Hugh Glass was an interesting person, to say the least. Standing at the height of six feet and three inches, and built like an Ox, he truly was a sight to behold. A mop of messy brown hair rested atop his head… Or at least the right half of his. The left half of his body was covered in nothing but scar tissue.
When hugh was thirteen, he was scavenging the Vegas ruins with his Father and Brother. While they were clearing out a small department store, the young Hugh Glass moved to the manager's office, hoping to find scrap to salvage, food, or a weapon. The door, however, was booby trapped with a gas bomb. When he opened the door, the bomb detonated, and Hugh's left side was consumed in a miniature inferno. Hugh barely survived, his body was permanently scarred however, and his left eye was completely destroyed, leaving him with only one green orb to guide him through life.
This was not the last debilitating injury he would suffer. At the age of fifteen, Hugh stepped on a bear trap while hunting. The rusty old trap sliced through the flesh of his right ankle, and snapped the bone beneath in two. He released a cry of pain as he collapsed to the ground, a mistake that nearly cost him his life on that day.
His scream attracted the attention of the Mojave's, and maybe even the world's, deadliest predator: The Tunneler. A humanoid shaped creature that was covered in pitch black scales and sprinted on all fours after its prey. Each one of these creatures was more than capable of killing even the best equipped soldiers. Hugh, unfortunately, was not a well equipped soldier. And even worse, Tunnelers traveled in packs.
Hearing the pitter patter of the creature's claws, Hugh knew that the hunter, had become the hunted. He pried the teeth of the trap loose, and ran as fast one could with only one good leg. He managed to make it to the city that was once called Primm. While he managed to get away from the Tunnelers, the city was no safe haven.
He was captured by a large group of cannibalistic slavers. For three months, he faced constant torture at their hands. Their brutal treatment of Hugh caused his ankle to heal improperly, forcing him to spend the rest of his life with a limp. Fortunately for Hugh, a group of tribals attacked Primm, allowing him to escape.
Three months later, two men tried to kill him over nothing more than a can of beans. His only weapon at the time was a grenade launcher made out of spare parts, and they cornered him in a room the was less than twelve feet wide. Hugh got lucky on that day, for when he fired his grenade launcher, the only injury he received was a gash that stretched from the center of his right eyebrow, to just above his right ear. That was a year and a half ago.
In the the year and a half that followed, Hugh searched for a way out of the hellhole known as the Mojave Wasteland. His journey led him north, to Zion. He had heard rumors from the few people in the wastes that didn't kill everything they saw on site, that Zion was a paradise. Those rumors couldn't be farther from the truth.
Zion, was in fact worse than the Mojave. Dense fog prevented the already half blind Glass from seeing more than a few feet in front of him. Vicious mutants known as Spore Carriers lurked behind the veil, waiting for unsuspecting prey to wander close. The Spore Carriers we similiar to the Tunnelers of the Mojave. The only real difference between them, was aesthetic. Instead of scales, they were covered in what seemed to be plants.
And they don't even compare to the worst of Zion's monstrosities. Moving with blinding speed and unparalleled aggression, was the mighty Wendigo. The monster was, in a different life, an equally terrifying man. The Malpais Legate. The Burned Man. Joshua Graham. These were all names the beast went by twenty years ago. When the man died, the spores that created the Spore Carriers, transformed him into the monstrous Wendigo.
The Wendigo was almost unstoppable. Its only weakness was its fear of fire. The very phase of matter that had crippled Joshua Graham, was also the thing that cripple his second coming. Glass would have died at the Wendigo hands if it were not for the flare gun he found weeks prior.
While he could ward off the Wendigo, his number of flares was finite. He needed a way out of Zion. And the NCR held the keys to the only exit.
Ten years prior, the NCR had sent an expeditionary force to Zion. They met heavy resistance from surviving tribals, not to mention the Spore Carriers. The survivors of the group decided to hold up in the easy to defend Narrows. Their Captain, through unknown means, obtained the only key to Zion's only exit: The Long Dark.
An assault would have been suicidal, so Glass went with the next best option. He lured the Wendigo and its brethren to them. It was rather easy, in fact. It only took six fragmentation grenades and a week's worth of meat. The beasts swarmed into the Narrows, and in the ensuing chaos, he snuck in and stole the key off the Captain's corpse. Then it was off to the Long Dark.
It certainly did live up to its name. Hugh had to march through hundreds of different corridors, each one miles long, all without the assistance of light. Even worse, most of the tunnels were boobey trapped. Eventually, he found a hole in a wall that lead to the interior of a vault.
The vault was incredibly creepy, filled with nothing more than piles of skeletons, and a single jukebox that only ever played Begin Again by Vera Keyes. Hugh thought he had finally lost his mind. Never before in his life, not even before his leg was broken, did he run so fast. After sprinting out of the Vault's entrance, only a metal door stood between him and the outside world.
When he burst through the door, he was greeted with sunshine, and a forty four round to the gut. Snipers had been ordered to guard the door, so as to prevent intruders from entering the Divide. If it weren't for the large number of chems that Hugh carried with him, he would have died.
A quick injection of a cocktail of different stimulants, Hugh fought through the pain, and killed his attackers. He fought his way from the great overpass known as the High Road, to the ruins of Hopeville, killing everything that got in his way. The great Deathclaw tamers, the powerful Marked Men, and the vicious Stone Molder tribals all attempted to end him… but in the end, all their effort was in vain. Rage and Drugs kept him alive through everything they threw at him.
The fact that the path ended at the Mojave, only increased his rage. However, the journals of a man called Ulysses told him of a place called the Big Empty, and the location of a train tunnel that lead to the place, served as a calming factor for him. Flash forward six months, and now he stands in the Big Empty.
It was not what he expected it to be. The Big Empty was supposed to be a dry, rocky research facility. Instead, Hugh found a half flooded crater that was the sight of an all out war between a group tech scavengers, and the Brotherhood of Steel. Hugh was stuck right in the middle of it, searching for a piece of technology known as the Transportalponder. According to the files he'd uncovered, it was capable of taking him somewhere safe.
-0-
Hugh was hunting. What you might ask? Tech Scavers. He was hunting them for one simple reason: Their leader, had procured the Transportalponder. Hugh wanted, no, needed that device, and based on past hostilities the group had shown him, he knew that talking was out of the question. Not that he would have been able to talk them into giving him the device anyways.
Unbeknownst to the Tech Scavers, they were leading him straight back to their base of operations. They wouldn't have been able to find him even if they were aware that they were being stalked. A surprising feat given Hugh's choice of attire.
The absolute brute of a man was wearing a full set of rusty metal armor, styled after the Ancient Roman armors. Not that Hugh knew that. He just thought of it as a good set of armor that protected him from smaller calibers and hollow point rounds. Atop his head was a military style gas mask with a World War Two style helmet. Though, the helmet was slightly modified. A large blade sat on the forehead of the helmet at a forty five degree angle, allowing it to be used for headbutts, and charges. The helmet had belonged to his Father, and the armor once belong to one of the denizens of the Divide.
The large, heavy outfit and limp would have been detrimental to stealth for most people, but Hugh Glass was far from most people. He had been raised by a former assassin after all, And right now, that fact was playing in his favor. He followed the Scavers like a ghost in the night. The anticipation was killing him. He couldn't wait to tear them to shreds.
After what felt like hours, they finally led him back to their base. It seemed the old saying "If you want honey, follow the bees," was true. Not that Hugh knew what bees or honey were. There base could hardly be called such, as it was little more than an unflooded medical facility. On the cliffs behind it, was an obvious snipers post.
He snuck up on the sniper with ease. He took out his hatchet, and slammed it into the leather clad sniper. His hatchet was one of the few weapons he carried. The others included a flare gun that was strapped across his chest, a twelve point seven millimeter pistol on his hip, a combat knife hidden beneath one of his spiked shoulder pads, and a pump action twelve gauge on his back.
He decided that the sniper's post would be a good place to scout from. He examined their defenses. One entrance, two guards, no cameras. It may of sounded easy, but that was far from the truth.
One of them was wearing a full suit of green combat armor, and had an assault carbine. Hugh had no idea how much ammo he had. The other one, who was standing to the left of the first, was wearing nothing more than a red jumpsuit, and a pair of cracked sunglasses. His weapon was far more deadly than the assault carbine. He was wielding a plasma rifle.
Hugh had a hatred of energy weapons. Ammo was nigh impossible to find in the wastes, they were incredibly messy, spare parts were difficult to come across, and, as Hugh had learned the hard way, they have a tendency to explode in the user's hands when damaged.
Hugh approached the one with the carbine from the right. In one swift motion he raised his hatchet into the air, and slammed it into the man's neck. He released his grasp from the weapon, angled his body so the it was parallel with the ground, and charged the man that held the plasma rifle. The man with the plasma rifle turned towards his now dead companion, and before he could register what was happening, the blade atop Hugh's head sunk to his gut.
Hugh violently jerked his head and body upwards, disemboweling his opponent. The man, dropped his rifle, stepped back a few paces, and made a sorry attempt to hold his intestines inside his abdomen. Hugh reared his right fist back, and slammed it into the man, knocking him unconscious.
The door behind Hugh slid open and a woman wearing a tanktop, jeans, and a pair combat boots emerged from the facility. In less then a second, Hugh unholstered his pistol, aimed it at the woman's chest, and pull the trigger. A single twelve point seven round tore through her chest. Bits of flesh and bone exploded out of the back of her body. Her lifeless corpse dropped to the ground. Blood pooled beneath her body.
Hugh retrieved his his hatchet, and pulled out his shotgun, knowing that the long arduous process of fighting his way through the base had just begun. He entered the base weapon at the ready. No guards were located directly inside the entrance. Only one thought entered his mind, "They either pulled back, or, more likely, they're undermanned."
Directly to his right, was a set of stairs that lead down into the base. He knew that there were at least three more Scavers here other then the Commander. He swiftly moved down the stairs and was immediately met with a corridor made of concrete that went two ways. On his left, was a set of stairs that were flooded. On the right, was a right corner. Hugh went with the right corner on his right, after all, that had to be the right way.
He turned the corner, and was immediately met with with a hail of gun and laser fire. One of the beams slammed into his left arm. Hugh let out a hiss, and ducked back behind the corner. The stream of fire seemed to never end. Round after round impacted the concrete wall, kicking up a cloud of dust that flooded the space where he was.
The angry words of one of the assailants screamed "Hold your fire! I said Hold your fire! Stop shooting you fucking morons!" With that, the symphony of weapons fire ended. "Christ almighty, do you idiots have any idea how much ammo you just wasted!? The boss is gonna tear off our balls! Fuck! That wasn't even a Brotherhood member!" The voice ranted.
Hugh peered around the corner, equipping his flare gun, and took aim. The one that was ranting was wearing green army fatigues, and was grabbing the one in the vault suit with a carbine by his collar. Another was standing behind them, and was wearing a trenchcoat. In his arms was a laser RCW, and tommy gun style laser weapon.
Hugh pulled the trigger. The flare flew forward, and impacted Vault suit in the side of the neck. Flames lept from the flare, and caught Fatigue's sleeve on fire. Fatigues let out a scream of terror. Hugh holstered his flare gun, and aimed his shotgun. His first target was Trenchcoat, who had recoiled in fear. A blast of buckshot tore through Trenchcoat's right lung, shoulder, and throat. A second blast tore through his belly, eviscerating his digestive system. A third blast was directed at Fatigue's chest ripped the man apart.
Hugh approached the carnage he had created. Trenchcoat was still alive, but barely. Hugh pressed the barrel of the shotgun to the man's head, and pulled the trigger. With a loud bang, Trenchcoat's brains and skull were splattered all over the floor.
Hugh walked up to what the three were guarding. It was a door, plane and simple. No doubt leading to their leader, and Hugh's objective. Hugh prepared himself for whatever might be waiting on the other side of the door.
The door slide open, revealing a rather messy office. Papers were scattered over the ground, bits and best of technology were laying all over the place. In the center of the room was a desk, and on it was the Transportalponder. Behind the desk stood the Tech Scavers' leader. She was a short woman who wore a red vest, tan slacks, and a pair of black goggles. In her hand was a plasma pistol. She fired a single shot at Hugh that slammed into his breastplate, melting the outer layer of it.
Hugh responded with a shotgun blast aimed at her midsection that sent her flying back into the wall behind her. He marched forward towards the table. His hand reached out towards his prize, the Transportalponder. Hugh cradled the small glowing device for a few seconds, and let out an exasperated sigh. His nightmare might finally be over.
He pulled the trigger on the device, just as the dying leader of the Tech Scavers fire one last shot from her weapon. The bolt of plasma impacted the Transportalponder, damaging the device. It still managed to serve its purpose however, and teleported Hugh to God knows where. Though She didn't know that, in her eyes, she just disintegrated the bastard that killed her.
-0-
The process of teleportation render Hugh unconscious. When he awoke, he witnessed a sight he had never seen before. Greenery. Living breathing plants… that weren't spitting acid at him. He removed his mask and helmet, and smiled. For the first time in his life, he was truly happy. He had found paradise, he had found salvation.
Or so he thought. A growl from some unknown beast emanated from behind him. He barely managed to duck in time to avoid its attack. It sailed over him. The beast looked like some sort of disfigured Yao Gui. Gone was the rotten flesh, instead it had thick black skin that covered it entirely. Its back and head were covered in thick white armor. Spikes of the same color extended out of its back, and a pair of glowing red eyes store back into his green eye.
He only had one shot left in his shotgun, so he switched to his pistol. He released a storm of twelve point seven rounds directed at its chest. Though the rounds tore through its chest, his actions seemed to do nothing but anger the creature, for its only response was a defiant roar. It swung its claws at him once more, but he managed to roll out of the way.
The creature charged him, and should-checked him into a nearby tree. It moved to bite his head off. He moved to grab his knife from beneath his left shoulder pauldron and slash its throat. He was faster. His blade tore through its jugular, spilling black blood onto Hugh's chest.
It recoiled out of pain, and collapsed to the ground. Hugh would have moved to skin it, but its body began to evaporate into smoke. He let out a grunt of disappointment. A creature that size would have kept him well fed for weeks. He retrieved his mask and helmet, opting to put them back on. He then reloaded his weapons, picked a direction, and started walking.
-0-
High atop a massive tower in the center of a castle like location, was the office of one Professor Ozpin. The ceiling of the office was a series of moving gears that let of a constant clicking noise akin to that of a grandfather clock. There was only two pieces of furniture in the whole office. A desk and a chair, both of which were located by a large glass window the gave Ozpin an excellent view of the nearby city of Vale.
Ozpin was an enigmatic man known for three things. His wisdom, his combat prowess, and his love of coffee. Gray hair stood atop his head a sign of his age, and his typical attire consisted of a green jacket, green pants, and a pair of round spectacles.
Ozpin was currently standing by the window, in his hands was a small device that gave him a live video feed of Hugh's battle with the Ursa. Ozpin had been watching the boy since he appeared, and had become intrigued immediately. His curiosity turned to a sense horror once the boy removed his strange mask. Ozpin had expected him to be some old weary warrior, not a horribly scarred teenage boy.
"What nightmares have you witnessed?" Ozpin asked to no one in particular. Elevator doors at the opposite end of the opened, and a woman stepped through. She was a blond forty something year old professor with an interesting choice of dress wear: Black Stockings, Black skirt, high heels, black corset, and a white top with a purple cape. Ozpin turned to the woman and calmly said, "Glynda, I need you to do something for me."