Fallout Equestria: Spiral

~o/Fallout Equestria: Spiral\o~
By Changeling X

I used to think there was nothing more pathetic than a sobbing, full grown stallion. I still felt the same way, even if I was in that particular situation.

This was beyond my comprehension. My world was torn apart, not to mention my body. My whole life felt like a dream up to when I had woken up from Woden's punch. Then the cruel reality of what was really out there had shocked me so much that I had, for the most part, not understood what was really happening.

From getting drunk at a party to a slave caravan. It felt like a joke. But it wasn't and I hadn't even tried to escape. I had just laid there waiting for things to sort themselves out, wishing I was dating Black Quill or that I were back at the bakery making bread and brewing beer. I'm such an idiot.

If that wasn't the bucket of ice water that woke me up from my cozy corner of the imaginary world of ponies where everything is friendship, magic and beer, and getting owned in that fight with Tor didn't give me a hint, what he did later certainly did.

My butt hurt. A lot. I think it might have been bleeding a bit. My withers bore the marks of his claws which had dug into my flesh during his climax; my right shoulder stung from when he had bit down with his beak.

I had finally managed to push out the dirty cloth out of my mouth just before he climaxed inside me for the last time and to my shame I had not yelled at him or screamed in anger. I had bit down and pushed back. I had taken him deeper, without thought, and had cried out when I came too.

Tor had finally gotten tired and left as I lay in a pool of my own shame. My body felt alien to me. Unreal. Oh, the pain was there, reminding me that it was indeed my own, despite my horror and repulsion. I had been raped. Repeatedly. And by the end of it, I had, in essence, asked for more.

Tor had, as an act of mercy, released the straps on the bed and I just curled into a ball of self-loathing. I did not want to touch my own coat. I did not want to smell Tor's scent on myself. I did not want to breathe at all.

Thoughts and questions and recriminations plagued my mind. Why had I reacted that way? What the hay was wrong with me? It was one thing to date another colt and have fun, but another altogether to be raped and enjoy it. My body shook as the thought of what had happened really bore into my brain and exploded in all its glory.

I had been raped! I had never even looked at a colt that way, much less a giant cat-turkey! My mind was a mess but even in that state, the fact that I was making a joke was disturbing. I started smashing my head against the hard surface of the bed.

“Oh, my!” A voice interrupted me.

I looked up, snotty and red-eyed to stare at the unicorn mare from earlier. “You knew,” my voice was barely a whisper. It made me remember the taste of the rag. Ugh.

The mare looked away for a moment before her attention went back to me. Her horn glowed softly and a sponge, dripping with warm water, started cleaning my coat.

I remained silent as she cleaned me. I had to bite down a cry of pain when she cleaned my rear end. She changed sponges and, after asking me to step down, proceeded to clean up the rest of my body. She didn't say anything about the bodily fluids, thankfully.

“I knew,” she said after she was mostly done. “I was ordered not to warn you. I don't know what Tor would have done if I had-” she hesitated, before stammering the rest, “i-if I had spoiled his fun.”

I didn't answer.

What could I say?

I wanted to hate her, but I had spent all my hate on myself and just about everypony else I could think of already. And I couldn't blame her. Especially when she put the sponge down and the soft glow of her horn slowly took away the physical pain.

“What's your name?” I asked instead, somehow aware that my life was simply not my own anymore with that stupidly simple question. I was avoiding the issue.

“Treasured Clasp,” she replied, not looking at me.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” I whispered. “I just wish I couldn't remember.”

~o/FoE\o~

When I woke up, it was to the sight of Tor, in full gear glaring at me.

I was up and cowering in less time than you can say: gah! Something nagged the back of my mind. I felt utter shame and hatred towards Tor... but I had only lost the fight to him. Although I guess it was worse than I thought it would be if I was waking up from a punch the next day.

“Come with me,” he ordered, motioning with his head to the exit. “We're going down to the doctor's 'clinic'. We need to get you a weapon and some armor.”

I didn't look at him. I hung my head low and numbly stepped towards the exit. Just as I was walking right next to him, Tor grabbed my mane and slammed my face to the floor. I spat blood and tried to shake free, but he just pressed harder.

“This won't do,” Tor whispered in my ear. “Was last night too much for you? Aren't you made of sterner stuff? Are you worth anything at all?”

I tried to push my head up, but he wouldn't let me.

“Maybe you liked it?”

What was he talking about?!

His breath was hot against my ear. “You want to moan like a bitch while I mount you? That's it, isn't it? You liked it and you want more...”

I wrestled my head up, anger and shame boiling in me and giving me more strength than I thought I had. My hoof smashed on the side of his beak and his head snapped to the side.

I stood up, snorting in anger, glaring at him and ready to attack him once more, when he started laughing. He looked back at me and his beak parted in a smile. “That's more like it!”

I never saw the punch coming, but it just shook me. He wasn't aiming to knock me out this time. Tor stood up and faced me, eyes glinting and smile widening. “Just don't forget who owns you, pony.”

“Nopony owns me!” I growled and found a gun pressing against my nose.

“No pony, true,” Tor chuckled. “Just this griffon. Now, move!”

Incensed and still angry, I considered trying to escape then and there, but... I was afraid. Grimacing I did the only thing my fear would allow and I glowered at him the whole way to the clinic. There was something about Tor that I hated more than I could understand.

It was confusing... when playing hockey, I had been knocked out before by other players, but even at it's worst, with a broken bone and having to stay in bed for a couple of days, I had never felt such an unexplained anger and resentment towards another being.

The one thing I was absolutely sure about by then was that I really was a pathetic excuse for a stallion.

I knew I should be more upset about all that had happened; about the ponies that had died in the Stable... about my mother being taken away by slavers or Black Quill running away on me. But... somehow I felt detached. I knew I cared, but something had scarred me beyond that and I- I couldn't remember what it was. I just knew something had happened.

Unlike the day before, I did pay attention to my surroundings this time. The encampment bearing Woden's colors was small in comparison to other groups of griffons, or Talons as I would later learn they were called.

The reason was that Woden wasn't very big on hiring other griffons if he lost one of his own. It was loyalty transferred from parent to son or daughter; it was tradition, not a gathering of convenience. On my way I heard more of Red Eye's speeches, being broadcast by several radios and speakers around the area. I saw with my own eyes what it really meant to be a slave.

For all he promised his followers and those that were forced to listen that he was just as shackled by responsibility as they were by their slavers with real chains, I very much doubted he looked malnourished, smelled like drainage and made you want to scratch imaginary itches just by looking at him.

My fate had been different. I didn't count myself lucky, but looking at the slaves and how some of the slavers looked at mares and stallions- I realized that I hadn't necessarily drawn the short end of the straw, even if it was close.

To my shame I would later realize that I was looking at the silver lining... and the silver lining was that I got to get showers, be healed, eat better and from what I had gathered from Tor, I was going to get trained for combat of some sort.

In exchange for humiliation, self-hatred, insecurity, questioning my stallionhood, being Tor's bitch and the object of pity from the local nurse. I snorted and stopped for a second in confusion.

“Move!” Tor snapped, taking a swipe at me. I shook my head and followed once more, my thought's drifting.

I frowned. Where had those thoughts come from? Nurse? I shook my head. This was confusing. Why did I feel less of a stallion when facing Tor? Why did I have an instinct to cringe when he looked at me in a certain way?

I was having a really hard time deciding how I could be better off and yet not. My mind took me back to happier times in the Stable. I had had my share of mares. I was intimidating when I wanted to, although thankfully I was never a bully. I was respected by most, not by the mare I wanted, but by most...

I felt my eyes watering and I wrenched my thoughts back to the present. That wasn't even nostalgia. I was wallowing in self-pity; moaning into my mind how I wanted things to go back to when everything was right and the world was enclosed in walls and a ceiling.

Thankfully, we arrived at the 'doc's clinic' before I lost myself in misery. I looked at the ramshackle building in front of me in confusion. This was a doctor's office? It was little more than a shack and there were more mechanical things strewn over than actual medical equipment.

A sign, rusted and dirty, announced in letters that had been pieced together from other signs, that this was 'Dr. Attic Lock's Mechanical Emporium.”

“Why are we here again?” I asked, forgetting, in my incredulity, that Tor was somepony I did not want to talk to.

“To get you outfitted for battle!” Tor laughed, smacking my back as if he were my bbff. It really made me want to kill him even more. And then jump up and down on his dead body until it was a pulp, then grow a horn, revive him with my suddenly gained magic, kill him and repeat the process.

He guided me in inside, but my dark thoughts still plagued my mind and as I lowered my head and grumbled inaudibly, I accidentally ran into an earth pony that was actually bigger than I was. A solid mass of muscle with a freaking anvil for a cutie mark. I did not want to be on his bad side, but I was already on my way to be pulped! My lack of attention had caused a box he was balancing on his head to tilt dangerously. I hit the floor as I lost balance and stared in horror.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. I could only watch as the box tilted further, and worse, glass bottles filled with some sort of red-black liquid started to slide out!

A soft red aura suddenly enveloped the falling box and levitated it off of the stallion's head, and just in time! Having felt the box shift he had overcompensated and had he tried to rectify the situation unaided, the box would have smashed into pieces.

“Careful there!” the unicorn said amiably, even if there was a hint of annoyance in his voice. “That is very, very hard to get!” he chided.

“Sorry, Candy Stripes!” the large stallion apologized immediately, and I heard Tor take in a sharp breath.

I cringed. “No, please forgive me, both of you, if I had been paying attention this wouldn't have happened.” I said, looking down.

“Well, pay attention next time!” a feminine voice chided. I looked up to see... surprise, surprise! A pegasus! An actual pegasus! And she was cute too! Her cutie mark was a brown leaf in the middle of a cross hair.

She looked dangerous though. And it wasn't the fact that her cutie mark was sniper-appropriate.

She had an air about her that just screamed 'I'll kill you and laugh while doing it!' She stopped and looked at me with scorn, before her eyes turned to Tor and narrowed.

Tor held her gaze for a moment before snorting and looking away.

“Come Autumn Scope,” the Candy Stripes spoke up. “We have things to do, and I'm sure these gentlepony and griffon have also business to attend.”

She smirked. “Sure thing,” she nuzzled him. “Let's get going. I have some ideas I wish to try with you,” she added seductively. I liked her. She could kill me, but she would do it in a sexy way and I was okay with that.

Candy Stripes chuckled, putting the box down on a counter. “There. Doc, make sure you use it wisely!”

“Here, let me help you up, little guy,” the gray coated stallion I had stumbled onto earlier lifted me up and put me on all four hoofs, dusting me slightly before nodding. “Hope you didn't hurt yerself.”

“I- no, I'm fine. Thank you,” I muttered grimacing with embarrassment.

He nodded and walked out after Autumn Scope and Candy Stripes.

“Now, how can I help you, Tor? How is my daughter doing?” An elder, green coated unicorn asked, levitating the box and its contents from the counter and placing them safely in the back of the store.

“My... friend here needs a blunt weapon and armor,” Tor said distractedly, keeping an eye on the group of ponies that had just left until they were lost in the crowd. Once he had lost sight of them he turned to look at Dr. Attic Lock. “He needs a practice weapon of the same type.” He frowned. “And your daughter... she's fine. She was helping out some of my father's warriors when I last saw her this morning.

“Good! That filly has a talent for healing, I swear!” The unicorn gave me an appraising look. “And what type of weapon would you like, hmm?”

“Powerhooves, if you have any,” Tor spoke up for me. I had no idea what the hay 'powerhooves' were.

Attic Lock snorted. “Powerhooves,” he stopped and tapped his chin. “Powerhooves... I- yes that could work...”

“Do you have any?” Tor asked again.

“What? Oh. Yes, I do, but I am afraid I am short on them. I can only give you two for the hind legs,” Attic Lock said. “As for a weapon...” he gave me a considering look. “This stallion might be strong enough to use it,” he mused eyeing me up and down. “He looks the type that is more effective at smashing through things, but certainly I can get him something!”

His horn flashed and a strange weapon floated up to me. It had a bit handle and a chain attached on one side to the handle, on the other to a metal ball with spikes.

“What is it?” I asked, looking at it curiously.

“A flail,” Tor replied, eyeing it critically, before nodding to Attic Lock. “And it works. I think you can learn to use it properly.”

Beaming a smile, Attic Lock placed it next to the power hooves on the counter while I looked around. I had never seen so many weapons! Even the security station in the Stable hadn't had half the amount here. Not to mention the variety.

There were wicked-looking claws that would attach to a pony's hooves, or horn extensions for unicorns to gore their enemies with. There were swords and knives and spears and maces piled all around. Why somepony would chose one of those over fire arms was a mystery to me. But I guess the fact that you wouldn't need ammunition for them was the appeal.

I stole a glance at Tor. He had that mace on him, but he also had two guns, one on each side, plus the blades on the tip of the wings. His armor looked bulky, but it couldn't possibly be that bad, since he was able to fly in it. I snorted. I had no idea what I was talking about. Armor? Hay, I had worn security barding just once. What did I know about armor? Still, something did catch my eye. A glint of metal glistening in the light from under the cover of a thick blanket.

Shrugging, I took hold of the blanket with my teeth and pulled back, revealing under it a set of armor unlike anything I had ever imagined. It was solid and polished. The whole thing would cover a pony of my size from tip of the ear to tip of the tail.

“Is that–” Tor spoke up.

“Not for sale!” Attic Lock interrupted. “At all!”

“But it's a Steel Ranger armor!” Tor exclaimed. “How did you get one? And in perfect condition?”

Attic Lock narrowed his eyes. “This armor belongs to Candy Stripes,” he said. “And as much as you imagine it to be, it isn't.” He approached the set of armor and his magic opened it. It was completely hollow inside.

“It's just the metal plates?” Tor sounded disappointed.

Attic Lock nodded as his horn covered the whole thing again with the blanket. He then put a warning tape around it and a sign that read: Do not Touch!

“Everything else is gone, yes,” Attic Lock growled. “And I would appreciate if you would stop your associate from poking around. First the samples and now the armor,” he glared at me. “Stand in the middle of the room and touch nothing!”

“Just get him a simple armor,” Tor muttered. “Something Pit-approved.”

Attic stopped and his glare faded a little, giving me a pitying look. I was getting tired of those. “I see. I'll see what I have that will fit him. He's as big as Big Macintosh!” he chuckled.

My ears perked. I could have sworn that I had heard that name before.

“But far less capable,” Tor added, glancing at me. My ears lowered and I shot him a resented look.

“Here,” Attic Lock put a dull gray and dark gray armor up on the counter next to the other purchases. “Now about payment...”

Tor grinned. “Why, you can take it yourself!” he motioned at me with his head and I suddenly dreaded what he was suggesting.

Attic Lock frowned when he looked at me, clearly not understanding what Tor was insinuating, but as he looked at me his eyes widened and a smile crept onto his face. “A PipBuck!”

“In perfect condition,” Tor added. “Just fresh from a Stable too.”

I sighed in relief, not understanding why. What had I feared Tor was insinuating?

Attic seemed to be salivating and that snapped me back to reality. I took a step back. “N-no!”

Tor growled. “You will part with it now!” he growled. “This is better than what Red Eye would do to you to get it off, believe you me!”

I looked at the doctor. “Please...”

He reared back and took a deep breath. “Listen, son,” he sighed after a moment, his horn glowing as another, sturdier-looking armor replaced the one on the counter. “I'll be fair with you and upgrade the equipment to match what the minimum market value of a PipBuck is. But you have to understand, that thing is not going to keep you alive here.” He motioned with his head towards the weapons and armor on the table. “Those are. Where you are going- your PipBuck will not stop a bullet; it won't deflect a hit or enable you to pulp your opponents. It will not protect you from radiation, or allow you to shake yourself rid of toxic goop before it eats through your body.”

With each thing he listed my world felt smaller and smaller. I could feel my heartbeat accelerate. Just what was Tor throwing me into?

“In short, kid, what you are paying for by giving me that PipBuck is your life. Because, as I look at you, I can tell: you have no idea what is waiting for you. And you are not a fighter, yet.” Attic Lock smiled a little. “Let me help you get to the point where you become one and can consider buying it back.”

I calmed down a little at that. “I can... get it back?”

“If you survive,” Attic nodded and shrugged. “And if I haven't sold it by then, but you can only do so with what I have at the counter aiding you.”

I was convinced. But I hadn't been working at the bakery for a while without learning a few bartering tricks myself. Attic Lock was a master of it, and the worst thing was that he was pretty much stating the facts in a very friendly way so I couldn't really use a 'you exaggerate' approach. I needed the armor and weapons more than I needed the PipBuck and we all knew it. My brain considered the options. It was clear that Tor was going to train me. That and some practice, plus the right weapons might allow me to kill the bastard and go free. Or win my freedom and then kill Tor. Whichever came first. I still had to figure out if I could get free. And how.

And so, I nodded, but added; “Fine, but this PipBuck has been upgraded to Engineering Level. It has all the programs and all the quirks you could get.” Up to level 2 out of about, oh, 5 or 6, but really, who was counting? “I think it's worth a bit more than your average PipBuck... so how about you add a couple of fire arms and we call it even? Just don't erase anything because I will come back for it and I want my stuff to still be there.”

Attic snorted and two small revolvers, along with holsters and a box of ammunition for each landed on top of the counter, along with the almost-forgotten hard-rubber version of the flail.

“There,” he said. “I think that's a fair deal, no?”

I could see it in his eyes. He would exchange more for my PipBuck but... “Yeah, that's enough.”

The process to take off my PipBuck was actually less harrowing than I thought it would be. Attic Lock had laughed at Tor when the griffon suggested it would take a while to take it off, muttering something about a Doctor Slaughter being a moron.

I would not trust a pony named Doctor Slaughter to even look my way. Who in their right mind would?

Apparently Red Eye, Tor and Attic informed me.

He entrusted all of his newly captured, PipBuck-wielding slaves to Slaughter's tender hooves. I added another unexpected ray of hope to the silver lining.

Soon, Attic had managed to convince my PipBuck that my leg wasn't something it wanted to be attached to and within seconds it had slid down my hoof and was floating in the grasp of Attic Lock's magic.

“And payment is procured!” He gushed. “I don't know how long I can hold on to this PipBuck,” he confessed, looking at me. “But since you asked nicely I will back-up all your files into my terminal under your name...”

“Bitter Hops,” I said, rubbing the place where my PipBuck used to be. It felt... naked. And cold. It was really weird.

The doctor chuckled, while Tor gave me an amused glance. Soon, though, Attic Lock had packed the whole purchase tightly and strapped it to my back.

“Good luck in the Pit, kid!” he called as we walked out.
After a few minutes I couldn't hold it in anymore. “What the hay is the Pit?”

Tor gave me a considering look before focusing again on our route. “It's a coliseum of sorts. Red Eye holds fights there for everyone's entertainment. Most of the time its slaves that do the fighting, but Talons and certain individuals are allowed to send fighters in for special matches between them.”

“But I can't–”

Tor didn't stop or look back, but he did interrupt me. “You will. Because what you will be facing there will kill you otherwise. Because you have an instinct to survive. Because you are as much of a coward as you are brave. And you will win and fight again. And you will become better, or your punishment from last night will be nothing to what will happen to you.”

“My... punishment? What are you talking about?”

Tor stopped this time and looked back at me with a frown. “You're joking.”

I simply shook my head. What was happening? Tor looked partly annoyed, partly pleased and completely confused. Finally he grunted and started walking again. “If anything this will make training harder,” he muttered.

I felt a growing sense of dread starting in my stomach, but, surrounded by so many armed griffons and slavers, it was not the time to do something stupid. I needed to have a good idea of what I would do.

~o/FoE\o~

Turns out my revolvers were put away by Tor, since I couldn't use them in the Pit anyway. Turns out that I would be able to only use the flail in most matches, but there were allowances for certain fights to allow me to use the powerhooves and even the guns.

I still felt all sorts of completely foreign emotions when it came to my griffon master. I hated him, but I did not know why. I was confused by him; he was a bastard one moment, amiable the next.

He watched me put my armor on with a look that made my skin crawl and my stomach flip. Why? I couldn't understand it. But after I had put it on, his look was one of firm resolve. He picked up the practice flail, grabbed a mallet of the same material and motioned for me to follow him.

We went through his tent onto the back area of Woden's camp. The tents made an impromptu on the ground. There were dark red splotches of what I was pretty sure was blood and practice weapons were strewn about; A couple of griffin, with wings tied, were circling one another on the farther side of the ring, taking swipes with their claws and deftly avoiding each other.

Tor stepped inside the ring and motioned for me to do the same across from him.

“This is called a flail,” he said, showing me the practice weapon. “It was designed by my people centuries ago. Most ponies don't have the neck strength to use it, since they have to hold it in their mouths. He started spinning the flail, showing me how it was done. “The flail is a brutal weapon and very effective if used properly. Like the hammer, it packs a tremendous punch,” he instructed. “But it also has other advantages.” Tor smirked tossing the flail to me. “Start practicing the swirling,” he ordered.

I hesitated. “How long do I have to learn this?”

Tor snorted. “The rest of the day,” he smiled a savage, shit-eating smile. “Your first fight is tonight!”

I gulped. I could feel my body start shaking. It was almost like my first few games. That was it! It was a stupid idea, but the best I could do... I would treat this as a game.

I started twirling the flail.

It was an hour or so later that Tor told me to stop. Or it felt like an hour. My teeth hurt, and my neck felt very tight and strained.

"That's enough of that," Tor said. "Twirling it around like that in combat is nothing more than showing off and unnecessary if you know the right stances."

"Then- then why did you make me do all that?!" I gasped, trying to regain my breath.

"Because you need to build neck and mouth strength," Tor rolled his eyes. "And you need to know how much you can manage.

It sort of made sense. It still made me want to hit him. More.

"Now," Tor said picking up my real flail. "Observe," he used his wings to stand on his rear legs, facing me. He slung the flail so that the chain went over his shoulder. "This is how you use a flail for an angled, downwards attack..."

I paid rapt attention as Tor lost himself in forms and how to use them. It was a different griffon that stood in front of me. One I could almost not hate.

We had to adapt the movements to fit my equine physique, but after several hours of training I was able to not hit myself or over extend and fall.

For now it was time to rest... soon I'd be facing my first fight in the Pit.

~o/End Chapter\o~

Level up!

Little Leaguer (Rank 2!): Keep swinging!