2077-The day the world went wrong

The house was silent as dawn broke. The world was asleep and this was the case in the Watson household as always. However, as every clock in the home began to display 6am in bright green LED lights, alarms were blaring and illumination was present in every room, with automated systems activating in perfect synchronicity. Tom sat up in his king sized bed. Moira stirred beside him, groaning as the light hurt her eyes.
"Gotta wake up beautiful. It's another day in paradise." He smiled widely as she turned with a sly grin on her face. "Paradise? Just because everything in this house is an ultra-bright white it doesn't make it heaven." Tom stood up and walked from the bed as Moira rolled around behind him. "I've gotta wake Al up alright?"
"Yeah yeah go get him ready, just don't be expecting me to make him a sandwich." She replied playfully. Tom turned back and offered a smile. "Of course I'm not expecting that. Why would I shell out so much on a robot if you still have to work?"

Alistair Watson lay sleeping in his bed despite the world trying to wake him up. Several minutes had passed since the time when he was supposed to get up, and all he hoped now was for a chance to sleep a little longer. But, just like every other day, he was being woken again. However this morning, he felt a harsh hand on his shoulders. "Hey dad. Alright?" There was no reply. Instead the firm grip his father had on him tightened, finally pulling Alistair off of the bed and onto the floor. The impact felt quick and painful, but mostly surprising. His dad ripped him from the bed? "Ah! What the hell was that?!" he screamed in disbelief. Tom ran to the doorway, staring in at what was unfolding. "Al why are you down there? Did you say dad?" A look of confusion spread across their faces like wildfire.

Moira Watson walked down the sleek spiral staircase which connected the two floors of the house. She crossed the open plan ground floor to reach the kitchen which, for the first time in months, was cluttered with dirty cutlery and dining ware. Mister Handy hadn't done his job. Above her she could hear commotion unfolding but remained fixated on what lay before her. They paid so much for that damned robot and now it's not even working! Moira walked over to the terminal to activate Mister Handy. "Alright then… Mister Handy… And activate. And activate. Come on man! Hang on. You're already out. And you're walking Spiro?" She walked away from the panel and out the back door. The robot was stood in front of her. Spiro was laying on the floor by his dog house still. He hadn't been walked, and something was very different.

Mister Handy hovered outside. As usual he'd been released at 6am, but only to realise that the chores he was meant to do overnight in the house hadn't taken place. The first job for him to complete was to walk the Watson family dog, Spiro, which was strange as well. Spiro's walk had to be activated by a user. No one was awake before 6am. Not one to question a direct order, especially as a subservient android, Mister Handy arrived at the dog house. As he always did, he picked up the dog and tried to put it on its feet. However Spiro didn't stand. Time and time again, the robot picked the dog up onto his feet but he just fell back down onto the floor, his body stiff but lively. Mister Handy returned to the house, unable to complete his mission, and having heard some shouting inside.

Moira Watson pushed past Mister Handy with brute force and a sense of dread. She stared up into the sky, which was brown and polluted with plumes of smoke surrounding their house. The large fences which surrounded their small, secluded garden had been melted severely and the dog house which Spiro loved so much was black and burnt. What had happened here overnight? Where was everybody? Moira turned back towards the house and stared up at the window nearest to her, Al's bedroom, which was surrounded by the dishevelled brickwork of the Watson home. "Tom! Alistair!" she shouted. "Something is very wrong…"

Tom Watson ran down the stairs, his son in pursuit. He too saw the unusual lack of effort from Mister Handy as he passed through the kitchen. The back door had been thrown open, and he could see Moira in front of him, with blackened wood behind her. She stared into his eyes and began to cry. "Tom… It's all gone. The city's gone." He ran back inside to his bedroom and pressed the button to open the curtains. The process was very slow and tedious. "Come on! God damn you I don't have time for this!" They continued to open at a steady pace. "Oh fuck this." Tom ripped down the curtains from their mechanical rails, halting the progress and breaking the system. He now just stared out of the window in disbelief. In the distance he could see the landmarks which he saw every day in the capitol. The Washington Memorial was on the horizon, a plume of smoke emerging from the top. It was broken and decrepit. Tom scanned his neighbour's houses also, which were destroyed and exploded across entire streets. What about the people in the houses? Were his friends alive? Were his family alive? Or maybe, just maybe, were the Watsons the last people in the world? Tom stepped back down the stairs, staring into space as he walked. Until something horrifying broke his moment. There was a knock at the door. Moira and Alistair silently walked in behind him.

Moriarty Moreau crouched behind a wall. The Watsons were only a block away now, but that didn't mean he was any closer. The place had already become a death trap, and for Enclave soldier Moreau it was just another day at the office. Peering over the wall, he saw radiated creatures crawling like a swarm of rats through the neighbourhood. He fell back against the wall, preparing to advance. Moriarty took a light step to the right and leaned in through a doorway. He sneaked through the house and out of the back door, into a pathway. "Oh wow," he thought to himself. "This connects all these houses! I'll be at Tom's in minutes."

So then, with a new sense of excitement, Moriarty continued down the alleyway, until a tremendous growl halted his progress. In a single, slick movement, he turned to look behind him. Stood 10 foot high in the narrow alley was a DeathClaw. With its large, arched back and mutated muscles, it stared fixatedly at him. As a soldier for the Enclave, the testing for, and creation of, this creature was well known for him. This was meant to be his successor. Moriarty glanced around the alleyway, desperately searching for an escape. To his left he found an open door. Knowing the impossible speed of this monster, Moriarty lunged for the opening, slamming it shut behind him. Within seconds the grunting was close again. He darted inside the house to find the latest victim of the DeathClaw, sliced open and bloodied. It was a surreal moment. He knew this person. A happy youthful woman, Silver, cut down in her prime by a savage beast of human creation. They shared a moment of silence as he stared into her cold, terrified eyes. "I had the biggest crush on you… Even liked being around you. Now look where we are. If you were with me we'd be alive together now. But you weren't… You got your own family, and where are they now, Silver?" Moriarty sighed and looked to his left. A cracked pane of glass sat in the window, reflecting his face back at him. There were tears in his eyes. A massive crash exploded outside of the house, and the DeathClaw was now inside. Moriarty stood with his back against the front door, heaving a sigh of relief as he knew the creature was hopeless to catch him. A smile crept across his face, and he walked away from the house. Just across the street he found the Watson household, and knocked on the door with a feeling of great success, until he remembered where he was. Further down the street, a horde of feral ghouls had assembled, and Moriarty's lapse of caution meant they knew where he was.

Moira Watson held on to her family with fear flowing through her body. "Alistair you don't move anywhere, okay, you stay here with your father!" Her son nodded faithfully, and she smiled and walked out of the back door again. Tom followed her out, also telling Alistair to stay. "Excuse me? Where are you going?" he asked. Moira turned to him furiously and indicated for him to be silent. "I am going to find out what is knocking at our door in the middle of fucking Armageddon okay? So, go back inside, and if I think it's safe out there, I come back in and we find out who or what it is. Have we got a deal, Tom?" Not entirely convinced, and entirely reluctant, her husband returned to the house. Moira took a deep breath as she approached the wooden gate to the road which had once been the crowning jewel in her American dream. It was now ruined. She opened it slowly, ensuring that she couldn't be seen or heard. Recognising the person at the doorstep was a big relief as well. It was Moriarty Moreau, and if anyone was going to be left alive in this Godforsaken wasteland, it would be him. Moira was satisfied. She smoothly closed the gate and walked back inside.

Tom Watson walked back to the house. He was frustrated and flustered, and now that his wife was risking her life for the family, he was even more annoyed. Offering himself instead would also have been pointless. Moira is stubborn and powerful when the situation calls for it, and this situation definitely called for it. Tom walked back into the house and stood next to his son. "What's going on dad?" asked Alistair. Tom looked down at him and forced a weak smile. "Your mother's just checking something out, she'll be back in a minute and then we can start to try to make this work." His son looked at him and offered a reassuring smile, both knowing that this was an unlikely outcome. Moira walked into the house, sealing the back door securely behind her. "Tom, open the door." He stared at his wife in disbelief. "Why? Who is it?" He asked inquisitively. "Oh God help me! Let me in here already!" The knocking resumed, faster and more frantic than ever. Tom ran to the door and unlocked it. "Moriarty! Get in here!" he shouted, grabbing his friend and pulling him in through the door. "Tom! God it's good to see you!" He threw his arms around him and smiled widely. "What's going on? What happened last night?" asked Tom excitedly, awaiting answers. Moriarty looked back at him with a lost expression. "No idea, man." Tom's smile flipped upside down. "Well then… How come we're still fine and everything else is all messed up?" His friend smiled and nodded towards the ultra-bright white walls. "Now I can tell you that one. Remember that stuff I made you get? That safe proofing so you wouldn't need one of those vault things they made? That's why we're still here." Tom smiled. "So then… We aren't the only people left?" Moriarty nodded. Now there was more battering at the door. Heavy thud after heavy thud hit the material. "Now those aren't more party guests. They're ghouls, and if you wouldn't mind, I'd like you to go fetch the Enclave weapons you've got here. We gotta take them down." Tom turned to Moira, who sighed and nodded. Tom walked up the stairs and called Alistair with him. "Alright son, I have to go out there. I'm going out there to protect you okay? But for now, it's not safe. Just… Go back to bed, I can send Mister Handy to come give you a story if you want, just, I'm not quite ready yet so, go back to bed." He nodded at Alistair and knelt down, kissing his forehead. "Alright dad, I'll go back to bed and wait for you. Stay safe though, you and Uncle Moriarty." He turned and walked back to his bedroom, laying down on his bed and waiting for his father. Tom walked to his gun safe and pulled out a combat shotgun and some shells. He met Moriarty at the gate in the garden, who was stood next to Moira. "Alright Tom, ready?" He nodded a reply, and the two of them stood at the gate with Moira behind them.

Moira Watson stared onwards, feeling helpless as she watched her husband and friend risk their lives for her family. Tom stood by the front of the house, blasting ghouls away in groups with his powerful shotgun, whilst Moriarty fired almost continuously with his Chinese Assault Rifle. She kept watching for minutes which felt like hours. By this point, the gunshots had attracted even more creatures, and even grotesquely mutated animals and insects were attacking now. Moira turned around, unable to bear watching anymore, and made a discovery. Moriarty had brought a pack, full of supplies like Stimpaks and Med-X, and some extra weapons. A large, loaded .44 Magnum lay on top of the others, calling out to her. Moira bent down and picked it up, checking if it was ready to be used if needed. She returned to the door, feeling more secure and more afraid than ever before.

Moriarty Moreau stood alongside Tom, remembering work with him as Enclave soldiers. However, this was no time for reminiscence, and as he felt the automatic power shaking his entire body, he knew this was not a piece of fun. This was serious and dangerous. "Moriarty! Horde on the right!" shouted Tom. He instantly spun to the right and began to open fire on the mass of enemies. The sound of every bullet being fired rang in his ears, blocking out the world around him. As the last of the ghouls on the right side hit the floor, Moriarty bent down and removed the empty clip from his weapon. He picked up a refreshed magazine and looked at Tom. "Check your weapon, son." He said. Tom looked back and smiled. Moriarty's eyes darted to the right of him. A lone ghoul was running for his friend. "Tom!" But it was too late. The creature leapt onto him and forced him to the ground. He attempted to hold it back, but it was a helpless effort, and it began to bite chunks of his face. Moriarty fumbled with the clip, dropping it on the floor as Tom was being eaten. His face was stricken with grief as he was failing to save his friend. To the other side of Tom, Moriarty saw the gate kicked open. Moira stood in the opening, with a Magnum raised at the ghoul which had mounted her husband. She fired a shot. The bullet flew through the air, obliterating the monster's head as it impacted. Lowering the weapon, Moira ran for the partially-devoured corpse and fell to her knees. Tears streamed down her face as another creature emerged from a house across the street. She stood up, wiping the tears from her eyes and raising the weapon again. The Magnum was a six shooter, and Moriarty watched in confusion as she fired five shots to no avail. He turned his head to the right to see the DeathClaw from the alleyway. It had been immune to the five shots, and Moriarty watched in horror as the monster moved with lightning precision to sever Moira's head from her body. Tears began to stream down his face as he turned from the neighbourhood and ran away, leaving the area and his old life behind.

2133-63 years later

Sam navigated his way through the wastelands. The morning had just broken and the supplies from the Enclave which now weighed him down were his only protection from the unforgiving wildlife. Radiation had taken a severe affect since the event, with legions of radscorpions lining the highways and streets with fury and a thirst for blood. He looked down to his wrist to find a Pip-Boy 3000. The closest broadcasting station was from the Enclave, which spread its messages to any poor survivors left outside. Sam studied the map which illuminated his face in the dim morning light, noting the location of important co-ordinates ahead of him. It was the sighting of a Deathclaw, but above all, the place which had been remembered and shared by a veteran member of his brotherhood. And so, with great haste but careful curiosity, he continued towards the ruins in the neighbourhood. "This is it... 62-25-33. The place mentioned in the guidebooks!"

Sam crouched low to the ground and scanned the area. He was surrounded by enemies, and more surprisingly, by skeletons of enemies. Approaching the nearest of them, he saw the deformed, warped form of this creature. It must have been a ghoul. But why were there so many here? Who could have killed them? Sam's head was littered with confusion, and with curiosity spurring him on, he moved closer to the decrepit building in front of him. The porch which supported the front door was littered with bodies, two skeletons, one of which was separated and the other mutilated. "What the hell happened here Moriarty?" he muttered. Sam leant against the door, attempting to force his way in. The entrance was blocked. Walking around the side of the house, he found a small wooden gate wedged open by a bag of weapons, labelled with the letters 'MM'. "What've we got here…? Huh. One pistol. This guy didn't get very far." Sam smiled, taking it and putting it in his pack. "One more for me I guess." He looked up into the empty garden which housed a small, dishevelled dog house. Laying in front of it was the skeleton of a pet.

Sam fell back to the ground as he crept to the back door of the home, opening it slowly. "What the fuck!" He cried. A massive, dead, vicious creature was slumped against the front door, blocking any entry. The DeathClaw had been killed all this time. It appeared that it had been shot repeatedly through the head from behind, and now an empty Chinese assault rifle lay next to its corpse. Sam walked further into the kitchen, which was cluttered with tableware and cutlery over its broken and burnt surfaces. To the right of him was a panel, and to the left a containment tube for a robot. "Okay then, Mister Handy, let's see what you can do." Sam activated the panel which was covered in dust and debris from years of destruction around it. The display was outdated, the technology was clearly from the time that the Pip-Boy 3000 had been created with its retro-electronic screen and basic green LEDs. There were just a few commands, with a note in the bottom corner, stating its last activation-50 years ago.

Sam scanned the panel, scrolling through options. He found that the time was set to 6am, and the activation he caused meant that the house was coming alive again, with lights and systems waking the ghosts of residents and the robot. The most recent task for the robot to complete in the house was walking a dog, and Sam chose to see this performed again. Mister Handy was removed from his tube and hovered through the back door and out to the dog house,. where he tried and failed to pick up the animal's skeleton. Sam stared onwards in horror, feeling a familiar chill down his spine as if this had happened before. Turning around, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, venturing further into the house. Sam climbed a spiral staircase to find several bedrooms, the first of which was small and white with a single bed. And a skeleton on top of it.beforeeds had happened beforepick up the animal's skeleton. Sam stared onwards in horror, feeling a familiar chill down his spi

Sam moved into the room, placing a heavy hand on the shoulder of the skeleton on the bed. It was small, that of a child, but the decomposition which had taken place spoke of its time in the house. Investigating further, he pulled the skeleton from the bed, and paused momentarily. A sense of echoing screams and conversation bounced through his head as the bones hit the floor. He backed out of the room, horror and confusion blurring his thoughts. What had happened here? The lights around the house had poured an eerie yellow light over the dirty floor which Sam now stood on. Behind him, Mister Handy followed up the stairs and moved into the bedroom the child had been in, holding a book in his metallic hand. The robot stood in the corner of the room, opening the book and beginning to read to the body which lay, mangled, on the floor.

To the left of him, Sam could hear what sounded like crying. It was echoing down the hall he stood in from a room at the end. He approached the room, his feet moving on without the consent of his brain. The off-white door opened to reveal a wide space with a large bed in the centre. The wall featured a window with a damaged curtain rail ripped from above it. However, the most unsettling aspect of the room was yet another skeleton, laying on the bed, with a large handgun beside it. Pillows below the skull were stained with blood, and, on closer inspection, it was clear that decomposition had not achieved as much here. This person had come back after what happened here.

Sam continued to examine the remnants of life that were left in the room. T it was clear that decomposition had not achieved as he skeleton was still covered in tattered rags which resembled a uniform. A name tag was hanging from the rib cage; it was that of Moriarty Moreau.

The scavenger stared on in horror. "Moreau? It was Moriarty Moreau!" He paused to look down at his own Enclave uniform which was covered in dust and dirt. He wiped the debris from his own name tag, revealing Moreau. "We were related…?" Sam fell against the wall where he stood, sitting on the decrepit and decomposing carpet. Blinking, Sam felt the colour had drained from the room when his eyes reopened, and now the eerie light had changed, leaving a sepia tone over the room. He looked upwards at the bed to find that the skeleton had gone, and as he continued to scan the room, that the décor and structure had been restored; what had happened here? Was he caught in some type of time paradox? Questions chased answers through his head to no avail, until a spectral, yet realistic, figure emerged from the door way. It was an aging man, grief stricken and damaged. He tore the grey uniform he wore open over his torso to reveal a large gash into his chest. Sounds of aching and pain blurted from his mouth as he stumbled towards the bed, where the sat on the edge with a pistol in his hand.

Sam spared a moment to consider what he was seeing; the corpse had gone, but now another form was about to fill its space. Was this his chance to get answers for what happened here?

"Hey! Hey mister! What's going on here?" inquired Sam. The gentleman continued to stare at his feet from the edge of the bed. He spoke, and though it was not in reply, it seemed to contain the same events: "I wanted to protect ya. That's all I ever wanted. I got ya to protect the house, your family, yourself. But it was never enough. Is it ever enough anymore? We've got scorpions larger than men and guns smaller than mice without any hope of salvation. Yet still. Here I am. Coming back to the scene of the crime. 13 years have passed and has anything changed? Of course not. You're still dead, Tom, ya stupid SOB. Your wife, dead. Your boy got left, all alone, dead. I can't save ya. Who is anyone to fool? Ya can't save anyone anymore! People will blow your head off as soon as talk to ya. There is no salvation, the Enclave doesn't do nothin', but I'm still expected to clear up the mess everyone leaves behind?" The man was bitter and broken, spitting words from his mouth like they were poison. "Well y'know what, Tom, and any of you poor souls out there who think it's still worth listening? I'm done. Moriarty Moreau, signing off…" he pushed a button on the device which was attached to his wrist. It was a broadcaster for the Enclave radio channel. "It's always darkest before the dawn, and in this house, dawn is never reached." And with the final remark, the gun was raised to his head. "No!" shouted Sam, just as the trigger was pulled. The blood splattered over the walls, reverting them to the off white which had grown over the last 63 years. The scavenger walked to the bed where the skeleton still lay. "I hope you found peace my friend." He looked past the body to the large handgun. Sam picked it up and held it against his head.