Fallout: WarMonger
The Man and The Raider
The Man who looked much younger than his actual age stared down the barrel of a shotgun with nothing but a cold, dead look in his eyes. Only a handful of years ago, this very same Man would be afraid beyond words. Now, fear was gone. He had completely forgotten this emotion.
The man with the shotgun stammered. "You gimme' everything' you got! Or I'll-"
"Do what? Shoot me? Really?" the Man asked.
"Uh, yeah. I'mma gonna shoot ya!" the Raider replied.
The Man scoffed. "Son, I emerged from an underground Vault five years with no prior knowledge of this world. I hunted the man who murdered my wife and took my son and I personally blew his goddamn face off with his own gun. Then, I toppled a technological empire, sacrificing everything I cared about. Now, ask yourself, do you really want to threaten me?"
The Raider glanced down at the weapon he help. The Man didn't hesitate. Lunging forward, he grabbed the barrel of the shotgun and forced it upward. The shotgun went off. The Man's eyes leveled as he and the Raider came face to face.
The Raider's dark tanned face went pale with fear. The Man grinned. Without a word, the feeling of a finely polished blade slithering into his gut reached the Raider's nervous center and then his brain. With a groan and a spurtle of blood, the Raider fell to the dusty ground beneath the Man.
The Man kneeled and felt through the pockets of the Raider's leather jacket. "You didn't have an extra shell? You stupid fuck." the Man snarled.
The Man stood up and kicked the corpse in the head, dislocating the jaw with a fresh spray of blood.
"Blue!" a voice called from a distant ridge.
Blue turned to see who the voice belonged to. Sure enough, it was Piper. Blue's only company on the road besides Dogmeat, Blue's trusted canine friend. Piper slid down the hill with Dogmeat in tow, barking happily. When she reached the bottom, she took off at a jog to meet Blue.
"Find anything?" Piper asked.
Blue sighed. "This jack-off had nothing." he said.
"Damn." Piper muttered.
Blue turned and scanned the horizon, nothing. The only thing worse than the innumerable abundance of bugs in the Mojave Wasteland was the scorching sun. Blue knew what it was like before the bombs fell. He had been stationed outside of Las Vegas for a time before being shipped off to fight a war he didn't care about.
"Blue, your wandering again." Piper said.
Blue turned back to Piper and Dogmeat and realized he had been walking away absent mindedly. He'd been doing that for a decade when his train of thought became rampant.
"Come on, Blue. Let's find a place to hunker down for the night." Piper said.
Blue. She was the only one who ever called him Blue. People back home called him "Stranger," "Man Outta Time," "General," "Murderer," "Fiend," "Friend." But never Blue, only Piper called him that. He had long since discarded his blue and yellow Vault 111 jumpsuit, but the nickname stuck and Piper never let things go.
Blue took a step towards Piper and brushed a lock of brown hair from her eyes. "Yeah, good call."
Piper smiled.
Dogmeat barked at the sign of affection from Blue. Blue smiled and patted Dogmeat on the head.
"Good boy, Dogmeat." he said.
Dogmeat barked his approval and Blue smiled again. He had never had an interest in dogs, not until he met good ol' Dogmeat. Dogmeat had saved his life on his first day outside of Vault 111. He's been following Blue ever since. Now, Dogmeat's fur was lined with subtle hints of grey, the aging dog was beginning to show his years in the harsh environment of the Commonwealth and the Mojave.
Piper; however, was a different story. She was a journalist Blue had met in Diamond City. An old stadium in Boston renovated into a major settlement in the Commonwealth. She had asked for a quote about his thoughts, emerging from a Vault and into this world.
He had lied of course. He told her the sight of these settlements gave Blue hope. In reality they filled him with fear, it was only a matter of time before they'd all kill each other out of paranoia. Eventually, Blue had convinced her, or she convinced him to go along with him on his journeys.
In the years past, they'd grown close to the point where they didn't need two mattresses or bedrolls when camping. Blue had reconciled in her how much she reminded him of Nora, Blue's love from before the bombs.
In the back of his mind, Blue could hear Piper call out a shack on the horizon. Instinctually, Blue drew his revolver, formerly owned by a certain man named Kellogg.
In this world, you needed to be ready for anything. Even if it meant taking an innocent life.