AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey there! Welcome to my first attempt at really writing something. I'm pretty new to writing dialogue, so if you see any mistakes within the story (especially in grammar or punctuation) feel free to message me. When and if I get any better at this I may republish this story, who knows. My goal is to put out a chapter at least once a week, and I'm also going to really try to commit to this because I absolutely hate unfinished Fics. I also want to stay as cannon as possible (with my own little twists for the Courier ) so give me a few chapters to build up the story. Reviews appreciated, hate accepted but hurts me on the inside, so be careful with my sensitive soul. Thanks for reading! :D

EDIT- Fixing an inconsistency for this chapter. Forgot that the delivery note explains the content of the package. Ma Bad.

Chapter 1- The Hand You've Been Dealt

The first thing she noticed when she came to was the sound of a shovel hitting dirt. Dazed and confused, it took her a few moments to realize that she wasn't alone. An angry voice came into focus.

"You got what you were after, so pay up!"

"You're crying in the rain, pal-y."

Her heart skipped a beat. 'Oh God' she thought, suddenly remembering. Walking through that small town, being jumped out of nowhere. Held down and knocked out with a lead pipe. The package.

The Courier struggled to her knees, noticing that her hands and feet were bound. She stopped to test the bindings for a moment. Yep, too tight. Shit.

"Hey, guess who's waking up over here…"

A wave of fear washed through her, but she'd be damned if she wasn't going to look her captors in the eye. She rose her head to face them.

The man who had knocked her out wore an ugly black and white checkered suit. With him were two Khan members; guns for hire, she guessed. Checkers took a long drag of his cigarette before throwing it into the dirt. "Time to cash out."

'Oh great' she thought. 'I'm about to be killed by some asshole with the worst fashion sense in the wasteland.'

"Would you get it over with already?" One of the thugs complained. Checkers held up his finger.

"Maybe the Khans kill people without looking them in the face, but I ain't a fink, dig?" He turned to her.

"You've made your last delivery kid. Sorry you got twisted up in this scene."

He reached into his coat and pulled out a platinum chip, her chip. Before she even had the chance to wonder about it's significance, the man replaced it with a beautiful and expensive looking hand gun. Her blood went cold.

"From where you're keeling it must seem like an 18 karat run of bad luck…."

'It was just a job', she wanted to scream at him. She wanted to yell for help, beg- anything to get herself out of this. But her voice was lost, along with her hope, and all she could do was stare into his cruel eyes as he said the last words that she would probably ever hear. He aimed his gun at her head.

"Truth is…", he said.

"The game was rigged from the start."

A loud boom, a flash of light. Then darkness.