Jack came home to horror…his small settlement of dilapidated shacks had been set aflame. The harsh smell of burnt wood and flesh assaulted his nose, and his eyes were greeted with chaos. Crimson red blood silently marched towards his heavy boots. Villagers that Jack knew all too well were crawling away from the burnt buildings while flames licked and tore at their bloodied limbs. “Jacob.” Jack silently whispered as he hurriedly clambered through the remains of the settlement. “This is what it must have felt like when those bombs fell so long ago…” After mere minutes Jack found his younger brother, who had multiple bullet wounds deep in his chest and scarring burns that ravaged his body, but for the most part he had fared better than the others. Jack collapsed to his knees and clutched his poor brother’s torn wrist. “Wh…who um…did this,” Jack whispered, then raised his voice, “Who Jacob! Who did this?!” Jack tearfully yelled at his brother.

“They came from the West…in...injured one. The others…Gone, into the East, always into…the East.” Jacob gurgled and choked. He spat and crimson ichor splattered onto Jack’s face. His brother’s life slowly faded and was now gone…Jack examined his late brother. Jacob had always been more handsome than Jack-who had a slightly crooked nose and bedraggled and unkempt hair with a closely shaven beard, and sullen and withdrawn eyes telling sad tales. Jack was lean and thin, while Jacob had broad shoulders and was very muscular. Quiet tears silently rolled down Jack’s dirty cheeks and swept away grime and bitter thoughts from his mind…He sat, brooding when at last he looked a fraction to the right to see a trail of blood that lead all the way to the deep wasteland. “This is what it must be then, isn’t it.” A large pre-war rifle of American origin awaited Jack; he was always fascinated by how the ancient 200 hundred year old weapon had been able to work after so long. It was 2279 and the relic had survived the Great War-where tens of thousands of nuclear weapons had launched and caused atomic apocalypse. He brushed away his wonder and prepared himself for his grim pilgrimage ahead. He silently put on worn armor that had been patched over many years of use and wrapped a red tattered cloak that had been passed down from generation around his neck and over his shoulder. On his way towards the wastes he found a half burnt picture of Jacob and grabbed it and stuffed it beneath his scarf. He pulled down his goggles and pulled up his makeshift balaclava over his mouth and nose, and set out towards the boundless wastes of post apocalyptic Mojave Desert.

Far in the horizon Jack noticed a small cloud of smoke permeating indifferently from a group of black dots.
“On the blood of our fathers.” Jack muttered tonelessly as he skinned an irradiated cactus fruit. The small fruit was tart and sour, and Jack only found it mildly appetizing-but growing up by living off the land had given him the knowledge that it was filled with water and sugar and vitamins. After finishing off the fruit Jack pulled out a pair of binoculars from his shoulder bag. From a far distance it appears that there were only a few people in the camp on the horizon, but with a trained eye and an even sharper eyed pair of binoculars such a mistake would be foolhardy. As the orange harsh sun submissively retreated into the horizon Jack prepared himself for his tragic duties ahead. He pulled a heavy bladed clip point knife out of its sheath and flipped it over a few times, sheathed it, and slowly got up to exact bitter revenge.

The encampment was fairly small, and had a single large campfire in the center with a couple drunken raiders nearby, but there were four guards evenly spaced out, although one seemed a little bit tipsy and was a weak spot in the defense. As the guard went to relieve himself Jack forcefully grabbed his hair, threw the raider to the ground, then kicked him in the jaw and stabbed him deep in the chest twice, forcing the knife’s blade through the heart and lungs. As the raider spat hatefully at Jack he wiped the blood from the blade and kept himself from vomiting. The two other guards were dispatched rather easily, their throats slit without disturbance, but the final sentry’s death was catastrophe. Jack’s unease and nerves made him thoughtless and he foolishly stabbed the guard in the back of his lower neck. Instead of dropping to the ground the guard screamed loudly and pulled at the knife. Jack tried yanking the blade out but to no avail, and had to snap the man’s neck. By then it was too late, as the entire camp heard the sentry’s scream. Within seconds the raiders were upon Jack, and he dove to a fallen tree trunk, as bullets pierced the tree Jack counted the bullets being fired, he made a guess what gun it was and when he heard an echoing silence he rose from the tree and fired a heavy round into the raider’s arm. Blood sprayed and bones splintered and flew. The man crumpled to the ground and Jack took a deep breath of guilt. The second man was cannon fodder and blindly rushed at Jack, and was met with hot lead in the chest. Then the final raider-who must’ve been the leader-judging from his age and his scars, came bursting from his cover and shot Jack square in the arm with a rifle. In a yell of hate Jack shouldered his rifle with one hand and blew the legs out from under the leader with a shot. Jack limped over to the leader prepared to end his existence, when he heard a barely audible whisper “Why?” the older man said with sorrow, “What have we done?”

Jack kicked the man in the ribs and shouted, “You came from the West, you razed my settlement to the ground, you slaughtered the innocent,” and then sobbed regretfully “and you killed my brother.”

The old man chortled sadly. “You are mist..mistaken, we have lived here..50 years…then. Those things came, din’t stand a chance. Only sev’n left of us, they killed many. Took some. Now only me left,” The poor man’s eyes drifted slightly to the left and he grimaced “An’ soon I ought to be gone…” With that the old man peacefully closed his eyes.

“No…No. no no no, it can’t be. That’s not fair…it’s just not fair!” Jack wept.
Jack found a rusty pair of pliers, stuck his knife in the fire and ended up having to dig the bullet out. After vomiting he propped himself up against a shack and drifted into sleep.

Later that morning Jack continued East…Driven by hate and grief he traveled the windswept dunes. After days of wandering he finally came to a rocky outcropping. To his left he heard a scratching sound and found a massive bipedal lizard-like creature with claws that could disembowel a man, and a body larger than Jack. Atop this creature’s body was a head with unblinking white eyes and an almost demon-like face with a narrow snout and large horns. This creature snarled and lunged at Jack, its massive claws tore through Jack’s armor and into his chest. As it prepared for another strike Jack grabbed his rifle and shot at the creature, but the shots only glanced by it and enraged it. As the creature slashed a third time Jack shot it square in the chest and the bullet met its mark. The creature roared and whimpered, but then in a twist of fate lowered its head dismissively. The monster slowly backed away and walked into the dunes defeated, Jack sighed heavily and prayed the twisted demon wouldn’t stalk him in the night.

After Jack’s encounter he wandered East and soon came upon a small box canyon with a large encampment, filled with dark green colored humanoids with bulging, twisted, grotesque muscles. These creatures were abominations, and after watching them Jack concluded they were dim creatures…But much too violent and strong. As Jack watched them he saw a grim sight. The creatures butchered human slaves they abducted from the settlements…Jack knew he must eliminate them and slid down the slope of the canyon…No compromise, he must kill these creatures quickly. The one mutated human rushed at him with an oversized concrete club, and Jack shot him in the head, blowing his head apart in fragments of gore and skull. A second creature screamed distortedly and swung his large sledgehammer towards Jack, but Jack sidestepped and blew off the creature’ hand. Jack's rifle made a "ping" and its clip shot out. In a scream of rage the brutish creature clumsily swung his hammer with the remaining hand and Jack prepared to finish him with a shot to a head but ‘click’ was the only sound heard, Jack ducked and threw his weapon to the ground, yanked out his knife and crammed it into the creature’s ribs. As the creature reeled backwards Jack tackled it to the ground and slammed its head backwards into the hard rock. The brute was stunned, and Jack grabbed his knife, and instead of pulling it out, he thrust it even deeper into the creature until his hand was jammed into the brute. The creature growled and whispered in a gravelly tone “Never stop us….” Jack pulled his hand and knife out of the brute and heard another greenish monster chuckle maniacally. Jack turned around prepared to fight the brute, but it was frozen, with its twisted face scrunched in horror, Jack then saw it start to bleed, and then saw claws violently burst through the monster’s skin, then the monster howled in horror and was torn in two. As the red blood splattered the ground sickly Jack looked up with horror as the creature he wounded days ago stared at him with its unblinking eyes. The Deathclaw-as it will be now referred to growled and turned around to ferociously maul other mutants. For some odd reason Jack found himself chuckling, the first time in quite a while, but after a few seconds he regained his composure, he knew he must focus on the task ahead. Then remembering his empty rifle and cursing his luck he fumbled for a clip in his shoulder bag and jammed it within the rifle.

On his way towards the camp Jack saw the damage The Deathclaw wrought. Limbs filled the ground, and a thick layer of blood coated the canyon floor, but at the far end of the canyon Jack saw three mutants left. These must’ve been the elite few that survived the Deathclaw. All these mutants had plasma weapons, and one mutant had what appeared to be a large caliber automatic rifle, disturbingly the abomination was integrated into large powered armor, and external veins and walls of mucous coated it. This mutant had a large distorted head with no nose and had no skin on his lower jaw. Large straps held his upper lip in place as if caught in an eternal snarl. This creature growled hatefully and spun up his chaingun while the other mutants ran at Jack. The one mutant ended right in front of Jack and Jack messily blew the left side of its skull off. The other monster fired off multiple rounds of viscuous plasma while he yelled incoherently, and then jumped at Jack, but Jack was too quick and back stepped, and the monster slammed its jaw against the gore laden ground. Jack flipped the creature onto its back and jammed his rifle against its eye and pulled the trigger. That only left the mutant boss. Who laid down heavy fire. Out of the corner of Jack’s eye he saw the Deathclaw creep up behind the mutant. The brute must of heard a sound because he turned around to see the mutated reptile just in time to duck. The mutant attempted to raise his chaingun but The Deathclaw swatted it aside like a toy and bit the mutant in the shoulder, tearing off a large chunk of flesh. In a temperamental rage the mutant rushed at The Deathclaw and knocked it out. Jack screamed uncontrollably and crashed into the mutated human. As the monster got up Jack unloaded three shots into its back, but most of the shots just bounced off the armor plating. Jack unsheathed his knife and slashed the mutant in the arm, but the mutant punched Jack in the stomach, knocking him off his feet and sent his head crashing into a rock. Jack’s vision ebbed and flowed with occasional bursts of color and all around him his world granulated and black crept from upon the fringes of his vision.

“Wake up, time to die!” He heard the mutant gurgle forth. With that Jack clenched his teeth and kicked the creature’s legs out from under him. The brute hit the ground hard and Jack wasted no time getting his shotgun. He propped the shotgun against the mutant’s forehead and spat on the mutant.

“I’ve finally found you…Do I appear familiar? I should. You killed my brother, and now you shall meet him soon…” Jack said bitterly. He pulled the trigger. ‘Click’ The mutant grimaced, and then laughed…Jack flipped the shotgun over and held it by the barrel and smashed the mutant with it. The mutant then laughed hatefully.

“You’ll never kill me! I serve Master! You human would never kill me!” The mutant yelled triumphantly with its broken sentences

Jack looked up, turned around and left. He looked back…. “Maybe so, but he will.” Jack pointed and smiled drily…The mutant looked behind him to see The Deathclaw. The creature wrenched off the mutant’s arm and picked him up, and halfheartedly tossed the creature’s body into the walls of the canyon like an abused ragdoll. The Deathclaw looked up at Jack and grunted half-heartedly. Jack then climbed out of the box canyon sick and tired of conflict and war.

Jack’s footsteps hardly made a sound in the empty wastes, he found in his pocket a picture of an all too familiar face, he frowned and threw the picture to the ground. It then fluttered like a lonely leaf driven by the distressing wind that kindly caresses the Earth, and tapped the sand like a lone chair that taps against the side of a wall in autumn. Uncertain of what lay ahead, Jack sighed with resignation, he walked into the windswept dunes, across dried lakes of salt, he headed East, always into the East…

Spacing.

I couldn't read it because it was entirely too hard to read as one big block. You've got to space it out so people can compartmentalize it. It makes it easier to read and easier to comprehend.

I did like what I read though, up until he finds a rifle.

AHHHHH! My eyes!

Just messing with you, but some people hate huge blocks of text. Break it up into small paragraphs. Otherwise no one will read it cause it makes it too hard with so much text next squashed next to each other. Check some other fanfic(Lords of the Pitt) to see what I mean.

Everything looks ship shape, but please space it out so I can read it and give you an accurate review. Please. It will take less than five minutes of your time, I assure you.

What Yttrium said, it was hard for me to read and I lost track of what line I was on..
I will reread it in a bit.

Thanks guys. Transferring the file really screwed up some things. Most notably (As said) spacing

Yeah, when I was making my fan-fic (my older verison of it.) It screwed up the spacing.

So I decided just to make another one in 10 minutes and post that instead.

Alright, now it seems I can't use the tab key... :cryvaultboy: Precious tab key...I will miss you...

Oh and this was done for school so it was kinda' watered down, but I just wanted to see what you guys thought...

I'm moving right now so I can't quite finish it, but I like it.

Nice twist with the raiders, I scanned over the DClaw part quickly and saw theres a mutie coming up soon.

Good stuff man.

The only suggestion I'd offer is to take your time as you go forward. A lot is happening in a single, albeit long, post.

Keep it up though. Perhaps consider joining The Warren, New Manhattan, or True to Caesar. All three are doing quite well and seem to have plenty of room. True to Caesar is kind of new but already doing great, New Manhattan is in it's 6th thread but still very welcoming to new comers, and The Warren is kind of in the middle.

Any of the three would be a fine choice, as would just continuing on your own with this fan fic. I'd recommend doing both.

:celebration:

Thanks MrSmileySmile for the suggestions....I was thinking of continuing my story, and then my character MAY meet up with characters in one of the other fanfics. That way I could ease my way into one of the roleplays.

No, you can't but there is an indent button on the box your replying in, it's on the right.



Pretty good story, still needs a little spacing and there are some issues, noticeably after he picks up the rifle.

You say that he found a picture of his brother? On his way towards the wastes. So as he is leaving his flaming settlement he just happens to find a picture of his brother? I would think it would make far more sense if he just had it, don't you? I think the story would flow better and make more sense if it was so.

The advantages to a cloak like that are slim to none, so I think in latter chapters you should elaborate on it, could provided a good way to get background from a character without straight telling it and allowing for some more...character development.


Why would he mumble that why peeling a cactus fruit. Seems kind of pointless and made go "why"? That just causes the flow to be chalky as opposed to smooth. You should have also just put it in italics and left it as a thought also, it would make more sense, give my eyes a rest, and I think make the story flow more smoothly.

But regardless, be careful what you put it in, some things may just distract the reader. And correct me if I'm wrong but I believe you peel cacti fruit, not skin it. Just me being nit picky. Wait, no you can skin it. Sounds more right if you peel it to me though.



This would have been the perfect time for some monologue to help develop the character by reveling his emotions(seething anger) as he abstractly messes with the knife as he day dreams of stabbing them repeatably. Otherwise it's pretty much pointless.



And the raider still manage to spit at him? Well, I was lead to believe that direct penetration into the heart would cause instant death. I know this based off a video game, but be careful how far you stretch reality less it make the story to ridiculous to read. For the same reason you might want to change the neck stab into a back stab too add a better sense of "realism".

I like what happens next, because he didn't deserved to die and the main character was mistaken. But then...he continues to search. And he seems to kill things that he believes to have killed his family with no real conviction to back it up. Legion members, Super Mutants, Fiends, Vipers, Jackals...How does he know who did it, he was just operating on a simple guess and check system

*Stab*

"This for killing my brother.."

"I...I don't even know you!"

"My bad."

This first time it made for a great chance for some character development but you blew past that chance and had continue with his fool hardy quest and as it stands, Jack is missing out on depth and emotion who might want try connection him with the reader in the next entry.

And, I know that it may seem like I'm bashing you a lot. But that just means you can improve even greater, blow us away next chapter...

-Just my advice by the way, there are plenty more people on this site that are far more qualified to give it out then I, so you can take it or leave it.

As I said, this was for a three page (I used about seven) short story writing for a seventh grade class. Not much room to operate under, and oh I always believed you could survive a little when stabbed in the heart (30 seconds?)

Maybe your still technically alive, but I doubt he would have enough energy to spit at you and combine with a lung stab he would be pretty much good as dead.

I have heard some people call it skinning and some people call it peeling, and I made Jack pull out the knife and look at it to make it seem as if he is getting prepared for the battle ahead, because I wanted Jack driven by revenge, not blinded by it. I'm not a fan of creating bloodthirsty berserkers that dream of stabbing people. I created the whole raider sequence to sum up the irony and tragedy of the fallout universe, that being that the human nature's driving emotions and lusts and vices are what leads them to catastrophe, and with that I say this one more time.....This was created for a seventh grade class

I understand that, which could be accomplished by some monologue like I said, that's your image of him, but how the hell are we suppose to know. Taking out the knife to symbolize the battle ahead is fine and dandy, but we still can't tell his emotions, you have to show them to us.

And by the way he was acting I would assume he is in fact blinded by revenge, killing people based off the fact that their heading east is a very blind tactic. You never showed any concrete reason why they would be attached to the murder, and yet Jack kills them no questions asked. Berserker in my mind.

Oh, I didn't get that this was for a seventh's grad class...But wait, it still doesn't matter. Your grade doesn't restrict your writing potential, and the things I'm saying are just basic stuff. If you were in seventh grade when this was written that is no excuse to re read and edit/improve it and if your still in seventh grade then this just some more tips that might help later.

I'm not using it as an excuse, what I'm trying to say is that I stretched the rules for my assignment, and watered it down so that it would be okay for the class. If you wish for me to rewrite the entire story to the fullest of my potential then I shall, and I repectfully disagree with your opinion on age doesn't matter, because as you grow older you learn more and recieve more experience. When I uploaded this all I wanted to do was to see if some people enjoyed what I wrote (Or at least saw potential within my work) so that I could decide whether to continue this piece of fiction.

Fair enough.

But it does indeed have potential and that's why I was giving the advice, so you could use to take it further.

Do as you wish, you run the story.