Fallout 3 – Fanfic pt1
He picked himself up from the filthy mattress, he wasn't blessed with much sleep last night so his limbs were still aching from the long walk it took to get here. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and blinked a few ties to get his vision back. After getting his bearings he surveyed his room to check everything was ok, in these times you had to be careful some Raiders hadn't crept into his room during the night, stole some things then left him a little explosive surprise on their way out. Then again if Riders had visited him during the night they would hardly have came in quietly or ignored the pristine hunting rifle he had propped up against the wall behind him. That rifle had saved his skin more times than he cared to remember and he never let it get out of his reach.
The shack he called home was a very minimalistic affair, corrugated iron made up the walls and roof and the "rooms" were separated by empty metal boxes piled up to the ceiling. His furniture included a single wooden chair placed infront of the window which he used to snipe from in-case anyone fancied a pop at him, a cooker complete with stove (Not that he ever used these, his diet consisted of mainly potato chips and the odd pep bar) and a filthy old mattress laying in the corner of the "living room" Yet even though this place was definitely no Whitehouse, he was happy here, or as happy as a person could be in this post-apocalyptic situation.
For the previous few weeks he had been wandering the wastes in search of supplies and had ended up getting ambushed by a band of mercenaries, after a prolonged gun battle he managed to hobble away with what little energy he had and stumble his way back here. He could have course just gone to one of the nearby settlements like Megaton or Arefu but he hated the general feeling of forced socialism he got in those places and couldn't stand the idea of having to share his food with someone weaker than him, in his opinion, only the strong should be fed, only the strong should be protected and only the strong should survive, according to him its survival of the fittest and he doesn't plan on being left behind. So instead he decided to forage for his supplies and if need be, to steal or kill for them, after all, wasn't he a more valued member of "society" than some god forsaken mutant who is hoarding food and ammo? He sure thought so, and if some filthy mutant or Raider had some weapon or ammunition that he wanted or needed, by god he'd take it.