Irregular footsteps pounded against the uneven ground, she was losing blood too quickly. This must be the end. After everything she'd been through, all the lifetime of scraping by. The cyclical nature of her existence never scrutinized fully under threat of what would happen if she took her mind off of survival. It was a stupid mistake, coming out here. She heard tales of Raven Rock, heard of what the wanderer had done. She needed to see it for herself. The menace that was the enclave needed to be eradicated. Though she was a fool to think she could do anything herself.
It was supposed to be a relatively mundane and simple reconnaissance, but nothing in the Wasteland ever went to plan. She was making steady progress at first, traveling all the way from the D.C. ruins to the savage barren lands of the north. Of resistance she initially met little. The occasional wild dog or bloatfly being easy enough to maneuver around or, barring that, stealthily incapacitate. The lack of difficulty so far must have given her a false sense of confidence.
After packing up the campsite and checking water rations, Samantha continued her trek. Now only a day or so away from that fabled stronghold of the greatest evil the Capital Wasteland had ever contended with. As she was passing by a small building surrounded by a chain-link fence in various states of disrepair she heard it. Well, to say she heard it would not be wholly accurate. There was a distinct smell about the place that she could not quite place. It smelled not entirely of death, but something close to it. As if some creature that should have passed into the afterlife long ago was still stubbornly clinging to its existence.
Only after this smell was consciously received by the intrepid traveler did she hear it. To refer to the noise as a godless wail would be to miss it's most important qualities. The sound possessed a great ferocity and a desperation so unlike anything Samantha was accustomed to in her travels. It seemed to come from the other side of the small building and, upon hearing it the woman ceased all movement. A cold fear swept through her, followed by a rush of chemicals her own brain was no doubt using to indicate danger.
The wail sounded again, and Samantha heard shuffling behind the building. It seemed as though this nameless and, up to now, formless monstrosity was moving away from its current resting place. Try as she might though, Samantha could not seem to move; rooted helplessly to her spot awaiting the sight of whatever beast or nightmare was capable of calling this land of horrors its home.
And a nightmare it was.
To call the thing hideous would be a gross understatement. It walked on four muscled limbs, its thick torso riddled with scars and sores in various degrees of severity. Small tufts of greasy hair sprouted unceremoniously and quite randomly across its entire body, and it looked as though radiation had done its absolute best to put the thing down. It was huge, at least three times as large as poor Samantha; and the way it moved indicated not only the utmost savagery, but a dangerous glimpse of intelligence.
Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw next. Upon glancing the head of the animal Samantha instinctively began to gag. The radiation and sores were the worst here, and it looked as if the beast had no lips. Forming a permanent and macabre snarl of the yellowest and sharpest teeth she had ever seen. Tiny exposed ears sat scarred and deformed to the back of its head, and the skull itself most closely resembled the wild dogs our traveler so wished would appear now. At least to provide some small distraction.
Though fearsome and grotesque they were, none of these features were responsible for the terrible and soul-wrenching fear that possessed Samantha upon the things exit from its hiding place. If she survived this encounter, she knew sleep would never be the same. The thing would haunt her for the rest of her life; and in that moment she prayed to whatever great capricious god would listen to spare her an afterlife. For she knew that image would haunt her even after death. The thing possessed two milky, wrathful eyes full of malice and suffering.
And it was staring directly at her.
Her body finally catching up to her mind, the woman turned and sprinted for salvation. The thing was too quick though, and was upon her in an instant. A sharp, mind-numbing pain spread from her upper to lower back and, had she the capacity for logical thought in that moment, she would have deduced the things terrible claws to be the source of her pain.
Instead, all thought being overridden by that mysterious and utilitarian yearning for survival, Samantha turned and dumped her entire 10mm magazine into the things face. The beast roared and reared back momentarily. Knowing this would be her only chance the woman rose to her feet and began running anew.
Her legs moving of her own volition, Samantha began to process her current predicament. Logically, of course, she knew there was only the slimmest of chances of escape from this hideous nightmare. Trying was the only thing to be done though, so try she did.
Irregular footsteps pounding against the uneven terrain, she was losing blood too quickly. Seeing potential shelter at the top of a nearby rocky outcropping the traveler began to climb, even as her vision swam and the roars of the creature could be heard not far behind. Finally making it to the top she afforded herself a small rest before jamming two stimpacks into her lower and upper back, there being no time to clean and dress the wounds properly.
The pain subsiding slightly, the woman gently crawled to the edge of the plateau and looked down, seeing something which reignited her falling sense of panic and dread. The thing was climbing, it appeared even more rapid in it's vertical chase than horizontal.
'This is it' she thought wearily to herself. 'This is the end', so she shut her eyes and peacefully awaited the inevitable. Her ears though, instead of being met with the tell-tale sound of that great beast reaching the zenith and throwing itself upon her, began picking up the sounds of a struggle. The beast was roaring in a much less confident and much more fearful attitude. The traveler heard a myriad of thumping, light grunts, and eventually two silenced gunshots.
Unable to even do so much as lift her head Samantha laid upon the sun-baked rock. Worrying not whether the entity thrusting itself into the conflict was her savior or some even worse evil vomited up from the savage North.
As her vision swam further into darkness, the woman's ears picked up on bits and pieces of conversation.
"I do not enjoy being the bait."
"Well someone has to do it, and you're the only guy I know that could actually shrug off a hit from one of those things."
"Still, there must be a better way."
"You and your 'better ways', we got the job done now let's see if we can still save that poor idiot on top of the rock."
Once hearing this Samantha allowed herself the slightest glimmer of hope. The last thing she saw before passing out was a great green bulky form pulling itself over the crest of stone; followed closely by a small, lithe figure wearing a strange skin tight suit and a helmet with orange visor clipped to her waist.
A/N I don't know if people still even read this stuff but I'm having so much fun writing I don't really care. In case it's not obvious, I've been reading a lot of Lovecraft lately and while I don't consciously try to imitate artists that I like, it seems pretty obvious his work is influencing this. As always, reviews are welcome and I hope everyone enjoyed!