life there was marinated in the dirtied water.

"It's.. nothing I imagined," Clarence spoke, his hand releasing the pocket knife back inside his pocket as the two watched the new surroundings. The flowers were dirty, earthy colors, with grass so long it went to their calves. The trees had vines and wrapping plant life that followed the looming bark upward. The trees were so high. They could barely see the tops. The bark was smooth and impossible to climb with human hands.

Maurice noticed, however, something had been crawling upward upon these unique trees.

The trees, all over them, had small puncture wounds, going in a pattern to the top- or, at least until he could no longer make out the minute detail. He ran his fingers over the small holes, before digging a digit inside- the gaps were larger than his fingertip, but not by much. "We've hardly scratched the surface. Clarence, bring your photographer here."

Clarence snapped from his blissful daze, coming to the man's side in haste. "Any creatures yet?"

"No, these carvings in the bark interests me. Care to snap a few pictures?" The man stepped aside, allowing the younger to have full access to the sight. Mumbling to himself, the younger came and stood in front of the tree.

"Surprised that in this forest, this is what interests you." Clarence almost had a teasing tone, kneeling beside the man as he snapped the first still life of their research- he wouldn't want to get these published without the pictures.

"You must realize, I have done my fair share of expeditions. Something like this on the trees? All of the trees? This is definitely noteworthy." Maurice crossed his arms, tapping a finger against his sleeve. His distaste had flown over the other's head, as the other was now photographing the vines and different growths upon the bark.

"The plants look so different than London." Clarence continued to take photos of different angles of the bark, as Maurice grew silent as he spoke. Clarence was in his early twenties, fresh from college, and beginning his first research expedition. Maurice selected him for his grades and incredible breakthroughs while only in university; but he was still so inexperienced.

"The plant life looks quite different to most I have seen, and these aren't native to this region either. I would take photographs of them also." The man straightened his back, allowing the two to fall into silence. He listens to the echoes of the land, full of noises he had yet to hear in a place like this. The forest was not humid as it was outside. Instead, profuse moisture kept the air cool and a bit chilled.

The forest was contrasting itself, from the tropical-like plants and wet, cold climate. He had yet to see any animals, which had to be impossible, perhaps the animals knew to hide from strangers. He wouldn't be surprised by logical, sentient creatures- though it would make things much harder. He stood, the only noise was Clarence's photographer, he stilled, wanting to hear more. He held his photographer tighter, ready to capture the still of whatever he could find.

What felt to be hours- that were only mere seconds- came to a stop when he noticed he heard soft, almost silent movement to his left. He knew he had to be careful, for whatever it was, could be easily scared or provoked- if it was a predator. He trudges forward, hoping for the life of him Clarence would stay silent. He moved alongside the overgrowth and bushes, sidestepping and moving uncomfortably not to make a noise- he finally came upon where the movements on the surface came.

He nearly dropped the object in his trembling hands, breath heavy as he realized what he stared at. His heart paused, before he slowly kneeled, holding the metal photographer to his eye to get the evidence, because no one would believe him otherwise.

There were three beings. The first two were nothing like he had seen. Their faces were almost primate-like; hairless in a small portion of their expression to show off their facial features. Their eyes were black, dull with a little white iris that darted endlessly as they ate the berries, roaming the small area.

Their jawlines were square, with long, sharp teeth displayed each time they opened their mouth. They had long, curling horns perched at the top of their foreheads, possibly for protection.

The creatures were eight feet, possessing black, matted fur, their hands and feet were free of any hair, having six fingers that became long claws at the tips. Their feet were just as their hands, except only having four digits. They were calm, relaxing on marshy ground as they seemed to communicate with one another. They spoke in yelps and squeaks, nothing he could understand.

His breath was caught in his throat, a new species, one that he and his crew had found. That alone made his heart race, his forehead damp with sweat, but the third being among them is what made his heart nearly stop.

A human sat beside one of the creatures, picking the berries that grew off a tree. He almost mistook the human for one of their young, but there was no doubt now that he focused on the form.

It was a woman, he did not know her age, but she was older, early adult, late adolescent. She was filthy, her hands black with grime, dirt spotting her face, with her legs and torso layered in mud. Her hair was knotted, crusted with dust: The mane was long, going to her lower thighs, almost as if a shield for her back.

Unlike her companions, she was only five foot, her nails were short, and she had such pale, lifeless skin. She looked as if she had never seen the sun- perhaps not, for how the forest had none. She was pressed against one of the creatures, eating berry after berry, making her noises after they speak.

He couldn't help himself, pressing the button, activating the photographer as it made a loud 'SNAP.' Of course, the two creatures were alerted of him. He hoped, for he was the same species as the woman who sat beside them, they would be less cautious.

The human's eyes shot to the sound, and the moment she laid eyes on him, she froze. Her irises shrank, chest rising and falling faster as she gazed upon him as one would a ghost. He kept every muscle in his body still, hoping, pleading he could come closer to these things. The one closest one grabbed the human, using their claws to climb up the tree as the other was already climbing up another tree, holding a handful of the berries.

He almost wanted to chase after them; he wanted to see where they went. It was impossible; he knew it too. So he raised his arms again, taking as many pictures as he could as they race up to the branches of the trees, disappearing along with them. Hearing such a motionation, he knew Clarence would follow suit.

When he heard the running, the panicked breath, the bushes, and other things being trampled, he could only smile, turning on his heels to meet the eyes of the younger. The other scientist ran until he could see Maurice, who kept an eager grin.

"Clarence, you are going to want to see this." He steps forward, holding the preview screen of his handheld device with such excitement, Clarence just knew he had only to have found a new species in this forest while he was busy taking pictures of the plants.

It was evening, the cold air coming, freezing them as the sweat still laid on them. One of the other crewmen had begun a fire, as the cook made a stew of beans and carrots, not the meal Maurice would have hoped for, but it was good to fill his stomach after exploring the entire day away. Though, the two bothered little with their meals, staring into the glass screen of his photographer.

"A woman… living with those things?" Clarence furrowed his brows, taking the metallic machine from the other's grasp, taking in the creatures, and the woman so comfortably aside them. "She barely looks to be a woman."

"She is a feral woman. I have only seen a few cases in research books. I wonder if there is a tribe." Marice took spoonfuls of the meal between his words. Clarence seemed less than pleased.

"If there was a tribe of humans, wouldn't she be with them?" Clarence pondered aloud, clicking the copper button to slide through the rest of the photographs. "Could they have her confused with their young?"

"She looks as if she has been there for many years." He began, as Clarence took another peek at her- it was true. She looked unclean, without proper clothes or hair supplies it seems. No, she has been here for some time.

"What is the plan for her then?"

"We do not disturb the natural order of things, and we research, analysis from afar. We will watch for the months we have planned to, and when we leave for London, then we make a decision."

"She has to come with us. She's human." Clarence pressed on, how could they leave her? She was meant to be with other humans- not the evolved primates in the still-lives.

"Now now, she is in the forest. She could be much less human than we realize, she might be a youth of their species. We need to know everything before we storm the place and ruin the natural order." Marice shook his head, he did admire wanting to help, yet, she could be many things, and attempting to take her could cause so many problems. Besides, she might only look human.

"If she is. She has to come with us."

"We will see." He shook his head. He didn't feel the need to discuss it. It was as simple as that. He wanted to worry about his research; his research would also involve her of course. He knew that getting this far, arriving at God's Missing Eye was something he would not waste simply because of the feral woman.

The Missing Eye had many secrets in those woods, and he wanted to find every single one out. That was an adventure for tomorrow, for now, he finished the dinner, washed up and returned to his tent for the night. This would be his life's best work, and he intended to spend months to years completing it, making it perfect. Clarence would understand once they return to London, successful scientists, with the world knowing their names. Possibly, Clarence might also have a new project at the end of this trial; civilize a feral woman from the Devil's Forest.

Notes:

A short chapter to simply establish the overall plot, thank you so much for reading! Next chapter will be much longer

#Original Work #Yandere Story #Steampunk #Science Fiction and Fantasy #Fantasy #Writing #Story #Feral Woman #Steampunk Story #Steampunk Writing #Just white men coming and fucking things up as usual #The world all belongs to the same government just cut up all around the world #random objects have different names #Camera = Photographer #The Forest of God's Missing Eye #Yandere #Yandere Writing

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trashcanwriting · 6 years ago

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Commonwealth Survival Guide

Chapter 2: All I Have To Do Is Dream

Summary:

Released from her own personal torture, Evangeline is now forced to try and escape the Vault on her own- now trapped in complete isolation.

Song to Inspire Title: All I Have To Do Is Dream by the Everly Brothers

Previous Chapter: America Of Tomorrow, Yesterday!

She was imprisoned back into her cryogenic pod the moment she had tasted freedom from being locked away, the moment the child felt they were being released, her mind was brought into the unconscious state she could only vaguely remember. It was a blurring experience, feeling like a dream she couldn't remember the morning after.

Inside her mind for so long, she did not dream, create fantasies or a life for herself in her mind. Memories, things she remembers, is all that floated through her head on a constant repeat. So, she was frozen, where her memories continuously played, with no escape in sight.

The memories felt real; she thought she was still in Aunt Nora and Uncle Nate's house. She felt the hugs and kisses and playing with Louis. One memory she always seemed to gravitate to was the first time she had ever seen her birth mother. The memory was bitter-sweet, almost surreal moment in on itself. It was odd to her that was the point in time that seemed so important to her; it felt so minor to everything else.

Aunt Nora had sat her on the couch, showing her the family albums. Uncle Nate was still in the war, and she had found out some months back her father was dead. She didn't understand why the war was happening, but she hated it. She hated she had not seen Uncle Nate for almost six months, she lost her father to it, and now her Grandmother had refused rights of her.

Aunt Nora must have seen how upset she was, as Eva now sat with a Nuka cola in her hand as Aunt Nora lazily flipped through the pages.

She knew the usual pictures, the ones of her Aunt and Uncle's wedding, her first days of school, Aunt Nora in college, and even some of Uncle Nate and her father in their youth. She was used to these photos and seeing her father made her heart sink more.

Just as Eva was going to close the book, Nora had begun to turn past the pages she was so used to, adventuring to photographs she had never seen. Her Father and Uncle in college, of her Grandmother and Grandfather before they divorced- things Eva had yet to see. If she didn't feel so glump, she would have felt excitement.

"Do you know who this is?" Nora turned her head towards her, smiling warmly. Eva’s eyes followed towards her long fingernail tapping on a photograph.

The photograph was a baby and a woman, and what looked to be her father. The baby had a wisp of jet black hair just as hers, with her icy blue eyes. Her father gripped the shoulders of the woman, so tightly the fabric had been wrinkled by the force.

The baby was hanging off the hip of a young woman; scrawny with straight-leg cigarette pants and a tight, black turtleneck. She had one arm holding the baby, with the other hand making a peace sign. She had her tongue out in a toothy smile.

The woman had a happy grin, an expression so bright it looked like a child's face. "No.. it's not you."

The woman's blonde hair was so long it went all the way to her back- she had never seen a woman have hair that long.

"It's your mother, Betty." Nora was rubbing up against the child’s arm, as Eva tensed. She was never allowed to know who her mother was, the adults in her life avoided the question with either gentleness or simply changing the subject. Her father shut down on her once for asking, locking her in her room for thirty minutes but never said why she was in so much trouble.

She wasn't ever allowed to see her, her hesitant fingertips reached, and gently touched the flat picture. Her mother was holding a baby version of her- and Eva had a fistful of that long, shimmering blonde hair in one grime covered hand. The baby was only half interested in the photograph, sufficiently engrossed in the long mane of the woman.

"She looks different." She glanced back up at her Aunt, who chuckles, going to another page to show Betty sitting on a counter at some restaurant, hands up in an excessive shrug as she grinned, her hands flat at her shoulders on each side. Her legs were crossed, looking off to the corner with that same innocence from the first photo. Her father was in this one also, looking young and without the scars he had gotten from war.

He sat on a bar stool, facing the camera with a stiff posture. He didn't radiate the life or fun the woman did. Evangeline felt a ting of grief as she never got to know this woman.

"Oh, she was, a poetic activist... The only woman who told your father when he was a tight up meanie." She coos, making the child look back at the photo for the second peek- her father looked as he did in the photo albums from years ago. He had the same stern, stoic countenance he had when she knew him. A gloved hand was on the thigh of Betty. He wore his military attire- he always did in formal situations.

Vincint was always dignified; his short black hair had been combed in a precise, clean cut. His attire was always pressed; without wrinkles, without a stain. That uniform was his pride. It was hard thinking of his memory, now that he was gone.

"This was their pregnancy photo, it’s based off the first ever picture of them together."

Nora taps the photo on the next page, showing a much younger pair of the two, Betty was sitting on the same counter, holding a full glass of wine as Vincint had his hand on her knee instead of her thigh. Betty was wearing dungarees pants, a black and white striped shirt far too big for her, and a plain pair of white flatties. He wore a dark button-up cardigan and beige khakis. His posture was perfect- everything of him was neat and organized.

"Your mother loved poems. She named you after her favorite one." Aunt Nora pets her hair quietly as Evangeline continued through the pages of the album.

Eva began to have a big love for poems. It made her feel close to the woman in the pictures and stories. The laughing, happy woman who applied lipstick in the reflection of power armor and fought against the mistreatment of people in America. Aunt Nora fully embraced this new found love and gifted her a poem book on her seventh birthday.

Eva cherished the book full of poems, with an attached ribbon bookmark, the cover was thick, made of leather. She felt so adult when she read the lyrics or carried it around the school. It was her show-and-tell five times in a roll. Those memories, of her mother, seemed happy. Her mother left behind an idea of a perfect woman.

Memories of her father were more bitter. She has memories of being yelled at for not making her bed correctly or getting grounded for getting B's in schools. He wanted perfection from a five-year-old, and she could never provide that. He was so stoic until she did something he didn't enjoy, and then he would become so angry.

It sent a wave of sorrow across her family when he was officially dead- his stream of holotypes had dried, the usual reports, that felt like an official document, where he stated how many he had killed, what weapons used, and what he ate.

Only in passing did he ever mention he missed his daughter or his mother, but that was usually as a side note. He was an abrasive man, when not shipped off on the front of the war, Eva would dread his homecomings and stay with him. He had a strict schedule, which had to be followed precisely.

Even out of the battlefield, he wanted it, he had been raised as a military brat, and he wanted that childhood for her also. He expected high performance for everything she did, and she would feel drained by his visits. When shipped off somewhere, Grandmother Ethelyn or Aunt Nora would care for her. She rathered them much more.

Aunt Nora lived in Boston, and her Grandmother lived on the coast of Maryland. So the only times she would see Aunt Nora was if Grandmother Ethelyn was going for surgery, requiring someone else watching the child, or holidays when the family would all gather together. She hardly knew Aunt Honora at the time.

Grandmother Ethelyn was an acerbic woman, and she was not gentle or kind like other grandmothers in television or books she had read. She couldn't call her Granny or Grandma like other children; she was to be referred to as Grandmother Ethelyn, even before she could pronounce it correctly, she would have to attempt to say it- even if it was more gibberish at that point.

She was similar to her father but much more watered down on the strict expectations and the life she had to suffer through him. She expected Eva to be independent: Eva was taught to cook, clean, and care for herself once she could walk and form a sentence. She was no-nonsense and expected Eva to be a little lady always.

The rules, the chores, the studying that she had to do, she never felt unloved or not enough. Grandmother Ethelyn told her she was a brilliant child, that she would do amazing things as an adult. If anyone bullied Eva, Grandmother Ethelyn would wait outside the child's house more fired up than a guard dog on a trespasser. Unlike her father, she never felt she could lose her Grandmother's love.

Grandmother Ethelyn was the strongest woman she knew. She could intimate women and men alike. Eva would always feel so protected by her Grandmother. She was a strong woman, who did heavy lifting and labor even in her older years despite her relatives pleading for the old woman to slow down.

She was tough and said everyone needed to be tough in times of wars. She expected Evangeline to be so strong, even if Evangeline couldn't be like her Grandmother, who could lose so much and still be so strong, who could watch her sons go to war and always love her country.

She had never seen Grandmother Ethelyn cry before her Father’s funeral, and if she didn't see it, she might not have believed it. She had seen the woman with a broken leg drive herself to the hospital, cursing and angrily shouting the entire way.

Aunt Nora told her emotional pain was worse; saying she lost her family, and that hurt worse than any physical pain. Evangeline knew that was true, as when they lowered her father into the muddy ground, the senior woman sobbed and screamed, falling to her knees. Grandmother reached for the coffin, and one of her distant male relatives had to grab the poor, grieve stricken woman from jumping in after the coffin.

Her Grandmother screamed and wailed. She kept saying the coffin was empty; her son couldn't have been buried in the soil of the country he loved so much. Evangeline was never allowed to know how her father died, but reliving that memory, the memory of Aunt Nora squeezing her hand so tight it felt it would break, she realized how this is what broke the family, the close-knit community the Clawsons made across the states.

When the worst day of Eva's life was over, Grandmother Ethelyn refused to care for Evangeline. She declined to share a hotel room with the child, and she had to bunk with her Aunt. She left for Maryland soon after and told Nora to get the child's possessions, including her dog. Aunt Nora was happy to gain rights of the six-year-old. Grandmother Ethelyn hadn’t looked at Evangeline the same anymore. She felt she did something wrong, but she never knew what.

Nora stopped going to the Holiday events and begun to refuse contact with Ethelyn after abandoning the child. Evangeline didn't know how to feel about it, but she was happy she got her dog back when Aunt Nora collected her things.

Those memories, the memories of her father's death, her dog running away and Grandmother Ethelyn's abandonment, it was the hard ones, she always seemed to cry harder each time. She wanted to remember only the happy, because still faintly, at the back of her mind, she recognized what was happening outside.

Her favorite memories were Uncle Nate's homecoming, her dog and the days they brought home Shaun, then Codsworth. She always wanted to relive those, the tight hugs she got from Uncle Nate when he scooped her up in his arms, the dinner was still Drumlin Diner. He would order a big burger and fries; because he says, that is what he misses the most.

The memory of when Shaun first came home, and she was allowed to hold him was always so peaceful. He was so little, soft. He wouldn't cry as much, and he would sleep all the time. He was like a baby doll, and Eva never stopped treating him like one.

The year where Shaun was born, when Uncle Nate returned from the war and Aunt Nora found work was the best memories of her life. She could vividly remember the taste of smoky burgers that Uncle cooked on his grill in the backyard, she could almost feel Louis' tight grip on her wrist when he dragged her off to play, the way Codsworth would lift her by the underarms with his grabbers when she kept running.

She remembered sitting in her Uncle's lap, listening so excitedly to the Silver Shroud stopping bad guys. She could remember her Aunt's tender hands holding her cheeks in her hands to plant a kiss on her forehead, she even remembered long drives through Boston with Shaun in his car seat hung over the seat, with her dog's head on her lap. She had never felt so calm and loved before that year.

In these memories, she was safe; she didn't have to remember her Uncle and cousin were stolen, how she was left behind. Maybe she was dead, and this was heaven. By the constant stream of dreams, she was never able to think upon this situation thoroughly. Her body was not her own. Her voice was not her own, it only acted out what she remembered. Like a corrupted recorder, she couldn't break from the cycle.

She couldn't change the past, and no matter how much she tried on that test, when she came home, she was still smacked and yelled at by her father.

She was reliving another numbing day of school when everything went black, it was sudden, without warning and she was drowned in darkness. She couldn't feel herself breathing, nor could she move, the panic set into her mind before her eyes shot open, snapping the daze of unconsciousness as all the memories fade, her mind drew blank of all the time she had spent reliving those memories.

Her lungs took heavy inhales, causing the poor girl to cough as the icy air poorly settled in her lungs. Her body felt weak and beaten, her fingers numb from the ice that surrounded her, that laced her jumpsuit and flesh. The pod releases the door, causing her body to slam against the hard flooring below.

What happened when she was refrozen was bleary, but she had stood and tried to bang on the door of the pod. Which caused her to fall over once the seal had been broken, lifting the metal flap of the clamber. She curled on the hard surface; She was so overwhelmed, her body ached and shivered, her heartbeat felt so slow. She couldn’t think straight past how freezing everything felt, how soaked her jumpsuit was.

She curled, her knees pressed to her chest as she tried to regain her warmth, huffing her lukewarm breath on her redden knuckles. It was such a contrast her mind was blank, attempting to recover.

The ice slowly melted off her, only causing her to become more cold, she held onto her soaked sweater, sniffling quietly. She shut her eyes tight, pretending her Uncle had scooped her up in his warm arms like that winter night when she had fallen in the snow.

She was only semi-conscious, drifting in and out of sleep, her body felt weak with exhaustion, but she didn't want to sleep, she had slept so long- why was she so tired? Her fisted hands were to her mouth, trying to soak in the warmth of her quiet whimpers and breath. Before her, she saw the doll she had been trapped with- laying right beside her. Her hands extend, slowly pulling the comfort item to her chest.

She recovered slowly, her head lifting to see the pod of her Uncle's- emptied. She stampers up, on her feeble knees and hurried across the room to the pod. She had tried to slam her fists against the window, but her eyes caught the lever.

She pulled it down, panicked and moving erratically. The door unsealed, slowly opening. She shoved her head inside once the door had opened wide. The icy water still dripped from the chair, where no one sat. The room was cold, so cold she couldn't stop her trembling. She stood, on sore feet towards the pod that was next to her. Aunt Nora was still inside, feeling a flicker of hope, she trudged towards the glass window of the shell.

Her arms were tightly wrapped around her, her thighs pressed together, panting as she looked to the lever, reaching a meek hand out and pulling it downward. It rang a noise of error, making the young girl released a choked cry of panic.

'Malfunction in Cryo Pod manual release override.' The child had no concept of what the voice meant, panic beginning to fill her senses as the door would not open. She kept slamming the lever handle upward, then down, trying to force it to work. The same error noise came, making her grip tighter against the switch.

She tried the other clambers, gaining the same response. "-Hello? Anyone!?" She yelled, hearing her voice bounce off the walls, her only answer was the humming of machines and the leaking icicles.

Eva couldn't stay calm, she was a child, alone, in a place she didn't know. She started to bunch her fists in her black bob, beginning to pull downward. It was a nervous habit, her doctor said, she missed the rough hands of her Uncle's who pulled her wrists so gently away from her hair, and how her Aunt would run her thin fingers through her hair, humming a calming tone to get her to untense.

But Evangeline didn't have this comfort now, she had to begin her breathing methods to calm herself down- she needed her Uncle, or a scientist, to get her Aunt out of the pod. That wouldn't be hard, she found adults all the time where she thought there were none. She removed her hands from her hair, gingerly, as she saw all the black strands on her palm. She narrowed her eyes as she realized what she had done.

She had pulled her hair again, that wasn't good- she hasn't done that since her father died. She waves the strands the best she could, but her clammy hands kept the strands glued to her skin. Frustrated, she just rubbed her hands against the skin-tight suit. She felt so constricted in the blue suit, wet and cold. It was like a constant hose of cold water sprayed over her.

Walking past the sleeves of chambers, the echoes of her footsteps reminded her of how alone she indeed was. When she breathed, soft wisps of clouds left her lips, the constant sound of dripping water followed her in these metal, blue walls. She hated it. She missed her warm house, where her stuffed toys and blanket were, where Codsworth was.

The bay door slides apart as she began towards it, letting out a soft noise of relief as she saw the emptied corridor. The hallway was once filled with people and scientists, but now all that laid was a scattered toolbox, and a few other miscellaneous possessions laid alone. She longed for the steady hand that guided her this far before, and the voices that echoed off the metal shell of the Vault.

Now all she heard was her heavy breathing and the spattering of the dripping water. Everything was cold and foggy, making everything even more uncomfortable. She felt as if a monster, maybe the rubber-skinned one that took her Uncle away- would be here any minute to snatch her up.

Clinging to her damp stuffed companion, she stood before the tall door, tilting her head when it wouldn't open. She placed a hand upon the chilled metal, feeling a shiver journey from her palm to her spine. Eva gulped, realizing the entrance would not open for her. She looked about the short hall, two doors stood opposite the wall of the other.

She held onto the doll tighter, brushing her cheek against the head of the thing as she attempted the next door beside her, watching it open before her. She exhaled a breath she had not realized when she saw the next room. Her chest heaved with sudden excitement, as she knew adults must be close. Someone who help children like her find her Uncle or get her Aunt out of those cold pods- any adult, who could fix what was happening to her.

That was what adults did. Uncle Nate had taught her to go to adults for problems, from scraped knees to feeling lost on a math problem. The sight before her came alive as the door slid upward into the wall, a long, blue staircase stood before her.

The stairsteps had minor aging, some of the yellow paint had chipped, as the metal beneath her had rusted from the constant moisture in the air. She felt she would slip and fall from the slick texture of the flooring beneath her feet. Her black boots squeak as she held onto the saturated railing, using it as support as her other hand pressed tightly against the doll on her chest.

Her steps echoed, intertwining with the other noises- she couldn't help but feel the isolation. As she entered the new area of the Vault, she noticed the fog was less dense here, in this small room, yet outside the window, she could still see the thick fog that lingered where the pods had been. Eva's eyes were unfocused, simply roaming as she strolled her way through before she saw a large, darkened spot on the window.

Tilting her head, she attempted to get a closer look- only for the spot to crawl down from the window, towards the metal floor. Her heart sank, beating against her ribcage to a painful degree. It was some giant bug! The biggest she had ever seen! Her free hand went to the collar of her sweater, taking a cautious step back as the bug seemed to take more interest in something else, flying off the window- she realized it had been on the other side of the window pane.

She stood there, struggling to recover- she swallowed thickly as she squeezed the comfort item, evening her breath. Her hands were holding tightly on her sweater so she would not pull her hair again- Uncle said it was a bad habit and she needed to learn to stop. She bit her lip, chewing at the inner flesh of her lower lip until she felt a calm wave over her once more. She inhaled, releasing all the tension in her body.

Moving forward, she took a moment to scan the layout of the lower section she had indentured to- the small place only had one sliding door, so, she began towards it. Her eyes glance back to the higher zone she had just departed from, she had no idea of how large this vault was so she may might get lost.

Eva made a mental note as she walked through, she wished she had some chalk, she had some in her room, but she was rushed out so fast, she couldn't have brought anything but Booboo. The next door was just as the others, unadorned with the yellow label of '111' upon it. The door opened for her when she stepped forward, allowing her to travel further inside the maze she had been stuck in.

The long, curling corridor had beige paint to it, perhaps she was near the end! The lights dimmed, this room had no fog, but the dust was flowing inside the room inside the rays of shining illuminations. Her pace quickened, finding yet, another door in front of her. She was becoming sick of the sight of doors and new rooms and then another door. She looked down to Booboo.

She tried to soothe her nerves humming a song, humming a quiet tone her Aunt would play while she read over a case. It was a song her mother used to love when she was younger, as she was told. She swayed her head to the tune in her mind, as the next sliding door released her from the room, revealing the next one.

Blue returned to this room, it was much larger with a table only a few feet from her, when she scanned over her surroundings, she saw an opened kitchen area and another door. Her hand grazes across her torso, feeling the sudden realization of how hungry she was. She had been dreaming of food she almost forgot she hasn't eaten for a while, maybe a week.

Her mind perked at the idea of food, she first went to the table, hoping for a clue to find an adult with. The surface had been barred of possessions other than a simple Beaton, the one with those guard used in those news footages she wasn't allowed to watch. She held it, it felt a bit wet, almost hard to use with such a lanky handle in her tiny hand.

She had only a moment to think, as she heard the slithering of something on the hard ground, rolling her heels to see another huge bug, and it was coming towards her! She tried to step back, newfound fear and panic slowing her speed to sluggish pace, as the roach lurched forward, it bit her ankle, and despite the thick layer of her boots, she felt the painful pinch of the bug bite.

The attack pierced the flesh, she screamed, swinging the new found weapon as she banged it over and over the now crushed corpse of the insect. She flopped backward on her backside, looking to her bloodied ankle- the fabric was torn as around the newly opened wound was becoming painted with red.

She wept there for some time, in frustration, in pain, in fear. She slammed her fist against the floor, having a fit as she couldn't take it anymore. It felt like a nightmare, big, scary bugs, all alone, and the creepy noises that followed her in this vault. She slammed her feet against the metal floor, crying heavily, yelling until her throat was sore. This continued until her cheeks were streaked with salty tears, her voice was rasped and her eyes were dried from crying them all out.

After a moment of rocking as she held her doll, she sat back up, going towards the kitchen area. Though, despite searching thoroughly, there was no food to be found. She felt so hungry, so thirsty, how could there be nothing? She went through the bedroom with the bunk beds, but it was bare. Everything was so bare.

The rooms were stripped, and without a sign of life but in the littering trash. She felt slighted, she just wanted to eat! She just wanted her Uncle and Cousin safe, or for her Aunt's pod to open! Why wouldn't anything work? She rubs her face in exasperation, letting out grumbles and murmurs. Leaving the room, she came to the next one. This one had some lighting shooting out from the large, box-like structures in the center of the room. This room was large but looked to the only house whatever these large, lightning boxes were.

Being soaking wet, she knew she didn't want to get a shock. She presses to the wall, sliding past before she heard the same crawling from before. She barely had time to smack the head of the thing with her Beaton before it flew up again. She hated that those terrible things could fling itself at her.

When she got to the next door, she found what looked to be an office of some sort, everything was muddled and messy, like the rest of the vault. The decay was still here, and she found something in the chair of the long desk. Her eyes fluttered at it; mind drew blank before she came to the sense it was a Halloween skeleton. It was October! She kneels before what she had presumed was a prop.

She stood back up, turning as she took a full look at the room.

"Hello? Anyone!" She shouts, she had wandered inside the Overseer's bedroom, finding yet, another emptied room. She looked through the locker, only to find a box of bullets and a single messager bag, thick blue leather with Vault-Tec's logo embedded on. She slid it over her shoulder, she promised to return it to the owner when she found them.

Eva grunts, trying to keep herself from boiling over again. Was she really all alone here? Vault-Tec was supposed to help her, keep her safe. She returned to the main office for the overseer, guns scattered alongside the surface with some needles-like weapons. Her eyebrows furrow, knowing what this was, a stimpack. She hated stimpacks! She had to take one when she broke her arm riding a bike, Uncle shoved it into her arm and pressed the button. Something foreign, wrong, entered her, going through her bloodstream.

But her broken arm healed on the way to the hospital, they were so fast and when she grew used to the feeling, painless. They came commonly in first aid kits and even Aunt Nora had some stored in the bathroom's mirror cabinet. She grabbed one, stabbing the needle into her shoulder as she pushed the chemicals into her bloodstream. She felt them course, making her fingers curl in reaction.

The wound on her ankle, the minor bruises of being tossed out of the pod and frostbite faded from her skin. She grabbed the next two, placing them inside the emptied bag as she continued around the room, anything that looked interesting she would take. For a child, anything shiny or unique to her world view.

She saw the gun on the counter; Uncle Nate would be so angry if he saw her with a gun without adult observation. He had taught her faintly how to hold one and aim, but she wasn't truly shown how to use one. She held the gun. It was so much more massive than one would think, the trigger didn't seem to have hesitation as she did; a quivering finger could kill a man without a thought.

The pistol laid a new weight in her palm, holding the handle tightly. The idea of shooting a roach up gave her more peace of mind than that Beaton that she had stashed away in her newly found bag- she would return it to whoever it belongs to when she found an adult. She tried to make her way out to the next door, seeing it not opening like the other one. Her hand presses to the door, but still, the metallic door would not budge.

"Dang it!" She shouts, stamping her feet as she was met with another locked door. She crosses her arms, taking the sight of the small room once more. The room but bare of everything but the terminal that still laid on the surface- she had taken everything else.

Moving the Halloween prop, She sat the comfy seat up. She seated herself as it creaked in old age. She attempted to start up the poor thing. The computer outer layer was full of decay of time and tears. Her caregivers had a family terminal so she could understand the general layout.

Her eyes perk at the option to open the tunnel door. She clicked it within seconds of reading it, before happily crawling off the chair and hurrying off towards the door. She lifted her shoulders, grinning with glee as she opened the door all on her own!

She ran towards the door, only to find the population of roaches that were on the wall. She moved slowly, lifting the pistol in her hand and aiming the barrel at the first.

She pulled the trigger, she felt the wind knocked out of her, the bones in her hand trembled. Evangeline cried out, stepping back and recoiling in sudden pain. Her ears rang as she used the hand holding her doll to grip against her earlobe.

She had only used a BB gun before; a real gun was so much worse. She barely had time to recover when the same creeping of insect feet filled the air. How in the world was there so many? With little time for thought, she had begun to bang the barrel of the gun as a weapon.

Each slam of the metal against bug made a disgusting crushing of guts and innards. She shivers at the sound, stepping back at the dead bugs she had just slaughtered.

The gun was now coated in bug remains, she gagged, tossing the dirty thing in her bag as she went for her Beaton again. Luckily enough, the gun did the job as a Beaton and got rid of the rest of the disgusting things. She stepped past the crushed spatters, going towards the next door.

Another beige room was what she was met with, she felt the tingle of hope drain from her form as she trudged forward, feeling near tears. She follows the curve of the room, holding the handle of her Beaton tight. She was going to get out, she would escape. She would find Vault-Tec workers and get her Aunt out, she would find Policeman who would get back her stolen loved ones. She felt so exhausted, so mentally and physically tired from running about the small Vault, she didn’t know if she believed that anymore.

She couldn't go much longer, she wanted to go home. To see Codsworth, and if Ducky had been found yet. She came to the next door, releasing a breath she had not known she was keeping in her lungs and walked forward to the metallic pane to see if she was finally out.

The door slid apart, to display the room that seemed she was in only a moment prior with her Uncle. The room was cold, with a moist fog that lingered. The room smelled of stale water and something rotten, Evangeline couldn't put her finger on the odor. She moved forward, feeling the fatigue placing weight on her shoulders.

The roach came forward, barreling towards her before she swung the Beaton a single time, hearing the scream-like squash as it laid motionless, crushed to death in one smack. It was getting easier to kill those things, and she was happy for that, she couldn't handle another thing hurting her.

She sidestepped the props that littered in the floor and the sideways table.

She walked to the platform, and tried to remove the plastic cover of the button, grunting in another wave of frustration washed over her, she had begun to bang her fist on the plastic lid of the electric board. She stomped her foot once before she felt an object bounce off the blue, rusted floor. Evangeline glanced down, to find a Pip-Boy in the wrist of a decor skeleton.

Her Uncle wanted one so badly, but they could never afford one. Aunt Nora said he should have been gifted one for being a War Hero, she kneels, lifting the dusty thing to her face. She drew a smiley face in the dust covering the screen, she knew this would be a great present for her Uncle! She snapped it to her wrist, flicking a couple of the buttons until it came online.

She smiled at it functioning, wiping off the rest of the dust with her sweaty palm. The smeared screen still allowed her to see the Vault Boy holding a thumbs up at her, making her instinctively copy his gesture back at the screen. She copied the Vault Boy's thumb pose when she saw it- her Uncle would laugh when she did it. Her face fell as she tore her eyes from the screen, finding herself isolated with only the hums of the machine to be her friend.

Evangeline was happy for a new toy, but she still needed to get out of the metal cage. She felt the hanging cord from the Pip-Boy dangling and bumping against her stomach, she grabbed it and glanced over the metal piece meant to connect to something. So, she inserted it inside the hole of the board, joyous as it entered, and the plastic lid flew upward.

She nearly jumped in pure joy for how fast that was- she was almost out! Almost to adults! She slammed her palm against the button. Her reaction was cut short only seconds in her celebration by the sudden flashing of lights.

'Vault door cycling sequence initiated. Please stand back.’

The Vault suddenly became dim, with only flashing white lights being the source of electricity. An orange circling spotlight began to activate- so much happened at once that Evangeline covered her ears, whining at the surroundings becoming slurred and different.

The Vault door was unsealed by the box machine that hooked from the ceiling moving forward, connecting to the door and pulling it side, so she was quick to hurry and climb atop the gate platform. The machine shook to action, beginning to connect to the Vault door slowly. It squeaked and whined in protest as it was rusted and time withered, barely able to make the journey to get her to the other side.

There, she was met with the same steps she was forced up with her Uncle, the same water dripping and robotic hums she had grown used to. The paint was rusted and peeled, giving the place an abandoned, aged appearance. The metal husk of the bunker was silent other than what she did, how her footsteps echoed, how her voice traveled through the halls. The total isolation was bringing her closer to panic. The lack of adults and live made her so nervous, she couldn't wait to get out of the Vault, to see adults and Louis.

The adrenaline was fading, she could feel the weakness in her legs and the wear of her mind. She could imagine nights of falling asleep on her Uncle's lap while listening to the Silver Shroud, where she would be half awake as she was carried to her bedroom, then tucked in. She would be given a kiss on the forehead by him, his warm palm running over her cheek. She ran her petite hand over her cheek in the same fashion, hoping for the same effect- but her chilled flesh didn't give the same comfort.

Nights of being sung British nursery rhymes from Codsworth and Aunt Nora's silky voice filled her tired mind as she made her way down the steps. The echoes of her own feet almost mocked her by how loud it was, how the dripping water rang in her ears, it was silent, lifeless.

Where were the adults? They were everywhere before, filling the rooms to the brim but now, now it was so quiet. Quieter than waking up at night in her suburban home, quieter than locking herself in her room after school to read books and poems, the silence was numbing her brain.

She stepped onto the elevator, and without her having to so much as lift a finger, it began to close the metal barring, trapping her inside. The child chose then that she was freed and safe, it was time to allow herself to give in to all the overwhelming emotions she felt. She allowed her legs to give out on her, flopping down on the floor below her.

Eva rested her legs, rubbing her calf as she glanced around her new surrounding. The shaky machine was slowly lifting her upwards. She hugged her knees to her chest, taking a moment to breathe- no adults were in the vault, they were all frozen, but she couldn't get them out. Maybe the rubber-skinned monster and her Uncle were in the surface, up above. But, that big explosion… what would that mean for everyone?

She covered her face in her knees, beginning to sob lost in her thoughts, of the realization that maybe she was all alone.The welling of tears finally beginning to pour. She whined meekly, allowing her shoulders to quiver and slack against her frame. She just wanted her Uncle, she wipes her nose, maybe Codsworth was still there, he always knew what to do, when she scraped her knees, when her caregivers weren't home and she needed a permission slip signed and it was the day of the field trip.

The darkness swallowed her, this time, she wasn't encased in strong arms and a soothing hand on her head. She was alone, shivering quietly, as she saw the entrance of the vault slowly open, sliding apart as rays of light shined through. It burned her irises, making her cover them at first as she was brought face to face with the outside world once more.

The warm washes over her frozen skin, her hand lowers from her eyes so she could see the beauty- all she saw a barren wasteland of death. The grass was dead or gone, the trees were stripped of life, and the prop skeletons from inside scattered the world surrounding her. It was so much more warm but louder, less welcoming than the vault. As her eyes roam the new realm she found herself in.

Evangeline could only wonder what new monsters laid awake for her here. The cold wind hit her flesh, as she slowly steps off the hard floor. "Hello!?" She called out, to anyone to hear her. She walked towards the gate, "Louis?" She cried, walking past the gate’s entrance towards the dirt path she knew so well.

The dirt path seemed more ominous than the last time she had been down this road, and the times she and Louis had been playing in the borderline of the forest. The way they could run from the curves of the trees, using leaves and sticks as ammo, and chasing each other from one side of the forest to another were some of her best memories.

Now, the leaves were gone from the bark; the wildlife she had loved was withered and gone. Leaving a pit of a feeling she could not describe, a lonely, isolated emotion. A feeling of being the only thing alive in such a place surrounded by death. On the new lonely road, she headed to the place where she thought Codsworth would be.

Her home, Sanctuary Hills.

#FanFiction #Writing #Fanfic #Fallout #Fallout 4 #Vault Tec #Child Sole AU #Child Sole Survivor Au #Evangeline #Oc #Original Characters #Canon-Typical Violence #Mentions of Abuse #Commonwealth Survival Guide

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trashcanwriting · 6 years ago

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Commonwealth Survival Guide

Chapter 1: America of Tomorrow, Yesterday!

Summary:

Unfrozen in a Hellscape she could not understand, Evangeline, the eight-year-old niece of Nathaniel and Nora Clawson, starts the journey to find her Uncle and Baby Cousin in the Commonwealth to reunite her family.

Next Chapter: All I Have To Do Is Dream

The day where the world was destroyed by War and radiation has been typically undocumented, people knew of that day in the Commonwealth, but no one really knew how fast it went, how one moment it was a calm Saturday morning and the next you were either dead, in the hands of Vault-Tec or underneath the ground in a home shifted bunker. How barely anyone knew if this was a drill or not until they were nothing more than Earth and soot. The way humans fought can be cruel. That would never change.

The day she lost her family because of the War she wouldn’t forget: the day was a chilled Saturday in October. A normal, lazy weekend day where kids were home, parents were relaxing on the couch and Mister Handies was doing yard work. The houses on the suburban road were quiet during these days, somewhere out already to Concord or in the yard to enjoy the mild weather.

The aura of the suburban cul de sac so much more relaxed during weekends, without school or the workload, the domestic took this time to enjoy themselves, and most importantly to the child, her bed. She had been awake for some time, lazily posed as the world slowly went by without her, eyes shut as she stayed motionless. Her arm looped around her doll, though she had many, only one was allowed in her bed. A stuffed toy named Booboo, she has had the toy since infancy: Her face stuffed into the stomach of the thing. Her face was towards the wall, forgetting all about the world outside.

The rays of sun that filtered through was tinted a cream pink by her lace drapes, bringing light to her brightly aesthetic bedroom. Saturdays were where she could laze around until her friend was ready to play, awaiting her newest comic edition or planning out her newest Halloween costume. She might have stayed in bed much longer than she was allowed, but she was stirred awake by her Uncle and Aunt’s Mister Handy robot.

She winced as her door creaked open, and the soft noise of the floating robot inched closer, he always made a whirring, hoovering sound. He had a booming voice and would not take a no for an answer- ever.

“Good morning, Young Ma’am! Your Sugar Bombs are awaiting you on the table!” The robotic happily chirped, exiting her room as soon as he came. She huffs, rolling onto her side, lifting herself by her elbows. She knew if she stayed in bed much too long, Codsworth would wake her much louder the next time he entered to check on her process of waking up.

Gathering all the energy she could, she rose from the soft mattress, crawling off the side of the bed onto the carpeted floor below her. Once out of her perch, she walked towards her dresser to pick her attire for that day. She felt a bit sleepy, but the ideas of Sugar Bombs and maybe sneaking a Nuka Cola was exciting enough to get her through getting ready.

Opening the double doors of her dresser, she slides the hangers of dresses one by one- all of which were stained, a bit ripped, or sun bleached from outdoor play. She chose the one with a mustard stain and a rip on the skirt where she had jumped over a gate: A casual black gingham jumper dress, with a long sleeve white button blouse. She was humming to herself, fastening one of her buttons on the jumper strap.

This dress was allowed to be ruined, unlike the second door of her storage, full of formal attire and fluffy socks that scratched her ankles. She didn’t enjoy wearing those, avoiding them at all cost. Yet, Aunt Nora had been talking up this evening for a week, and Evangeline knew she would suffer a tight hairstyle and uncomfortable dress in the very near future- of that evening.

Uncle Nate was having a speech at the Veterans Hall, somewhere in Cambridge. Aunt Nora had gone to the clothing shop and spent all afternoon finding a dress to best go with Uncle Nate’s suit. She knew she would have to brush her hair, attend without her sweater and being on her very best behavior. The idea of being stared at by all those people because she was Uncle Nate’s niece, related to the War Hero, and being judged for every step she made was nerve-racking.

She hoped Booboo could come, Aunt and Uncle never made her feel bad about Booboo. Her doctor called him a comfort item- so Uncle Nate was nice about bringing him everywhere now. She grabbed her final piece of attire, a large, oversized knitted sweater. She slid it over her dress, hurrying out of her room to find Nora and Nate to share breakfast.

As she ran through the hallway, the bathroom door was wide opened, allowing the girl to see her caregivers in front of the bathroom sink, simply discussing things and preparing for the day. She slowed, wondering if they would join her in breakfast. Sometimes during the busier days, she would have breakfast first and then run out to the bus- it wasn’t uncommon, but weekends were their day to spend with each other.

Nate was fidgeting over his appearance, trying to part his hair correctly- do everything correctly. He was so worried of that night, she felt the anxiety radiating off of him. Aunt Nora attempted to soothe his nerves, and Eva knew the two weren’t ready to eat yet. She roamed from the living room to the kitchen, she slid into the kitchen chair as Codsworth poured the milk and cereal for her.

Codsworth was her best friend, other the Louis, Rosa’s son. It was mostly her, Codsworth and Shaun in the house, she got very close with the robotic butler. Nora had begun her lawyering career after Nate had been drafted, and now that Shaun was born was starting again.

Uncle Nate was at home a lot, he was still job hunting, yet he was a decorated war hero- the government checks came and helped out the bills as Nora was finding cases. The house dynamic had found a comfortable balance.

“Miss Evangeline, after breakfast, I would recommend enjoying the nice weather! A crisp day it is.” Codsworth then left from the table, beginning on the coffee and to make a more home-style breakfast for the adults, as Nate utterly hated Sugar Bombs.

Evangeline loved them- it was her favorite breakfast! After shoveling the contents of the bowl in her mouth, she crawled off from the chair and glanced out the den’s window pane- perfect Fall day, maybe before going out to the Veterans Hall she could run off with Louis for a few hours. She would sneak on her Mary Janes and rush out- she just had to be back before five

She had her own bedroom, Shaun had his own nursery, and her Aunt and Uncle had their own rooms. So sneaking out would be easy if she was nice and quiet like in the spy movies she loved so much. She loved having her own room here.

When Evangeline just wanted to be alone, she could isolate herself in her room. She liked to simply sit in her bed, reading graphic novels, maybe even sneak a crank radio into her room and listen to the Silver Shroud station for a little while- Aunt Nora thought it was too violent for her, but Uncle Nate saw no problem.

Uncle Nate was always fun, he let her read his comic books, and she even got to watch Television shows Aunt Nora didn’t think she should be watching at her age. Uncle Nate always treated her so much bigger than others did. He treated her like she could make her own choices, she really liked that. She placed her bowl into the sink, as Codsworth imminently trying to clean it, drying it inhumanly fast and putting it away.

She didn’t know why Aunt Nora didn’t want a Mister Handy sooner, she liked not having to clean the dishes anymore. She had more time to play! She hurried down the hallway, she needed to brush her teeth, wash her face, and fix her hair before she was allowed to go play outside by mister Codsworth.

It was fairly easy to slip past the adults, but Codsworth would watch her like a hawk, and if she tried to escape without finishing her morning rituals, he would find her.

Evangeline peaked into the bathroom doorway, the sight of Nora’s hand onto Nate’s shoulder caught her eyes.

“You’re going to knock them dead at the Veterans Hall tonight, Hon.”

“You think?” He exhaled, his hands onto the basin of the sink, staring at the mirror intensely, he kept trying to fix his hair- tracing his fingers over his roughly textured face. “My speech, it’s too dark, too bleak.”

Nora wrapped her arms around his chest, she continued to speak soft words of praise and encouragement, but Evangeline lost interest when she realized she couldn’t do what she wanted in the bathroom. Her Uncle has been so worried about his speech, but she didn’t understand why - it sounded like every other boring speech they made at school or events she had to wear itchy petticoats for.

So, now disappointed she couldn’t sneak out easily, she chose to go play with her cousin. It was hard to really play or talk to a baby less than a year, he was heavy for her to carry and he drooled a lot. He couldn’t talk and he still didn’t know how to walk. She wandered her way into the nursery, the room was still and calm. She knew just what the two would do today- a tea party!

He was fast asleep, wrapped snugly in the blanket Aunt Nora first brought him home in. She stood right against the treated wood of the bars, she reached a hand in and tickled his stomach just as she saw her caregivers do.

This awoke him, enlightening an angry rage most infants possess when being stirred awake before he wanted to be. She didn’t step back, she was used to him crying like that- she began to tickle and pet him, singing to him until she grew confident enough to pull down the bars just like she saw her Aunt and Uncle do, lifting the boy to her chest.

The baby had a soiled diaper, she felt it right as she picked him up. “Codsworth!” She exclaimed, placing the fussy baby back onto the crib mattress. He was kicking his legs in the swaddled blanket angrily at being put back down. Codsworth came hearing the baby so upset.

“Sounds like someone made a stinky!” He declares, using his grabber attachments to delicately undo his swaddle and change his soiled diaper. She watched as Codsworth seemed to know just how to soothe and care for the baby.

When the baby was finally changed and fed a morning bottle since he was still being so fussy, Codsworth gently placed the child back into the crib. The baby grumbles and groans, unhappy with his situation.

“Shaunny… Shaunny.” She said in that high pitch voice she hears the grownups use, tickling him as he seemed to become more grumpy than angry. He wanted to be held, and she was just the person to do it. She lifts the infant back against her chest, hefting him off towards her bedroom. That was one perk to having her Uncle and Aunt so busy- she could sneak a bit of playtime with Shaun!

Codsworth drifted towards the kitchen as he was done with his duties, he couldn't calm a baby who wanted to be held- he was a needy baby sometimes. He liked being held and comforted, Aunt Nora had to stop working on cases just to coddle the boy. But Shaun wasn’t picky on who held him, enjoying the soft bouncing of Evangeline attempting to carry him.

She luckily had kept the bedroom door opened from rushing out for breakfast. She had to use both hands to take the baby to her bedroom without suspicion.

She entered the room quietly, shutting the door with her foot as Aunt Nora didn’t like her holding the baby without adult supervision. She couldn't place the reason- why she was so good! She never ever dropped the baby.

She laid him into the floor, right beside her short table- the table legs were so tiny she could sit on her knees and be comfortable. She then grabbed her porcelain tea set Aunt Nora had bought her. Aunt Nora told her since she was eight now, a big girl, she could handle glass toys- she had to be really careful. She couldn’t even play tea party with her best friend Louis, because he was too rough- Aunt Nora claimed because he was a boy.

Shaun couldn’t be rough to her toys like Louis could, so she laid the little teacup and saucer atop his abdomen tightly wrapped up in the little blankety.

Eva happily positioned herself across from her baby cousin. “How is the tea?” She did a mockup British voice, similar to Codsworth. She sipped the pretend tea loudly, the wrapped up infant was enjoying the ceiling of her pink room. He was like a doll, that sometimes cried. No matter where she put him, he would stay- sometimes that was bad, like the time she left him in the baby doll crib she had and she forgot where she put him.

Shaun was naive to whatever game Evangeline was putting him through. His little fist was halfway into his mouth, the other reaching to the ceiling.

The tea party wasn’t as good as when Codsworth helped her, who would make her peanut butter jelly sandwiches cut up in ‘tea squares’ as he called them and made them real tea- she put half honey, half tea, with a teaspoon of sugar. It was their secret, Aunt Nora didn’t very much like her having real tea parties after she spilled some on her good dress.

Though, her little formal gathering was cut short by the door sliding open, displaying Nora on the other side, Eva almost went stiff being caught, upon the sight of his mother, the infant screamed in delight, wiggling to get close to her- with her single right hand firmly on her hip, she walked towards her son laid in the floor.

Aunt Nora came in, moved the cup and saucer onto the surface, lifting the boy from the carpet as he calms almost instantly. He loved being held, Nora couldn’t deny how she loved how easy she could soothe her son, how just holding him would make him feel so much better.

“Eva. He’s just a baby, he can’t do tea parties or play with you and your friends yet. Just give it a few years, and once he can walk, you can go nuts.” She smiled, she never seemed truly upset at her for wanting to play with Shaun- but she just thought he was too young for all the fun she has planned for them both, or how she described it to the child.

After a few moments of coddling the infant as she stood, Nora began towards the door, with the older child quickly following her. She made the right towards the nursery and walked to the rocking chair, lowering herself onto it.

Aunt Nora rocking the boy slowly as he coos and speaks his own little gibberish language. She watched her cousin, yawning and almost falling back to sleep, even if he just woke up before she heard the front door opening and someone speaking, it was so muffled she could hardly hear it. She got excited, hoping Louis had come to ask her to play.

She ran past Codsworth and stood beside Uncle Nate, ready to run past him to go out with Louis. Though, as she hurried down the hallway and to the front door she found a man standing there with a fedora and beige trench coat.

She stood beside Uncle Nate’s leg, taking a fistful of his sweatpants, earning a pat on the head from her relative as he spoke to the man on their porch. The man before her did a big show to welcome her, “What a beautiful daughter you have! All the more reason for you to sign up for Vault-Tec!”

The man was loud and Uncle Nate had that look of irritation he always seemed to have when dealing with door-to-door representatives; sometimes they would come to the doors of the better suburban community. She wanted to watch the interaction, as she had nothing else really going on.

“But there’s room for my entire family right?” He gestures towards the girl against his leg, as the Vault-Tec Rep smiled down at the child before him.

“Of course! Of course! Minus your robot, of course, everyone is included.” He had a sheepish grin, she frowned looking up at her uncle, taking his larger palm with both hands and gently tugging to get his attention.

“We can't leave Mister Codsworth.” She tried to tell him, but Uncle Nate simply waved her off, removing his hand from her grip and patting her head. He had a light smile staring down at her.

“How about you go get ready, Sweet Pea.” His voice was gentle but dismissive. She knew she would get nowhere with him like this. So she grumbled but walked off to get prepared for the day.

“Now we just need your family’s individual S.P.E.C.I.A.Ls.”

She grabbed the little yellow stool from under the sink, climbing up beginning to wash her face. She soaked a wash rag with some hand soap and begun to scrub her face. After her face was covered in warm water and suds, she lowered her face to splash over her expression.

She was humming Caption Cosmos theme as she squeezed some dentifrice on her toothbrush and begun to brush her teeth. After rinsing and spitting out the paste, she then lifted her head, going to grab the hair comb to detangle before she heard the slam of the door.

The heavy steps down the hallway were the only answer she needed for an unasked question- Uncle Nate was done talking to the weird man at the door. She was quick to forget finishing her hygienic morning customs to take a look outside of the bathroom, seeing Uncle Nate stroll within the nursery. With a grin, she entered the nursery behind him.

“Shaun is up early.” The man leans his head towards Nora, who left a soft kiss on his jawline before she returned her eyes to the now calmed baby, who was lying against her chest. Nora cocked an eyebrow with that playful smirk she had when Evangeline tried to say Codsworth did something she did.

“Well, someone thought seven in the morning was the best time for a tea party.” Nora gave a smile towards Evangeline, gesturing by nodding towards her. Nate glanced over, shook his head slightly and allowed a chuckle to slip from his lips.

“Of course.” He would only laugh at her waking the baby up so early, he would always be so calm towards her about how she treated Shaun. Even when Aunt Nora would be so upset. Like the time when he was still so little she put him in her baby stroller and tried to take him to school- or when she tried to get him to sleep with her in her bed. So many countless times she was told she wasn’t treating him correctly.

Uncle Nate stepped away from Aunt Nora to allow her to stand. She rose from the cushioned rocker with a quiet sigh, she moved her hips side to side to stretch a bit, before walking back to the nursery’s crib. She gently laid the now calmed baby back upon the mattress, grabbing the side of the crib’s bars and pulled upward locking them in place.

She gave a dreamy sigh, Aunt Nora would say how much she had waited for the picket fence and family life she had now; she would have a dreamy look about her when she was caring for the children or spending time with her husband- she really did love her situation.

“Listen, after breakfast, I was thinking of going to the park. Weather should hold up,” Nora suggests, turning to Nate. She placed her hands on the crib’s side, though, she knew she would definitely go to the park- just shooting out the suggestion near Evangeline would get her wild.

“I wanna go! Can Louis come?” Evangeline butted in, as Nora knew she would, she patted the jet black hair of the child, staring up at the husband with the grin she always had when she knew she won. Unlike Nora, Nate loved to stay at home, watch Baseball and relax on his weekends, but she loved to spend those weekends outside, actually playing Baseball or enjoying the park.

He might say no to Nora, but he was wrapped around Evangeline’s finger. It was a two-edged sword, but she had learned long ago how to use it to her liking. He didn’t seem upset by any means, he might not like going, but he knew he would get a big burger and fries before the day was over if they all headed out.

“Sure, sounds like a fun time- I’ll call Rosa after breakfast.” He waved his left hand in a offhandly manner, Evangeline got so excited she nearly screamed- but knew better than to do that in the same room with Shaun after last time. She had grabbed Uncle Nate’s hand, going to pull him to the kitchen so he could hurry and eat.

“Sir, Ma’am, I think you should see this!” Just as she was ready to tell Uncle Nate he needed to eat breakfast now- she was stopped as they all heard Codsworth shouting from the living room.

“Codsworth? What’s wrong?” Aunt Nora spoke, her words full of concern. Uncle Nate was the first to step out to the living room. She didn’t understand what was happening, so when Uncle Nate began to shout for Nora to come here now- she froze, staring at Aunt Nora who grabbed Shaun without the gentleness and dreamy look she usually had and begun out the door.

Aunt Nora ran down the hallway, making the girl shadow her by gripping her hand. It was too tight; she tried to take the vine like grip away from her wrist: But Aunt Nora refused to let her go, forcing her to follow her into the living room. The television was telling them something with flashes, attacks, she didn't understand most of the words used. The grip loosened in all of Aunt Nora’s shock as she held Shaun tighter with both hands.

“Oh my god..” Aunt Nora was looking at Uncle Nate, quiet, their faces distorted in panic. The man on the screen covered his face with his hands, the emotions, the feel of the room had changed so quickly Evangeline didn’t know how to feel. Codsworth then grabbed the child’s blue boots.

“I would suggest putting on some shoes, young Ma’am.” The robotic nanny laid the pair before her, as he went towards the adults, drifting among them- waiting to hear what to do- should he pack? Should he take the children towards the vault? He was programmed to do what they told him to do.

She was slow to obey, starting to slide her foot into her dirtied blue boots. They were coated in dried mud at the bottom and time-worn from the time she has spent with them, roughhousing her favorite pair of shoes.

After she had them on, it was barely a moment later did the sirens activate.

The alarm rang, brash and loud. They were louder than the automated drill, and she could already hear the screaming of neighbors outside. She instinctively covered her ears. She was accustomed to drills, she practiced at school and with her family all the time, they were calm, professional, and felt so safe.

But the moment the horn went off, it seems at that moment everything went into chaos. The windows displayed so many people running towards the forest, the door swung open as Nora ran out with Shaun, she became frozen in place, mind going blank- that was just what Evangeline did in panic, she froze up.

Uncle Nate was the one who suddenly snatched her, hiking her up on his chest as he sped through the neighborhood. Evangeline almost dropped her doll in utter shock, gripping against him as he raced past the people and houses. She looked past his shoulder, she saw all her neighbors so afraid, hugging each other, some crying.

Her eyes search for Louis, would he go to the vault too? The road towards the forest was bumpy. She could only see a blur of her neighbors she had grown up with and the shouting of others. When Uncle Nate stopped, she felt she would fall over even in his arms by the force of his feet stopping.

Uncle was the one to demand access in the vault, shouting that they were on the list. The soldier glanced over the checklist. Evangeline saw her neighbors, everyone looked so scared, so heartbroken. She saw Rosa, eyes lightening up as she now thought her and her son would go within the vault with her.

But there Louis stood with Rosa, sobbing into the skirt of his mother, as she rubs her hands nervously. She tried to reach out, but the two acted as if they couldn’t see her.

“Infant, Child, Adult Female… Go on in.” He stepped aside, the two adults run past the gate. She pressed her forehead into the nape of his neck, there were so much shouting and disorder, she knew those sirens meant something was wrong, very wrong. They stood on the center of the circle, the ground was beginning to lower.

“Is Shaun okay?” Nate raced to his wife, holding the girl to his chest so tight her back hurt, as he looks over the baby.

“He’s fine, we’re going to be fine, we’re safe,” Nora spoke breathless, looking over the land of all of the helpless people. The baby’s eyes were caught by him, looking up at his father as Nate sighs quietly. “Oh thank god..”

As soon as those words left his lips, the ground began to shake as a bright, fiery hot heat filled the air. Looking back, the two were met with the blast, with a mushroom cloud beginning to form high in the sky. It was definitely bigger than Evangeline’s thumb. Uncle Nate grabbed her head, turning from the blast just as Nora had to Shaun.

The platform slowly begun to go deeper into the ground, the force of the atomic bomb finally hit them, resulting in some of the new Vault Dwellers and people to fall, the rumbling making even Uncle Nate almost fall. She gripped against the white shirt she was pressed to, and all she could think of was how Codsworth was all alone.

The lid of the elevator finally shut, making everything black. All she could hear was her breathing and the heavy pants of those around her. It was so dark, she hated the dark. “Eva, you okay?” Uncle Nate had finally addressed her, she had been so quiet the whole time, he worried she was going into a panic attack she would get sometimes.

“People.. People were still out there..” She barely spoke above a whisper.

“Don’t think about it.” Uncle shushed her, tangling his hand in her messy black bob, as Aunt Nora grabbed for Nate’s arm.

“Oh god, just a minute later..”

She simply hugged him tighter, Nate stood up slowly, realizing they were safe from the nuclear blasts from outside. The platform continued down at a much faster pace, those around them were panting, afraid and trying to stay calm.

“We did it, we made it… We’re okay…” Nora kept breathlessly speaking, cradling the child in her arms as she looks back to Nate and Nora. “We’re all safe…” They then stood close to one another, Nate allowed Evangeline to stand on her own, holding her hand now as the platform reached the ground.

The cage portion of the wall begun to lift itself with a loud whirring, showcasing a Vault-Tec guard and another man in a simple blue suit. Eva felt another wave of dread as she looked at the tall man with the beard, he held a clipboard and spoke like he was reading off a script.

“Everyone! Please step off the elevator, and proceed up the stairs in an orderly fashion.” He spoke loudly, as the guard walked towards the crowd, escorting them off the platform and towards the steps. Their neighbors were still trembling, in shock as they were guided forward. The guard wouldn’t speak, he did not answer a single question, nor did he even make eye contact.

“We’ll get everyone situated in your new home! Vault 111. A better future…” His lingering voice softened and fades as they walk up the metal stairs, towards the yellow gate opening. She didn’t like this, she wanted to go home.

Eva held onto her Uncle’s warm hand as the two were hustled up the stairs, the first thing she noticed was how cold this Vault was. Her bare legs felt freezing, as she huddled to the warmth of her Uncle.

‘Vault-Tec Is Here For You…’ The robotic voice droned on from some sort of speaker, repeatedly as they continue on the stairs. Aunt Nora was behind some of the other neighbors as for how they were shoveled in the steps, making Eva not able to see her. Uncle Nate held onto her hand tighter, continuing further.

A man near the yellow bars walkthrough checked off a clipboard as the new Vault Dwellers marched forward. He mumbles, smacking his lips jadedly.

“Adult Male, Child... Infant, Adult Female..” He mumbles under his breath, Eva was staring over the place. It was full of metal walls, painted blue and the Vault-Tec workers seemed so nice and calm, despite all of the chaos and fear in the room. The Vault-Tec logo was proudly embedded on different things in the vault, everything was fresh and clean- just like in the Television ads for the vaults.

Nate was handed a Vault Suit before the woman employee smiled at the young girl, who looked away at the eye contact. Uncle Nate squeezed her hand for comfort, so she leaned more against him, holding her doll tight.

“We also have Vault Suits for children, completely unisex, fashionable and comfortable.” She handed the much smaller version of the suit to her. But Uncle Nate took it, walking down the hallway with the doctor as instructed by the woman.

“Alright, you four, follow me.” The doctor smiled so widely, looking over the little family as he guided them down the hallway. The scientist was nice too, he explained everything calmly as Nora asked so many questions.

The next room was nothing but rows of just.. Metal shells. There was a man in this room also, who checked them off the list. Why were they checked off so many lists? Evangeline looked to Uncle Nate, wanting him to explain what this room was- yet, he appeared just as puzzled as her to this. The doctor simply smiled at the family’s utter confusion.

“Just step in here and put your vault suit on, into the chamber whenever you are ready.” He gestures towards the many cushioned metal husks that littered this room, Eva glanced over them all, Nate handed Evangeline her outfit, making her feel more insecure for having to change here before going in. Before she could voice her concerns, Shaun must had some complaints as well, as he began to sob loudly.

“Awe, who is my little guy? Daddy is not going far.” Nate stepped closer, reaching his hands out as Shaun’s tiny fists reach out for him, crying harder.

“There he is, see?” Nora laughs faintly, handing the baby over to Nate and then looking to Eva, who looked like a deer in the headlights. Nate swayed the baby gently side to side, babbling to the infant until he calmed down.

Nora kneels in front of her niece, “Let’s get into your suit so we can start our new life, alright?” She helped the younger get dressed in the suit, putting all of her clothes in the bag as the rest were, but Eva, who kept her sweater. The scientist relented to her weak stare, Nora kissed her head. “I’m not going far either, I’ll be right beside you. Look, Uncle Nate is gonna be able to see you the whole time.” Her hands gestures towards the pod right in front of the one she was being placed in. Evangeline frowned, staring towards Uncle Nate who was still enjoying the laughing baby.

The decompressing pods reserved for them would allow Nate and Nora to look straight at each other, as Uncle Nate could see her from his. She wished she could see Aunt Nora, she wanted to voice her fear, her wanting to see Codsworth- but Aunt Nora kept a firm hand on her back, guiding her to the pod.

The doctors were pushy, nearly shoving them inside the little spaces, but Uncle Nate was ignoring them. Walking past one of the doctors and towards Nora and Evangeline.

Uncle Nate came forward, she looked up at him with the expression of fear and dread, but he leans down, planting a soft kiss to her forehead. She extends her hand towards the bundled baby, allowing him to hold her finger for only a moment before a scientist began to move Nate towards the pod.

Eva was ushered into the pod by another scientist, she sat down on the cushioned seat as the scientist sealed the door. She got nervous, it felt wrong. Uncle Nate’s eyes were connected to Nora’s, a little wave as the two put their hands on the glass as a way to connect as some sort of fog took over their pods.

The scientist came to her chamber, keeping such a kind smile adults had when they thought children were pitiful.

“The pod will decontaminate and depressurise you before we head deeper into the Vault. You’re going to start a new life, cheer up.” And with that, the man in the white coat briskly walked away before she could say anything. Her fingernails dig into the fabric of her doll. She didn’t understand a thing he just said, but it sounded painful.

She didn’t like this- she leaned back, feeling her eyes filling with tears- she hoped Uncle Nate would pluck her up right then and hold her.

‘Resident: Secured.’

She heard the door tighten, air locking as she began to heave, she was trapped and alone- she suddenly felt the walls of the metal ball closing in on her. The robotic voice was nulling, becoming noise in her ears. Cold, snow like air filled her pod, making her gasp. The sudden volume of freezing air filled the small space, making her tremble as she could feel her doll become rigid from ice underneath her palms.

Eva tried to scream, yet everything lulled into darkness before she could do much.

When she first stirred, she could hardly move her head- everything felt stiff, her breath came out hot and heavy as lead. She couldn’t grasp what was happening first.

Gaining consciousness, she found herself feeling cold and her muscles rigid, she gasps as her lungs fill with icy breath- everything felt wrong. She could barely see from the frosted window of the pod- how was this decompressering?

“This. This is the one.” The voice rang, almost making every part of her body become awake as she had the realization it had to be the vault scientists- it was time to get out.

She leaned closer, finding two figures in front of the pods. She hit her fist again the window, her breath shaky, puffs of air leaving her lips- she was shaking to her core- she wanted out.

The figures were blurry, she rubs her eyes trying to focus. She heard soft murmurs before some new figure came forward- this one looked almost like a monster- tight in a suit of what looked like rubber skin, pointed forward to the pod of her uncle. She begun to hit harder against the window, screaming, she was cold and scared.

The rubber monster was standing before her Uncle’s chamber, as another figure, darkened and nearly out of her view standing on the sidelines as the monster had come forward.

The pod unsealed, lifting the door as Uncle Nate leaned forward, coughing as the cold air filled his lungs as Shaun screams, weeping loudly as the sudden contrast he awoke to. The rubber monster reached for the baby, she was saying something, but Nate kept shaking his head.

Uncle Nate’s eyes caught his niece, banging on the window and crying. He stood, his legs shaky as the man she could hardly see held something towards him- she began to kick and smack against the door. He was still hacking, holding Shaun with one arm. The creature grabbed ahold of Uncle Nate’s arm, seeing as he was struggling to move, guiding him from the room. He points towards the two pods where the rest of his family was contained.

The man holding the gun looked over the two pods, eyes widening when he saw the crying child inside. Would he let her out? He turned sideways, shouting to the thing- but she couldn't hear. Why wouldn’t she hear?

She tried to stand, but everything fell back into darkness before she could even scream. Eva was trapped again her mind, in the dreams that seem to never end with questions on her mind. She just wanted her family.

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