» Sat Mar 19, 2011 9:31 pm It has been a few months since there has been a lottery in the vault. My whole life, stories have been told of the days when the bombs first fell. How there must have been a clerical error because double the amount of expected inhabitants had shown up with bags packed the day the sirens screamed. None were turned away, even though there clearly weren't accommodations for all. Even if they were asked to, who would stay above? Who would give their lives so that others would live? This and other vaults were, after all, sold off to the public as a chance to live on- for mankind to live on. Any true heroes bent on saving "the people" would soon be fused with the concrete and metal wreckage above.
When Armageddon was confirmed by the overseer it was clear- there was no going back. No opening of the large cog of a door to excuse the excess populace. Not even when panic set in. Panic over food and water rations, medical supplies, clothing and Pipboys. The panic spread fast and recklessly throughout the vault- a plague of knowledge if you will- The knowledge that no one would stand a chance of survival under these conditions. The seas of people turned angry, demanding answers and solutions from the overseer, who seemed to have very few of either- even as they tore him limb from limb. Infighting broke out between those who wanted to flee the vault and those who feared the radioactive landscape outside, ultimately and ironically destroying the only way to get out from the inside, the overseers terminal. Vast stores of food and supplies, enough to last the 2000 inhabitants half of the 100 years those heavy doors were to be sealed, were seized by the frenzied group. Even though those riots lasted only a short time, a large amount of those supplies had been destroyed, polluting the air with a deeper despair.
The worst was yet to come, however. Roughly one sixth of the men women and children in the vault had been trampled to death during the confusion and greed. The medical level filled up fast with their lifeless bodies. The medical personnel still "with it" enough to do their jobs couldn't move nearly fast enough to dispose of all of the bodies before they began to rot. A putrid stench filled the vault and many became sick- it was discovered some of the dead had been infected carriers of the new plague. The entirety of the vault had become a giant Petri-dish. After enough time passed, all that was left of the overcrowded vault were those who had been born blessed with immunity. Blessed... Ya, right. Small reserves of food and medical supplies would need to last for another 94 years. I hear they would have been lucky for it to last another 20. Would have saved a lot of trouble, had everyone just died out way back when. But procreation continued and a subterranean tribal society formed inside of the living tomb. And then the day they all knew would come had arrived. The day the last of the food ran out. Buried under a quarter mile of rock and scorched city this vault reluctantly turned to cannibalism. Elderly and the lame were the first ones to be recycled back to the masses, but soon children and their parents were all that remained. Thus, the lottery was created- A fair and un-biased way to decide who gets to live, and who would sustain those survivors. It's been 80 years, give or take since the doors closed. Generations have lived and died here. Today, my generation will pass me by. Today is my lucky day- I've won the lottery.
