The Seventh Vault Hunter
Every single time, literally, every single time I try, I can't. I just can't. No matter what I do, I just can't. I don't know, maybe it's the way I look? No… Is it the way I smell? No, that can't be it-I smell like frosted cupcakes… I just don't know anymore. I mean, what do Vault Hunter's even do? What do they have that I don't?I don't even know why I do this. It's just a dead end I keep mindlessly ramming into over and over and over again.
I've made it a long way though-at least I have that. Me and my trusty Torgue shotgun have killed a lot of people! That's not something to be smiling about. Well… Never mind. And when I boarded the Hyperion train, to "confront Jack," and "end his tyranny once and for all," I didn't expect it to be guarded by robots, and already infiltrated by six other vault hunters! The first explosion I heard, I ditched. I wasn't ready for that at, all. When I hit the ground I scraped my left arm, and it was in pain for four days.
I couldn't stop walking. I don't know why, but I just had this optimism that pushed me along for four days; through hunger, pain, and cold. I wonder how those other vault hunters actually do what they do. They probably have some special ability that no one else has. What do I have like that… Oh! I almost forgot! I have a grenade mod! It's- It's- not- just a grenade mod though. It talks, and regenerates, and can turn into any kind of grenade I want it to! I get way too excited when I think about that. I mean, I just found it! It was in a… Hyperion testing facility, but still! It was just sitting there, and it talked to me, saying "Help me! Help me John!" Of course, that wasn't my name, but I took it, and ran like hell!
My goal was to take down a bandit camp, and show those "Crimson Raiders" I was a good vault hunter too. It seemed simple enough, right up until I had to jump off of the train that was going to take me there. Eventually, after a ton of close calls with groups of bullymongs, and stray psychopaths, I made it to a great little bandit camp, that was just perfect to take down. I was so happy! I made it! All of my hard work was going to pay off! Now I just had to take it over.
I stopped, and took a deep breath. There were about eleven bandits, and my grenade takes about eight seconds to recharge. My shield could probably take about twenty bullets, and then I'll be dead. I vaulted (HAH) over the big rock in front of me and didn't look back. I fired my shotgun into the first bandit I saw. I surprised them, and they were not happy. Every bandit stopped what they were doing and immediately opened fire. I tossed my grenade over and over, waiting for it to recharge, and firing my shotgun into the crowds. I started feeling my shield give way, and before I could kill the last two bandits with my grenade, I was shot. My journey ended. There was no hope, nor optimism left in me.
They dragged me to coldest tundra available. I woke to see a small robot come and take my only gun. After a good long look at me, he started dragging me to a New-U station. I was going to live again. That didn't matter though. What really mattered, was that the robot believed in me.