Starting another fan fic. My first wasn't really a success, but I'm hoping I can get at least a few readers on this one. The story of a ghoul, just wanting to live. his anger gets the best of him, and the bigotry of most people. By the way, this take place in the East Coast.


Chapter One: You Smoke Too Much.

The old man let out a wicked cough.

"Maybe you should drink some water." The kid at his side said.

"Oh, no, no, no. I'm fine."

"If you say so. If you need anything just tell me, okay?"

"Got it, thank you young man."

"So where did that terrible cough come from, anyway?"

"Ah, smoking over the years. I've been smoking since I first left the Vault."

"You smoke too much."

"I know, I know."

"So, you never told me what Vault you came out of. Come to think of it, you haven't even taken off that mask since we first met."

"The mask? I was caught in a fire when I was a boy. My skin practically melted away."

"I'm sorry to hear that, what about the Vault?"

"Vault Twelve."

"Twelve? Isn't that where those filthy Ghouls come from?"

The boy heard the sound of something small hit the ground behind them. He turned his head to inspect, and saw a little blue pebble on the ground. He turned back to the old man, but was forced to the ground by him.

The man had one hand around the boy's neck, and the other was used to pulled off his mask. The man's skin was rough, dry, and flaking. He pulled his right hand up, and struck the boy in the face.

He let go, and the boy crawled from under him. He struggled to get up, but when he did he didn't look back. He jumped for the door and bolted outside.

The Ghoul stood in the room, breathing hard. He dropped the mask out of his hands and look back. He jumped through the weak window and sprinted for the border to the city.

'One more place I'm not welcome' he thought to himself.

You seem to have posted this same topic twice. Try to avoid doing that..

I noticed that O_o
I didn't mean to, in fact I don't even know how I did!

You probably accidentally clicked post topic twice, which would result in two of the same topics.

This looks pretty good. No spelling or grammar mistakes that I noticed, so that gets a 5/5 for me. The story itself was a 4.5/5 (because nobody's perfect )

Please continue this. It appears to be something I would definitely follow.

I'm not really feeling emotion from the characters, there is also a minimal use of description, which makes it confusing. I'm not sure if it's this short because it's the first chapter or because all your chapters are the same size as this. Just slight errors in punctuation, such as the first line. Keep writing and improving on your story.

Woo, and so the story begins.


Chapter Two: What's Gotten Into Me?

The Ghoul opened the door to his friend's motel room.

"Donnie? Never thought I'd see you in Necropolis again!"

"People don't like us, what do you expect? I've tried to live in so many places, but those damn bigots get the best of me. Some kid called Ghouls filthy. I couldn't hold back, and well, I knocked him to the ground."

"They'll never get us. We're different, and they don't like that."

"You're right. It just, it just make me so angry. It's not our fault we're like this."

"I know. But us Ghouls here in Necropolis can blame those bastards at Vault-Tec."

"Yeah, Jeremy, I was there. We've been friends since before the War. Remember that."

"I'm still older, and I'm still very smarter." Jeremy smiled.

"You definitely are older! Too much older, you're getting senile, old man. If you're anything, it's not smarter."

The two exchanged laughter and Donnie's sarcasm.

"So what brings you to Necropolis?"

"It's been too long, I just wanted to say hi. You're my oldest friend, we go too far back."

"Too true, too true." Jeremy laughed. "Ah, I know what this calls for."

Jeremy walked to his bed and opened the night stand. He pulled out two bottle of Whiskey and passed one to Donnie. Jeremy held his glass up to Donnie.

"To ninety four years of friendship."

"And to many more after!"

Donnie and Jeremy tapped glasses and smiled as they drank their Whiskey.

Donnie opened and closed his eyes when he woke up on the floor. He sat up and bent his neck in all directions, popping it many times. He stood up and looked at Jeremy's bed, which was empty. Donnie looked through the drawers until he found a piece of paper. He grabbed a pencil from the table and started to write a letter.

'Jeremy, thanks for the great time and whiskey. Sorry I passed out, hope my being here didn't get in your way. I'll see you soon.

-Donnie'

Donnie stood up and walked out the motel into the hot Sun.

"I've been in the Sun too long." He said to himself.

He made his way to the entrance of the town, and he left the same way he got there. He examined the map on his Pip-Boy 2000. He sighed when he saw how far away Junktown was.

"Junktown is my last chance to live with normal people." He said to himself.

Donnie put a hood over his head, and tightened it with the string around his hoodie. He lifted a bandana over his mouth and nose, then he finally but dirty goggles on, covering his entire face.

Donnie was just a few hours into walking in the desert when his stomach growled. He saw something in the distance, and figured it to be an animal. He followed it to get a meal.

When he got closer to it he could make out a human body crawling on the ground. He half walked half ran over to the crawling man on the ground.

"Damn, are you okay?"

He man turned on his back, "Does it look like it?"

"I don't have any water, but I can take you to Necropolis. It's just a few hours away."

"No way am I getting anywhere near a Ghoul, buddy. I'd rather die then drink their poisoned water."

"Ghouls are people too! It's not their fault they are the way they are. They can help."

"I already said no! I don't want any Ghoul scum to touch me."

"What's your problem! You're going to die out here if we don't get-"

"Listen! I'm not going anywhere near a [censored] Ghoul!"

Donnie felt a sense of rage fall over him. He pulled down his bandana to expose it mouth. He smiled and showed his fangs.

The man started to panic, and he tried to get up. But he fell right back down.

Donnie hissed and growled. He jumped on the man and ripped away at his throat. The man struggled with Donnie, trying his best to get him off. But Donnie kept feeding off of the man's neck, until finally killing him. Donnie finally realized what he was doing and he flew back on the ground, sitting up and starting at the corpse. He looked at the Sun for a second then looked back down. He covered his mouth again and ran away.

'What's gotten into me?' He thought to himself.

Old Fallout references! Don't see that often. I liked it! Keep going.

Sounds like he's going to join the Family eventually

Interesting so far.

Thanks you two

Well, as the Chapter Title reads, this is the end of Donnie's sanity. So, yes, the story title is a bit of a contradiction.


Chapter Three: Becoming Feral for Dummies; And The End of Donnie's Livelihood.

Donnie hit the ground and rolled on his back. He put his hands halfway over his eyes and stared at the hot Sun. The Sun can do crazy things to people who spend most of their lives under it's heat. Especially Ghouls. Lost time spent in the desert can eat away at their brains. More radiation poured on top of their already ruined bodies make their condition worsen.

"Endless Walkers" are perfect examples of what's happening. "Endless Walkers" were Ghouls that were banished from The Reservation in New Mexico. They were stripped of all possessions. Food, water, weapons, clothes. All of it gone, and they were forced to wander the Wastes. After countless hours in the Sun, and being exposed to radiation, they finally went crazy. They have no ability to reason.

Donnie was becoming Feral. Just like the Endless Walkers of the New Mexico city, The Reservation.

He caught his breath and stood back on his feet. He put his hand on his forehead, and shielded his eyes from the Sun. He looked in all directions, North, South, West, East. He saw nothing but the typical sand dunes, dead trees, rocks, and cacti. He looked to his Pip-Boy 2000 and moved his hands to press a button. But it wasn't there; just wires sticking from a hole.

He sighed, and looked around one more time. With that; he wandered. Not knowing what to do; not knowing where he was.

Donnie woke up, hungry. He lifted his arms in front of his stomach, and left his wrists limp. He stretched his neck out and an awful stench stung his nose. He sniffed a few more times, then couldn't stop. He started to love the rusty smell. Donnie slowly limped in the direction of the smell.

After just minutes of walking, the source of the stench was right under Donnie. He looked down and saw the rotting corpse of a Giant Molerat. His lip twitched as he bent over to take another sniff of the corpse. He opened his mouth, and hissed, he shoved his face into the animal carcass and started to bite and tear the skin and meat of the animal.

He heard a crack, and he looked up from the corpse to see a Wastelander standing with his son. The man and son both had hunting rifles, they clenched their weapons tight as they backed away from the Ghoul.

"Stay back! I wont hesitate to shoot you!" The man called out.

Donnie tried to run away, but he could smell their fresh blood. Despite his struggle, he took a step forward. The man lifted his weapon, and pushed his son away. But Donnie didn't care, he kept toward the man, until his limp walk turned into a run. He hissed and growled, until finally pouncing on the man as he shot.

A bullet hit Donnie in the side, but he was too obsessed with feeding off the hunter to care. The man under him threw his arms up to try and throw the Ghoul off. But Donnie overpowered him. He opened his already bloody mouth and bit the man's face. The hunter started to yell, and Donnie tried to stop. But his hunger bested him. The man stopped moving, and Donnie looked up to his son, not so far off in the distance.

He screeched at the boy, until he dropped his weapon and ran. Donnie looked back at his feast, and dug his face in.

dude svcks to be him, nice story

Chapter Four: This is Gonna Hurt, Like Hell.

Donnie laid on his back just a few feet from what was left of the hunter's corpse. He was watching the sky turn black, and the stars come out from hiding. He sat up straight and looked at the body. Something was different, though. Instead of the area surrounding him being pitch black, it was more of a bright blue color. He could see perfectly, just with a tint of blue.

Donnie held his hands out, and looked down on them. He could already see they were getting smaller, shriveling almost. He pulled up his sleeve and noticed his arms were still the same, muscly arms he's always had.

He stood up, and shook his head. He rubbed his eyes, shut them tight, then opened them again. Still blue, his hands were still small and weak looking. He knew exactly what was happening. He spent too much time trying to live a peaceful life in the Sun, and now he's becoming the exact opposite of what he wanted.

Necropolis

Donnie walked to the ruins of Bakersfield, now known as Necropolis. He went to the motel his friend, Jeremy, was staying.

'To think I was here, just a day ago. Just fine.' Donnie thought to himself.

He knocked on the door to Jeremy's room until his friend answered.

"How can I help you?" Jeremy asked, confused.

"It's me. It's Donnie."

"Donnie!? What's happened to you?"

Donnie let himself into Jeremy's room and sat down on his bed, "You were right, I spent too much time out there. I'm changing, slowly changing...." Donnie felt a wave of sadness crash down on him as he was telling Jeremy what had happened.

Donnie's nose started to twitch. He smelled something close, it was a smoothskin. To Donnie, smoothskins had a smell that made him hungry, and he wanted to feed off the source of the stench. But when Donnie was near another Ghoul, he didn't get anything but the smell of greasy skin, and dirty clothing.

Footsteps came from outside the door, until stopping right in front of it. Jeremy hadn't realized, but Donnie could hear them. The stench grew stronger, and Donnie knew it wasn't a Ghoul outside. Donnie jumped up and started to back away from the door, he only took a few steps back until hitting the wall. Someone started to knock on the door. Jeremy turned to the door, and went to open it.

"No!" Donnie yelled, shaking, trying to stay back.

"What?"

"You're friends with... With a damn smoothskin?"

"How did you know?"

"He's at the door. D-DON'T open it!"

The knocking on the door got louder, and a voice came from the other side. "Hey! Jeremy, I hear you in there. What gives?"

"One second, Jon." Jeremy turned back to Donnie. "What's going on?"

"I can.. I can SMELL him!" Donnie grabbed his head and looked down, shaking uncontrollably.

"Oh sh-" Jeremy turned back to the door and yelled, "Jon, get out of the motel, g... go to the bar. I'll see you there."

"Like Hell, I'm coming in." Jon ignore Jeremy, and opened the door.

As the door cracked open, Donnie leaped, but was stopped by Jeremy.

"Jon, God dammit! Be some use and get me the red box in the closet."

Jon stood there for a moment, until Jeremy yelled at him again.

"Now, Jon, NOW!"

He went to the closet and started to push all of it's contents inside until uncovering a large red box. He grabbed the box and dropped it next to Jeremy. Donnie was still trying to fight, and get away. He was watching Jon the whole time, with a starving look in his eyes.

"I'm a bit busy, Jon? Get my the syringe with the minus on it."

Jon did as he was told and pulled out the syringe. Jeremy took one hand off of Donnie and used it to snatch the needle away from Jon.

"This is gonna hurt, Donnie. Like Hell."

Jeremy shoved the needle into Donnie's chest, right into his heart, and pushed the liquid contents into Donnie's body. Donnie gasped for air, until he let out a breath of air, and closed his eyes.

Jeremy got off of Donnie, and sat on his bed.

"Good thing Donnie isn't the strongest. Or that could've been bad. Worse than it already was."

A lack of responses has resulted in this being requested to be closed.

I will just remind everyone that people spend time and effort in writing a story and it would be good to see plenty of constructive replies. If you are a fan fiction writer, call into someone else's thread, it will encourage them to go into yours and that way everyone gets to learn more about writing.