DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN FALLOUT 3 OR ANYTHING IN IT. DON'T SUE.
Also, I know I make short chapters. This will be one of the last. I promise the next one will be long, and that he will get a name. His title in fact. The Lone Wanderer. It is also going to be filled with fighting. So keep checking in. And please review and favorite.
As the boy was at his door, he already had his keychain out. It had about 3 keys, 2 of them from Vault 101, and the other one was the key to his new residence. But which one? He stared, wide eyed at the keychain. Jesus H. Christ, he was the most forgetful person he knew.
He got a feeling in his gut. In the dark, he felt eyes; cold, cold eyes watching him; piercing through his leather jumpsuit and skin. He looked around. Nobody there. His heart started pounding. He turned and, in a stroke of luck, chose a random key which happened to be the right one, and jammed it into the lock. He turned it to the right, opened the door, and quickly slid in. He locked it immediately. His heart was still pounding. He looked around. A medium sized room. Sparsely furnished, with only a couple of lockers, a Bobblehead-holder, a few shelves, a beaten-up old fried, and a staircase. His heart started to stop sounding like an Indian drum.
He sighed. How was he going to find Dad if he was afraid of his own sha-
"Good evening sir!"
"GAH FUCK! WHO ARE YOU!" The terrified boy was looking at some sort of robot, propelled by an engine on the bottom, and that had three arms. He felt a wave of déjà vu hit him. Where had he seen one of those before.
Then it hit him. Andy. The Vault's Mister Handy, basically a robotic butler that has a personal vendetta against cakes.
"Who are you I said?"
"I am Wadsworth, your personal, uhh, how do you say, robotic butler. I came with the house."
"Really? Well nice to meet you Wadsworth!"
"Nice to meet you master!"
"Call me…. Call me Thomas…"
"Ok Master!"
The Bo- ahem- Thomas groaned. "Nevermind about the call-me-Thomas thing."
"Ok Master! Would you like a drink?"
Thomas thought for a moment. He was parched...
"Have any water? Clean water?"
"Certainly sir!"
"OH GOD THANK YOU!" And with that, the skinny boy gulped down the bottle with the speed of a llama. After he was done, he thanked the robot and walked up the stairs. He made a mental note of witch ones squeaked: all of them.
He went into the bedroom, got on the surprisingly comfy bed, and let the folds of sleep envelope him.
Nice chapter, eh? I'm assuming you guys are hungry for some action in the next chapter, right? Or some 200 year old Salisbury Steak? Not news. That's for Three Dog (Bow Wow). Who will be coming up. In a bit.
Note to self: Never let robot butlers near my birthday cakes.
