I got this idea from reading ghost story books. You know how they go, short stories gathered up into a collection and all put into a book. Why don't we all try to hatch some fallout themed ghost stories or cautionary tales?

This isn't really a fanfic and you can contribute your own story.

Rules:

1. Fallout themed or at least something post-apocalptic themed.

2. Conveys a message of warning, or scares, or even one of those joke scares. Come up with your own insane/chilling tales.

3. Does'nt have to be a 3 page post, these are of course campfire stories and not a novel.

4. Redefining an old popular story to fallout theme is fine.

5. Be creative and have fun.

I'll be posting in awhile one of my ideas. Let me know your ideas on this and if you think you'll be able to contribute to the collection.

Interesting idea. I've never been that good at writing...aw hell I'll give it a try. After eight playthroughs I'm bound to have a good campfire story laying around somewhere.

Hrm...I think I'll present it as if it were an audio log from my character. Oh, and possible minor spoilers if you haven't completed Fallout 3 and it's DLCs.

Begin log. Date: Dec 23, 2278 6:32AM. Title: Northern territory scavenging notes and other assorted ramblings from a Vault exile in DC.


Yesterday, I was exploring out in the wastes, far north-west of civilization. I wasn't really on any sort of mission or anything, just out scavving. You never know what kind of cool stuff you'll find in those old safes. Sometimes I find worthless junk. Dirty pre-war clothing, lunch boxes, soggy cherry bombs, things like that. Sometimes you even find the people who owned that property before the war, still on the bed. But once in a while you find some bottlecaps, or an old rifle, some bullets perhaps. Even three .32 rounds and a .32 Pistol are worth taking as they'll sell back in town. At any rate, it was fairly dark, about 8:30PM or so, and I was just in my own world up to my shoulders in an old safe when I hear this wierd noise. It kinda sounded like the sound the wrappers on those TV dinners sounds like if you manage to find one that doesn't turn to dust after all these years, but louder. It's hard to describe, but I swear to god I will never forget that noise for the rest of my life. I turned around and 'bout leapt out of my skin. There, rushing towards me, was a pinkish-white scorpion the size of a car! I had heard of these things before, back in Megaton. Stockholm told me about them, and Jericho said he fought one during his raider days. I thought they were both simply spending too much time at Moriarty's, seeing things due to that rotgut poison he calls booze. I was quite wrong, though, and here was the proof trying to sting me. Despite having the element of surprise on me he still lost. Cost me two hundred rounds of ammo, but I dropped his ass and went back to scavving once my heart stopped pounding.

A few hours later I had scavved my way east, to the remains of what my PipBoy claims is Olney, Maryland. I've been there once before, on a mission for the Brotherhood, so I knew there were some critters of unusual size in the area. But it wasn't the deathclaw that caught me out last night. Nooooo, it was an Enclave patrol. They are quite hard to see in their dark colored power armor at night, pretty much all you have to go by is the glow of their plasma weapons and, if you're lucky, their helmet's eye glow. Their COs are easier to see, since they dress in fairly brightly colored uniforms, but this time the CO was obscured by something in the camp. Needless to say I didn't see them until it was almost too late. I had to scramble behind some rocks and cover the screen on my PipBoy just to avoid getting shot. Once they gave up on the search I crawled atop the rocks and pulled out a sniper rifle. One...two...three...and a sentry bot?! I decided I needed a better position, so I made my way into Olney and up ontop of a half-demolished apartment building. Up here the Deathclaw wouldn't be able to reach me, thank goodness. I got myself set up nice and cozy and once again peered through my scope.

I needed a plan. There was no way I was going to win this battle if I didn't think it through. Just blindly sniping away will quite possibly get me killed up here. Or at least stranded, should the deathclaw defeat the Enclave. They may not be able to get up here but I'll need to come back down eventually, and they will likely figure that out. Anyways, I decided my first target would be their CO. Firstly, the dummy wasn't wearing any sort of armor, and secondly with the CO dead they would be a bit confused. Not much, they are quite well trained, but any bit of confusion will help. I'm far enough away on this rooftop that they won't hear the shot until after the guy goes down, and hopefully they'll be too busy looking at him to figure out where the shot came from. At the very least the Sentry Bot will be in mid-turn and, because those things are so heavy, momentum should keep him spinning long enough for part two. My next shot, should the sentry bot behave itself, would be to it's combat inhibitor. My rifle just can not penetrate a power helmet unless I get a real good shot at a visor, and even then it's not a guaranteed kill. Nor can I, for that matter, snipe the Sentry Bot. But his miniguns and rockets will make short work of his buddies, and his combat inhibitor is shielded by a pretty thin piece of sheet steel that you can puncture with a combat knife if you're strong enough. Bit of an oversight on the part of the designers if you ask me, putting such a vital bit of electronics in such an easy to damage location. But it saves me a lot of trouble. If my aim is true and everything lines up, I should be able to take out the whole team sans one robot with two .308 rounds. Part three involves dealing with the sentry bot. I think for that I will use some of the Olney locals to my advantage. They're going to be attracted to my position first, by the gunshots. So will the bot, for that matter. But then their attention will be drawn to the bot as he slaughters his buddies. Hopefully the deathclaw whittle the bot down to nothing, while the bot does the same, and whoever wins is a one-shot affair.

I think I waited on that rooftop for two hours before they all lined up right. I fired two quick shots. The first one found it's mark, right in the face of the CO. He went down, and I didn't see a single bit of movement. Quickly I acquired my next target and fired. That bullet hit the combat inhibitor, but it didn't quite frenzy the Sentry Bot. Dammit! I managed to hit the shield yet not damage anything underneath it. Somehow. With a .308. Luck was with me, however. The bot didn't turn around right away, due to momentum most likely, and I got a third shot. Bingo. Predictably, he made pretty quick work of his buddies. Then comes the scary part. He started coming straight for me! I was starting to panic a bit, I thought perhaps the bot had logged my location and was simply dealing with local threats before deciding to come after me. But to my relief he wasn't, as part three of my plan was falling into place without me even having to try. A deathclaw, predictably enough, was attracted to my general location by my fire, then to the sentry bot by his. He had a bit of a fight with the bot and eventually won, but I could tell he was quite badly wounded. Looking around I noticed that lone deathclaw was the only one out, so I decided to snipe it. One in the neck, because their skulls are way too hard to penetrate with a .308 from this far away. He dropped, apparently so worn down by the battle with the robot that my single .308 was all it took. Relieved that I wasn't about to hug a deathclaw, I crawled down, looted the Enclave soldiers as their armor and weapons will fetch me a pretty cap back home, and made my way back to Megaton.

The trip home was fairly uneventful for being a night-time trans-wasteland trip. Only two mutants, a bloatfly and a pack of dogs. Thank god I didn't run across any more of those huge rad scorpions. I got back into town at about 6:30 in the morning, put my new junk on the workbench for repairs after I have a nap, petted Dogmeat a bit and laid down. I never thought I'd be glad to see this flea infested sheet of springs again, but I tell ya it's comforting to be in your own bed after being caught out in the wasteland like that. When I wake up I'll have to fix up that armor and those guns. Hopefully I can get them nice and shiny before Moira closes, as she put in an order for any nice armor/weapons I could find. Who knows, I might even catch a bit of what, before the war anyways, they used to call "Christmas Spirit". It is the right time of year, after all, and I'm sure she'd love a huge discount on that power armor. I normally charge a thousand caps a suit, but I think I might just give it to her on the house. She is quite the pleasant person to be around, after all. Whole world has gone to hell and yet she still has a positive outlook on life. It's a welcome change from most other people 'round here.

Who knows, perhaps she will tell her other friends, they will tell theirs, and it will spread around the wsteland that some people still care about other people. Maybe even have a Christmas cease fire, like I read about in the Vault historical record? I'd love a chance to sit back, have a beer and chat with some Talon mercs without having to worry about them trying to tear my arm off and beat me to death with it. I'm sure they have interesting stories to tell. Most likely so do the uglies, for that matter. Dumb as they are they still have the ability to talk, and I'm sure they'd love to chat a bit, Harold had quite a bit to say about his dealings on the west coast, and Jericho has many war stories from his raider days. Uncle Leo was also quite full of tales. Fawkes, oddly enough, didn't remember all that much, but that's likely an artifact of him being trapped in that cell over the years, never really let out into the world. At any rate, if those people have interesting tales so would those other factions.

Aww who am I kidding...nobody in this wasteland would stop shooting one another over centuries old salisbury steak and old bottle caps just because a certain day rolled around. Especially because of a tradition that happened almost four hundred years ago and faded out about as quickly as it showed up. Oh well, a girl can dream, can't she?

Once I'm done with the trading here I think I'm going to make my way back north. As I was heading east I noticed a rather large Super Mutant compound at what used to be Roosevelt Academy. I think I'll go clear that place out and see what kind of goodies I can find there. At any rate the muties will prove to be good research for Vargas. Perhaps with enough samples they can find a way to reverse FEV or something? Some weakness perhaps? I don't know. I best cut this short. My PipBoy is starting to get a bit warm and I think Dogmeat is hungry. I had best go feed him something. Either that or someone's at the door...



END OF LOG

The Claws of DEATH


The four Raiders had walked miles to the place that was said to be a settlement. What was supposed to be a settlement was a small group of burning shacks dressed in blood. At first glance, it appeared that someone made it there first. But, at a second glance, they could see movement behind a cluster of trees and bushes.
The Raiders equipped their weapons and cautiously approached the figure. They turned the corner to find not a Wastelander, or another Raider, but a giant beast with claws as long as a baseball bat. They screeched in terror when it lunged at the first Raider, shredding him into three large portions. The other Raiders dropped their weapons and charged the other direction. The monster ran extremely fast and caught up.
It swung both arms out and caught the second Raider and pulled him in close. He squealed before getting his head chewed off. Luckily, the other two Raiders were able to get away while the beast feasted on its Thanksgiving dinner.

The Raiders fell on the ground, catching the attention of the guards. They ran over and dragged them into the canyon until they woke up. They eventually did, and were questioned by other Raiders. They asked what happened, why they had ran the whole way, and why they were covered in blood. All that they could spit out was 'CLAWS OF DEATH'. They wouldn't stop shouting it, and eventually one of the Raiders shot the third surviving Raider in the head. The final Raider shut up, but wouldn't talk ever again.


Three months later, the Raider went insane and committed suicide by jumping off of the Evergreen Mills Foundry's roof.

I'm still working on the camp fire story :blush:

so some wasteland humor to start with

Why did the deathclaw cross the road?

What's black and white and red all over

How many ghouls does it take to screw in a light bulb?

A raider, a ghoul and a BoS trooper walk into Paradise Falls..

How do you know if a behemoth's been raiding your fridge..

How do you know if two behemoths are raiding your fridge?

How do you know if four bhemoths are currently on a raiding party in your fridge?

How do you win an argument with a ghoul?

Old Andy-

A raider, a ghoul and a BoS trooper walk into Paradise Falls..
Spoiler
Sorry. Didn't get further than that. But I just know there's a joke in their somewhere


FunnyFunnyFunny. I personally don't think it needs a punchline. :laugh: