RK47
collides like two planets pulled by gravity
17 - Forever Alone
Brian, let's not rush this. We can wait for the next caravan run. If you give it a few days, the craving should stop.
No..I'm fine. Really. See? I'm even able to treat Dogmeat's wounds.
Your fucking hands' shivering, goddamit. You won't even be able to fire a gun!
I won't need a gun any more.
Eh?
I grip the spiked knuckles tightly, willing my fists to stop shaking.
Just gimme a few hours to practice...and let the chems wash off my systems. I..I'll be fine. Trust me.
Fine.
My victory against a death-claw was no fluke. I have a weapon in my fists. And that is all I need.
Despite Ian's protest that I should rest, I spent a few hours practising my swing instead.
767, 768...769...
Each swing of the fist is followed with controlled breathing. If it wasn't for the drugs, I'd probably be hell lot sharper by now. But I'm improving.
997...998...999...Huffff....Hah! 1000!
Let's go.
Zzzz. huh?...Oh. Okay.
We left of the gates of the Hub, towards Necropolis, named after the occupants. Ghouls, they call them, control the city. Radiation is high, and there's no telling what they would do to a lone human wandering around their streets.
We're making good progress.
Great. It's dark ,though. Hard to see anything.
The caravan lead suddenly waves his hands, signalling the party to stop.
Up the path. There...looks like humans...wait...ghouls! Get ready, they're not friendly!
Seven of these guys, all wielding knives and spears. Let's hope they're as incapable as they look. The first ghoul drags its feet to get closer at me. I greet him with a cheap shot.
The blow knocks him to the ground.
He's still conscious. I have to put him out.
Sorry.
I knelt over his body and jammed the spikes on his eyes. He lets out a primal scream as his vision failed him.
Dogmeat finishes him off. His enraged comrade rush at me, only to be greeted by a pistol by one of the caravan guards.
Fuck, they're coming at me!
I turn around and realize that Ian is in trouble. Big mistake, the nearby ghoul take advantage of my inattentiveness and thrusts his spear at me.
That's not so bad...Ian, you okay?!
Oof!
Ian caught a thrust right on his side, tearing his jacket.
Four ghouls surround him and took turns. Things aren't looking good, another blow knocked Ian off his feet...he struggles to stand up.
Ian! Use the stimpacks, goddamit!
Ian stood up, dazed and searched for the stims in his pocket, when another ghoul came up next to him and thrusts a knife!
Ian, DODGE!!!
UGH!
The pain was too much for him, Ian fell backwards, this time he's not getting up.
Keep fighting, don't lose heart!
Goddamn it, you monsters!
The caravan lead emptied his shotgun and gets a good hit in.
These bastards are gonna pay for what they did to Ian.
The blow caught the ghoul unprepared. The pain was too much for him and he collapses like a rag, dead.
The ghoul moves on from Ian's corpse and stabs a nearby guard.
The rest starts taking turns, thrusting their spear at Dogmeat.
The caravan lead ran out of ammo and had to resort to his bare knuckles.
Thankfully, his aide is ready to assist and drops the one next to him with a well-placed 10mm round.
I've got problems of my own.
That thrust was good. But keep hitting me, anything but my dog...
Anywhere will do.
The mutant dropped dead from the blow. His friend doesn't take kindly to his passing and gives a forceful thrust with his spear.
Fuck you.
He's out of it. The last ghoul dodges a kick from the caravan lead.
Here, let me make it a little bit harder for you. Cocksucker.
I give myself a running start and wind my right fist back before placing it on the back of his skull. With a satisfying skrunch, the remnants of his brains watered the wastes one last time.
It's over. They're all dead. So is Ian.
You..you did good back there. I'm sorry about your friend, but we've got no time to bury him. More of them could be coming. Do what you have to do. We'll treat our wounds before moving out.
I grip the spiked knuckles tightly, willing my fists to stop shaking.
My victory against a death-claw was no fluke. I have a weapon in my fists. And that is all I need.
Despite Ian's protest that I should rest, I spent a few hours practising my swing instead.
Each swing of the fist is followed with controlled breathing. If it wasn't for the drugs, I'd probably be hell lot sharper by now. But I'm improving.
We left of the gates of the Hub, towards Necropolis, named after the occupants. Ghouls, they call them, control the city. Radiation is high, and there's no telling what they would do to a lone human wandering around their streets.
The caravan lead suddenly waves his hands, signalling the party to stop.
Seven of these guys, all wielding knives and spears. Let's hope they're as incapable as they look. The first ghoul drags its feet to get closer at me. I greet him with a cheap shot.
The blow knocks him to the ground.
He's still conscious. I have to put him out.
I knelt over his body and jammed the spikes on his eyes. He lets out a primal scream as his vision failed him.
Dogmeat finishes him off. His enraged comrade rush at me, only to be greeted by a pistol by one of the caravan guards.
I turn around and realize that Ian is in trouble. Big mistake, the nearby ghoul take advantage of my inattentiveness and thrusts his spear at me.
Ian caught a thrust right on his side, tearing his jacket.
Four ghouls surround him and took turns. Things aren't looking good, another blow knocked Ian off his feet...he struggles to stand up.
Ian stood up, dazed and searched for the stims in his pocket, when another ghoul came up next to him and thrusts a knife!
The pain was too much for him, Ian fell backwards, this time he's not getting up.
The caravan lead emptied his shotgun and gets a good hit in.
These bastards are gonna pay for what they did to Ian.
The blow caught the ghoul unprepared. The pain was too much for him and he collapses like a rag, dead.
The ghoul moves on from Ian's corpse and stabs a nearby guard.
The rest starts taking turns, thrusting their spear at Dogmeat.
The caravan lead ran out of ammo and had to resort to his bare knuckles.
Thankfully, his aide is ready to assist and drops the one next to him with a well-placed 10mm round.
I've got problems of my own.
Anywhere will do.
The mutant dropped dead from the blow. His friend doesn't take kindly to his passing and gives a forceful thrust with his spear.
He's out of it. The last ghoul dodges a kick from the caravan lead.
I give myself a running start and wind my right fist back before placing it on the back of his skull. With a satisfying skrunch, the remnants of his brains watered the wastes one last time.
It's over. They're all dead. So is Ian.