So I don't know if many of you play much Fallout 3, but I sure do, and after completing it several times, I keep coming back for me. And the reason is that it has an unlimited potential for stories. For those that know Fallout, I'm talking about the whole story of the Keller Family, The Republic of Dave and even stories can come from that various Vaults. those are just small side notes on the whole of the Wasteland, but it just shows that there can be no end to the number of stories that can come from Fallout.
And with out further adoo, just a small fic about one of my characters. Hope you like it.
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Another night in the peaceful and deadly Wasteland. This place seems to be filled with so many stories. Unfortunate it couldn't be discovered sooner. As I continued to walk, I found something so beautiful, so heavenly, so breathtaking. I ran to it, using the last ounces of my strength from that day to make sure it didn't escape. I couldn't help but be overcome with joy. It was a house. A Pre-war intact house! As I got to the front door my common sense came rushing back. I quickly slammed against the wall and pulled out my .44 Magnum. I slowly opened the door and looked inside. It was too dark to see anything, but if it was empty, it would be a perfect place to sleep for the night. I creeped in, watching where each foot stepped. Suddenly, I heard a loud yell from above me and felt a bullet wizz past my head. It was from a hunting rifle. That meant Raiders. The lights came on, and I found myself staring down 5 bloodthirsty Raiders.
"What should be do with him, Boss?" asked a creepy Raider to my right.
"Invite him to dinner." A large man in an overcoat said with a very deep voice. They all suddenly lunged at me, but my VATS just happened to kick in. They all fell to the floor in an instant; a bullet perfectly between each of their eyes. The man in the overcoat came to the balcony over looking me. He gleamed at me with one eye, the other hidden behind a patch.
"You're not bad...for a Vault Dweller." He mocked.
"That was a long time ago. Much has changed." I replied, calmly watching for any movements.
"Indeed. But it still doesn't change the fact that you didn't have to grow up like the rest of us. You lived in luxury. Clean water, pure air, efficient waste disposal systems." He talked as he slowly came down the stairs.
"And let me guess, no need for violence?" I put my gun in it's holster.
"You do know many things, you're time in the Wastes have taught you much. But what have they taught you about pain!" He leaped forward, his hands coming out from under his coat, carrying a rusty katana. His move was quick; I barely saw it fast enough to move out of the way. But his sword cut the back from my jacket. It fell to pieces at my feet. He turned, thinking he had easily hit me. He saw me standing there with the several hundred scars that covered my back and arms.
"I've had a few experiences with pain...have you?" A flash of metal, and his head tumbled to the floor; his body followed shortly after. Blood dripped off the tip of my shock-sword, which hit the floor and pulsated. I grabbed his coat and took it upstairs.
After eating all the mac and cheese and Cram from their fridge, I was good and full. As I hung my new coat and my various other effects in a closet in the bedroom, I looked over at the incredibly pristine queen-size bed. It would be good to actually sleep on a mattress. I leaned my sword against the nightstand and turned off the light. As my eyes started to close, I felt something I had not felt in many years...happiness.
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I have created a world without strife.
You probably think they are slaves. You're wrong. They're my family.
