Very simple things here, I can't even call them flaws.




This is something that many people do, and its not an error per say, but it could always be rephrased to be better. I personally take the extra second to think on a synonym because its never good to start two sentences the same way.



As you can see, the highlighted sentence is a little bit off-topic. I'd suggest integrating it better so it floes more with the paragraph, like say . . .

"The blade was woefully inadequate for the job, and had the kill been less malnourished, cutting it open would have been more tedious, but de to its small size, it would be relatively easy."

Or something along those lines.



MIssed one :teehee:.


Now for the good.

I love the fact that he really sticks close to the radio, and finds it comforting although it hasn't been use to him at all really. Kinda reminds me of Wilson from Castaway. Also, I like the realism of all the effects of being stuck in a cave, tiredness, hunger, aches, and these curious flesh wounds...

Also, I'm looking forward to him indulging about his past soon, maybe a flashback or reflection. What did he do to get here? How is Vault-Tec incorporated into where he is, what he has, and what he's doing? Keep it up.

Good job on part five.

Well, personally I wouldn't put that much detail cause it also can mess up the flow, I think a simple

"If the dog had been healthy, it would have been easier."

Or something like that, you want to give enough to show give a reader a clear picture, but not so much that it overloads him.

Anyway, love the story. Seems his health and mind is diminishing and I think he is turning into a ghoul. Especially with whole eating the dog scene, very ghoul like.


Keep up the good work.

I kind of liked the dog bit as written. I'm sure it could be better phrased, but part of the idea was;
A ) The blade is inadequate
B ) The dog is still relatively big
C ) Thank God the dog is malnourished or it would have been HUGE

Something like

"The blade was woefully inadequate for the job. When the dog had been healthy it would have been huge, even malnourished the mutt was entirely too big to carve with a damn letter opener."

Anyway though,

I liked the story quite a lot. I tried to do a Ghoul story a long time ago and instead of doing a story involving the development of a ghoul I just had some guy in a car accident wake up as a ghoul...I wish I had of done it differently now. This is a cool way to watch the character fall apart and degenerate...maybe...

Good work anyway, I'll be giddily clicking on this thread as soon as I see another post.

Thanks for the feedback guys. I'm working on the next few parts now and should have the next instalment posted in the next few days.

With the dog part, I was trying to be subtle in my discription of the dog's corpse. I hoped it would be understood as Mr SmileySmile explained it. I didn't want to say "The dog was still big."

Guess I was too subtle.

Thanks for the suggestion Smiley, I'll edit my post to better discribe the situation.

The story looks great so far, and its amazing this is your first fanfic. I'm guessing he's going through the process of becoming a ghoul? And I like how some parts are slow and some are really fast. Well done, reminds me of the movie Cast Away.

Part Six

David sat on the floor of the office, the radio beside him, hissing away to itself in the chair. He had been feeling steadily worse over the last few…Hours?.... Days? David wasn’t sure. What was left of the dog’s corpse had begun to stink, filling the cave with the sickly smell of corrupting flesh. David wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had last eaten from the carcass. Certainly not since before the animal had begun rotting, he was fairly certain of that. As he pondered this David scratched at another itch, on the top of his head. His fingernails dislodged more hair from Culver’s scalp. This had been happening with increasing regularity and David’s once thick, almost black hair now clung to his scalp in scattered clumps.

The aches in his joints had intensified and lances of agony stabbed through David’s body every time he moved. David wanted to sit in the chair, but since the radio already occupied that spot, Culver had to make do with huddling on the floor beside it. David didn’t really mind being on the floor. The nausea had also worsened. Culver had placed an empty drawer on the floor beside him. It wasn’t watertight, but it would contain most of the inevitable vomit until he was able to dispose of it. David had briefly considered moving from the office into the cave until he recovered. He had swiftly dismissed this idea as it would mean leaving the radio unattended for too long. He could almost picture himself hunched over out there in the dark, noisily puking behind a rock as, for the first time since the bombs had fallen; a voice spoke, unheard, from the radio. “Can’t have that can we?” Culver said to the darkness around him. He turned his head, wincing at the stab of pain the movement caused, to look at the radio “No can’t have that at all.” Another idea, this one even more rapidly dismissed, had been to move the radio out of the office with him. After the noise the radio had made the last time, David wasn’t prepared to risk moving it again. So Culver sat in the corner, in the dark, clutching the empty drawer.

Sometime later Culver lay panting on his side, experiencing a strange sense of euphoria. He didn’t know how long the vomiting had lasted once it began, but for now at least it appeared to be over. He had crouched over the drawer for what had felt like eons, heaving in the dim light cast by the radio’s dial. Every convulsing eruption caused David’s entire body to explode in wave after wave of unrelenting pain. Between bouts of this, David had tried to choke down gulps of water. He had discovered that it was marginally better to have something in his stomach to bring back up. It was at least preferable to the stringy green, bile tasting mess that came up when he was dry heaving. But for now, for now it appeared to be over. The elation David felt was beyond compare. He lay there, exhausted by the protracted retching, panting on the office floor.

Once his breathing had returned to normal David remained in his prone position, almost not daring to move, for fear of sending fresh waves of agony through his body. Slowly David extended his arm toward the chair, testing how long the euphoric sensation would last. The dull ache remained, as did the itching. But the white hot lances of agony caused by his movements had lessened considerably, becoming instead a sharp stabbing pain. It was a definite improvement. His hand eventually found the chair and using his fingers David probed for the mouthpiece. After a while he managed to locate the coiled cable attaching the mouthpiece to the radio. He followed this along until his hand closed around the small piece of black plastic. He stretched the cable across and, still lying on the ground, held it to his lips. “Hello… Hello,” He rasped into the mouthpiece. “My name is David Culver. I work…” David paused “I suppose that I don’t work for anybody anymore do I? Look.. I’m trapped in a [censored] cave. I’ve got no dog left to eat and if it doesn’t rain again soon then my water supply won’t last much longer. If you can hear my voice then please… Please respond.”

He lay there in the darkness listening to the soft, soothing hiss of the radio. As expected there had been no reply. After a while Culver became aware of a foul smell in the air of the office. He slowly turned his head until his eyes fell on the drawer. He had to get rid of that, if he left it like that for long then the smell was likely to start another bout of vomiting.

Slowly David rose to his feet, wincing occasionally as the pain began to return. He stooped, reaching down and picked up the drawer. The foul mess within hadn’t leaked through the bottom of the drawer too much, but now he had raised it from the ground, a thin, revolting liquid began to pour steadily from it. Culver lurched awkwardly towards the door, trying not to spill the contents too much. He fumbled at the handle and eventually managed to get it open. David had managed to stagger out into the cave when he stopped dead in his tracks, dropping the drawer full of vomit as his feet. The impact caused the foul ichor to fountain from the top of the drawer, spraying the door, the cave floor and the front of David’s jeans. Culver didn’t notice any of this though. Behind him the radio had exploded into life. A loud, high pitched screech blared out from the speaker for a second, and then was replaced by a voice. A real, man’s voice “…. You sure you’ve got it…” The voice quietly said “Hey Mike,” it continued, much louder “Doug thinks he’s fixed the handset. Hello… You still there buddy? We didn’t get the whole message. Just something about a cave? If you’re there then please repeat.”

Great installment!! I do not regret not having asked you for the ending, haha.

ooooooh, how fun. It seems we have life at last. A voice. Looks like Davie won't be completely alone anymore. Good read. I'm excited to see if you make the next installment what I think It'll be.

Well he has radio contact[or he's really hallucinating now.] But how many miles away are these people, and would they even accept him as he's half way to the grave or ghoul by now.

This story keeps looking better and better. When are you planning on putting up the next chapter?

I'm diggin it brother man. I really like that you brought in more being, Crusoe was gettin a bit stale, and addition of life is always wonderful, spices things up for certain. I hope they aren't Creeped out by him.

Wow, thanks for all the positive comments guys, I really appreciate it. One of my boys is ill so I just havn't had a chance to get online to add the next instalment (I'm sure that you understand that one Skirt). I will post it after I have posted in True to Caesar.

I understand brother man, look forward to you posts and a healthy child.

I can, indeed! Though I am sorry to hear it. Sick little ones can be so heartbreaking.

What happened here? Come on kettle, keep this going!

I agree!

An update would be most welcome.

Yes I would like more story its a very good fan fic and I want to find out what happens to him

Woah, thanks for all the love here guys. I'm sorry I fell behind with it. I had a few personal problems in RL and just kinda let my fanfic slip.

I'll start working on this again very soon, I really didn't expect people to enjoy it as much as they seem to be. Thanks a lot and watch this space.

Well here it is guys. It's taken me a while to do but here is the next installment. I hope it doesn't disappoint. Please let me know what you all think.

Part Seven.

Culver almost fell into the office as he turned and lunged for the mouthpiece. He landed on his knees beside the chair and snatched up the small piece of black plastic. He held it to his lips and called out, his voice a dry, rasping croak. “Hello... Hello.” David almost shouted over the radio. “Are you there, please tell me you're really there. I haven't heard another voice since.... Since I can't remember.”

“Ha,” The voice laughed from the radio's speaker, “Yeah, we're still here buddy. How many are with you?”

“None, I'm alone out here. I was by myself when the bombs fell. I haven't seen or heard anyone since the bombs fell. I've been alone since it happened. Where are you.”

“We made it to the vault-tec offices in Denver pal. Why're you calling here on your radio anyway?”

“I used to work for them. Before.. Well, before. I'm just trying to find some help.”

“Look no more buddy,” The voice from the radio stated cheerfully “We're going to come up there and get you, right guys?”

“No [censored] way.” David heard quietly from the radio. “You heard him Tim, he's alone and half mad. He isn't worth saving.

“Or course he is.” Spoke the voice that David assumed must belong to Tim, in argument. “How can you say he isn't worth it Doug, you heartless bastard. You were alone when Mike and I found you. You saying that you weren't worth helping either?”

The argument between the two men continued to play through the radio's speaker, increasing in volume as they began shouting at each other. Then suddenly cut off, replaced with the usual static hiss.

“Hello,” David quickly spoke into the mouthpiece, “are you still there? Please don't leave me here, I'm sure I can help you in some way. Please don't leave me.” The last four words were almost screamed into the small piece of plastic as he began to panic. There was no reply.

David dropped the mouthpiece onto the seat and slowly sank to the floor beside it. Tears began to run freely down David's face as the realization dawned on him, the people on the radio weren't coming, He was going to die, alone in the darkness. David lowered his head until it rested in his cupped hands and began quietly sobbing once more.

He had remained like this for almost an hour, the only sounds to be heard were the familiar hiss of static from the radio and David's own hitching breath, then suddenly the speaker blared into life once more. “Hello, you still there buddy? We've talked about it and Mike and Doug are going to come get you OK? We need to know exactly where you are, so you tell us your co-ordinates and they'll be right there.”

“Oh thank you. Thank you so much.” David sobbed into the mouthpiece, he told the men his location, describing the large Vault-tec sign that had been erected above the tunnel mouth. Even informing them as to exactly what was written on the sign, in case they found and explored the wrong cave system.

“That's great buddy, we've got you on a map here. Doug and Mike are leaving the building as we speak, Mike reckons it's going to take them most of two days to reach you. They're coming on foot, to begin with at least. Everyone tried to leave town when the sirens sounded and the roads down here are absolutely choked with cars now. I suppose they might try to pick one up once they reach the edge of town, but for now they're walking it. So, what's your name buddy? How come you're all the way out there?”

David answered the man's questions then asked some of his own. Over the next few hours the two men continued like this. David learned that the man he was speaking with was called Tim McInnery and that he was twenty six, he had been a sheet metal worker before the bombs had fallen. Tim wasn't sure how he had survived, he said he had actually seen the blast. He had been blinded by the flash as he tried to stumble back into the factory. He was still stumbling around inside two days later when Mike had found him. Tim had been led around the ruined city by his hand for almost a week after that until his vision had begun to return.

David had been shocked to hear that it had been almost a month since the bombs had fallen. He had been all alone in the cave for four weeks, if the dog hadn't found him, David would surely have died of hunger. He told Tim the story of how he'd butchered and eaten the rottweiler, when he finished the speaker was quiet for almost a full minute before Tim responded.

“David, I have to ask you a few questions now. Please be truthful with me here, remember that I'm trying to help you OK?”

“Of course I will, I owe you that much Tim. You already have people on their way to help, just knowing that makes me feel so much better.”

“That's great,” Tim sounded a little apprehensive as he continued, “OK, Dave are you showing any of the signs of radiation poisoning? Headaches, muscular pain, vomiting, things like that?”

“God yes.” David replied. “Itching too, I think that that is the worst. Every time I try to scratch myself I seem to stick my finger right in an open sore. There's hair loss too.”

There was a sigh from the speaker before Tim continued. “Yeah, you're pretty sick Dave, but we looted the remains of a chemist a few days ago. If they get to you fast then Mike should be able to dose you up with radaway, provided it isn't too late. Listen Dave, have you been having blackouts at all? Any periods of unconsciousness?”

“Well, yes. A few times. Isn't that something that happens with radiation sickness though? And what do you mean by too late? Too late for what?”

“Maybe nothing Dave, maybe nothing. Like you say, it is a normal symptom of the sickness. One more question Dave, this one is real important, so think carefully before you answer OK. When you come too after blacking out are you always laying down?”

“What? I'm not sure, why is that important?”

“Please Dave just think. When you come to, are you on the floor or are you ever standing or sitting instead?”

“I... I'm not sure. I think that I may have been standing once. I'm really not sure though.”

“[censored],” The curse was quietly breathed, “OK Dave. How do you look? Can you describe what you look like for me?”

“Why? What's going on Tim? Why all the questions?”

“I'm sorry Dave. I'm not trying to worry you here. Best you just answer my questions before I tell you any more. I don't want you to panic if there is no need. So, how do you look?”

Filled with dread and worry David fell upon the drawer he had kicked into the corner of his office. He tipped it over, spilling it's contents onto the ground, before sinking to his knees beside the small pile. He slowly began picking through the collected office junk, looking for something with a reflective surface. Despite Tim's wishes, David was close to panic now. What could be the problem? Why did it matter so much what he looked like? If he was, as both he and Tim suspected, in the later stages of radiation sickness, then how did this man expect him to look?

After a while of searching David's hand closed around a soft leather item, his shaving kit. He had forgotten the bag even existed, he hadn't been concerned with his appearance once the bombs had fallen. Then his hair had began to fall out, rendering the kit even more useless. But he did keep a mirror inside. David pulled the piece of silver backed glass from the leather pouch and held it up before his eyes. The faint glow from the radio's frequency dial was too weak to illuminate the room however and all Culver could discern was a rough silhouette outline of his head.

He fumbled in the darkness for a few moments before he managed to locate his lantern. He thumbed the on switch, filling the small plasterboard room with a weak glow. The batteries were failing fast, but Culver was sure they would last long enough for his task. He held the mirror up to his face again, then dropped it to the dirt floor almost instantly, a horrified scream erupting from his lips and echoing through the caves. What he had seen wasn't real, it couldn't be real. The creature that had looked back at him from the mirror was the stuff of nightmares.

In disbelief, David slowly stooped and retrieved the reflective glass from the floor once more. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the moment he looked at his own reflection again. He gasped as he looked upon the creature that stared back at him.

All of his once thick, almost black hair was gone now. His scalp instead covered with scabs and weeping sores. His eyes, while still the same shade of hazel, were now sunken. Peering back at him from deep, dark pits. His cheeks were likewise sunken, his skin stretched thin over the now raised peaks of his cheekbones. His lips were rotted, pulled back and exposing his teeth in a horrible rictus grin. His skin was the worst. David had always tried to keep himself fit and for many years this had been reflected in the ruddy glow in his cheeks. The creature that looked at him now bore absolutely no resemblance to the face that had been his reflection for so many years before. This, this thing had pallid, almost white skin, mottled with flecks of green. It was covered with the same lesions and sores that patched his scalp. Between these he could quite clearly discern the blood vessels beneath the skin of his cheeks and nose.

Behind him, the radio crackled with static briefly before Tim's voice returned. “Well Dave? How is it? What do you see?”

Great work, kettle. Only punched through the first part, but will try to keep an update on further parts

Thanks a lot Schmuty, I hope you continue to enjoy it and I promise there won't be any more three month gaps between posts. :biggrin:

Its suspenseful, I'm really enjoying it
The dog butchering part, was good, but :yuck: a letter opener, creative. Can't wait for another update, and if Tim is going to call off Doug and Mike, or just have them kill David, ooooo....can't wait

Its hard to believe this is your first fic, great job :biggrin:

A very enjoyable story, you have got my attention. Keep on writing!

Real cool man, keep this thing going.