[FO3] Capital Wasteland: One Man's Battle For Survival In Hell.

[H0wZ4T!]

Original writing, inspired by the world and events of Fallout 3.

EPILOGUE

In the millions of years that the Earth has existed, mankind has continuously evolved and changed, according to the conditions it has faced. Whether that is a result of climate change or natural phenomenons or man-made incidents, the people of Earth have always found a way to carry on and maintain the values that keep humans: human. Family, friendship, community.

On the 23rd of October in the year of 2077, it took just 120 minutes for mankind to plunge itself back to its primitive beginning. A war. The war that made all wars before it look so insignificant and tiny, when compared with this 'Great War'. The combined energy released in the space of two hours was far greater than every other conflict in the entire history of Earth. The aim of this mass destruction: no-one really knows. There was never an aim, just a number of events that drove each state to the absolute brink. The diminishing of the Earth's natural resources, leading to a bloody war between the European Commonwealth and the Middle East. Then came the Chinese invasion of Alaska and the subsequent response from the U.S.

During the nuclear holocaust of 2077, some people were lucky enough to escape their homes to the safety of bunkers, known as Vaults. These vaults had a number of purposes; some were social and psychological experiments on its inhabitants, designed to create a better understanding of people and how to create a better world. But, the people who could make it into this supposed 'safety' of the vaults were isolated in the outside world. A world that is a shell of what it used to be. A sparse radioactive wasteland, littered with the remnants of human civilisation, representing humankind's determination to rebuild and reform.

This bleak battleground is where HE was born. This is where HE will mostly likely die. But this is where HE will make his legend. His legacy. This is the world as we now know it, populated by the sheer number of blood-thirsty wasteland civilians, battling each other for drugs, money and people. HE will have to take arms, if HE is going to survive this hell and achieve his goal. Because war? War never changes...

Author's Notes: So. Hi. Basically, in the past I have used this section to showcase my wrestling stories and I was going to start another one. Instead, I have decided to use this forum as the medium in which to practise my writing skills for my A-Levels, whilst having fun with a game I enjoyed a lot and a site I used to be active on and decided to use again. In conclusion, I'm trying something different and I hope you enjoy it.

 

[Kiko_97]

A story on Fallout 3.......AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You've caught my interest.

 

[H0wZ4T!]

CHAPTER ONE

"Make money your god and it will plague you like the devil."

It was a rough night. The wind was brutally cold, and the shack I was holed up in was falling apart. The wood was crumbling, with small holes that the sun sparkled through to wake me from my slumber. Who'd have thought woodworm would survive a nuclear holocaust? The Capital Wasteland is the exact same as every other place I've walked through. Brown rocks, dusty roads, shrivelled black trees, all are a harsh reminder of the current world. I pulled myself up and over a small cliff top, before crawling onto the flat surface of broken tarmac. In front of me, I was greeted by the sight of another beaten-up shack. But, this one was different to my home last night. On the make-shift door, there was something in what appeared to be chalk: Jocko's Pop & Gas Stop. Wow, a convenience store in the middle of f'in nowhere.

Inside, it was pitch black. The only source of light was a small lamp in the corner of the room, but it had no effect what so ever. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain, surging down my spine that sent me onto the hard floor. The sensation of pain greeted me, like the morning sun had earlier today. From out of the darkness, the figure of a person stepped toward me, kneeling down to grab my hair.

"Give me your caps, or I'll slit your throat and leave you to rot!"

"Caps? What..do you mean by caps?"

I felt another thud and then the overwhelming pain, as my captor introduced their fist to my nose.

"Don't play stupid, sunshine! Give me your f'in caps!"

"I have no idea what you are talking about..."

The person released their grip on me, leaving me to drop onto the floor. In an attempt to get away, I tried crawling toward the door, as my captor grabbed something from a table behind the counter. They walked toward me, as I was holding my neck and crawling to salvation. I heard the familar click of the barrel of a gun, as they stepped towards me. The person grabbed my neck, pulling me to a standing position. They took off their mask, to reveal their green eyes, and the scars of their face. My captor was a woman.

"Welcome to the Capital Wasteland, bitch."

She raised the gun to my temple, and I realised I had to try one last time. I pulled my arm over her's, before connecting with a elbow to her nose. She stumbled backwards, holding her nose, as I grabbed a lawnmower blade, from a shelf nearby. I stumbled forward, before thrusting the blade through her chest and twisting it, to the sound of bones breaking and her breath stop. All I could focus on were her lifeless eyes, tearful, yet dry. She collapsed onto the floor, with a trail of blood down the wall, as her body slipped. I took a deep breath, before reaching down to take her .44 Magnum, holstering it in my pants. The experience was harrowing but I have to do, what I have to do...

 

[Kiko_97]

How will you play this? Just explore and find quests or just do the main quest?

 

[Highlander999]

Who'd have thought woodworm would survive a nuclear holocaust?

:laugh That cracked me up. Very good writing so far mate, especially liking the way you are using informal language to represent your thoughts. Going for an A*?

 

[H0wZ4T!]

"No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted."

"Argh! Get the hell off me!"

The molerat's sharp teeth had bit straight through my trousers, as it dug into my ankle and crunched on the bone. The pain was excruciating, yet I couldn't get it to release its grip on my ankle. I managed to get my hand in my trouser pocket, where I gripped the handle of a Combat Knife. With one motion, I pulled it out from my pocket and slashed the skin of the molerat, feeling it cut through its thin skeleton. The molerat screamed in pain, before I met with a final thrust through the roof of the rat's mouth. I pulled the knife out, now bloody and sticky. However, I came to the realisation, that one of the molerat's teeth was still lodged in my ankle. Dropping to the floor, I gripped the tooth and started to remove it from my now oozing ankle.

"Argh!!!!!!!!! DAMN...."

It was out, but the sensation of pain was now even worse than before. I furiously searched through my pack, scrambling through the ammo for my .44, a couple of darts, a couple of pre-war books and a harmonica, but there was no stimpaks or Med-X.

"Hey?!? You OK over there?"

I turned to find the booming voice, to see it was a tall, scrappy looking man. He came rushing over to me, before dropping to my side and clambering through his bag. He had fine silver hair, conveying his age and wisdom. His eyes were hidden by an antique pair of goggles, along with his dirty navy-blue trench jacket.

"Man, you've had the raiders in here, haven't you?"

He was talking about my ankle, which was still throbbing with pain after my molerat bite.

"Yeah. You got any stimpaks or Med-X I can buy?"

"Buy? No, I'm a doctor. It's my duty to take care of my patients. This is free."

At this point, he stabbed my ankle with a stimpak, before squeezing the chemicals through the tube and into my wound. It made my ankle tingle a bit, but I knew it was for a good cause.

"Thanks for your help. I appreciate it."

"No problem. What'cha doing all the way out here anyway?"

"I've just got to the Wasteland, I actually come from Alabama. I'm looking for the National Archives. I have some business to attend to there."

"The Archives? I'm not the history-loving type of person. In my opinion, history screwed us over."

"Do you know where it is?"

"Yeah, it's in Super-Mutant infested downtown D.C. I'd stay away from there, if I was you."

"Super Mutant?"

"What, don't you get them in Alabama?"

"I wouldn't know. I grew up in a cave. That's why I could use your direction. Please?"

The doctor ran his hand through his hair. He didn't realise my blood was on that hand, so his silver hair was now tinted a crimson red. He sighed, sucked his teeth and got to his feet.

"Keep heading east from here, until you reach the Potomac. Then, find a way to cross it and go into the Metro Stations. The Metro lines are the only way into downtown now. Finally, find the Mall and follow the signposts. But, be careful, there are hundreds of ghouls in the Metro and Super Mutants topside."

"Ghouls? What are they?"

"Trust me, you'll know when you see them. Good luck kid."

"Thank you, truely."

The doctor nodded and ran over the ridge he came from, before pulling a rifle from his bag and shooting at something in the distance. I don't believe in fate, but that has to be a sign. Maybe, I'm going to do this after all...

 

[H0wZ4T!]

How will you play this? Just explore and find quests or just do the main quest?

The main character in this story is not the player from Fallout 3, in fact this takes place about two years before the events of FO3. Don't worry, all will be explained through the course of this 'chapter'.

H0wZ4T! added 3 Minutes and 9 Seconds later...

:laugh That cracked me up. Very good writing so far mate, especially liking the way you are using informal language to represent your thoughts. Going for an A*?

Thanks for the feedback.

And I have been predicted a C, but I think if I get enough writing practice, I can nail the Original Writing coursework. Then, I can try my best for the exam. :/

 

[Highlander999]

Want me to comment on aspects of your writing? (like my B is all that much better then a C lol!!!!)

 

[H0wZ4T!]

Want me to comment on aspects of your writing? (like my B is all that much better then a C lol!!!!)

That would be very useful, thanks a lot.

 

[Dr. Pepper]

Wow! What a fantastic start. The writing is superb and it really draws you in. The detail is fantastic. Awesome story so far. I always wanted to do a story based on Fallout 3 but it would take a lot of time and dedication. You've started really well and it's really interesting so far. There's so much you can talk about as well so you'll never run out of ideas.

 

[H0wZ4T!]

"A happy childhood has spoiled many a promising life."

In all honesty, I wish I had a childhood. Something that I could look back to, something that would bring a smile on my face when I just don't feel like being happy. But, I haven't. Growing up in a completely isolated cavern in northern Alabama has made me the person I am today. And I hate that person. Maybe it was because I was kept safe and sound, unlike the rest of the surviving population who were born with pure anger in their eyes and a baseball bat in their hand. Me? Well, when I made the decision to leave home, I had absolutely no common sense or survival skills. I am an intelligent person, without a doubt. In fact, knowledge is what lured me to the Capital Wasteland. But I was just book smart. Everything else I have used in this journey to the Hell I now call my home is adapted, like how to shoot a gun or how to skin a molerat or how to find a safe place to sleep at night.

Wait a minute? There was a sudden blur on the horizon, as I quickly stopped in my tracks and dropped to one knee. It's important to notice things like that, because if you don't, you are going to be something's meal, whether that something is an animal or a cannibal. I manage to focus my vision to make out the shape of the object in the distance. It was a brown colour and I could make out what appeared to be four legs and a very sharp tail. It was obvious that it was a wild dog, so I pulled my Combat Knife from its holster on my right ankle. Gripping the handle tight in my hand and with the blade facing away from me, I began my hunt of the clueless dog. As I slowly and methodically approached the animal, I was remaining completely quiet and carefully trying not to step on any tin cans or other flotsom-and-jetsom on the ground. Just twenty or thirty feet away, I noticed that the dog was picking at the dismembered corpse of a now-dead wastelander. Poor bastard. However at crucial times like this, there is no time to grieve for a random civilian. You need to stay concentrated yet edgy, because the moment a wild animal senses you, you've got to fight. Now just ten feet away, I take my final preparations before leaping forward and taking an almighty swing with the blade of the knife.

DAMN! The dog had noticed me in mid-leap and managed to get out of the way. It started to growl viciously, it smelt warm blood for the taking. Diving at me, it tried to snap its jaws onto the forearm of my right arm, the arm which held onto my knife. But in one swift movement, I caught the dog in flight with the tip of the Combat Knife, fatally piercing the dog's face. Crashing to the ground, I composed myself before checking the surrounding area. Are they any other dogs? Was it in a pack? I think I am OK this time, as I come to terms with my kill. You see, looking down at the corpse of the now lifeless animal, I don't see a dog. Instead, I am overcome with a savage-like hunger. There is a rumble in my stomach. My severe lack of nourishment for the past two days creeps up to me, like I had to the dog just minutes ago. At this point, I have just one clear and resounding thought running through my head. Dinnertime...

H0wZ4T! added 3 Minutes and 40 Seconds later...

Wow! What a fantastic start. The writing is superb and it really draws you in. The detail is fantastic. Awesome story so far. I always wanted to do a story based on Fallout 3 but it would take a lot of time and dedication. You've started really well and it's really interesting so far. There's so much you can talk about as well so you'll never run out of ideas.

Thank you very much, I appreciate the glowing review and you raise a good point about the game. There are so many locations, characters and factions, I could use any one of those and turn it into a chapter or two, which is why I think FO3 is the perfect way to write a long and unique story.

 

[AbhishekS]

Going nice!
But I guess you must use some images as well with the writings.

 

[H0wZ4T!]

Going nice!
But I guess you must use some images as well with the writings.

I can include some images, but they will be quite generic because I have the game on PS3, not PC. So, I will just find some related screenshots from the Internet.

 

[H0wZ4T!]

"We can draw lessons from the past, but we cannot live in it."

The combination of the dog's crunchy, yet greasy skin and warm, tender meat, roasted on an open fire, was a truely brilliant meal, which filled quite the hole in my stomach. The Capital Wasteland has taught me to appreciate the smallest things in life, such as the simple effects of hot food on the body: refreshing and comfortable. As I let these effects take over, I laid back onto the dusty ground, resting my head against the base of a distorted and bare tree. I can only imagine what trees used to look like. Lush, thick, green leaves in a field of long grass, swaying in the gentle summer breeze. A formation of birds would fly overhead, singing their beautiful, natural songs, their outlines silhouetted by the bright and pure sun that is burning in the sky. The image in my head puts me at peace, but my thoughts are interrupted by a sharp flurry of dust and stone, blowing across my face and brushing my eyes as they past. In an attempt to settle my eyes, I have to blink several times as the warm feeling of a summer goes. Once again, I am left cold and depressed, looking down on the grey surroundings of this ruined earth. Everywhere I look in this world I see the same things. Hollow reminders of life before the Great War, like the wooden foundations of houses, slowly degrading into nothing as a result of the harsh winter weather.

I start to feel quite sleepy, so I close my eyes and begin to fall into a state of slumber. You know, when times are really bad and it seems like I am not going to make it, I pray that I am attacked by something or someone in the night. That way, I won't feel a thing and I can finally rest. But then, I wake up and keep going. Why? I haven't hit rock bottom. Life is still worth living. It just takes a while to realise that. Falling further and further into sleep, the shining light of the moon is comforting, as I know that as long as the moon exists, it will never be dark on Earth... God, that was cheesy. My thoughts are getting weird. I need sleep...

... BANG! Loud noises startle me, as I instantly wake from my sleep and clutch my .44 Magnum from its holster on my left side. Grabbing my pack from next to me, I crawl on the ground to a nearby rock for cover. The noises appear to be coming from in front of me, so I slowly lift my head above and have a look at what is happening. It's a road for starters. And... Oh. Damn. This is going to be very difficult...

(Sorry about the small update, its meant to set up the next one which will be a lot longer.)

 

[Covvy]

Loving this story so far, this one's unique.