» Fri May 27, 2011 6:10 pm ================================================================================
=====
"I am the Alpha and the Omega. The Beginning and the End."
? Revelation Verse 21:6
================================================================================
=====
The Wasteland's scorching ripples baked the dusty brown soil and rocks of that was once a neighborhood's street in Washington DC. The scarred skeletons of the homes whom possessions and even inhabitants lay the way they were in their final hours before the bombs fell covered each street corner as a haunting reminder of what was to had been Armageddon. Barely anything was intact upon the impact, though one would find a cabinet or safe with any of value.
Far off in the corner, a radroach was scavenging for whatever was, if possible, edible. Roaches. "The only thing that would survive a nuclear war", they've said. So far, this was true, but whomever quoted that statement never thought of the results of surviving that war, now did they? It's segmented, armored legs carried it's body around the ruins of a two-story building.
The living room was stained brown by the dust that it gathered in 200 years. The portrait of a family laid on the living room floor charred and broken glass was scattered around it. What remained safe was only the faces of a man barely in his 40's, his brunette wife, just a few years younger, and their eight-year old daughter with curly blond hair. The three were smiling as they posed for their photograph that summer 200 years ago. If they had seen what was a result of this hell, those smiles would fade in horror.
The roach scurried and pause every two seconds. It's antennae whipped and lashed about as it felt this alien world it has invaded. The extensions rubbed about on a hard and crisped surface: the skeleton of a little girl with her parents holding her after they told one how one loved the other before it happened. To a human, this was a grief-striking reminder of what happens when power is what one desires over all, but to a roach, it means no meat to strip off and decide to search somewhere else.
A few yards away, a silhouette perched on a rock, staring out into the brown crusty sea that is the Capital Wasteland. It's eyes then focused on a series of bangs and booms and dust clouds a few hundred yards northeast of it's position. It's time to go.
War. War never changes. Since the dawn of humankind, when our ancestors discovered the killing power of rock and bone, blood has been spilled I the name of everything from God, to justice, to simple psychotic rage. In the year 2077, after a millennium of armed conflict, the destructive nature of man could sustain itself no longer. The world was plunged into an abyss of nuclear fire and radiation.
But it was not, as some had predicted, the end of the world. Instead, the Apocalypse was simply the prologue to another bloody chapter of human history. For man has succeeded in destroying the world, but war, war never changes.
In the early days, thousands were spared by the horrors of the holocaust by taking refuge in enormous underground shelters known as Vaults. But when they emerge, they had only the hell of the wastes to greet them. All except those of Vault 101. For on that fateful day, when fire rained from the skies, the giant steel door of Vault 101 slided closed and never reopened. It is here, you were born, it is here you will die. Because in Vault 101, no one ever enters and no one ever leaves.
