Get me out of here. By bosin lasin

This is a summary of the story elements:

Title: Get me out of here.
By bosin lasin
Protagonist: Courier Six
Location: Monster girl encyclopedia world
Story So Far: Behold, Courier Six! The genius of Big Mountain research facility!" Doctor Borous yelled at the top of his lungs, his green brain jar shaking from the excitement as he gestured at the object standing behind him.

It looked like some kind of portal in a shape of a ring from those cheesy 50's cartoons. Wires of all kinds and sizes connected to it, as the scientists, former humans, now brains in floating jars, stood behind a massive wall made from reinforced glass. The portal itself was surrounded by a trademark blue forcefield. The site itself was located in some kind of underground facility, shaped like a dome, located in the Big Mountain facility.

"It looks like something taken straight from those old Science Fiction movies," Courier Six deadpanned. The man in question was fully dressed in a suit of Pre-War Elite Riot Gear armour, further improved with technologies from the Big Mountain.

The armour itself was upgraded with a newer version of saturnite alloy. It was known for its durability, sharpness, and ability to retain heat for long periods of time. Good heat retention was a boon in certain circumstances, such as blades and other weapons acting on the same principle. However, infusing it with human bones or tissue would lead to the user cooking himself from the inside out and the space shuttle turning into a giant oven upon the entrance into the atmosphere.

That's why a new version of it had to be developed, specifically designed to be used with a human body. Following a year of research, the alloy was adapted to be more usable as armour and promptly named Saturnite 2.0. It was just as resilient as its predecessor, but this time it was even capable of surviving the cloud, without decaying anymore or letting it inside the armour and with the bonus of being hard to heat up.

„HOW DARE YOU BRING MOBIUS' OBSESSION HERE, LOBOTOMITE?!" Klein yelled at the top of his lungs.

„Doctor Klein, I do not believe that the lobotomite thought about Doctor Mobius when he spoke those words," Dala interjected.

„Thank you, Dala," He said, the brain looking away shyly. „Now, Klein, answer me, what the hell is that thing and what does it do?"

„It's a teleporter, well, more a dimensional portal, but the principle is quite similar," Doctor Zero replied, the Courier raising an eyebrow from behind his helmet.

"YES, THE PORTAL, ONE OF OUR MOST IMPRESSIVE DEVELOPMENTS IN RECENT YEARS," Klein confirmed, the Courier already getting a headache from hearing his voice.

"Quite the tech, if you ask me, what's it got to do with me?" The portal to other worlds was impressive, he'd admit that, but his approval for their new toy wasn't the reason why they had called him, unless this was one of their stupid tests.

"Well, my little teddy bear, we were hoping that you would test it out and see if it works," Doctor Dala explained, paying close attention to her favourite lobotomite's movements.

"Was that a failed attempt for a joke or did you run out of excuses to try and vivisect me? Why not have some kind of robot test it instead?" He argued, crossing his arms in response.

"Actually, we already prepared a robot for just that task," Borous said.

"You did? Seriously?" Courier asked.

"!$*! $(! $," Eight said in a broken voice modulator.

"Really? A robot with wheels and a camera? Well, where is it?" Courier asked. Then, one of the force fields shut down, allowing a simple robot with tracks and an arm with a camera mounted on it to enter the area in front of the portal. "Good job, Zero, Eight, everyone, for once, you exhibited some actual sanity!"

"WHAT? WHY ARE WE NOT USING THE LOBOTOMITE TO TEST IT?!" Klein yelled.

"Because, Doctor Klein, unless you want to be vivisected right here and now by the very lobotomite you, it would be best to avoid making enemies," Dala explained.

"We can't have you being against us, now can we, Lobotomite?" Borous pointed.

"Good to know, I am worth more than an average Lobotomite in here," He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "So, what do you expect me to do?"

"Well, since we could be opening portals to aliens that will try to insert probes into our orifices, we thought it would be a good idea to have someone, well, kill them, if they decide to come," Zero explained.

"… What if it opens in the middle of a bloody sun? Do you have any backup plan?" He pointed out.

"DO NOT BE AFRAID, LOBOTOMITE, OUR SIMULATIONS SHOWED THAT THERE IS A VERY MINOR CHANCE THE PORTAL WILL NOT OPEN IN THE MIDDLE OF SPACE, WHICH WE PREPARED FOR," Klein yelled again.

"… Great, just bloody great, aren't we going to depressurize immediately?" He said.

"We have already pumped out the precious oxygen you need to survive from the room, My Little Teddy Bear," Dala explained.

"Well, there is only one thing left then," Courier began. "Do you know what?"

"!$(! ($! (%," Eight tried.

"No, Eight, I am not talking about sterilization of equipment," He replied. "I am talking about MY OWN PERMISSION."

"Oh, that thing, we forgot to include it in our simulations, since we assumed you would agree in the name of science!" Borous said.

"Do you want me to replace your tanks with vinegar, Borous?" Courier growled, the scientists floating away from him.

"You wouldn't do that, now would you, My Little Teddy Bear?" Dala asked.

"… I hope not, Dala," He replied and sighed, before shaking his head. "Anyway, fine, I agree, but if something goes wrong, I'm holding you all accountable and banning you from research for a year."

"Yes, that's what we were hoping for," Borous said. "Now then, let us begin, everyone."

With a shake of his head and a small smile on his lips, they went to their posts. Ever since he had dealt with Think Tank, he began clearing out the Big Mountain, fixing the broken facilities, uncovering new technologies and improving the ones already existing. While he was harsh towards them, it was not without basis. If Doctor Mobius hadn't trapped them in Big Mountain using a reclusive loop to trap their programming all those years ago, the Think Tank would have wreaked havoc upon the world. Still, once they were on his side, their expertise proved to be invaluable in helping the world recover.

They had improved the holograms from the Sierra Madre, making them more aware of their surroundings, deadlier than before, with a bigger range and reinforced saturnite casing that protected the fragile electronics located inside. Furthermore, they improved his pipboy, copying the schematics of all kinds of weapons and armour, even those from before the War as well as those manufactured by Gun Runners. He could easily produce almost anything, including chems and drugs, as well as even the holograms themselves.

There were also the implants, like Kinetic Accelerators, Nanobionic Weave, Bionic Eyes, Nemean subdermal armour and many more. They also managed to replicate ED-E, with all the appropriate upgrades he acquired back at the Divide. Unfortunately, some of the discoveries and technologies came at a price. An unpleasant memory began to surface, but he forced it down and focused on the task at hand.

"Here goes nothing," Courier muttered, while the brains took their position and activated the machine.

At first nothing happened, the Courier raising his eyebrow in response. Then, a spark appeared in the middle of the portal, before a black whirlwind, akin to that of a blackhole appeared inside of it. In that moment, the robot came to life, as it slowly pushed it's arm through, the view from it appearing on several monitors located in the room.

Their eyes spread wide in shock as they found themselves above a planet, probably somewhere in the Thermosphere, hundreds of kilometres above the surface of it. However, this by itself wasn't that important, the planet… was lush with vegetation. They could see oceans, massive forests strewn all over it. They could also see some areas that looked like they were covered in the very darkness itself.

"A planet that can support life…?" Borous muttered.

"I will be damned… It actually works. Hang on, why the hell didn't you use it to open a portal to planets we know of, instead of opening portals to alternate dimensions?!" He exclaimed.

"That's…. a good question," Zero muttered, while Courier groaned and facepalmed in response.

"Alright, we know enough, shut it down," He ordered.

"Alright on it," Zero said and interacted with the console. "There."

"Umm… Zero, why is it still open?" Courier asked, the portal still there.

"I just cut off the power, why isn't it shutting down?" Zero replied.

"I think we might have a problem," Doctor Borous said.

In that moment, the portal cracked ominously, the atmosphere growing tense in an instant. Courier snapped towards the scientist, his eyes narrowed. "Zero, explain!"

"I am working on it!" He replied, the portal crackling even more. "It's still drawing power… the fuses didn't work!"

At that moment, the portal cracked even more, a powerful suction forming out of it, the robot that was located in front of getting sucked in the process. The force fields were still holding stable, but he doubted they would do that forever. The suction was getting more and more powerful, the barriers slowly draining power from their capacitors.

"ZERO!" He yelled.

"I got it!" Zero yelled back. "You have to go inside and manually remove the power cords!"

"There is no oxygen in there, you genius!" He pointed out.

"We will shut down the forcefields, this should be enough to keep you breathing, your armour and holding breath should also help," Borous pointed out.

"Alright, do it and get the hell out of here!" He ordered, the fields shutting down. He rushed towards the portal, making sure not to be sucked in the accident, grabbed the power cords and tore them off in an instant. "There!"

"Great, now, get back here!" Zero yelled.

He did as told, but the portal became even more unstable in the process, the suction became even more intense. He grabbed onto the metal floor, as he held for his dear life, the brains long gone from the dome. He gritted his teeth, as the metal bent under the pressure, his hands grasping it, while his legs were turned towards the portal. He began crawling towards the exit, grab by grab. He made five grabs towards it, when suddenly, the floor got loose. His eyes spread wide, as the metal panel he held was ripped from the floor sending him towards the portal.

As his eyes looked towards it, he could only mutter one thing, "Fuck…"

And then… the Courier was gone, the portal shutting down in the process.


Chapter 2

First thing he noticed was that he was falling, the other one? The lack of oxygen. For once he was grateful that his helmet had sealed off the filtration system and didn't release all the oxygen into the stratosphere immediately. However, that was soon overshadowed as he began falling, getting faster and faster, his own mass and lack of air resistance making him break the sound barrier, his armour heating up from the orbital entry.

One thing was certain, hitting the ground would result in catastrophic damage – for both the armour and himself. He was tough, one of the toughest and deadliest men in Mojave Wasteland, but that didn't make him invulnerable. And the impact of this size could kill almost everyone he knew. He had only one chance of survival. First thing he did was de-atomized the pipboy, which looked as if the device assembled itself from atoms in an instant.

Atomization was a process that allowed him to store tons of stuff inside the pipboy, which had enough capacity to supply a small army and then some. He wasn't sure how it worked exactly, but it made things appear and disappear in the thin air, as if their atoms were split apart and added to his mass. It was very handy and allowed him to adjust to any situation assuming he had the stuff prepared. There was a limit of what he had prepared, most of which were weapons. Ammo, drugs, food and water could always be looked up in the pipboy before the fight or during it, even if it was a bit inefficient, quick access to guns was better as far as he was concerned.

Using his pipboy, he atomized his current attire and simultaneously de-atomized Remnants Power Armour, made from Saturnite 2.0. The armour itself was black with an insect-like design of the helmet, black paint and a reactor located in the back, standing eight feet tall. He could see a corona of flames forming around the armour as his speed increased, the Courier entering the atmosphere. The surface of the armour was slowly gaining a red hue as the air friction caused an immense strain on the surface. He was grateful that pipboys were built to last under all circumstances and didn't melt down in the air immediately.

Even now, he could feel the heat that was coming off from his armour, which was also slowly increasing, the fan at the back trying it's best to cool down the armour. It was going to turn him an extra crispy slice of human meat at this rate. He pitied any monster that would try to eat him, they would probably get a stomach ache and puke all day from all the radiation in his body. Oh right, he had Rad Child, Solar Powered and such.

Rad child potent, effective, highly volatile, extremely dangerous, in the middle of a firefight? Life saving. It gave him the incredible vitality only a super mutant would possess at the expense of almost becoming one himself. Derived from a super mutant, this ability would only work in an environment similar to a super mutant's body, highly irradiated, extremely toxic, VERY LETHAL. Well that was what he thought how it worked anyway, especially considering how much lead those meat bags ate. Despite its potency it couldn't fix broken limbs, and he wouldn't risk dipping in radiation with a bad leg. Luckily for him he had the Phoenix Monocyte Breeder implant for that, although having to require power, it certainly sounded better than getting green washed by a barrel of toxic sludge.

Being a toxic sponge was bad but dying was worse. The only reason he hadn't died from radiation poisoning so far was due to some of the perks he possessed, which mitigated the drawbacks and prevented him from biting the radioactive dust. Not to mention all the protein, vitamins and minerals it still needed. Accelerated cell healing was good and all but, they can't just generate vitamins and minerals out of thin air. So each time he got hurt, his body would draw upon the stored fats in his body, which he had to recuperate by eating more. Thankfully, the amount of food and water he needed to recover his body from near death was not enough to get him emaciated. Not as compact as a stimpack, but definitely better than nothing.

As he mused upon that, he noticed that the surface was getting dangerously close and even with his body spread out to slow down the descent, he was still being cooked from the inside, a smell of burnt flesh entering his nostrils. He could tell that he was hurting badly, not surprising, but not pleasant either, which meant it was time to use some drugs!

Drugs, addictive, dangerous, very efficient. He really didn't like using them, especially if he had to waste precious Fixers to get rid of addiction. However, considering he was going to hit the surface of the planet and was in the middle of being cooked alive, it was a case where he was quite certain deserved a damn good dose of Battle Brew, combined with an Atomic Cocktail and Fire Ant Nectar. The three combined would give him resistance to all damage and complete immunity to fire damage, making the flames feel more like warm candles. The three were injected into his bloodstream via the pipboy, without needing to be de-atomized, as he felt the rush of the drugs.

There was always a chance he could get addicted to a drug or an alcohol. Some things were more or less addictive, but the risk was still there. One of the most potent and useful ones was steady, which gave him a perfect aim for thirty hours. However, he was somehow resistant to addiction thanks to all the things he went through. Even the mighty Steady with it's 80% addiction rate was reduced to mere 27%. He rolled the dice and...success. His body was able to resist the addiction, this time once more.

Well, at least there was that, even though he was still falling to his death! He looked around as he tried to figure out where he would be landing and could only groan in response. He was heading straight into some kind forest and… there was no water around him. Great… He directed his legs down towards the ground, as he prepared for what had to be one of the worst experiences in his life. Then he hit the ground, with a loud boom, which echoed across the area.

The pain… was agonizing. He couldn't move his muscles, he felt like his body was on the verge of simply falling apart. He let go, as he laid on his back, the simple action making him grit in teeth in response. Yeah… that was the worst pain he had ever experienced. He couldn't move, not while his body was healing thanks to Rad Child and Solar Powered, the muscles mending themselves together, even as he coughed blood inside of his own helmet. A good minute later, he was finally able to move his body a bit, standing shakily on his own feet, the pain gone for the most part. He brought his pipboy up and checked his status. His health was fine, but his limbs had seen better days. The impact was enough to cripple both of his legs, which only began healing thanks to Monocyte Breeder impact.

Alright, that could be fixed with a bit of time or with a dose of Healing Poultice, Hydra or Doctor's Bag, he had plenty of those. But before that, he had to figure out if the atmosphere of this world was toxic as hell, even if the lush flora around him denied that notion, the Sun shining through the canopy. Good thing pipboy could analyse all kinds of things like air, weapons, armour, consumables, ammo, even miscellaneous.

As he checked the results he found himself surprised. The atmosphere was pretty much the same as the one back on Earth. There were small differences, like less pollution in the air, but nothing out of ordinary. Of course there was a possibility of alien bacteria existing in the world, ones that could easily kill him. So, just in case, he decided to stay in the power armour. Truth to be told, he preferred his trusty Elite Riot Gear.

As much as he liked Power Armour, it wasn't nearly as good at taking advantage of the power of the critical hits, something he specialized in. Plus, he liked the look of it, fashion or not, even if it was weaker when it came to protecting him. A fair trade off, if you asked him, he still had drugs at the end of the day. For now, he was going to stick to the power armour, just in case. Now, where was he anyway? He de-atomized the pipboy and went straight to maps, only to see a message in the middle of the screen. "Error, no map detected, automap engaged."

"… Crap," The Courier muttered to himself.

Well, considering the fact that they were testing dimensional portals before his crash landing, it was either different dimension or Canada, whichever was worse. Now, how the hell was he supposed to get back home? He had no schematics for the portal, even if he had for other things, which meant he was stuck here until the brains decided to bring him back..

"Son of a bitch…," He cursed.

To say Think Tank's members were not the sanest bunch would be putting it mildly, they were borderline insane. Not only they had a shaky grasp of time, they were responsible for so many things in the Mojave and beyond it. Spore Carriers, Night Stalkers, Cazadors, just to name. They were the ones who created the Cloud for the Sierra Madre, who gave Elijah means to put bomb collars on others, just to name a few. So, the odds of them getting him back anytime soon or ever were slim to none, especially since he forbade them research for a year… He was stuck here, wasn't he? A defeated sigh escaped his lips. Well, might as well figure out what kind of technology the world had.

It couldn't be too advanced, or he would be seeing some kind of vehicle inspecting his crash site. He doubted governments of this would ignore his impact, unless they were in a pre-industrial era. Something to figure out for the future. At least the compass still seemed to be working. Now, he had to decide which direction to go and he had just a way to do it.

He snipped out a legion coin, made from silver and tossed it in the air. Heads, north, tails, south. It landed on it's heads. He did it again, this time to decide to head west or east. North-east it was then. He began walking as he took in all the sights on his way there. The Sun was shining, if he had to guess it was around three PM in the afternoon, judging by the rays of the sun that were shining through the canopy. The trees were lush, green, unlike the ones found in the Mojave. It was a bit similar to the Zion, bar the bloodthirsty tribals.

As he made his way through the forest, he felt at the edge, it was too quiet, too peaceful, his old instincts not able to shake off the feeling that it was wrong. It was too similar to Vault Twenty Two, that thing gave him enough mental trauma to last for life. The last thing he needed was spore carriers, giant spore plants or things which were overgrown with fungus. He hated those so much, never again.

He was walking and walking, when finally, after what felt like hours, he was able to reach some kind of dirt road. It seemed fairly used judging by the sheer number of tracks. He knelt as he inspected them, frowning in response. Those tracks… they were oddly human. In fact, they looked like they were made by boots. There were also those that looked like they were made by a horse and what seemed to be tracks made by a cart of some kind.

Normally, he would chalk it up as being impossible, but since alternate reality was a thing according to the brains, it seemed like he found himself in a world, where humanity hadn't reached industrial age just yet. Well… that sucked. He would not be getting any bullets here without crafting them himself would he? Also, all the caps he had on him would not be a valid currency, which meant, he was broke, again… Great...

He groaned as he considered his options. He doubted guns were a thing or at the very least, they were very primitive, muskets, maybe flintlocks at best. Nothing that could graze a combat armour, much less power armour. However, that meant he had to somehow blend in. His current attire was less than optimal for that. He either had to create an armour from scratch that would keep him safe from the environment, bacteria and such or he could customize one of his armours to make them look more in line with the current technology. He would have to see a village to get a rough idea to do that anyway.

He looked at the road, tossed a legion coin, caught it and then headed east, judging by the compass. A part of him was excited, a new world to explore, fresh with possibilities. The Mojave was nice and all, especially nowadays, but he explored the entirety of it back in a day and spent the majority of the past few years running the damn thing with the help of Yes-Man. Between Lucky 38, a mountain of paperwork and politics, he very much preferred dealing with bandits, hostile fauna and flora than the former one.

As he made his way down the road, the sun began to set, slowly getting darker and darker. The Courier frowned as he considered his options. He didn't mind camping out in the grasslands that surrounded him, heck, he was used to it anyway. The issue was, he had no clue what kind of horrible monstrosities were in this world. So, what he needed was a gun under his pillow or some traps or both. He was not sleeping without some kind of protection, the Mojave taught him that.

Still, he wondered, where should he rest? Underneath trees? In the field? Well, the ground didn't seem that bad, assuming, it didn't rain, but being wet was not pleasant in the slightest. In fact, the temperature of this world was different when compared to the Mojave. Not only was it colder all around, day and night included, the climate itself was different from the one he was used to. If he remembered correctly, it was reminiscent of the continental climate, different from the arid climate in the Mojave. Not unpleasant, but something he would have to get used to.

Now then, since this world probably didn't have lasers or plasma, he decided to avoid using holograms from the Sierra Madre casino. Mines were risky as well, but less so than the holograms. That left him with bear traps and a tripwire. First, he had to be able to see, which he did by activating the Bionic Eyes implant. It allowed him to see in a night vision, which he used to set up the bear traps and a few trip wires connected to tin cans, which would clang loudly when triggered.

It only took a moment, before he was done. He looked around, making sure nobody was watching him, before he-deatomized a sleeping bag. He then put it on the ground and climbed inside with his armour still equipped. It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, but he would take it over being ambushed naked, pipboy or not. As he laid there on the ground, he looked at the part of the sky shining through the canopy, not able to recognize any of the constellations. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

The Courier woke up with a blink, the Sun still down. Sleeping on a hard surface, compared to a bed was something he was used to, especially with his armour on and his weapons ready to be drawn, even though it wasn't the most pleasant experience. Checking his vitals, he was relieved to see that his dehydration level was still rather low, he needed to drink some water though, at least he had that. Although, he still needed to bath on a regular basis to prevent infections and diseases, not to mention, to not smell like a brahmin waste when talking to other people.

Now that he thought about it, the last time he had bathed was before he left the Earth's surface. He sniffed the inside of his armour and winced as the smell of sweat entered his nostrils. Heading away from his temporary campsite, he noticed it was still dark, the current time on his pipboy reading 3 AM. It meant that he had slept around three hours, as usual, the result of all the implants and tech in his body. He wasn't sure, how long did the night or day last in this world, but he really hoped it was similar to Earth's day and night cycle.

So, without wasting any more time, he lowered his posture and began sneaking towards the edge of the tree, a bowie knife called Blood-nap in his hand, ready to strike. However, it seemed this time lady luck was on his side, as nothing jumped at him ready to rip his head off. Now, the problem was the fact that he couldn't clean himself without endangering himself to infection and bacteria of this world. This meant that he would have to take off his armour sooner rather than later. It seemed like he had no other option. He really hoped his body would prevail once more.

With his mind made up, he took off his armour – standing only in a pair of pants and a ton of bandages that covered every inch of his body, leaving only his green eyes visible. It was something he learned from Joshua Graham, but instead of wounds that wouldn't heal, he had his own personal reasons for that.

To put simply, he hated his face being seen by other people, it was one of the reasons he hid behind bandages. He had a decent looking mug if you were to ask him but, it got all banged up with a plethora of scars he got from his unfriendly adventures through the wasteland. Scars, big or small, never came across as friendly, so he wasn't too keen on showing anyone what's under the mask. However, scars were quite common in the wasteland. With the talent he had for talking, it wouldn't have been a problem. But there was radiation mixed in, and that never made anyone look good.

The Courier, with a bit of hesitation, proceeded to remove the bandages, until he was wearing nothing more but a pair of pants, faded scars visible on every part of his body. One could see his pale complexion, being a proof of using armour on a regular basis to prevent sunburns, stray bullets, and lasers from hurting him. It used to be different, but one did not go through the same crap he went through, without having serious emotional baggage and making enough corpses to fill a small graveyard.

However, it was nothing compared to how he looked beneath all the bandages. His black hair, which used to reach to his neck, was nothing more but few patches of it remaining on his head. His skin was similar to a beef jerky, as the radiation wrecked havoc across his body, making him look similar to a ghoul. It was a price he had to pay, for allowing the Rad Child to do it's magic. He had wrinkles under his eyes, his green eyes, which used to be full of life, now mostly devoid of it, save for an eerie green glow, almost imperceptible if one wasn't specifically looking for it. A single massive scar running from the middle of his left eyebrow to the middle of his cheek. A walking corpse, that's what he looked like, not that different from all those pre-war movies he watched some time ago, with zombies and such.

Shaking his head, he took off the used bandages, before de-atomizing a pot and a box of abraxo cleaner. With that, he poured some water inside, added the cleaning powder and began washing them thoroughly – the water turning brown from the sheer amount of dirt and sweat inside them. Now, it was time to clean himself. With a bottle of purified water and some soap, he began cleaning himself, making sure to not use more than a bottle, water was a precious commodity in the scorching heat of the Mojave, one should not waste it bathing too often.

"Mr. Clean gets rid of dirt and grime and grease in just a minute!

Mr. Clean will clean your whole house and everything that's in it!," He sang quietly to himself.

Once he was done, he smelt himself and smiled. Hygiene was one of the most important parts of medicine after all. After that was taken care of, he put the, now clean, bandages back on, before making his way back to the campsite. He was about to get down to work once again, when he felt his stomach rumble, stopping him in his tracks. He hadn't eaten since yesterday now that he thought of it. Taking off his helmet and putting it upside down, to keep it from getting dirty, he materialized a coyote steak, from his Pipboy, which he bit into like an animal and devoured it with the grace of one. Once he was done with the steak, his belly now satisfied, he put the helmet back on and began taking the campsite apart, which only took a moment. He also got rid of all the traps just in case. With everything important taken care of, he began his trek across this new alien world, a part of him excited at the prospect. He was the Courier, after all.

As he walked down the road he found, he was thinking what kind of monsters could live in this world? Death Claws? Radscorpions? Cazadors? He hoped not, those things were bad enough back in his world, he didn't need more of them here. Then as he thought, that nothing would happen, he noticed something in the distance. It seemed humanoid in shape, before it turned towards him and began running, fast, real fast in fact.

Alarm bells rang in his head, as he de-atomized Old Glory, a flagpole given to him by Ulyssess and prepared for combat by the unknown assailant. As the figure got closer and closer, he was able to make out more and more details, making his eyes spread wide open. In front of him, half-human, half-ox woman just ran up to him, before skidding to a stop, just a couple dozen feet away from him. She was wielding a massive battle-axe and a bag. She also had a pair of horns, ox-like ears, a tail and a pair of hooves, where feet would be.

"You, human, mate with me!" She ordered in perfect English.

And with that, she threw away her weapon and charged at him, bestial lust in her eyes. The Courier's heart stopped as he activated VATS, the time stopping for both of them. It was a system the pipboy possessed, which allowed him to take a breather and figure out his next moves. He was still stuck in time just as others were, but that didn't matter. This… thing in front of him, she was trying to… rape him?

A certain avid memory, began to surface, only to be buried deep within his psyche, a viscous scowl on his face. Rape? Him? This thing would not live to see another day, no matter what. The time resumed, as the Courier rushed towards the monster, his eyes devoid of mercy. Then before the monster could get close, he swung in a circle, before smashing right into the monster, sending her flying with a yelp of pain.

She crashed into the ground, her eyes getting focused for a moment, as the man charged her, killing intent dozing off him, Terrifying Presence kicking in. Fear gripped her heart, the heat in her body replaced by survival instinct. As the man swung his sword towards her, she used her powerful hooves to jump away, before lowering her horns and charging towards him. The Courier rolled to the side, as the monster charged past him, before she grasped her weapon on her way and turned towards him.

"You… not human, monster," She declared, her grip on the weapon tightening.

"No, not a monster, human, a very angry human," He growled.

With that, he charged towards the monster, his weapon ready to dig into her flesh. The monster charged in response and swung her weapon down on top of his head. However, he was faster and did the same thing he did at the beginning, sending the monster flying. And as she was flying through the air, he swung at her body, delivering a critical hit. The monster's body exploded into bits, her severed head flying away from him, the weapon falling to the ground.

Once he did that, he holstered the weapon, took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself down. If there was one thing that made his blood boil was rape. It was an old scar, one that Usanagi tried to help him with and succeeded, well somewhat. He didn't immediately go into blood frenzy upon someone targetting him, but he had no tolerance for rape no matter how they painted it. Same thing with slavery. Both were crimes that had no concrete justification.

Rape? Ask a girl out, buy a prostitute, find another girl. Rape did not accomplish anything by itself. Torture could save the world by providing vital intel, killing bandits saved caravans and innocents, even Genocide could be justified if it meant survival of an entire race, like a bunch of aliens trying to destroy the world. Slavery was in the same category as rape. Instead of slavery, you could always use robots or make people work for you out of their own free will. Caesar's Legion learned that lesson painfully, he made sure of that.

Now, since he was done ranting, it was time to figure out what the hell was that thing in front of him. He walked up to the corpse and examined it, making him frown in the process. This… thing, it didn't seem mutated, not in the slightest. When compared to centaurs, super mutants and ghouls, it seemed more… deliberate. In fact, the human and ox parts were in a unison, reminding him of cazadors and nightstalkers. Only something like a bio engineering genius of the calibre of Think Tank could probably make such a fusion.

This put a lot of things into question, most importantly, the level of technology this world possessed. Unless… there was a small, a very small possibility that the thing in front of him was born this way or something. Evolution leading to such an odd combination destroyed Darwin's theory. Humans were related to monkeys, not cows and such. He had no clue what to think about it, as he inspected the corpse and the weapon. The monster didn't seem to possess anything of value, except for the weapon and the bra that could barely be called clothing. He shook his head as he found some thin red paste on the body of the monster, which he atomized. He looked at the weapon and atomized it as well. He could always use it to fix his other weapons. He also found... some books? And they were written in English as well? How? He had no clue. At least he had something to read right now.

Still, he had to figure out, why did the monster try to rape him, him out of all people? Was it because of his armour? Were there others like her? Would they also react to his armour? And how in the name of all that is SCIENCE was she able to speak perfect English? This made no sense, like at all. He decided to leave it be, at least for now. Well, at least he had a vague idea what to expect from this world. He was not looking forward to it...

Chapter 3

The Courier was walking down the road he found last time, his eyes scanning the environment for any potential threats. He didn't want to be ambushed by another of those monsters or whatever she was that attacked him. Still, he was curious and decided to take a brief stop. He looked around and found a tree nearby that would be a nice resting spot. He made his way to it and sat down, his back leaning on the trunk of it. He took out the first book and could immediately feel his eyebrow raise at the title.

"Monster Girl Encyclopedia…? The hell?" He muttered to himself and opened it, his morbid curiosity getting the better of him.

First thing he learned that the thing he fought was a monster, the other one… she and others of her kind had… a very specific diet to say the least, semen. He could feel disgust slowly rising as he read the book. Then, he read about the reproduction and just gaped at the book. Now he knew what the 'girl' had wanted from him before she attacked him. And from what he read, all the monsters were like this.

He found out what the monsters really valued and could feel as his jaw hit the ground. The monsters… they only had one thing constantly running through their minds, sex. They all wanted to copulate, have sex and bear children. That in itself was rather worrisome. The monsters would do everything to acquire a man, including rape. However, it also had an unexpected upside, the monsters were not really trying to kill him according to this book and his previous encounter with a monster seemed to confirm that.

However, to him, it was even worse. Ages ago, he encountered a woman, who not only drugged his drink, she also tried to force herself on him. He was able to kick her off and barely escape, but then she spread out rumours about him being a rapist, meaning, he had to run. Suffice to say, he never looked at the women the same way. And the monsters were going to find him, rape him, enslave him and keep him forever, never letting go. He would become nothing more than a sex slave to some kind of horny monster, unless he fought back. It was a world where lust and hedonism ruled above everything else, common sense included, which just sucked. Still, he had to know more, he had to know how deep this rabbit whole go.

He read further and one thing that really made him grip the book hard was the part about Monsterization. Demonic Energy… it could corrupt everything and everyone, men, women, children, all of them. This… was worrisome, much more than he anticipated. He didn't want to become an Incubus, no matter what. He was proud of his accomplishments, of being a human, he didn't want to change that, no matter what. He was glad neither Veronica or Cass were here, otherwise, they would be turned into Monster Girls, which seemed like a fate worse than death to him.

He could imagine Cass being turned into something like a Succubus and then trying to rape him… The very idea abhorrent to him. They were good friends, he would hate to see them turned into monsters. Then, he reached spirit energy and could only blink in response, as he read the section, his
Language: English
Genre: Literary Fiction
Writing Style: Narrative - Tells a story through a series of events
Narrative Style: First Person
Author Style: Agatha Christie: Mystery, Whodunit, and Suspenseful