Trial by the Blues.
Chapter 1
*SLllliiiit*
"NOOOOOOoooo!" screamed out a heavy and deep male voice as he saw the blade run across the throat of his loved one. The blood ran down heavily and drenched
her clothing on her torso. Her eyes gave a solemn look to him... but a small smile forms on her lips and she soon slumps over as the blood mixes into the hot
wasteland gravel. Her eyes slowly roll back into her head and gave out a long exhale as the life escaped her lips. This man, A Ranger; struggled immensely
while the tears filled and flowed out from his eyes fueled by anger and hatred. A large man in a heavy make-shift armor approaches the beaten and broken ranger.
Two other men held on him tight as they smiled wickedly seeing the woman slumped over before them. As he approaches The Ranger, he kneels in
front of him and dangles a necklace in front of his face. The ranger yelled out in primeval rage and spat and cursed at this particular man.
He simply chuckles and stuff's the necklace into his shirt. He smiled gently and maniacally at him.
"Another trophy and kill to my name." He grinned and stood up. The Ranger's blood boiled in fury. He was stripped of his weapons and equipment and now his friends.
" YOU GODDAMNED SON OF A BITCH! ONCE I GET OUT I'M GOING TO RIP OUT YOUR FUCKING EYEBALLS!" he swore and spat as he yelled out in rage.
He struggled with effort, feeling the strain on his muscles. The men hold on tighter with a painful grip. He growls and grinds his teeth, feeling the pressure build
up. He started to calm down a little with each burst of power and as all that power left, He began to weep softly.
"You goddamned son of a bitch..." he said quietly. "You Legion son's of bitches... you...ALL OF YOU... I'M GOING TO KILL EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU-
MARAUDING BASTARDS!" He clenches his fists hard and felt his nails dig under his skin.
The man in the armor laughs and approaches the Ranger once more and kneels in front of him.
"You have nerves of steel, I will give you that, Bull Killer." He places his hand on his chin and lifts his head up.
The Ranger known as the "Bull Killer" looks up into the face of his lover's executioner.
His complexion was tanned though there were early signs of facial hair growing on his neck and face. His large Centurion helmet made his head look heavy and frightening.
A broad jaw made his appearance menacing and so did the wicked grin he had on his mouth. His eyes were obscured by a pair of heavily tinted motor-cycle
goggles. His hair overlapped parts of his face and his side burns were neatly cut.
The Legion was a faction that originated in what used to be in Arizona. A huge army that consisted of tribal's and former slaves. In the time coming they would become
Slavers themselves nad maraud the wasteland for years under the leadership of a man named "Caesar". If they were not beaten in the Battle of Hoover Damn in 2277 they
would've controlled the Mojave under a cruel Crimson banner of slavery.
" Hehehe..." He chuckles as he looks into his fiery, brown eyes filled with tears and rage. This Soldier of Caesar clenches his fist and swings with great force, striking
the ranger on the jaw.
As the blow from the Centurion strikes his jaw his head snaps sideways with a loud crack.
*CraaacckkK!*
He felt his neck bones snap out and for a moment he thought the heavy blow killed him. He felt the pain grow on his neck and jaw grow and he grunted and opened
his eyes to see another fist fly in and punch him on the side of the head. Again his head snapped to the direction of the punch and he grunted in pain, Grinding his
Teeth. The Ranger expected a slow and a painful death ahead of him.
*Strike*, *Strike*, *thud*, smmaaack!*
The man continued to beat the ranger cruelly and without mercy and with no sign of stopping. It would've seemed that the Ranger from the "NCR" was going to die.
But his spirit clung to him as the blows kept coming. His face bloodied and swollen, He begins to loosen his grip and slump over unconsciously. The two men behind him
let him go as he lifelessly falls onto the hot wasteland earth. The two men and the Centurion crowd around him and they gently kick his face to see any kind of
Reaction. There was none. The Centurion barked orders at the two lesser Legionaries.
" Enough! He's dead. Leave him here with the other degenerates to be baked by the sun... The fury of the Legion has been avenged." He spat and he turned around
and begins to walk away without a second glance. The other men oblige to the orders and they look at the corpse of the ranger below them. They both look at each
other and smile wickedly as they both think of the same thing. Rearing their feet backwards they both simultaneously Kick the fallen Ranger on the chest, flipping him
over onto his back. Yet still, he does nothing but lay there lifelessly. His eyes were closed and bloody.
The two soldiers sigh with disappointment.
"So THIS is the might of the N.C.R.?" one of the men says. "I was expecting a great fight... Instead we get some pathetic degenerate who calls himself a Veteran-
Ranger of the NCR... We should have lashed him onto a cross as the sun and bugs consume his body." They both sigh in disappointment as they walk away from the
burning home and the three corpses of the Veteran Ranger, his loved one and his fellow partner.
As the three men walked away. He felt as if his spirit returned to his body and when it did his eyes shot open and looked around. The home was burning and crumbling
to the ground. He saw the body of his loved one and his friend. He slowly turns his head to the right to see a holster upon the ground. He again checks on the men.
None of them gave a second look back. He focuses his attention onto the holster ahead. He slowly crawls painfully towards the weapon, again checking onto the three
men; Still nothing. He finally reaches the holster and inspects its contents. It was a large, black and ornately engraved revolver in the compartment. A unique variant
Of a Hunting Revolver. A large and heavy pistol that spat out .45-70 govt. rounds onto a target. But this revolver is custom made and issued to Rangers who had
Served in the NCR is a time span of Twenty years. Though hardly surpassing that age, He got his of of another dead ranger while on patrol one day. Best decision
he'd ever made.
The NCR was a faction that stood for the New California Republic. Like its name, It in fact originated in post-nuclear California in a small town named Shady Sands. Over
The course of time, The NCR grew and grew and grew immensely. It expanded out south as far as Baja in Mexico. Recently it started to expand east into Nevada.
While in Nevada, several scouts discovered the old world structure of Hoover Dam and they quickly took over it. The only thing stopping them from heading farther in east was
The Legion. Now, The Ranger had his hands on a very powerful weapon... and all it had to take was three bullets, and dead-eye aim.
He pulls it out and he examines it... his hands trembling with anger. He dislodges the chambers and checks the ammo. All five of the chambers were
loaded. He pushes in the chambers and he pulls back the hammer and aims ahead. While his eyes focus they burn up and blur with his tears of rage causing
Temporary blindness. His vision was impaired slightly. He mutters out coldly with ice as the heat beat down on his back.
"This was for Nick... you dirty Crimson bastard..." He aims down the sight and pulls the trigger.
With a deafening bang the revolver lunges backwards with a painful recoil . The bullet spins in through the air in blinding velocity and before he knew what hit him, The
Legion soldier's head implodes sending bits of skull and brain matter into the air as red mist scatters in the wind. The other soldier and the Centurion turn around and
draw out their weapons in retaliation.
Another deafening bang exploded out and soon after, The other flies backwards as the force of the bullet strikes him into his heart, Penetrating deep inside. He was
knocked unconscious as he bled out. "...Thumbs Down you son of a bitch..." he hissed. "And now... this is for Abigail you scum sucking BASTARD!" He pulls the trigger
and the bullet strikes him hard and dirty; Sending him backwards falling to the ground.
The bitter end was over and now...He had to endure a hard and painful beginning.
He drops the revolver and he slowly and painfully stands up on his feet, Feeling as if his bones were stabbing his innards. He breathed in
painfully. He took time to suck in the pain both emotional and physical. He grunted as he took steps to walk toward the burning house. There was
things he needed to retrieve.
"N-no..." He said in a solemn voice. He steadily walked into the fiery house feeling the heat sizzle on his skin. The pain was excruciating.
"W-Where the hell is it!?" he looks around the burning building and smoke. He finally spots it! There was safe embedded into the floorboards.
He falls to his knee's as debris falls about him. He opens it and retrieves it contents and runs out through the fire.
His clothes were scorched and full of suit. His wounds bled and burned slightly. he drops the contents onto the floor and examines them for anything
wrong.
The contents contained several-hundred bottle caps contained into a burlap and neatly tied. The other was 4 boxes of ammo bearing the words.
"Silver Star .45-70 gov't". The final thing was a large and empty bag.
He packed all the things in the bag along with some clothes he managed to find in the burning house. He zipped up everything together and he
got up reached into his pocket and pulled out a large syringe containing a red fluid. He injected it into his neck and he hissed with pain as the
needle pierces his skin and the fluid flows into his bloodstream. He sighs in relief and the pain declines slowly. The only thing it did not heal was
the emotional and psychological pain. He looked over to his right as the fire blazed on. The slumped and blood-soaked body of his girlfriend who's
name was Abigail. The tears weld up in his eyes and he walked towards her.
"Oh...God..." He fell to his knee's and he leaned over her corpse. The tears fall on her shoulder. He grabbed her and hugged the lifeless corpse
in his arms, rocking it gently.
"I'm so... so...SO...Sorry..." He kept muttering the same words as he rocked her. His bedraggled hair laid damp with sweat over his eyes.
He wept and wept. He hated himself... he hated everything in those moments... He hated The N.C.R., He hated the Legion, He hated the war.
Hated EVERYTHING ... He held the corpse close to his chest and he closed her eyelids and kisses her forehead goodbye.
" Goodbye, Abby..." the tears mixed into the blood and dirt and onto his armor. He carried her body next to the other corpse. He shook his head
at him and he frowned. He laid the corpse next his.
"If there was one thing I would keep in my memories..." he paused as his voice cracks. "It's to be reliving the times we have had together...
you stubborn son of a bitch!" He chuckles and chokes up as he stares at his friend. A huge hole was carved through his abdomen.
He felt horrible for the way he died.
"Goodbye...Nick...It's going to be hard to break the truth to you sister..." he patted his friend and he stood up and he waited there for a long time.
He sniffled and the tears again flowed from his eyes.
"I'm so sorry... I promise... I PROMISE That I will kill every last one of those... 'Crimson' bastards... I swear it..." He grit and swore.
From behind he felt an eerie presence. He reaches down to his holster and pulls and point with lightning speed at the figure. He was surprised
For what he saw next.
The Ranger lowered his weapon at the sight of a young teenager dressed in a very odd styled black dress. Her hair was blonde clean and neatly tied. Her hair was
clipped by two black ribbons. The girl was eerily creepy for some reason. She had something in her hands that looked like a cup and a dish. She was calmly sipping on
its contents.
"...How long were you standing there...? spoke the Ranger. The little girl was standing in the hot evening sun. The shroud of night was creeping from the east.
The girl flashed her eyes. Her iris were red and this unsettled The ranger.
"Long enough." She said in a funny accent.
The Ranger shook his head.
"You should get out of here, kid. While you still have a chance..." He grit his teeth and holstered his revolver into his holster.
"I am pretty certain that I can handle myself against all of these simple minded buffoons such as yourself." She gave a small chuckle.
The ranger turned his head and said coldly.
"I said... Beat it!" He snapped out.
The girl looked at him at a deathly tone. "I'd appreciate if you didn't use that tone on me..." she sipped again at her cup.
"I'd appreciate if you get the hell out of here before I lose my temper!" He growled back.
" If you are going to act that way I might as well do what I was needed to do." She lowered her cup.
The Ranger growled and turned around. "If you don't leave on the count of three I am going to-"
"Tempest Dahlia!" Without warning, an incredibly powerful gust of wind comes into the Rangers direction sending forth gravel, rocks, pieces of metal and large
chunks of charred wood.
"W-What!?" he shielded using his arm. He felt the sting of the gravel and dirt hitting his eyes. "Stop this shit now or Ill-" suddenly a piece of charred wood
Whacks him on the head sending him flying into the wind. His vision blurs and darkness overwhelms him. A deep sleep embodies him.
The girl sighs and walks towards his unconscious body.
"What a fool you are... blinded by revenge... It almost's sounds like another buffoon that I know... Never-the-less, There are many possibilities in the Continuum Shift.
And you will be the one to change it... Thomas Valdez." The girl stands next to his body and they both disappear from the wasteland. Through Time and Space they
fly through.
~To be continued.