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Author Topic: Fallout Short Story  (Read 7076 times)

Fallout Short Story
« on: November 17, 2010, 05:43:20 am »

I recently wrote a 4 page short story ala the Fallout Universe. It's a quick, action packed read, about an unnamed character looking for his sister. The story takes place in the wasteland and New Reno, it's only a ten minute read but I will eventually continue it. I figured that some of you die-hard Fallout fans might be interested in it. But I wrote it quickly in my spare time as a means for getting back into writing. There's lots of symbolism to it, and it's pretty gory and funny. In fact the main character is addicted to all of the drugs in the game, and there's a nice feel that you are actually in the game. However it's a continiously violent story, with dead children, drug use, racism, evil, and slavery. The main character is neutral, but feels responsible for his sisters kidnapping. Although suffering from drug addiction, and schidzophrenia he is generally trying to do the right thing. It's not for the faint of heart :P
Enjoy

The End of Dayes

April 24th, 2241, I'm heading south-west. That's where I was told to go, and that's where I'll find her. It's been too long I can't even bare to think about it, what they've done. It's 66 miles to Reno; I've got a full tank of gas and a bottle of Rotgut to take the pain away. I think I’ll be fine, drinking’s always easy when you’re on the road; there's nowhere to go but straight. Whole ground is ash and there's nothing but road between me and my destination. Too bad I might pass out if I don't make it before the Jet wears off; I'm floating on a fucking cloud. But what's this?! A caravan out in the middle of nowhere...Normally I would stop my car to say hello but I'm way too high for that right now. I step on the gas and go faster, and, faster, and faster than I've ever driven. I need to find my sister...

The next couple of hours I'm drifting in and out of my head; like a dirty glass full of water. I just can't say no. But she's screaming, and it's my own damn fault, I know it is. Fuck, where’s my goddamn Jet! I'm getting the shakes again. Hmm, the sweet bitter taste again, the light headedness. Yeah. I'm good. But she's still screaming, so I step on the gas to drive away from this shit. I can't escape it though, but I don't care. I take another hit of Jet and just keep driving. I'll be there tomorrow, but I can't stop now. Not yet, not until the pain goes away.

Fuck! I can't take it any... I'm thankful for this car, for the gas, for the bullets, for the food. I am thankful that there is hope in man and that my sister... Is still alive... Thank you for the windshield, to keep my eyes free of dust. Thank...

FUCK!
I hit a rock and my car is sent flying. It's wrecked. But I, I am still alive. I drag my goddamn body out of the wreck and stumbled over to what I hit. What I thought was a rock, was a dead child. Torn to bits by wolves, it's a sad fucking sight. My stomach turns, and I lose what's left in my stomach. It didn't help that the child was hit by my car at all. I remember, taking another hit of Jet and passing out...

I awoke in chains - well it was rope, really. Disarmed and beat up. I could see my bloody remains reflected on a piece of glass they cut me with, I knew because it was covered in my blood. The pain I felt helped me relate and understand my surroundings. I was ambushed, "Highwayman" style. I shouldn't have been drinking... But I remember it like it was yesterday. Having pulled a left over piece of glass from my backside, I slowly cut through a few layers of my palms but finally managed to slit the rope. My addiction to Psycho helped me resist pain, but my fucking hands still hurt. I could barely hold onto a gun, but the Jet helped for that.

The room was a shit-hole, and it smelt like a bunch of Cannibals lived here. My stuff was gone, even my boots were missing. It was too dark to see really, but I could make out what looked like a door; there was moonlight shining through its cracks. The room was silent though, but I knew someone would be coming for me soon, either to finish me off, or sell me for ransom. Heh, too bad they didn't know that nobody wants a worthless Jet head that's chasing his dead sister’s shadow... I would cry, but I’ve just cried too much. That's what the Buffout is for.

"Get to the point, asshole."

My point...was that they weren't Cannibals. In fact they just stumbled upon that old shack in the middle of the fucking ashes of Mankind, and left me there to die. But I didn't give them a chance to let that one happen, oh boy! You bet your ass I didn't! I sat right back down onto that chair, pretended to be tied up and waited for those motherfuckers to step right back into my new found trap. And like a bird on a fucking feather they came stumbling in. I watched them and smiled as one of the three men crept closer, and closer. "You know your guna' die now" they shrieked, but I just sat with myself half exposed by the light, grinning a farewell grin. Up I sprang like a killer to a feast, hands in air I set upon one man's throat and snapped his sissy neck like a wish bone. And how that wish came true! The next man screamed in terror as I plunged his dead friend towards him, knocking him to the ground. Then my barefoot was hurled into the heart, then the throat of the soon to be lifeless man. Unfortunately, the third Highwayman shot me in the gut before I could finish him off. Too bad for him I fell unto his friend’s pistol, and with that pulled the trigger to make fail their plans. Too bad, eh?

"So you killed my men, almost with ease I might add. Then what? How did you survive that gunshot wound? Let me guess, Rotgut? 
Or was it more Jet?"

It takes more than one bullet to kill this man, man. You should have kept that in mind, the next time you try to take someone's sister. I pull the trigger. It, is the best goddamn trigger, I have ever pulled. The splashing blood and brain fragments didn't even bother me. Like a rush of Heroin I could almost sleep right now. But my job isn't done, and it's a long road and there are just too many stops for me to skip. I hope the next one feels this great. I tend to my wounds, loot the room, and find my stuff stuffed into a duffle bagged marked "Evidence". A sick joke I thought, and step out into the wasteland. It was still dark, but I could see where I crashed. There was a small opening through the rocky walls around the shack, indicating that this was a well hidden shelter. I'll remember this place I thought, as I drag the lifeless, murdered corpses from the shack and throw them to the vultures. Fuck you, I spat, and returned to my wrecked car. It wouldn't drive again, but I could salvage the parts and attach them to the Highwaymen's Jeep. It wasn't better then my Honda, but it sure beats a Buggy any day. I welded my doors to the Jeep, changed the lights, added a quick make-shift roof and off I went. Back into the pile of shit they called Post-War America. YOUR America, you sick fucks.

This is the part where I take some more drugs, but I didn't have any drugs left. One thing that pissed me off about the Highwaymen was that they did all my drugs. And I mean ALL of them, a couple of hours later they would have probably overdosed, if I hadn't had killed them. I did them a favour, you don't want to O.D off my shit. I've been there, and there's only ONE way in getting out of it --You don't. Shit look at me. I could see my reflection in the half-broken side mirror of the Jeep. I need to sleep, or just fucking sane up. I look like a psycho! Fuck it, I thought! I need to find my sister, and I've came a long way. A whole country over, and I'm already on my fifteenth car. Thank god they made a lot of these before the bombs fell.

I drive for hours, and I'm not even half way to Reno. I stop the Jeep, and pass out. I wake up to the sun glaring in my eyes and I'm on the road again. I’m outta Jet, but I've still got plenty of Psychos --for those intense moments. But she's not screaming, and I don't have the shakes, so I stay clean. It's April 25th now, and I'm still documenting this trip. The people of the future need to know what people like me have done to help bring hope to this fucking place. And it's a big fucking place, with little amounts of people like me. I am still heading to Reno, and I'm still looking for my sister. I'm close though, as the smell of Golgotha reaches my nostrils. It's fucking bad, I don't understand how people can step foot in there. I can see it all roll past in the distance, fresh graves, and no vultures. The stench is just too bad. But I don't care about the people that have been buried there; it's a gravesite for losers, not winners. And Uncle Sam needs winner’s baby!

I'm here, Reno baby. The, place, to, be. It's my kinda town, but it's not my kind of day. The dying Slaver told me they were bringing my sister here, to auction her off in one of the casinos to the richest pimp. As I ripped what jaw he had left, I remember the Slaver telling me that I would never find her, unless it was raped dead in a ditch. I ate my radscorpion off of his jaw bone that night; it wasn't one of my proudest moments. But it made me feel a whole heck of a lot better. I'm trying to find a place to park, but nowhere looks safe enough. There's a nigger with a gold fucking tooth asking me if I want to pay for safe parking...What a moron I thought, who the fuck is gonna leave their car to a dealer? The black man behind him tells me to park out in the wastes and walk in. I do that.

I'm not even walking the streets of Reno for more than 5 minutes and some hooker is trying to whore herself out to me. Shit, if only I had the time honey. A drug dealer with a cheap beard approaches me with a trench coat full of drugs. Jackpot I thought. I pull out my firearm and put a hole in his head; taking his boatload of drugs with me. Score! Thank fucking God I'm in Reno! Anything goes baby! The rest of the whores, pimps, dealers, and low-lives go about their business and I'm walking inside the first Casino I see. It's full of Hispanics... Not a place for Slavers to make their profits, Hispanics were known to be a little shifty. Nah these guys wouldn't deal with the Hispanics, so I'm off. I walk out the door, and then it hits me. Right in the face like a bad habit, she's not only screaming at the top of her lungs, but my head is spinning. It didn't help at all that I just got a baseball bat to the skull. I'm down and I'm just gasping for air.

"Thought you could just kill my boy, and take his shit eh? You dumb mother fucker! I'm guna..."

I take a hit of Jet and the world turns slower, I kneel up and place my trigger to his throat and pull down. The calm rush of peace fills the air as one less thug walks the streets. The brain fragments land on the nearby door bouncer, but he's smiling too hard to care. "The loot is yours big guys." I say as I walk away towards the next casino. I'm standing at the doors to the Sharks Club... it's an old building, and the sign is half worn out, but it looks like a classy joint. Definitely a place for some wannabe rich Slavers, I inject a tank of Psycho into my veins, swallow a couple of Mentats and I'm inside. Nice place, fucking full of centipedes playing roulette, and a dwarf working the sluts...Oh man, I'm high. I black out.

I'm watching myself drag myself into the bathroom, where no one seems to have noticed me yet. Shit...”Look at myself” I think. I'm starring into my reflection in the broken glass when I see him. Smiling like a jackal, the bastard that took my sister is trying to take a piss in the urinal beside me. I turn my head to face him, and he's looking right at me, just as surprised as I am. Looks like he pissed himself too, couldn't get it out in time. I ring my dirty, drug rattled hands around his neck and I start asking him. "Where is my sister? Where is my sister?" "She’s dead" he says before I break his neck. But I'm running out of the can, with my goddamn gun in the air like a maniac. And that's when I see her! Shackled --In chains! My little sister is being pawned off to the highest bidder. Half naked, crying, and scared she is screaming, begging for me to save her. And that's when I snapped.

With blind fury I fired, and fired, blasting holes into people's faces, I’m tormenting the Sharks Club. But like a fool, I am hit by many bullets. I take more, and more, and more of my drugs until I am numb. I, am, invincible, and nothing that night could have killed me. I grab my freshest kill and use him as a human shield, his bleak, expressionless face makes me laugh a bit, but he's getting shot a lot. And soon his body will be of no more use to me. My sister; still on the stage jumps to the ground and cuddles into a corner to hide, she is safe from the bullets, but alas this casino must die. If not for me alone! Then for the future of all men with sisters! I pull the trigger, over and over and over again, running from each room, to each corner, killing everyone. I am looting my victim’s weapons as I speak and I am using them to kill their friends. My armour is still hit, over and over again. But I don't care, I am numb. The last man falls dead on the ground --well it was a woman, a female roulette dealer. I shot her out of blind rage, and for that I am truly sorry. No matter, my sister runs to my arms and I can hold her once again. I smile, for the first time...My first smile.

Please insert “4” credits to continue.

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Pryszczu666

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Re: Fallout Short Story
« Reply #1 on: November 17, 2010, 01:48:18 pm »

Amazing, it's like a wasteland story written by Stephen King and directed by Peter Jackson, an epic combination ! Wish to see some more ;)

Michaelh139

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Re: Fallout Short Story
« Reply #2 on: November 18, 2010, 03:17:55 am »

"Inserts 4 credits" 

Wheres my fucking story this is freaking awesome!!  MOAR!
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Re: Fallout Short Story
« Reply #3 on: November 19, 2010, 12:14:21 am »

I''ll post a few more chapters eventually, glad people like it.
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falloutdude

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Re: Fallout Short Story
« Reply #4 on: November 20, 2010, 02:16:37 am »

i really like this story i cant make cool storys like this so i like it when people write them really nice looking forward to a second back :) :)
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Roaming the waste again.
Re: Fallout Short Story
« Reply #5 on: November 26, 2010, 09:57:16 pm »

If anyone is curious as to other things I've written, check out my small "Best of..." online http://www.writing.com/authors/corosive i suggest joining that website too if you are a writer.

Anyhow my stuff is mostly about murder... hope it's inspiring to you all!
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Re: Fallout Short Story
« Reply #6 on: December 16, 2010, 08:21:17 am »

Proud to have made the updates :) here's the rest of it. I didn't spell check it but it should be RELATIVELY short of spelling mistakes, enjoy. The trail ends here but Fallout is my bread and butter so expect some more stories of quote un quote "Rape and Murder"
--------------

--------

April 26th. My sister and I walk slow, across the barren wastes. As I barely grasp the strength to pull myself through another mile, we stumble upon my Jeep, nestled secretly among the rocks, and barren structures. I could use some Jet right about now, but I can't let my sister see me like this...not again. The day was cold, but we managed. We drove away from the shit hole called New Reno and headed north, far north. My sister at the wheel, and my wounds healed. I fell asleep, dreaming of a love I could never have. I awoke to a loud scream in the distance. Glaring over my shoulder, I remember seeing a few highwaymen, doing what appeared to be raping a young farm girl. My sister cried as she drove away, mumbling "Im going home, I'm going home" over and over again. I fell asleep, how little of use I felt, but alas I can not wake up.

But she's screaming again, and I finally snap out of it, and remember where I am. The Jeep had ran out of energy cells, but it was still in good condition. If I could find some more cells, my sister would stop crying. And I could finally get back home. Luckily for us, I remember seeing Modoc in the distance. I took my sister's hand, and walked towards it. Nothing stood in my way, and for a moment, all went well.

"Sometimes, the journey never goes the way you expected it to"

No man, but sometimes when the gun gets into the OTHER hand: its called justice.

"Justice? I'll tell you about justice. Justice is getting back at the guy who stole his fucking slave, and killed half his men!"

Too bad you had to take my sister. Now tell me, before it's too late, where is she?

"You don't remember? What the fuck is wrong with you"

I...

We walked into Modoc with the thumble weeds too afraid to come our way. The town was covered with a layer of dust and patheticness, it was worse than Reno so we tried to make it quick, it also didn't look very safe. I walked into the first building I thought was a store and found a black man who was missing a pinky finger...I figured a tribal must have made him a deal. Man I could use some more drugs...

Hey gimme that box of Mentats!

"What the fuck is wrong with you! Why are you telling me this! You want these?! Eh you fuckin nitwit?! Take em' they'll fry your fuckin' brain you know!"

And that's better! As my sister turned away to search the shelves in the building, I purchased what I like to call a G.E.A.K or in other words a "Garden of Eden Addiction Kit", it's got a couple of Mentats, some Buffout, a Psycho, Jet... which I took almost immediately...Fuckin' delicious. A condom, a bottle of Rotgut, and finally some more Jet which I almost took immediately but my sister came back to my arms. The black man stared at me for a while and asked if I needed anything else, I asked about the cells but he didn't know what the hell I was talking about. I punched him in the nose and as he bled he sang to me that Ol' Grisham was hoarding all the cells in the rebuilt outhouse. My sister stood mortified and asked me "Why did you hit him so hard!" I replied "Because he was angry at me" I didn't know what else to say really... I was pretty high off that Jet... I really don't know why I hit him. I gently took my sister's hand and stormed towards the outhouse.

I'm not as angry anymore now that my sister has returned, but I'm still pissed how violent people can be. Frankly it disgusts me, I don't actually enjoy cutting open people's stomachs or shooting them in the face...

Hey don't you fucking move or I'll shoot you in the face!

But I still think man was destined for much more than all this...

"Stop rambling and get on with it!"

You mean you want me to kill you now?

"No! Please! Con...continue your story!"

That's better. Where was I?

""You don't enjoy shooting people in the face..." Now could you please get that gun out of my face now?"

No. I took my sister's hand and walked towards the outhouse. There were a lot of guards in town but they didn't look like they worked for Modoc, half of them looked like  Mercenaries too tired and beat up for Reno; they came to Modoc for a nights sleep. It's too bad I came into town. My sister and I walked into the nearest saloon... some shit hole called Rose's Bed and Breakfast. As the sound of my boots creaked the wooden floorboards I could smell him, good ol', Ol' Grisham; smelly danky fuck. "Howdy padner'" he said as my sister and I walked towards the bartender. Rotgut I asked, and make it stronger than you've ever served, It's been a long fucking day. "Don't swear so much man" my sister said as she ordered some water. "1000 caps" said the bartender. I put my sawed-off to her throat and told her it would be "affordable or I would have to kill her and than pretty much everyone else in town in front of my sister just because you wouldn't serve a sweet thirsty girl a glass of water" she smiled and said "Your right, let's just forget this every happened, here's your water" My sister smiled, I was glad.

I drank my whiskey and it was strong. My sister took an empty Gamma Gulp bottle and hit me with it, "Don't ever do something like that again! What's wrong with you! All this killing isn't making you any better than them! You know that don't you?" I got mad a bit and told her that I knew but I'm trying to be the fucking shepard! But there's a lot of bad people that need to die! And there's a lot of bad things that are going to happen to them and every other one of these shit head Americans that started the fucking war! My sister slapped me and drank her water. I swallowed a Mentat when she turned away, they taste like Swedish Berries --Delicious. I immediately apologized and begged her to just bare with me, that everything I did in the end was for the good of everyone. I'm not a bad guy, I just do a lot of bad things to a lot of bad people... and... and to those that get in the way. She tried to nod in approval and maybe she succeeded by remembering the young girl being raped. I hugged her and we moved on. I apologized to the waitress but as we were about to leave that old smelly basterd approached me. I had my sawed-off to his throat by the time he got near me. "Relax friend, the name's Ol' Grisham..."

Spit it out you silly fuck I...heard a noise and sprung around, I lost my mind for a second and hit the old man in the face. Where are the fucking energy cells! I screamed at the top of my lungs. My sister took her arm off me and sat down. Where are the fucking energy cells! Where are the energy cells! I beat him repeatedly until a few mercenaries came blasting into the bar ready to kill me, I quickly shot them all in the face and went back to punching the old man. Where are the energy cells! Where are the energy cells!
My sister stopped me, "Your beating him too hard, he's going to get senseless. Than we'll have to go digging through that shit ourselves. Geez, just let him talk"
The old man pulled out one of his teeth and brough us to the outhouse. I yelled at the mercenaries outside to just get out of my way and no one will get hurt. The basterd led us to a ladder which I told him to climb down into and get me some quote un quote "Fucking energy cells before I kill you and everyone else in this shit hole town" "How many" he replied. I kicked him down the hole and said "Enough to get me the hell away from you!" He came back with 1000 and we were on our way out of Modoc.

And that's when it fucking hit me, who was standing by my Jeep? You and your fucking team of mobsters, you couldn't just let me drive off back to Canada and live in peace with my fucking sister eh?! WEll fuck you! You and every other American are the reason the world is like this! If it wasn't for you people I would be home right now, sitting with my sister! Arm in arm! We could be watching the sunrise together! ANYTHING! But no, you had to take her away, beat her up, put a gun to her head and make me come running gun in hand, get me addicted to every fucking drug out there and than what?! Yeah come here and fucking kill you all, and your neighbours and your neighbours friends, and the fucking roulette dealer and... I take a hit of Jet! And the fucking dogs! You couldn't just let me be happy! You can't just be civil?! The whole world has to be some kind of fucking game to you, where you just abuse the people around you?! That's life?!! Eh, is that it! You fucking disgust me! I should just shoot you now! But no! No! That's too good for you. Now shut the fuck up and listen:

April 27th. My sister is gone, she's been taken back by the Slavers that took her. Apparenly I didn't kill them all, but it's not a problem. I was captured by them also but that's another story. I quickly escaped and have begun torturing the man that planned all of this.
I take a pair of pliers and rip off his left nipple. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" That must have been pretty loud. I'll remember to warn the holodisk when to lower the volume, "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Shut the fuck up you stupid basterd! Get up! Get the fuck up! Take this lighter and stop the bleeding! He does it, I laugh "Hahaha! --yes that was me. Now take me to my fucking sister! Now!

"What are you doing?" I'm talking into a holotape, I'm recording this whole thing. I want... I want the world to know what people like me have done to help make this world a better place. "Your so silly, do you want me to drive?" Sure, I'm going to take a nap...Goodnight.

----------------

April 28th,
It's been a hell of a week and there's a lot of crap out there that I hope I don't have to pick up. If all this drug use and shit makes me lose my teeth and my potence than fuck you God for not watching out for me! The bullet wounds have healed nicely, there weren't many but my armour needs some patchwork. The Jeep is driving great and we've got plenty of fuel, food, water, smokes and Rotgut. No Jet I'm trying to go clean, I still have a boatload of Psycho and Mentats though, but those are for the rare occasions of gambling, bullshiting and/ or killing. I'm trying not to kill however...Still trying to be the Shepard and all that Pulp Fiction Pre-War bullshit. It's hard not having drugs, everything seems so...lacking...like it just looked better, felt slower when I was high. Drugs are bad though, my brain and my heart hurt sometimes. However they keep the badassness up high and the trigger fingers always rested. My sister and I drive away from the New California Republic, we're leaving all that shit behind us, the South is way too bloody for me. If I stay in the states any longer I'll turn into a monster... than my sister would be the one eighter saving me, or shooting me in the face and/or splitting open my guts...
"Hey! I wouldn't do that!" Oh sorry, I didn't think you were listening...this is a uh soliliquy. "Well your talking into a holotape strapped to your chest...I've heard everything you've said since monday. You should have seen yourself in the Sharks Club. "I walk into the Sharks Club...I start blasting holes into people's faces!" Hahaha! You were so high! UH.... "THe funniest thing was when you walked in, I was thinking "Yay! I'm saved!" and than you took a bunch of drugs and passed out. The whole club was like "Who the hell is this guy?" Than you come running out of the bathroom shooting everyone! You must love me so much! I hope I can find a guy like you one day"

Wow, I'm a terrible influence on my sister. Sis being the "Shepard" means to be the good guy, to do what's right, to make sure that the world is safe forever. If you want to be like me, don't, just try to be the Shepard. "Your funny, but you've got brains on your shirt." Yes I am stained with the blood of my enemies... does it make me look pretty badass? "Yup you look great, like a loving psycho with a drug problem and no smile" The only thing I can really hope for is that until we get to Canada no one tries to fuck with this no smile loving psycho. "You should teach me to shoot like you" You should teach me to steal like you. "Later, shooting first, let's pull over by these docks"

Alright first things first, start with the basics sis. When you point a gun at someone for the first time you gotta look at em' straight in the eyes and say do you know what day it is? "Why?" Because its badass... sheesh sis it's what the Shepard would do! Ok and than when they say something like wednesday or please don't shoot me, or whatever it is, you say no, it's Judgement Day! Than you shoot them in the face, pretty easy right? "Uhm no, come on! Teach me to shoot!" I am sis trust me, killing is all mental it has nothing to do with the gun. When you look someone in the eyes don't look at them, look at the evil, everything they've probably done wrong. Chances are your looking at a dead man already, so by pulling that trigger and shooting him in the face your actually doing him a favour. You see sis, God needs people to sin so the Devil has people to punish. Being the Shepard is all about bringing people to both God and the Devil. So when I killed that roulette dealer I... "By accident..." Yes by accident of course... Uhm... Well I sent her to God. "Cheery" Yes indeed. Now sister, do you know what day it is?!

"It's Judgement Day!" *Bang!* *Bang!* Nice shot, but you totally missed that Raider's face. Always aim for the face, it's normally a lot more effective in a mass fire fight. Remember that it's..."Judgement Day!" *Bang!* ...Amazing shot sister! but uh remember that it's nice to let the enemy waste their ammo shooting you while in cover, or while high and standing in the open, so that your armour absorbs the... "Judgement Day!" *Bang!* ...Heh sis, you don't have to say it all the time, but it is pretty cachy! Bullets, than yeah. Your getting the hang of this aren't you? Your a real natural, you must get it from dad. Three Raiders on your first day! Wow I'm really impressed sis. "Thanks! It feels good to actually... you know... kill someone that deserves it. It's like that's what we were born to do... Judge..." You wanna be super heroes? And run around the day shooting people in the face? We could totally start a gang and like call it the Judgement Day Club... "Let's get back to Canada first, I'll drive."

"Oh my God remember when those Slavers took me? And you totally punched a guy through the face and you came running out of the barn with a dead guy between your wrist screaming do you know what day it is?! I swear one of the Slavers pee'd his pants! He was all like we're gona' die! I'm so sorry! Than his boss slapped him and ran into the truck." Uhm, no I actually don't remember any of it, it's been a long trip... "Well you killed eight men that night. You really don't remember? Three of them came into the barn and you came out draggin the third on your wrist...You shot two and killed the rest with your bare hands... You really don't remember? It was only last week or so. No I don't... I try not to think about the things I've done too much... "Well I really hope you can teach me to fight the way you do, I don't know how you do it..." Sis, sometimes the world just slows down and you get a huge moment of clarity, everything seems to just set itself in motion and in place, but only when you truly believe your doing the right thing. God aids the good guys, angels aren't born their made. When you wish to judge the day everything will just seem clear and your bullets, your fists, your mind, heart, or rage will guide the way.

"It's Judgement Day" It's Judgement Day baby, hah. I'm glad we're on the road again, it's safer here than anywhere else so far. Watch out, we're almost near the border, do you still have your papers? "Yeah, I'll never lose those" Good, if you didn't have them though my PipBoy has all your history. "Can I have yours IF you die? Sure sis, but let's try to find you one in Ontario. "But I want one like yours, I like the backpack style ones, the wrist one just feels too bulky. I really like the way yours runs down your spine" We'll talk to Cooper, I'll need him to help me sell all this gear anyways. "You looted all the people you killed?" Yup, took everything and stored it in the trunk. You didn't think I would leave all that loot alone did you? I want to retire from all this killing one day. Maybe even buy you a house when your ready to settle down. "Papers and registration please" Here you go "Do you have anything to declare?" Uh... we have a trunk full of guns, armour, ammo, drugs, mostly just shitloads of Psycho's and Mentats, food, water, meds... UH... whole bunch of shit really. "Hey hey! nice score! So you guys from around here?" Nah we're from Ottawa, yourself? "Waterloo" Oh I'm sorry man... "Nah, It's cool, the place was a shit hole anyways. Well you guys take care, welcome back to Canada!" Thanks It's good to be home.

"Trunk full of guns? And they let us in wow" Yeah our papers were cleared, if your a born citizen they put a lot of trust into you. We can pretty much bring in anything we want, except for you know, slaves and shit. "So what do you want to do now? All that...killing has kind of gotten' me excited..." Oh, you excited in the pants baby? "Gross. No I mean, if we can make a lot of caps bringing in loot from the states why not do it?" Are you trying to get me to start a business looting America with you? "Uhm...Yes." I love you sister, let's do it. After I get a chance to crash for a bit and sell what we got to Cooper we'll head back out to California. "Hmm, wanna' go to Washington instead?" There's a lot of Super Mutants out there... "What's a Super Mutant?" Picture the things we've been fighting but dumber, green and with very big guns. "Oh never mind than, who the hell wants to fight a Super Mutant?" Their not that tough, just try not to pick a fist fight with one. "I bet they have ugly babies" Their sterile sweetie "Oh well where do they come from than?" No one really knows, they were made by the government in a bunch of labs but a few of them blew up. Now theres rumours that their making themselves, apparently some of them are smarter than us, but I think their all pretty stupid. "Who's the government?" Well sis, before the bombs the world was ran by "governments" which were a group of people that were in charge of the whole country, they kept balance and order and things like that. But eventually they got fat and greedy and wanted more then they actually needed. Than a group of starving people came by begging for their excess waste and the government said "No fuck you!" than the war happened. "Wow the government sucks" Yeah mostly, but we need it. Canada would be like the states if we didn't have a military left.

Now go out and play FOnline!
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Michaelh139

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Re: Fallout Short Story
« Reply #7 on: December 16, 2010, 01:28:29 pm »

I would pay you for such good quality work. :)
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runboy93

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Re: Fallout Short Story
« Reply #8 on: December 16, 2010, 01:33:22 pm »

You got even skills to make own book about wasteland :D
Keep it up

Pryszczu666

  • "And if you gaze for long, into an abyss..."
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Re: Fallout Short Story
« Reply #9 on: December 16, 2010, 04:00:32 pm »

When is the book coming out ? ^^
Re: Fallout Short Story
« Reply #10 on: December 17, 2010, 05:12:52 am »

when i can find a publisher lol
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