FSE

Furry search engine

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I am a huge fallout fan and would like to contribute a story based off the game fallout 3. So yeah, if youre interested, read it. If not, deal with it.

It all began with a flash of bright light... In seconds much of the north eastern United States was set ablaze with the evils of nuclear fire and the fall of our government began in one fell swoop.

this would have been a perfect time for communist China to invade but thanks to the remnants of our leaders their plans were crushed. Even so, soon their power dwindled to the smallest amount and corruption took root as the Enclave began to spread to the many hidden seats of power set in place all over the devastated wasteland of a world we now live in.

Soon, with the money of many unknown benefactors, an unstoppable army of mechanized super soldiers arose from the ashes and tried to take over the old seat of power, Washington D.C.

Despite their efforts, they were thwarted by the lone wanderer, a resident of Vault 101, the supposedly forever-sealed nuclear fallout shelter within the well-named Capitol Wasteland.

That was many years ago, this is now.

It is the year 2502 in the month known originally known as October, although now such things matter little to the inhabitants of the Capitol Wasteland. Even though the Enclave threat was eliminated and the bay was purified of radiation life was still hard for a traveler without a purpose, especially ever since the Brotherhood of Steel tried to restore some order to the wasteland through technology.

In the end it became much like a technology driven dictatorship and the Lyons family's eldest was assasinated, leaving the struggle for power to consume the entire Brotherhood. This disarray allowed the Raiders and bandits to form large tribes and conquer much of the land.

Soon even the NCR tried to make headway in the area and their numbers became highly diminished as highwaymen and raiders cut off their supply caravans, leaving them stranded and dieing.

Without law and order, the wasteland consumed itself and became a land of the dead and dieing, where monstrosities beyond even the most veteran of travelers eyes had seen were commited. It became simillar to the early days of the Pitt.

There were no more heroes, the Lone Wanderer had died many years before of unknown illness and his stories had faded to myth even among his people; the vault dwellers.

I'm neither hero, nor fiend but I'm no friend to the people either. I am myself and nothing else.

With black fur faded to tan by the ageless winds of the rolling feilds and eyes as sharp as my knife's edge, claws chipped by years of labor and toil as a slave, a spine taught with the agressive stance of a fighter and legs bent from years of running. I am no one in particular, names are not given to slaves and with only one eye you can hardly tell the difference between faces and words anyway.

I'm silent since in the wasteland the only people who speak are those looking for a sudden bullet to the brain or the capitalists selling their scavenged merchandise in the raider settlements, it's all that keep them from the other fait.

I struggled under the heavy weight of the bolted steel collar around my neck the first few days but soon it became almost part of my collarbone. The technology used to make bombcollars had been lost many ages ago so now the only real threat to slaves was the snipers in the guardtowers around the work yard and they were not known to miss.

I grunted, lifting part of a heavy, metal beam onto my shoulder and with pained steps, lugged it over to where the welders were. My job was simple; move metal over to the techs day after day under the hot sun, having dents and bruises on my shoulders from moving the hot metal and straining for breath as my lungs sighed laboriously with the effort while my muscles hardened and loosened under my light fur.

At the time I still had both of my eyes and had the alert senses of a young coyote, noticing the guards lazy patterns and taking into account how many bolts and locks were on each door, for beyond this imprisonment was somthing better, so i thought.

In reality all i wanted was to simply get the collar off my neck, some primal nature deep in my brain made me hate and resent the peice of metal more than the guards who had clamped it on to me years ago at age 14.

It encaged my mind with a psychological barrier of steel and iron, driving me to near insanity in the early years of toil and sweat. Now the heat and work were a friend, a simplistic form of labor that kept my mind in working order unlike many of the young ones who'd lost it and tried to climb the wall before getting 5 bullets in the back at once. That's correct, five guards in all in different positions and shifts changed often enough for it to never be the same person, making reaction times impossible to calculate; the only flaw in my plan.

I was not the most intelligent in the group of furs working but i was smart enough to keep my mouth shut unlike the young, sarcastic wolf they'd just taken in from farther east by the bays and decaying shipyards.

He learned soon the meaning of "no law, free-for-all punishment", the famous saying among the workers. Basically, the worker who caused the most collateral damage on the person standing out recieved extra meals, water, etc. Although, the water was ground-water and literally no better than muddy, irradiated slop in a glass.

Thing was, everyone watched when the free-for-all punishment occurred and this dumb ass wolf was my ticket out.

As sson as tools were turned on him and blood and excitement filled the air, I climbed into an old airshaft and held in place for three hours, straining every muscle in my body but years of work kept me still as night came and I was deemed dead and unfound.

Bodies were all that accounted when it came to the idea that the person hadn't escaped but luckily some one had died in my place that day and i was home-free.

As soon as the sun wen't down, i began a treacherous climb over the wall and out into the dusty plains of the wasteland. during the day, this was an impossible feat to pull off but since inmates weren't allowed out at night, guards were much more lax and less shifts were taken.

I'd made it clear of the wall and was about two-hundred yards out into the wastes when a shot rang out across the night,. i only had seconds to react and within those seconds, all I managed to do was turn around have a bullet rip through my eyesocket and out the back of my head, sending me whirling onto my back and a few feet closer to deaths door as i cried out and clutched my ruined eye. It had cleanly passed through my head and missed my brain but from the moment the bullet had penetrated I knew I'd never be able to see out of my left eye again.

Out of blind luck, the raiders assumed I'd been a wild animal or dead and had left me to rot instead of venturing out to collect my body. I lay there bandaging my eye as the night faded and the cruel, desert-klike temperatures ravaged my prone form, barely moving as i waited for night to come yet again.

This was only my beggining.