A Fallout Universe Ghoul's Origin Story
#WritingContest
(Reposting, since I deleted after thinking I put it in the wrong place.)
There's the door. I need to get it open. Who knew needing the mop and bucket to clean up after some kid puked on the floor would save my life. Seems the closet here was sturdier than I'd have given it credit for. Damn it! Open, you bastard! I said.. open! Whoa. I guess I'm stronger now. I think I bent that door. Doesn't matter. I can get out now. Good Gods, that sun is bright. Wait, the sun? There should be a whole hospital here. But there's.. rubble. Nothing but rubble. And my closet. I was right and they finally hit that big, damn, red button.
Okay, forget the mirror. I've got worse problems. Everything is gone. I need to find food, water.. a standing building that isn't my janitor's closet.
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It's been a week now and I haven't needed to eat, drink, or sleep once now. Maybe I don't need to. Whatever happened to me seems to have done that. Had to have been the radiation. That's my best guess anyway. How it did this, but killed everyone else is beyond me. Well, most everyone else. I guess I'm trying so hard to forget seeing those.. zombie things that I'm actually succeeding. If it all weren't so horrible, I'd be laughing that those mindless beasts seem to be wearing medical staff uniforms. But it's too real. I haven't seen a single other soul still in possession of their mind. This keeps up, I might just join them. I don't know how much longer I can go without *talking* to someone. *Seeing* someone. The bomb seemed to have fallen downtown. Right on top of that damned metal bean! At least I figure it did. That's where the center of the crater is. Either way, that eyesore is gone. Damned shame it had to take everything and everyone else with it. I'll head west starting tomorrow. There were caves just on the other side of the Mississippi, in Iowa. Maybe someone made it there. Maybe someone survived.
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100 years! It's been 100 years since those bombs made me immortal. Hahaha.. I used to hate it so much. Horrified at first. Now? Now, I can be whomever I want! These smooth skins don't know a damned thing about the world before the war, except what I tell them. I could be Elvis. Not that they'd know who Elvis is. Damn it. But I could be! I could be the king of Asheland! Not that they'd know what a king was, either. Doesn't matter. They eat it all up. At least the ones who don't try to kill me. Those who go that angle find out how good you get at staying alive for a hundred *freakin'* years! You get real good, let me tell you. I guess I am telling you. And by "you", I mean me. You don't live that long without going a little crazy. But kings are allowed to be a little crazy.
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200 years. Damn it. Kill me. I thought it was sooooooo great when I found other people still alive. Not anymore. No, sir. Stay the *fuck* away from me. Not one of these squishy meatsacks knows shit about shit. Oh, but boy do they all think they do. Some have started worshiping the bombs and their radiation! Worshiping it! It's a whole damned cult! Call themselves the 'Children of Atom'. One of them called me 'Touched by Atom'. Left him curled up on the ground, clutching his gut, after my fist "touched" him. Others now parade around inside restored war machines, stealing anything that even resembles technology, while claiming it's for our own good. Like we really are children. Thing is, between the rad worshiping yahoos and the tin cans, I can't tell who's dumber. All I do know is both want to keep us all in the second stone age here. Just one wants to nuke us all to Hell and back again, while the other wants to take away anything more complex than a flip lighter. Nah. I'm just going to head further west and see what Vegas is like these days. Hopefully people out that way are a bit more sane. Ha! Who'd have thought to put those two things together? Vegas and sanity. We'll see. We'll see who else that war left behind.
(Reposting, since I deleted after thinking I put it in the wrong place.)
There's the door. I need to get it open. Who knew needing the mop and bucket to clean up after some kid puked on the floor would save my life. Seems the closet here was sturdier than I'd have given it credit for. Damn it! Open, you bastard! I said.. open! Whoa. I guess I'm stronger now. I think I bent that door. Doesn't matter. I can get out now. Good Gods, that sun is bright. Wait, the sun? There should be a whole hospital here. But there's.. rubble. Nothing but rubble. And my closet. I was right and they finally hit that big, damn, red button.
Okay, forget the mirror. I've got worse problems. Everything is gone. I need to find food, water.. a standing building that isn't my janitor's closet.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
It's been a week now and I haven't needed to eat, drink, or sleep once now. Maybe I don't need to. Whatever happened to me seems to have done that. Had to have been the radiation. That's my best guess anyway. How it did this, but killed everyone else is beyond me. Well, most everyone else. I guess I'm trying so hard to forget seeing those.. zombie things that I'm actually succeeding. If it all weren't so horrible, I'd be laughing that those mindless beasts seem to be wearing medical staff uniforms. But it's too real. I haven't seen a single other soul still in possession of their mind. This keeps up, I might just join them. I don't know how much longer I can go without *talking* to someone. *Seeing* someone. The bomb seemed to have fallen downtown. Right on top of that damned metal bean! At least I figure it did. That's where the center of the crater is. Either way, that eyesore is gone. Damned shame it had to take everything and everyone else with it. I'll head west starting tomorrow. There were caves just on the other side of the Mississippi, in Iowa. Maybe someone made it there. Maybe someone survived.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
100 years! It's been 100 years since those bombs made me immortal. Hahaha.. I used to hate it so much. Horrified at first. Now? Now, I can be whomever I want! These smooth skins don't know a damned thing about the world before the war, except what I tell them. I could be Elvis. Not that they'd know who Elvis is. Damn it. But I could be! I could be the king of Asheland! Not that they'd know what a king was, either. Doesn't matter. They eat it all up. At least the ones who don't try to kill me. Those who go that angle find out how good you get at staying alive for a hundred *freakin'* years! You get real good, let me tell you. I guess I am telling you. And by "you", I mean me. You don't live that long without going a little crazy. But kings are allowed to be a little crazy.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
200 years. Damn it. Kill me. I thought it was sooooooo great when I found other people still alive. Not anymore. No, sir. Stay the *fuck* away from me. Not one of these squishy meatsacks knows shit about shit. Oh, but boy do they all think they do. Some have started worshiping the bombs and their radiation! Worshiping it! It's a whole damned cult! Call themselves the 'Children of Atom'. One of them called me 'Touched by Atom'. Left him curled up on the ground, clutching his gut, after my fist "touched" him. Others now parade around inside restored war machines, stealing anything that even resembles technology, while claiming it's for our own good. Like we really are children. Thing is, between the rad worshiping yahoos and the tin cans, I can't tell who's dumber. All I do know is both want to keep us all in the second stone age here. Just one wants to nuke us all to Hell and back again, while the other wants to take away anything more complex than a flip lighter. Nah. I'm just going to head further west and see what Vegas is like these days. Hopefully people out that way are a bit more sane. Ha! Who'd have thought to put those two things together? Vegas and sanity. We'll see. We'll see who else that war left behind.