But He Stopped Pt 2

Fresh Poison Each Week

"Eyyyy, Johnny!" The bruiser cracked his raw, bloodied knuckles across my face again, chuckling. "What you gunna do 'bout it?"

The screams of the woman were unbearable. I could barely see her past the huge man. My face burned, the cut above my brow bled into my eye. The skin around my other eye was already swelled shut, my lip split and swollen.

"Y-you can't do this!" I argued, feeling weak.

I didn't just feel weak, I knew I was weak; constant chem usage and living as a drifter without proper nutrition or shelter had made me less of a man and more of an animal. My skin sucked in on my bones and muscles, I was always tired, always hungry.

But I deserved this. Every time I closed my eyes I was haunted by Guy's grin, by the trust in the eyes of the ghouls I'd led to slaughter. By the people cheering for the murder of innocent lives. It was on me. I could have done more. I should have done more. Here, in Goodneighbor, I couldn't make a difference. I was too weak to make a difference. Too inexperienced, too soft. Too much like a tame, broken creature. Too many broken bones, too many crushed dreams, too many friends murdered in the street.

I pulled myself back up on shaky limbs, wiped the blood from my eyes. I ached everywhere .

"S-stop hurting her!" I lunged forward, throwing a punch.

It bounced right off the man. He sighed, his muscles flexed under his tight white shirt, his tattoo's poked up from the collar as his buddies ripped the clothes from the woman's body, violating her as they did so. I felt sick.

Again. Panic set in, it's happening again .

Blindly I attacked, lashing out without plan, without thought, without reason.

"Oh Johnny." He rolled his eyes as his meaty hand wrapped around my arm. I heard a sickening crack, felt pain shoot up my body.

I screamed. The drifters around me shifted around in uncomfortable silence, muttering in anger and terror - too high, too scared, too out manned to do anything.

"You should've just let us do our thing." He hadn't let go of my arm, instead he was twisting it. "Now we're gunna have to hurt her too." My shoulder popped, my arm fell limp and useless at my side. "And I'm gunna make you and your drifter buddies watch."

I knew the horror showed on my face when he laughed, slapping his knee.

"You should see yourself!" He crowed, "Your face all busted up, your arm dangling like a noodle, and still you have the gumption to look angry. I like you kid. You've got something." He grabbed my face, squeezing until I tasted blood. "Now you'll watch. Here!" He shouted to some of his goonies, "Hold this fucker. Don't let the others look away."

Another rough set of hands replaced his. He grinned spitefully as he pulled himself out of his pants. The woman before him screamed and cried, begging. I felt the tears falling from my face as my shouts joined hers. Another punch to the ribs. I heard something crack, the pain washed over me and took my strength to stand. I spat out blood as I fell against the arms holding me.

"S-stop. Please stop." I whispered.

He met my gaze, pulling out a gun as he grabbed the womans throat with his free hand. He fired into the crowd three times, I heard screams.

"That did it." He grinned again, a disgusting animalistic thing as he plunged into her. "That got me hard."

She screamed in agony, in terror.

"That's right." He moaned, "keep screaming. I like it when you bleed."

I puked, the guy holding me laughed. "Fuckin' pansy-ass."

There was a scuffle behind me. I wreaked my brain thinking.

"How pathetic." I scoffed.

The bruiser paused his attack on the woman, "Excuse me?"

"You gotta fucking rape women to get your nut off?" I mocked. "Even us drifters don't have it that rough."

He grinned wickedly, "Nice try." He grabbed the back of her neck, thrusting into her harder.

She had stopped screaming, instead crying silently. He ground hs teeth, growling as he came. He zipped himself back up and strode towards me. He crouched to eye level, smacking me hard enough to make my head snap back. Stars errupted in my head. Pain engulfed me white hot. He was talking, but I couldn't hear him. My head was ringing.

I fell to the ground as another man stood before the woman, the world faded to black.

I ate. I got high. I chased that high like every other junkie in town.

I ate. I hid from Vic's men. I got fucking high as shit.

I got high. I hid from Vic's men. I got even more high.

It was a miserable existence, worse than when I had been in Diamond City though I could never being myself to go back. I stood down the street often enough, watching the guards patrol. I couldn't go back though. The ghosts of the innocent people I'd let get killed, of my mother, haunted the city. The hollow smile of Guy lurked in the shadows of every alley way.

"I can never go back."

I took another hit of Jet, slapping the broken pavement beneath me, leaning against the state house. "Whaddya want, Paul?"

The kid peered at me from under his too large sea captains hat. Her hesitated a moment then removed it. Paul was an interesting kid; he showed up in Goodneighbor four months ago, didn't talk much.

"I can't go back either." His voice was low, soft.

A huge scar ran along his bald head, dark and puckered.

"What happened Brother?" I offered him a packet of mentats.

He raised a three fingered hand, declining. His eyes drifted to his fingers. He trailed them over his head.

"My mom was with a guy. He didn't like me." His young face darkened with a smile, "After this happened I left. Can't go back."

I wanted to feel bad for him, a part of me did, but that was the way. Most drifters had some sad story. Most drifters were the kind who felt to much, felt like victims.

Stayed victims. The thought turned sour in my head as I popped a couple of the mentats, relishing in the way my mind sped up, connecting sequences and events in half the time.

I started planning.

"Hey Paul." I grinned, throwing an arm around the kids shoulder as he paused for me.

As the youngest Paul had become something like everyone's little brother. We were a pretty tight knit group, more so as Vic's men thinned the herd; chasing away new comers, killing off the older wave that had been through the town previously.

It was almost fun havin a kid like Paul around.

"What's up John?" He fiddled with his hat, "I was just heading over to the digs."

"Mmm." I growled, "What's for dinner tonight?"

He shrugged, "Probably some variant of mole rat soup.just like every night."

I laughed at the truth of the kids words. "I'm going tonight will be a little more exciting. I've got some plans, kid. Big plans. Too change things around here."

His eyes darkened with questions but he didn't say anything. I was brimming with energy, it had been a long, long time since I'd felt this hopeful about anything.