Log One... Recorded Record of Events Messenger Loading
Me, Will, and Jack pulled open the dark, old doors of the ancient subways and began to stride inside. I gripped my assault rifle, ready for a fight. Jack reached into the small container outside his armor and pulled out a flask of whiskey. He opened it and took off his helmet. He drank a deep gulp and shook his head wildly. "Damn!" He yelled out. "That shits fine!" "Really?" Will asked. Jack nodded. "Pass that over here." Jack threw him the flask and the two sat at an old, concrete seat, drinking. "Guys, we need to keep moving," I told them. "Dude, Boar ain't going anywhere. The News will be here in there in the morning," Jack argued. "Yeah, but what if we aren't?" I yelled. "You know these chambers. They're crawling with muties and ghouls and killers. We would be lucky to survive an hour in here, yet alone a day! And that's how long it's gonna take us to reach the city!" "But why are we going there?" Will asked. "I mean, would Boar really be interested in an underground city? I mean, hell yeah Three Dog would be, but we both know Boar isn't Three Dog." "Guys, this isn't just about that!" I pointed out. "How comes there's so many go damn ghouls AND raiders down here. I'm telling you what I told Boar: the raiders are turning to ghouls. That's why they still hold caps and even bullets at times. That's why there's so many. The raiders love it here cuz there's always fools traveling these parts, and those fuckheads turn to the ghoulies." "Well, i say fuck that, we need to shurk responsibilities," Jack said, rising to his feet. "who the hell put you in charge, you whiny little fuck? I know your kind. All NCR and no play makes Johnny a dull boy. We from the Brotherhood have time to do whatever we want." "Fuck you, I told you, I'm not with them anymore!" I yelled. We were loader than any were supposed to be. I was yelling, Jack was now yelling, and suddenly we heard them. Hundreds of swift, nearly silent footsteps coming from deeper within the station. "Shit." Jack and Will ripped open the nearest door and grabed me and hurled me inside then ran in after me. We shoved together into a tiny closet. Jack and Will turned off their flashlights. We all held our breath as we heard them. The howls of the ghouls grow darker and deadlier every time I hear it. Their roar is as powerful as a mutant, and more deadly than a radscorpion's poison. They slid along the walls, listening with their acute hearing for any sound we could make. We heard them scratching the door and walls. Jack felt for my hand, and I felt his clamminess. Above all else, he feared ghouls. Even his hate for my past was put aside by his fear of ghouls. We stayed trapped and scared for hours, until we heard the last of them departing. Only then did we turn on our lights and inspect our surrounding. in the closet was a single terminal, a blood stain, and a 9mm pistol. "Looks like someone gave up in here." Will whispered. He picked up the pistol. He looked over it. His eyes grew wide. "Fuck man. This is serious. Check out the engraving." I took the pistol and inspected it. On the butt of the gun I saw an enclave insignia and a massage inscribed onto it "Long live President Richardson!" "How and why the hell is this doing here?" I demanded of the world. "Richardson was dead when the Enclave came to these parts. Why is this here?" "Well, someone must have brought it, someone from the old times," Jack pointed out. I opened up the terminal and began to check it. "If something like that did happen, it'd be on this terminal." The bypass was simple. One letter: a. There were thousands of junk files, and several maintenance files, but none seemed significant. Finally I found a file: death by isolation. I pulled it up. It held details of this man who slaughtered random cities out in the wastes until he came across a band of Enclave soldiers. He was enslaved and forced to view propagandistic messages displaying the Enclave ad a bunch of liberators and healers. The man was released into the wastes where he found logs of President Richardson, and began to kill in the name of him. He found a 9mm pistol, and carved the Enclave insignia and the message onto it and began to use it. Eventually, he came to the Capitol Wasteland. Here, he emerged from both bloodlust and insanity. He also wished to prevent it from happening again. So he killed himself with the same 9mm pistol he had pledged to and killed so many with. however, this was a brief page and didn't catch my interest. But hidden, in an complex code, there was a file entitled "rEaPeR". I pulled it up. "Day 1 220 subjects, healthy. Radiation levels rising. Lockdown secured. Muscle mass increasing. Skin deteriorating. Aggression rising. They hate the light. No More light, please. I can't stand this! God, why do I keep typing! but this, I feel so... no... my skin... it can't be. The Reaper virus, subject A, as injected in major doses to the subjects, and to us in minor doses. Could it be that perhaps we are subject batch B? Will I die? Control: ///Command///send to terminal xxxerqiii"
Log One... Recorded Record of Events Hunter Loading
I pulled up my rifle and aim it down, towards the main road. A group of raiders were dragging away a girl, but I didn't stop them. That girl was known for shooting men just for looking at her. I'm not for defending men, just innocents. she killed innocents, and now she is being killed. A proper way to die. I was hiding out in an abandoned building several miles from Canterbury, and a little ways from Minefield. I just came from Paradise Falls. Had to deal with that Burke. That scum, bringing back the fucking slavers to our world, he deserved what I gave him. But now, that goddamn Boar, telling people about what I did, it wasn't safe anymore. Times aren't safe anymore. "Hello, up there!" A man calls from outside the building. I aim my scope down at him. He jumps. "Fuck, miss1 What the hell are you doing here?" I put up my rifle. "I'm staying here for now. What are you doing here?" "There used to be a old friend of mine staying here, turning this place into an outpost for trading," the man said. I saw that behind him were two more men and a brahmin hauling goods. He was a trader. "Did you kill him?" "Hell no," I said. "I don't do things like that. But I think I found him. He's downstairs. He was killed by 32 rounds. I only use 308s and 556s." "Oh, well fuck," the trader sighed. I threw him the key to the gate. "What's this?" "You can come in," I told him. "Times are tough. It isn't safe outside. Deathclaws, super mutants, and ghouls are only some of your concerns right now." The trader nodded and the group unlocked the gate and moved inside. I walked down the stairs leading to them. I led them up to the second floor. I nodded at two rooms. "You all can stay there, and your brahmin can stay downstairs. Your friend is down there too. I have my room, and no one bedsides me goes there. If one of you steps a foot into my room, I'll kill all of you, understand?" "Understood, miss," the trader nodded. He smiled. He started to give out orders to his men. I ascended the stairs to the highest floors and stuck my gun out and aimed it down. The raiders were long gone. I checked the other windows. They were out of sight. I aimed towards the burnt city. I could make out big, sulking figures on the horizon. Too far to hit. Damn. One of the guards was behind me, at the stairs, watching me. I set my gun aside and put my finger at my side. The man took another step. I turned towards him. He jumped. "Hello, sir. What can I do for you?" "Well, we've been traveling a while," the man said. He had a hand in his pocket and he eyed my gun beside me. I humored his wishes and picked it up and put it aside. I knew what was next. "And, I feel a little... oppressed. And depressed. And well, needy." One...two...three...The man started for me. He whipped out a combat knife and held it up. "Strip." He commanded. "Fuck off," I told him. I whipped out my side arm and blew his knife out of his hand. It flipped aside. I shot his leg, not because of poor aim, but for fun. Then I walked up to him and put my gun against his head. "Have fun in hell." I blew out his brains. The men downstairs no doubt heard the blast and ran upstairs with their assault rifles ready. "she killed him! She fucking killed him, the bitch!" The other guard yelled. He aimed at me and I shot him directly between the eyes. I turned my gun at the other man, but the other man just leaned against the side of the wall and smiled. "Fuck, miss," he said. He set aside the rifle. "So, Blitz came at you, you killed him, I'm guessing?" Blitz must have been the first guard. I nodded. "Yeah, he was a bad one. Always went after the girls. So, yeah, I'm guessing you are the Hunter?" I nodded once more. "Good. Well, I'm the Trader. Pleased to meet you."