"Between Realms: A New Dawn

I noticed that window had a crack in the corner, as the sunlight streak across my bed. I focused on it, the way it curved across the glass. Outside, the world moved on, like it always had. People were probably walking their dogs, buying groceries, rushing off to work, just living. The kind of life I'd never had and never would.

Sixteen years. That's all I got. And for most of it, I was stuck in a bed, tethered to machines, surrounded by doctors who only ever talked about me like I wasn't even there. But today, it wasn't about tests or treatments. No more blood draws, no more needles. Today was the last day.

I couldn't even feel sad anymore. Not really. My family, they had stopped coming a while back. At first, it was little things. My mom missing a visit because of "work." My dad saying he was stuck in traffic. Then it was whole weeks with nothing. I overheard one of the nurses whispering about how they'd stopped paying the bills. I guess I wasn't worth the expense.

The door creaked open behind me. I didn't bother to turn my head, it took too much effort these days. I heard the nurse's soft steps as she came closer. Her voice was gentle, too, like she didn't want to startle me. This nurse had been more family then my actual family. She had let me use her old laptop to play games for the last year. I had played fallout new Vegas, fallout 3, fallout 4 and Rimworld.

"Sweetheart, is there anything you'd like? Anything I can get you?"

For a moment, I didn't answer. My voice felt so small now. But after a second, I managed to croak out, "Strawberry ice cream."

I hadn't had ice cream in years. It seemed like the kind of thing you should have one last time, though. Something sweet before… well, before.

The nurse smiled. I could hear it in her voice. "I'll be right back."

She left, and the room got quiet again, except for the steady beep of the heart monitor. That sound used to scare me, back when I was younger. Now it was just background noise. A constant reminder that my body was still trying, even when it was dying.

When she came back, the ice cream was in one of those cheap little cups with the tiny wooden spoon. She pulled up a chair beside me and peeled off the lid before handing it over. My hands trembled as I reached for it. The cup felt heavy, even though it couldn't have weighed more than a few ounces.

"Take your time," she said softly.

I tried to smile at her, but my face didn't quite cooperate. I focused on the spoon instead, scooping up a small bite. The cold hit my tongue, and for a second, it was almost like being a kid again. It tasted like summer, like the days before hospitals and diagnoses and knowing words like "palliative care."

I managed two, maybe three bites before my arm gave out. The spoon clattered against the cup, and the nurse reached out to steady it before it spilled.

"That's enough," I whispered. My throat was dry, the words barely audible. She nodded, setting the cup aside. I didn't ask for more. It was good.....

The minutes stretched on, quiet and heavy. I could feel my body slowing down. The beeping on the monitor started to space out. Longer pauses between each sound.

Beep....beep...

The nurse didn't leave. She stayed by my side, her hand resting lightly on mine. Her touch was warm. My breath came shallow and uneven.

I turned my head toward the window. The sunlight had shifted. Outside, a bird landed on the windowsill, its feathers ruffling in the breeze. It didn't stay long. Just a brief pause before it flew off again.

My chest ached, and my heart thudded weakly, the sound loud in my ears. And then, there was just one. A single, hollow thump.

A tear slipped down my cheek. Just… everything. Sixteen years of everything.

The nurse squeezed my hand gently. "It's okay," she was crying, her hands trembling. And then everything when dark.

The first thing I noticed was the silence. Not the eerie kind, but the kind that felt like a warm blanket. It wrapped around me, cradling me gently, and for the first time in forever, I didn't feel the constant hum of machines or the ache in my chest. I opened my eyes slowly and I was met with an endless expanse of stars.

It was breathtaking.

I was standing or maybe floating on nothing, yet I didn't feel unsteady. Above me stretched a galaxy of swirling colors, a mix of deep blues, purples, and golds that pulsed like a heartbeat. I turned slowly, trying to take it all in, when I noticed her.

She sat casually on the edge of a massive planetary ring, legs crossed, one hand resting on her knee while the other idly traced patterns in the air. She was… stunning. Not in the untouchable, intimidating way, but in a warm, comforting way. Her presence felt like a hug.

Her long, flowing hair shimmered like molten silver, cascading down her back, and her eyes, oh, her eyes, held the depth of a thousand lifetimes, which was weird to think but seemed right. She smiled when she noticed me staring, a soft, motherly smile that made something in my chest ache.

"You're awake," she said, her voice rich and soothing, like a melody. She gestured for me to come closer, patting the space next to her. "Come, sit with me."

I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I even could move in this strange place, but as soon as I thought about walking, my feet found the ground or whatever was supporting me, and I made my way over. She waited patiently, watching me with a kindness like that of the nurse. When I reached her, I realized just how small I was in comparison. She exuded an aura of power, it made me feel safe.

I sat down beside her, glancing nervously at the vast emptiness around us. The ring of the planet we were on stretched endlessly, glittering with tiny fragments of ice and rock. Below us, the planet itself swirled with stormy clouds.

"Where am I?" I finally asked, my voice soft and uncertain.

She tilted her head, her silver hair catching the light of the nearby stars. "Between," she said simply. "Neither here nor there. A place outside time itself."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "Am I… dead?"

Her expression softened, and she reached out, brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear with a tenderness. "You were," she said. "But I brought you here. I wanted to give you a choice."

"A choice?" I frowned. "To go back?"

"If you want," she said. "I could send you back, heal your body, let you live the life you were robbed of."

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, I considered it. The idea of going back, of having another chance… but the thought of that hospital, of my family that left me alone for months made my stomach twist.

"No," I said quietly, shaking my head. "There wasn't much of a life left to go back to."

She nodded, as if she'd expected that answer, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of sadness in her eyes. "You've been through so much," she said, her voice softer now. "It isn't fair, what happened to you."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just looked down at my hands. They didn't look weak anymore. No IV lines, no trembling. Just… me.

She snapped her fingers, and suddenly, the galaxy around us shifted. Stars burst into being, planets formed and crumbled, and in an instant, we were sitting on the edge of a ring made entirely of shimmering crystals. She leaned back, her gaze fixed on the endless horizon.

"Tell me," she said after a moment. "Did you ever have something you were passionate about? Something that made you happy?"

I hesitated, then nodded. "Games," I admitted. "I loved games. When I was too sick to do anything else, they… they let me escape for a little while."

Her lips curved into a knowing smile. "And which ones did you love the most?"

I didn't even have to think about it. "Fallout," I said. "And RimWorld."

She turned to me, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "And if you could live in fallout? If you could have the chance to build your own story, to truly live, would you take it?"

My breath caught in my throat. "You mean… go to Fallout? For real?"

She nodded. "You wouldn't be reincarnated. You'd go as you are now. I'd heal your body, remove the disease that held you back. Make it so you would never get sick again. You'd get a fresh start."

I looked out at the galaxy, my mind racing. The idea was overwhelming, but also… exciting. I'd never really lived. Not the way I wanted to, while Fallout wasn't really a safe place I still didn't mind going over there.

"If I go," I said slowly, "could I… have a few things? To help me?"

Her smile widened. "Of course."

I hesitated, then took a deep breath. "Could I be a Mechanitor? Like in RimWorld? I… I want to be able to work with robots. To build them, program them. So could you also make me smart enough to do that"

Her eyes sparkled with approval. "Done," she said. "You'll have the knowledge and the skill to create and control Mechanoids. All you'll need are the materials."

"And… a system?" I asked tentatively. "Like RimWorld's research tab? So i could even make the modded robots too."

She snapped her fingers. "Granted. Though no storage or store," she added with a playful smirk. "You'll have to make do with what you can carry."

I nodded. "What about my stats? My S.P.E.C.I.A.L. stats?"

With another snap of her fingers, a glowing screen appeared in front of me, listing everything my attributes, skills, even the quirks that made me… me. I couldn't help but smile as I read through it. It felt right.

She leaned closer, her voice gentle. "Anything else?"

I hesitated, then glanced down at my hospital gown. "Clothes," I mumbled. "a Pip-Boy. Maybe a backpack?"

She laughed softly, the sound warm and rich. "Easily done."

With a wave of her hand, I felt a strange warmth wash over me. The gown was gone, replaced by worn, a classic vault suit, with a leather jacket, a pair of long cargo pants with extra pockets. And nice steel toed boots. A Pip-Boy materialized on my wrist, and a backpack appeared on my back.

"You're ready," she said, her tone proud. "The world you're going to is harsh, but I have no doubt you'll thrive."

I turned to her, my throat tight with gratitude. "Thank you."

She cupped my cheek, her touch feather-light. "Go," she said softly. "Live."

And with a final snap of her fingers, the galaxy faded.

I blinked hard as the flickering fluorescent light above me buzzed. My eyes adjusted slowly, the harsh white glow. The first thing I noticed was the smell, metallic, damp, and faintly musty, like an old basement.

I was in a room. The walls were concrete, the floor bare except for a few scattered bits of trash. A storage room, maybe. My back pressed against the cold wall, and I realized I was sitting, my legs stretched awkwardly in front of me. My hands fumbled against the floor, finding textureless dust and grit.

One second, I'd been sitting beside her, feeling the hum of a galaxy she'd conjured like it was nothing. And now… here. Wherever here was.

I sat up straight, the motion making my head spin for a second. My gaze darted to the door a heavy, metal thing with a scratched-up handle and no window. Closed.

I dropped my backpack onto the floor in front of me. The straps were a sturdy leather, and the faded fabric looked like it was brand new. My fingers worked quickly, pulling the zipper open.

The first thing I saw was a gun. Not just any gun, an energy weapon. A charge pistol. The smooth and slight hum of it made my chest flutter. It looked like it had been modified, though. A small slot on the side made it compatible with energy cells. My hands shook slightly as I picked it up, turning it over to inspect it.

It was beautiful. Compact, sleek, and absolutely badass. A tiny smile tugged at my lips. I'd always loved energy weapons, the idea of firing a beam of concentrated light just felt… right. Plus no knock back.

I set the pistol down carefully, my fingers brushing against a small stack of energy cells in the bag. Six in total. Not a lot. Digging deeper, I pulled out three bottles of water. Next came three MREs. The tan plastic pouches were perfect. I frowned, turning one over in my hands. Hopefully, they didn't taste as bad.

There were medical supplies, too, two stimpacks, their bright red liquid glimmering in the dim light, and two RadAway packets. The bright orange liquid sloshed inside their plastic containers. I also found a single small bottle labeled "RadPills." My fingers traced the smooth plastic, seemed like there were around 18 pills inside.

I repacked everything carefully, taking inventory in my head. Water, food, medical supplies, ammo, and a weapon. Not bad for a start, though I had no idea how long it would last. My fingers brushed against something else at the bottom of the bag, and I pulled it out, a tool belt. It was empty, but the loops and pouches were still intact. I smiled faintly, slipping it around my waist and fastening it snugly.

Might as well be ready for whatever this world threw at me.

The flickering light above me cast strange shadows as I stood up, my legs unsteady but functional. Shelves lined the walls, mostly empty except for a few dusty cans and broken tools. I ran my fingers along the edge of one shelf, feeling the cold metal beneath the layer of grime. A faded label peeled away from one of the shelves, the writing too smudged to read.

I glanced toward the door again. A faint dent in the middle made me wonder what had hit it. My fingers itched to open it.

My gaze drifted back to the shelves, scanning for anything I might have missed. A small cardboard box sat in the corner, its edges frayed and the top partially caved in. I crouched down, tugging it open with careful fingers. Inside were a few loose screws, a rusted screwdriver, and what looked like a strip of electrical tape. I grabbed the tape, tucking it into my tool belt along with the screwdriver.

The room was cold, the kind of cold that settled into your bones and stayed there. I rubbed my hands together, trying to get some warmth back into them. My breath came out in soft puffs, visible in the dim light.

I glanced back at my backpack, the charge pistol resting on top. The weight of it in my hands felt good, reassuring. My thumb brushed over the trigger guard as I held it up, aiming at nothing in particular. The soft hum it made when I powered it on was the most satisfying thing I'd heard in ages. I grinned, the excitement bubbling up despite the situation.

This was real. I was here, in Fallout. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I had no idea where I was, what city, what year, or even what kind of enemies might be outside that door. But the possibilities made my heart race in a way that felt more alive than anything I'd experienced before.

I slung the backpack over one shoulder, adjusted the tool belt around my waist as i put the charge pistol in one of holster, and took a deep breath. My fingers hovered over the door handle for a moment before gripping it tightly.

I turned the handle and pushed the door open.

I bit my lip, fumbling with the Pip-Boy on my wrist. My fingers moved on instinct, tapping through the menu until the soft, green glow of the Blue light mod illuminated the room around me. It was dark as fuck out there. It seemed that only this room had working lights.

Vault Girl's sprite, cheerful and waving, popped up on the screen. The Blue light beam it cast a small amount of light around me. I adjusted my grip on the charge pistol in my other hand, I'm so glad Im ambidextrous.

So I was in a subway tunnel, judging by what i could see around me. Really wished I was dropped off somewhere better then this place.

I took a cautious step forward, the beam of the Pip-Boy sweeping the ground in front of me. My boots scraped against the concrete floor, the sound louder than I expected. Too loud. I froze, my heart thudding in my chest as I strained to hear anything beyond my own breathing. Nothing. Just the faint, empty echo of the noise I'd made.

Stepping fully into the tunnel, I glanced behind me at the door. There was no point in staying. I adjusted the backpack on my shoulders, tightened the tool belt around my waist, and pressed on, the Pip-Boy's light bobbing with each step.

The air was colder out here. The tunnel stretched ahead. The concrete walls were cracked and peeling, with rusted tracks running parallel along the ground. Trash littered the floor, scraps of paper, old cans.

The air was thick, damp, carrying the scent of rust and something fouler underneath. The kind of smell that clung to the back of your throat, metallic and rank, like death.

My fingers were stiff from the cold, my grip adjusting on the charge pistol.

The tunnel stretched ahead, my Pip-Boy's blue light casting shifting shadows along the cracked walls. The silence was the kind that made every small noise loud. My breath came out in slow.

Then something moved.

I snapped the pistol up, heart slamming against my ribs. A flicker of motion just at the edge of my light, a scuttling form darting between debris. My pulse pounded, fingers tightening around the trigger. The thing stopped, twitching, its silhouette hunched and insect-like.

But then, the Pip-Boy's glow caught the glint of its exoskeleton.

A radroach.

The damn thing twitched again, its antennae flicking toward me before it scurried away into the darkness.

Something about the quiet felt different now. Like I wasn't alone. The cold pressed against my skin, the hairs on the back of my neck prickling. Then I saw it.

At first, I thought it was just another pile of trash. But as I stepped closer, my stomach turned. A body. Or what was left of one.

The corpse was slumped against the wall, bloody bones wrapped in tattered flesh, ribcage split open like something had peeled it apart. The head was missing. Long gashes ran across the ribcage.

That's when I heard it.

Click.

The sound was sharp, unnatural, reverberating off the tunnel walls. My breath caught in my throat, my hand tightening around the grip of my pistol.

Click-click.

It wasn't an echo.

My Pip-Boy's light swept across the tunnel, the glow barely piercing the darkness ahead. My ears strained, picking up something else, movement. A scrape against the concrete, like nails dragging across stone.

Then, just at the edge of the light, I saw it. Coming from a side tunnel.

A hand.

Too long, too thin, the skin stretched tight over the bones. Fingers splayed out unmoving, as it rested on the highest part of the tunnel. My heart hammered against my ribs, my mouth suddenly too dry. My brain screamed at me to run, but my body locked up.

The fingers twitched.

And then, from above, the clicking started again.

I swallowed hard, the realization sinking in.

The radroach hadn't been running from me.

It had been running from something else, whatever was the owner of that long hand.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Click.

The sound came again, this time from above. I tilted my head back, the Pip-Boy's beam climbing to the ceiling. My stomach churned as I saw it. No, them.

There were two of them, clinging to the pipes above. Their skin was slightly translucent, stretched tight over sinewy muscles, and their faces… God, their faces. The sockets where eyes should have been were sunken and empty, their mouths hanging open in a grotesque grin that revealed rows of jagged teeth. Their heads twitched in unison, tilting toward me like they were listening.

I stayed frozen, every instinct in my body screaming at me to run, to move, but I couldn't. My heart hammered in my chest, loud enough that I was sure they could hear it. As they opened there mouths.

Click.

Click-click.

The sound was bouncing off the walls. The one closest to me sniffed the air, its ears it turned its head sharply, the motion too fast, too wrong. My boot had scraped the ground.

The first one let out a shrill, piercing wail, the sound cutting through the silence. My body moved before my mind could catch up, spinning on my heel and sprinting back toward the storage room. My boots pounded against the concrete, the Pip-Boy's light bouncing wildly as I ran.

The screeches behind me grew louder, multiplied. More of them. I didn't dare look back, the sound of their limbs scraping against the walls and ceiling filling the tunnel.

I reached the door, slamming it shut behind me and throwing my weight against it. My chest heaved as I gasped for air. My head snapped around. searching the room frantically for anything I could use to block it. My eyes landed on a metal shelving unit, and I lunged for it, dragging it across the floor with every ounce of strength I had.

My breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, my body still locked in the adrenaline-fueled haze. The metal door in front of me groaned under the weight of the shelving unit I had shoved against it, the sound echoing in the room. My hands trembled, the charge pistol feeling heavier than before, my fingers stiff against the trigger.

I pressed my back against the cold concrete wall, forcing air into my lungs, forcing my mind to catch up. The screeches had stopped—

Click, Click, Click

The creatures weren't leaving. They were still there, right behind the door.

Click.

They were speaking to each other. My stomach twisted. It wasn't random. It wasn't the panicked thrashing of mindless beasts.

A sharp scrape cut through the air, nails or whatever they had for fingers, dragging along the metal. The door shuddered, vibrating as something pressed against it, hard enough to make the frame groan in protest.

A lump formed in my throat. I swallowed it down and forced my feet to move. I needed to think.

That's when I saw it.

A handprint.

Pressed into the grime near the far corner of the room.

I swallowed hard, my legs moving on instinct, closing the distance. It was fresh, just a faint outline of fingers smeared against the concrete.

It wasn't human.

The fingers were too long, unnaturally spread, each one tapering off into a sharp, almost claw-like tip.

I took a shaky step back, my boot scuffing against the floor.

The clicking on the other side of the door stopped.

Silence.

Fuck.

The room felt smaller, the air thicker, pressing against my chest. My own heartbeat was the loudest thing now, drumming against my ribs.

The rattling stopped.

I backed away slowly, the charge pistol aimed at the door, my breath still ragged. The tunnel beyond had gone silent again. I tightened my grip on the pistol, my knees threatening to buckle beneath me.

Click.

The sound came from above. My head snapped up, the Pip-Boy's light catching on the ceiling. One of them was there, its head tilted at an unnatural angle as it clung to the wall, its body twisted in a way that shouldn't have been possible.

Its mouth opened, and the shriek came again, deafening and primal. And then it leaped.

[Hope you enjoy this teaser. This is one of the stories I'll work on once I finish one of the three fanfiction I'm currently working on. Let me know what you though and if you liked it.]