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Guest
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Well this is the third chapter it has a depressing ending but oh well...
The pain in John’s right foot seemed to be ebbing away. According to his map, which now had a large bloodstain on it, John was not far from the Boneyard. He wondered why the raiders he had just killed where wearing metal armor when most raiders he had seen wore leather armor. John then had to remind himself that he didn’t need to worry about the choice armor of raiders but, still it hung at the back of his head like the 14mm round he had placed in one of what he thought was a raider.
The truth behind what happened was that he had killed off a scouting unit of the regulators. If John had not killed them, the regulator company that had been following the scouts would have dispatched the mutant squad that later killed the followers of the apocalypse. It seemed that once again John’s actions had caused the death of hundreds of innocent people.
John made it to the boneyard late in the afternoon the sun slowly setting in the west changing the clouds into a cornucopia of color red, blue, purple and yellow. As he neared the walls of a small village he heard blasts of shotguns, screams of people dying, and the noise of laser rifles charging accompanied by the bone chilling sounds of flesh melting. His instinct told him to stay back but his curiosity got the best of him and he crawled towards the front gate being careful not to hurt his right foot.
When he at last reached the entrance to the town he saw a man wearing a steel cocoon being flanked by several people wearing armor similar to John’s. They where wielding weapons of all shapes and sizes. At this point John decided that desecration was the better part of valor and stayed behind the gate. John began to doubt that this was the boneyard when he saw a sign that said Adytum. A stray bullet from the fight going on inside the town hit him in the back where he had removed an armor plate.
The agony of the impact shot up his nerves faster than the bullet had entered his skin. John collapsed, quickly he reached back and using his right, gloved hand removed the 10mm AP round from his spinal column. With his left he searched his backpack frantically searching for one of the stimpacks he had taken from the caravan. Using speed that could only be reached by the adrenaline running through his veins and perhaps Psycho John violently forced a stimpack into his skin. The mixture of synthetic healing chemicals and natural herbs flew through his blood plasma quickly healing the wound caused by the bullet.
With his energy gone John closed his eyes and prayed that he wouldn’t die from anymore stray rounds. When he at last woke he found himself in a tent with a man in what appeared to be a white robes looking at him with a concerned look on his face. He tried to get up but then found that his legs were not working. The events of the last night fell together like dominoes as he figured out that the bullet had broken his spinal cord and that he would never walk again.
“Yes I can see you know it now.” Said the robed figure with what seemed to be and educated voice.
“Will I ever walk again?” Asked John dreading the answer.
“I don’t think so sir. At least you can put this back on your armor.” The robed man said as he handed back the armor plate that John had been using as a splint.
John laid back on the uncomfortable cot that was probably now his permanent bed. “Will I ever be able to move around doc?”
“Well we are working on getting you a wheel chair from the Brotherhood.” The doctor said but John knew that the Brotherhood had better things to do than provide some cripple with a wheelchair, whatever that was.
Maybe it’s for the best if I can’t move. Thought John as he rolled his torso over on the bed trying to find a softer area on the cot. It means I can’t kill another city. With that final insight John lapsed into sleep.
John awoke to the chatter of what sounded like teeth. He thought that he should ask for another blanket when he heard the shouts of people yelling about an invasion. The chattering came again, this time John came to the realization that it was the racket of a minigun, spewing its 5.56mm bullets from its six mouths. This time John decided that he would just accept fate and lie here, not that he could do anything else with his paralyzed lower body.
From the doorway of his tent John saw a flashlight. “HEY can you help me out of here?”
John’s eyes went wide with fear as the light took the form of a mushroom. All John could do was scream, as every molecule in his body was ripped apart by the nuclear explosion.
Later the events that had happened due to John’s actions were documented as happening due to the Vault Dwellers decisions. This seemed to be the final twist that fate played on John the fate bringer.
There is an alternate ending if you guys and galls want to see that one, just say so.
The pain in John’s right foot seemed to be ebbing away. According to his map, which now had a large bloodstain on it, John was not far from the Boneyard. He wondered why the raiders he had just killed where wearing metal armor when most raiders he had seen wore leather armor. John then had to remind himself that he didn’t need to worry about the choice armor of raiders but, still it hung at the back of his head like the 14mm round he had placed in one of what he thought was a raider.
The truth behind what happened was that he had killed off a scouting unit of the regulators. If John had not killed them, the regulator company that had been following the scouts would have dispatched the mutant squad that later killed the followers of the apocalypse. It seemed that once again John’s actions had caused the death of hundreds of innocent people.
John made it to the boneyard late in the afternoon the sun slowly setting in the west changing the clouds into a cornucopia of color red, blue, purple and yellow. As he neared the walls of a small village he heard blasts of shotguns, screams of people dying, and the noise of laser rifles charging accompanied by the bone chilling sounds of flesh melting. His instinct told him to stay back but his curiosity got the best of him and he crawled towards the front gate being careful not to hurt his right foot.
When he at last reached the entrance to the town he saw a man wearing a steel cocoon being flanked by several people wearing armor similar to John’s. They where wielding weapons of all shapes and sizes. At this point John decided that desecration was the better part of valor and stayed behind the gate. John began to doubt that this was the boneyard when he saw a sign that said Adytum. A stray bullet from the fight going on inside the town hit him in the back where he had removed an armor plate.
The agony of the impact shot up his nerves faster than the bullet had entered his skin. John collapsed, quickly he reached back and using his right, gloved hand removed the 10mm AP round from his spinal column. With his left he searched his backpack frantically searching for one of the stimpacks he had taken from the caravan. Using speed that could only be reached by the adrenaline running through his veins and perhaps Psycho John violently forced a stimpack into his skin. The mixture of synthetic healing chemicals and natural herbs flew through his blood plasma quickly healing the wound caused by the bullet.
With his energy gone John closed his eyes and prayed that he wouldn’t die from anymore stray rounds. When he at last woke he found himself in a tent with a man in what appeared to be a white robes looking at him with a concerned look on his face. He tried to get up but then found that his legs were not working. The events of the last night fell together like dominoes as he figured out that the bullet had broken his spinal cord and that he would never walk again.
“Yes I can see you know it now.” Said the robed figure with what seemed to be and educated voice.
“Will I ever walk again?” Asked John dreading the answer.
“I don’t think so sir. At least you can put this back on your armor.” The robed man said as he handed back the armor plate that John had been using as a splint.
John laid back on the uncomfortable cot that was probably now his permanent bed. “Will I ever be able to move around doc?”
“Well we are working on getting you a wheel chair from the Brotherhood.” The doctor said but John knew that the Brotherhood had better things to do than provide some cripple with a wheelchair, whatever that was.
Maybe it’s for the best if I can’t move. Thought John as he rolled his torso over on the bed trying to find a softer area on the cot. It means I can’t kill another city. With that final insight John lapsed into sleep.
John awoke to the chatter of what sounded like teeth. He thought that he should ask for another blanket when he heard the shouts of people yelling about an invasion. The chattering came again, this time John came to the realization that it was the racket of a minigun, spewing its 5.56mm bullets from its six mouths. This time John decided that he would just accept fate and lie here, not that he could do anything else with his paralyzed lower body.
From the doorway of his tent John saw a flashlight. “HEY can you help me out of here?”
John’s eyes went wide with fear as the light took the form of a mushroom. All John could do was scream, as every molecule in his body was ripped apart by the nuclear explosion.
Later the events that had happened due to John’s actions were documented as happening due to the Vault Dwellers decisions. This seemed to be the final twist that fate played on John the fate bringer.
There is an alternate ending if you guys and galls want to see that one, just say so.
