User:Shadowshudder32825

shadowshudder
'''I did that shit for Talon Company way too long, years of loyalty and excellence in combat dosent mean jack shit to those fools. All they want is young blood and people with smooth skin, what a bunch of backstabbers. I shouldnt shower you with my story of how I ended up with no job and having to consider joining those jackass's called the "raiders", what a bunch of inexperienced young kids hopped up on bunches of combat drugs. Jesus christ, when those bombs fell, they fell especially hard on me.'''

My Story
'''Man, way back before those goddamn bombs fell, I was on top of the world; I had a hot girlfriend, lived in a place now forgotten, good 'ol San Diego, CA. Was in the toughest gang in town doing all kinds of dumbass shit you'd expect from pre war teenagers. Ok, I'll start my story off with my name, Shane, when I joinded the gang back then they picked the names for us, I did the shady jobs, pickpocketing, thefts, heists, I was always in the shadows; but when it came to the gun fights, I'd shudder in fear and run like a pansy, boy has that changed. So hence the name shadowshudder. Anyways, on the fateful day in October 23, 2077, I was having a little party with some of the other guys in my gang out in the desert (we were trying out this old drug we found called acid and wanted to be a little careful). So we were partying, and right before I took my bit of acid they gave me, I saw the bombs coming, I looked and looked for shelter finding an old army fort hidden underneath the sand due to years of no attention to it. I ran inside the thing calling to my friends, "Get in here, get in here nukes are coming!," but they were way too fucking doped out and too disoriented to do even the simplest tasks. I couldnt do a single thing to save my friends that day, they were sitting ducks and I watched as their skin was vaporized, I damn near went blind. I camped out a couple of days in the fort, and I noticed my skin was beginning to peel off, and my voice was getting raspy like I had smoked thousands of cigarettes. I couldnt do anything to stop it, once it was in cycle there was no cure, no miracle, I just had to accept it, and so I did. I became a ghoul, I consider myself lucky; since I wasnt turned into one of those canniblistic freaks. After spending weeks in the fort feeding off of powered foods and some water in the toliets, I resurfaced, luckily funding a Sniper Rifle and Combat Shotgun in the backtrunk of the car we drove out here in. I guess Eddy was going to fuck as all that day, but he never saw those nukes coming. I drifted through the desert for awhile and finally reached a settlement that had come to be only a few days before the bombs hit, all of them where ghouls like me and I considered them my friends, Brad, Chris, and Connor. Everything was fine and dandy in the settlement until some crazed asshole with some weapon that shot nukes came along. The first thing he does is formally introduce himself, which still creeps me out to this day, and then he shoots my friends in the other tent all huddled together, they were trying to get some sleep since we decided we where going to head out tomorrow and try and find some means of transportation over to the East Coast. He then reloads his weapon aiming it at me, but the weapon jams and his face turns to horror as I pull out my trusty Combat Shotgun, Betsy; named after my girlfriend before the war, and I just shot him. As he fell to the ground I thought, "Betsy must've helped me out on this one," I walk up to him yelling and crying, "Bring my friends back you bastard!". I unloaded on every part of his body until it was unnoticable, that day changed me forever and I learned there is no justice in this wasteland; only oppurtinity to get what you want for free. All you have to do is some so called "bad"thing, bullshit there is no karmic standing out here if you ask me. After that I traveled and drifted, and after about 50 years of staying at shady settlements and broken down buildings I found a pre war airport. Now, to be quite honest, I had been there to salvage some old plane parts to make some money and buy some gas for this motorcycle I had found in this suburban guy's house. Wasn't easy getting, I'll tell you that, guy had set traps all over the fucking town, bear traps, pressure plate shotgun to fire extinguisher trap burned a part of my left foot, and one of his mines was activated by a radroach stopping by, almost killed me in the process. Had that fridge not been open at the time, I'd probably be Ghoul Fricassee right now, damn lucky I was able to dive in there. He started taking potshots at me after he noticed his mine went off downstairs. Shot my right achille's tendon, should've been the end for me. Took some fucking lucky shot though, bullet ricocheted off a toaster up there and hit him square in the ass. Heard him yell for pain, then through a frag through a whole he made in the ceiling from shooting at me. Blew him right threw the window, I went out and saw he had fragments in his femur and that bullet still in his ass. Took his nice little AR-15 and chose to let him suffer, blew both his arms off, then put a frag in his mouth. Checked the garage after that, and whaddya know. Guy who owned this place before the Great War must have been a motorcycle policeman because he had a fully decked out patrol bike with pouches to store ammo and whatnot. Looked upstairs, some .223 and 5.56 hollow point ammunition, took it all and stashed it in the bike, moved it into this garage I saw just outside of an NCR settlement. Looked around a bit, found a map in the place, and saw the airport on it. Walked into the settlement and found out some caravan stiffs where heading a little west of where the airport was. They offered me a job, told 'em if I was going I'd be stopping off a bit early, guy says "Offer still stands, full pay, and you can get off where you need to friend." Surprised me a bit, but said "Alright then, thanks bud, I'll be coming along then." Grabbed old Betsy and headed off. We got there in three days, well at least to my stop, that is. Leader turns around to me and says, "Mighty fine doing business with you, er-" "Shane, it's Shane" "Fine doing business with you Shane, here's your pay. Ever need work, come back and find us at the settlement." Gave him a handshake goodbye and went off, climbed the cliff face up there with some iron staples I had fastened from railroad apikes on the way here. Looked back and boy what a view, well, a view only of muddy skies and irradiated blown-to-shit towns, but still a view. Grabbed my binoculars to see if I could still make out the caravan, and I did. Not a pretty sight at all, saw their corpses but could make out the leader defending a tower, setting down traps, mines, grenade bouquets, even saw him lay down a trap on top of a doorway. He filled this bucket with concentrated amounts of nuclear waste, smart guy this leader, forgot to get his name too, what a shame. His attackers looked to be scouts, armed with some dynamite and 7.62 scoped rifles, bolt action. They rushed the building, looked to be three of 'em. All but one got killed by the grenades, he then disarmed the mines, but then he opened the door where the leader was, took a shot, missed, last shot he'd ever take. The liquid flowed down upon him, devouring his skin. But the leader had mercy for the man, and put a quick bullet to his brain. Couldn't believe this guy myself, would've let him suffer if it had been me. Made myself a promise to find him once I was done here and buy him some alcohol and ammo, best combination in the whole god forsaken Earth. After that was done I moved up to one of the hangers, and "Holy fucking shit." I saw this little plane here, and tons of gallons of premium plane fuel, all in pristine condition. Looked at the walls, it had enough protection to last the Great War five times over, heavy duty steel covered the walls, covered by a layer of a radiation absorbing material, lucky for me, I was a ghoul and could withstand all the rads it had soaked up. However, unlucky for me, I had no clue how to fly this fucking thing. Looked around the hangar some more, and found this robot, hadn't been activated yet. Looked relatively human like, with big bulging eyes, and a triangular shaped head. Checked it a bit and found it only needed an activation holotape for it to buzz to life. Then, I hear footsteps. I dash to the plane's interior, and take refuge in this hidden panel underneath the back seats. Hear him enter the door, and hear, him singing "Luck Be a Lady" by Frank Sinatra. Heard a holotape album of his in a Pre-War radio station, man made some classic tunes. He strolls over to behind the plane, and hear him insert something into the robot. "BZZZZZT, initiating skyward flight to, Providence, Rhode Island, making fuel stops at, Yuma, Colorado, and Hammond, Indiana" "Everything seems to be in order, commence action, load up fuel and follow by departure, enact." "Processing... enactment is following." "Oh shit, I screwed the pooch on this one.", I whisper silently. The robot loads the gas up and gets in the plane. The guy sits in the sit next to the robot, shutting both of the doors. I hear the robot fold out some extra armament or tools or something. I hear the clank of metal to the plane's controls, and the whirr of the plane's engine. Then, we fly off, into the irradiated sunset of the remnants of the United States.