NOTE: This is not based off of Fallout Tactics. I may make some references to it, but everything else I'm doing on my own. Also, I did not make Fallout.

They call me by many names. The Slasher, The Shotgun Surgeon, The Hunter, The Masquerader, No Name, Rad Child, The Fortune Finder, The Gunslinger, and many more. I earned all of them through hard work, surviving the Midwestern Wasteland. It wasn't easy; this place is a hell-hole. Pirates, Super mutants, hell, even those Brotherhood bastards running everywhere. I'm going to tell you my story, but I'm not sure you're going to like it much.

I was born in a small village right around the Joliet Area. They say it was one big city before the Great War. Not as big as Chicago of course, but still a city. After the war, the Joliet Area was settled by survivors who came from abandoned vaults. Now it's a huge community. It's filled with villages, towns and trading posts. It's a regular spot for Mutants and Pirates. My village was attacked by pirates. It was burned to the ground, and raided for the few supplies we had. Excuse me; you probably haven't heard the term pirates before. Let me explain. You've probably heard of raiders before. They're just like raiders, only there are two things that make them important. One, they're a bunch of rednecks who get all hopped up on alcohol then raid everything because they're drunk. Two, they only raid by bodies of water and highways. The reason is they're cowards who only feel safe traveling in vehicles. Either they all get a steamboat then go looking for stuff to raid on the rivers, or they grab their bikes and travel on the highway. You'll usually find them in groups of ten, so if you're just getting started with surviving you better hope you run into a group of drunks who wandered out of Pirate Town. Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself here.

When the village was attacked by the pirates, they killed everything they could find. Dogs, cats, even people. Only a few people escaped with their lives, I was one of them. I lost my memory… They say that the brain copes with traumatic situations by forgetting. I forgot my entire life. I was found by an old couple in a ditch beside the river. I was about 8. They were hermits who hated other people because of their corrupted ways of life. They took me in and taught me the ways of purity, and being a good kid. They taught me only to fight for self defense. I at least managed to hold on to the last one. If they could see me now… Pa would have a heart attack.

They always told me to call them Pa and Ma even though they weren't actually my biological parents. I always thought it was comforting to have parental figures to protect me and guide me. Better than those orphans who are stuck living on their own…

Eventually, it was time for me to head out. They said that they couldn't afford to keep me any longer, I was getting too big. The Brahmin couldn't reproduce fast enough to keep me fed. It broke their hearts… I know it did. To see their only kid walking off into the horizon armed with only a Pistol and an open heart. They gave me enough rations to last a couple days; I would have to find more food on my own.

I walked down Highway 80 hoping to find a nearby settlement where I could get some rations, some clothes, maybe a new gun. Big mistake. I didn't know much about Pirates back then, only that they were the reason I ended up with Ma and Pa. They surrounded me, beat me down and took half my rations. The only reason they didn't take the other half was that I had them hidden under my coat, same place where I hid my pistol. Hell, I'm lucky they didn't take that either.

I trudged onward, exhausted because of the beating and depressed too. I kept arguing with myself that I should have pulled out my pistol and killed all of them, but I also thought that if I did that they surely would've killed me. I eventually decided that the next time I get jumped by some pirates that there's no way they're taking my stuff again without a fight. I eventually came across a group of tents. They seemed abandoned, so I took a peek inside. There were some dead wastelanders, some of them were in gore bags. I didn't really know about that at the time though, so I just thought they were some more people who ran across the Pirates. I remembered what Ma and Pa told me, that I should leave corpses alone. I probably would've followed their instructions, but I was starving. I'd already eaten up my rations. I searched the bodies and found some strange looking stuff. There was a box of food that had "Iguana Bits" written on it, and something that looked like what Ma and Pa said were chems. They told me chems will get you addicted then kill you from the inside. I threw those away, then looked through some boxes. In the boxes I found some ammunition for my pistol. I figured I'd probably need the bullets, so I took them. I ate the iguana bits, but I was still hungry.

I was just leaving the tents when I heard an extremely low voice. Whoever said it was slurring like crazy. It sounded like "Thert waz some real good hewman. Let's go luk fer some more in the mornin'." I scrambled back into the tent hoping whoever said that didn't see me. I had my pistol ready in case they came in. A yellow hand grasped the flap and opened the tent. I saw what looked like a person, but it was yellow and much taller. Its eyes were bulging, and I could see its veins pulsing with blood. It yelled "Hewman!" then pulled out what looked like a rifle Pa used to use for hunting. It fired at me but missed and hit the ground. I closed my eyes and desperately emptied out my clip. All of them went into the yellow person's head who then collapsed. I heard a similar voice yell out from behind it.

"Yew killed Kennie, yew basterd!" Another yellow person came into the tent and started firing at me with the same sort of rifle. One of the bullets grazed my side, but I quickly pulled out another mag and shot the yellow person until it died. It fired out some more shots before I killed it, but none of them hit me. I gasped because I started to feel the pain from the bullet. I walked out of the tent and saw a med-kit on the ground I didn't notice before. I opened it up and took out some bandages. I wrapped it around the wound then I headed on out.

I was exhausted, and I would have started hallucinating if I didn't see what used to be a shopping center up ahead. I cried out in happiness and ran up to the small buildings. A wastelander saw me and noticed the bandage around my ribs. He asked if I was alright and I told him that it was fine and that I got it from being attacked by yellow people. "Yellow People!" He cried in shock. "Do you mean Super Mutants? Damn kid, you're lucky to be alive!"

"Super Mutants? What are those?"

"Where have you been, candy land?" The wastelander asked sarcastically, "They're only the most dangerous thing out there besides pirates. They're some failed experiment, I've got no idea whether it was genetic or if it used radiation."

"I think I was attacked by pirates too."

"Alright kid, either you're superhuman or you're just insane." The wastelander said. "We'd better get you into the diner, follow me." He took me into an old restaurant where he went up to the lady at the counter.

"Dana, this kid just took on some pirates and super mutants."

"What?" the lady at the counter asked, "Bill, are you drunk? How could a kid take on the pirates AND the super mutants by itself?"

"Come ask the kid yourself!" Dana looked at me.

"Honey, did you take on those pirates and super mutants?"

"Well, the Pirates beat me up and took my food, and the mutants were just horrible shots." I told her.

"Oh my God!" She yelled. Dana apparently just noticed the bandages. "Are you okay?"

"It stings… A lot." I told her.

"Take a stimpak, on the house." She gave me some sort of shot.

"What do I do with it?" I asked her. She gave me a funny look, and then gave the same look to Bill.

"What? The kid didn't know what super mutants were either."

"Alright hone, here's how you do it. You take it and stab yourself with it."

"What? Why would I do that? It sounds like those chems Ma and Pa warned me about."

"Oh no, sweetie. You can't get addicted to stimpaks, and all they do is heal you. No side affects."

"Oh…" I took the stimpak and stabbed myself with it. "Ouch, that hurt!"

"Don't worry, it only hurts for a little bit. Then the pain will go away and your wounds will feel better.

"That doesn't make sen- Oh…" My wound was already feeling better. "It doesn't hurt any more." I removed my bandage and checked the wound. It was completely healed, no blood, no cut, no nothing.

"Sweetie, take care to remember that sometimes if you get injured enough it'll take multiple stimpaks to heal all your wounds. Also, if you get a crippled limb you can apply a stimpak directly to it and it will fix that limb."

"Thanks for telling me that. Do you know where I can find some more of those?"

"I have more, but you'll need some caps."

"Caps?" I asked.

"Why am I not surprised…? Caps. You know, like those things you get off of Nuka-Cola? We use them as currency in the Midwestern Wasteland."

"Oh! Now that I think about it, Ma did give me some bottle caps…"

"Sweetie, how about a deal? If you give me twenty caps, I'll give you five stimpaks. How does that sound?"

"Deal. Do you know where I can get some ammo and weapons? Maybe some food?"

"I've got food and drinks, but if you want weapons you'll have to talk to Steve over in hardware shop."

"Thanks. Do you have any meat?"

"Let's see… I've got Brahmin Steak… Some Iguana Bits… What do you think of Mole Rat Meat?"

"Mole Rats? Like those things Ma always complained about eating her gardens?"

"Yeah, probably. Anyway, what do you want?"

"I'd like to try the Mole Rat Meat."

"Here you go, that'll be ten caps." I handed over the caps and ate the meat. It tasted bitter… I thought I might have puked.

"It's a bit of an acquired taste…" Dana said.

"Ha ha ha! Acquired taste my ass, that shit sucks!" Bill laughed.

"Why didn't you tell me that?" I asked him.

"You never asked!" Bill continued laughing.

Asshole. I thought. I left the Diner and went over to the hardware store. There a man with a scar on his face greeted me.

"Need some weapons? Find them here!"

"Yeah, Dana already told me about that."

"Oh… That broad always ruins my advertising opportunities… So what are you looking for? We've got all the generic beginner shit that programming allows!"

"What?"

"Nothing! Anyway, we've got 10mm Pistols…"

"Got it."

"10 mm ammo…"

"Got it."

"10 mm submachine guns…"

"Hold up! Submachine guns?"

"Yeah. They're like pistols only they shot a lot faster."

"How much?"

"100 caps."

"100! I can't afford that!"

"Take it or leave it."

"Do you have anything I can do to make some money?"

"Well there is one thing…"