Fallout 1. Chapter 1

Hi, so first bit of fanfiction, please review even if it is negative. Set 40 years after the events of Fallout 3, I do not own any rights to the fallout universe or it's characters. Enjoy.

**Chapter 1: The prodigal son.**

Visiting the old guy was always hard, even though he still had that famous old sparkle in his eyes something... something was missing, Luka had known him for pretty much as long as he could remember, and while he wasn't around for the glory days he still knew the lone wanderer for some of the best years of his life.

The lone wanderer had found him living in an upturned bus on the edge of the DC ruins. His family were killed in a super mutant attack that he couldn't remember; afterwards he spent almost a year scavenging through the ruins living off of whatever he could. Soon he got snapped up by raiders who used him to defuse mines. Most of the time they let him creep over and try to disarm them himself. Sometimes they just threw him onto the mine and stayed to watch the fireworks, luckily, Luka had a habit of only landing on dud mines. That lasted for a few months before Luka gained an affinity for explosives and snuck a bottlecap mine into the campfire. He stayed to watch the fireworks. Afterwards he went back to scavenging; the Lone Wanderer found him and offered him a place to stay in megaton. Nothing in return, well, almost.

The lone wanderer had been around 40 by the time he found Luka, world weary but still fighting the good fight, tough as he ever was but unfortunately, after a large dose of radiation in the project purity control room, completely infertile. Luka was effectively his adopted son. The lone wanderer (or Dad, to Luka) had taught him everything, how to shoot, hide, behave. Every night he would tell him tale's, his search for his father, the downfall of the enclave. Other stories that, although Dad would insist were true, Luka still would not believe, Dad had once told him he had been abducted by aliens, Luka knew he was just trying to be funny. Luka got all sorts of junk, from crude homemade dartguns to a 44. Magnum that he carried to this day. Of course the best gift he had gotten was deadmeat, or dogmeat, depending on what you saw him as.

One birthday Dad had given Luka deadmeat. He used to be called dogmeat, but age and too much radiation had ghoulified him. It was a medical marvel, the science teams at project purity had run numerous test's on the only ghoul dog in the DC ruins. Deadmeat had retained his mental and motor functions. In fact the only thing that had degraded was his ability to retain fluids. Many old dogs have this problem however it does become an issue when these fluids are glowing green irradiated dog urine. Now on the eve of his twentieth birthday Luka couldn't help but wonder what sort of surprise Dad had in store.

Luka's train of thought was interrupted by the sighting of megaton on the horizon. The walls had been built up somewhat over the years as more and more settlers moved in. Not surprising really, everyone wants to live in the safe presence of the Lone wanderer.

Luka had been in Rivet City for almost three months, a long time for Luka who wasn't the sort to stay in one place for too long. But the money down there was good. Luka had been making plenty of caps hunting mirelurks for their delicious meat. Not many people had the resolve to hunt such dangerous creatures but Luka had discovered that a railway rifle was an effective method of putting them down. Their armour clad joints got locked up if you fractured their thick armour with a railway spike, slowing them down and turning their natural defences against them. Still, he realised that he hadn't visited home in some time, he knew Dad would be ecstatic for his return.

Approaching Springvale Deadmeat gave out a low, guttural growl. Luka ducked and took cover along the wall of a burnt down ancient house. Drawing his 44. Luka surveyed his surroundings. He knew Springvale well, this, being the closest uninhabited location to megaton it had been where Dad had trained him in all the necessary skills he would need to survive the DC ruins. Luka looked for anything out of place, Deadmeat crouched behind him and growled quietly. Behind a pile of rubble Luka saw movement, he slowly raised his weapon, lining a shot at whatever would poke it's ugly head out.

Luka fired off a round, his arm bending under the force of the recoil, there was a crack, the top of the rubble pile exploded in a cloud of dust and gore. As the echo died out the sound of gunfire was replaced by silence. Luka waited for five minutes, staying completely still. Until Deadmeat calmed down and raised his one remaining ear, giving the signal for the all clear. Luka ran over to the rubble pile, behind it lay a dead mole rat with a hole the size of a baseball in it's head. Luka let out a sigh, picked up the mole rat and headed along the road. The word "lunch" crossed his mind more than once as he finally allowed himself to acknowledge the hunger he'd been feeling.

There was a knock at the door, The lone wanderer looked up from his workbench and yelled into the kitchen.

"Fawkes... the door"

"I'm coming, hold your horses old man" Came the deep and menacing voice from around the corner. Admittedly it had been a bold move to allow the tame super mutant to live in Megaton with him, but the lone wanderer held a certain amount of sway in town, and the residents had grown accustomed to him over time. Fawkes bent under the doorway wearing a kitchen apron, The lone wanderer laughed out loud, seeing an eight foot tall monster wearing an apron cracked him up. Still, even though they had to do major extension work on the small megaton house in order to build him a room of his own, and his strength sometimes meant him breaking things, The lone wanderer couldn't care less, fawkes was his best friend, loyal to the end, it would seem.

Fawkes opened the door and bent over to see under the frame-

"Sheriff Harden, fancy seeing you here", The sheriff, a spitting image of his father, and still wearing his regulators leather coat was taken aback by Fawkes's oddly sweet greeting.

"Evening Fawkes, umm, is he in?"

"Of course he's in, the old dog never moves" Fawkes let out a deep laugh "I'll get him now".

"No need, I'm just helping Luka with his mole rat" The lone wanderer heard his adoptive sons name.

"Luka's home? My god, Luka come in, let me see you" The lone wanderer wheeled himself away from his work bench and towards the door where the sheriff and Luka were struggling to carry a dead mole rat past a super mutant, with a ghoul-dog snapping at the moles dead corpse. It was quite a sight, he smiled, thinking 'I never got to see this shit in the vault'.

"Oh give it here puny men" fawkes grumbled, picking up the rat with one giant green hand, Deadmeat had grabbed on to a leg and was now dangling underneath the rat, growling as he was lifted off of the floor by the super mutant.

The lone wanderer's laughter grew and grew until it turned into frantic coughing, the cough went unnoticed by all except Luka who detected something wrong with his beloved father.

As the chaos subsided Fawkes retreated to the kitchen with the mole rat, Deadmeat ran upstairs in search of wadsworth, the household Mr. Handy. Not finding him the dog sat at the bottom of the stairs and cocked his head, confused.

"I bet your wondering where the robot went aint'cha?" Dad questioned the dog, who responded by poking his tongue out of his half decomposed cheek. The lone wanderer laughed and sat back in his chair, he was over 60 now, a miracle as far as wasteland life spans go, even more so considering all the bullet holes, scorch marks and radiation burns that riddled his old and frail body. Luka looked up from his ice cold nuka cola and gave the old man an inquisitive look.

"Hehe, that old bucket of bolts was losing his touch, his circuit fried and tried to give Fawkes a haircut. Didn't end well for Wadsworth"

"So what did you do with him?"

"Used him to replace the motor in that old cola machine, I was tired of warm soda, and his terrible jokes"

Luka sat up in his seat and put his feet on the table, his dad pointed to his filthy shoes and they were swiftly removed. Luka spoke to avoid being yelled at.

"Your looking good". The old man bellowed with laughter, once again his raspy lungs threw out a slew of phlegm and other substances.

"Don't try it, I look awful, my legs finally gave up a month ago and my shoulder's giving me grief again"

"Old battle wounds acting up that's all" Luka said quickly, hoping to avoid the conversation

"It's more than that son" he said, his usual cheery persona abandoned. "I'm Dying"

A long silence followed. The noise of Fawkes butchering a mole rat downstairs was not enough to detract from the icy atmosphere of the room.

"But you knew that didn't you?... That's why I haven't seen you in six months"

"They needed-"

"Y'know, I never took you for a coward"

"They needed me in rivet city"

"What were they being overrun by those mirelurks you were hunting? Hmm" Luka went silent.

"Yeah I knew you were there, and what you were doing, my old friend Harkness kept tabs on you for me, so, what, what is it you were doing that was so important? Or were you just too scared to come back and look a dead man in the eye?"

Luka had nothing to say. So he went upstairs to bed, he could hear the old man chuckling to himself downstairs, the chuckle turned into a deep rattling cough.

"Dad" Luka whispered to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

So after a couple of much appreciated reviews I got the second chapter finished. I know it lacks pacing and any of you readers looking for some action may be disappointed but I felt I just had to set a tone. Please keep the reviews coming and I'll keep the chapters coming. Thanks.

**Chapter 2: The last spark of a Dying fire.**

Luka looked up into the evening sun which burnt lazily through the smog. The rims of his goggles grew sweaty, he removed them and wiped his face down with the sleeve of his jacket.

"Focus" said Dad who could see Luka growing bored. Luka pulled his goggles back up and looked over the ghost town of Minefield.

Dad had brought him here to teach him how to scavenge safely, apparently a deranged sniper used to live here who had taken a shot at Dad.

"There's no-one in this god- forsaken hellhole who hasn't taken a shot at Dad" Luka grumbled to himself as his father cheerily continued his ranting.

"Damned fool opened fire on me just as I was approaching this car, I thought he was just an awful shot but it turns out he was trying to blow up the car I was hiding behind" The lone wanderer let out a chuckle, it often confused Luka just how he came to be so happy, even when under fire. The young Luka's arms were struggling under the weight of the hunting rifle that he carried awkwardly; it was almost as big as he was.

"So what do you see?"

"Well" said Luka "there are four houses, loads of junk and it smells bad"

"No shit Sherlock"

"No it's not shit, more like dead stuff, and what the hell is a Sherlock?" Luka looked towards his father, the man was in his late forties, grey hairs streaked across his scalp and a heavy set pair of crows feet had rooted themselves over his eyes, eye's which still contained that famous fire of the lone wanderer, hero of the wastes.

The Wanderer chuckled, "You gotta look further, you gotta know what's going on before you just dive in, that's how you get yourself killed, What do you see?"

Luka focussed, looking at the minute details of Minefield. He remained silent for five long minutes before he spoke up.

"Aha, there, just behind the..."

"no no" said the wanderer. "Show me, don't tell me"

Luka lined up the makeshift sights of his hunting rifle and chambered a round. Breathing out, like his father taught him, Luka fired into the ground just in front of a dead bush that had no business being in the middle of the road. There was a small, but audible click, before the frag mine beneath the bush exploded, sending red hot shrapnel and pieces of rubble over the road.

The Lone wanderer let out a wide grin. "Congratulation's kid, you just survived another day in the wastes"

Luka woke with a start, his hand darted automatically to the 44. That rested underneath his pillow. The wailing of a super mutant has that effect on people.

Luka got dressed and went downstairs to find out what Fawkes was whining about, just as he opened the door, Maggie Creel was on the landing, ready to knock on the door that Luka had just emerged from.

Maggie was an orphan, same as Luka, and around the same age so naturally they had grown up as friends, but something was different about her today, something was missing.

"Maggie what's up? What's Fawkes yelling about"

"Luka..." It was then Luka Realised that Fawkes wasn't shouting, he was crying.

"Maggie what's going on" before she could speak Luka had pushed past her and was halfway down the stairs when he caught his breath.

Fawkes was on his knees, his massive green hand lightly holding the frail and withered hand of the Lone wanderer, who sat motionless in his chair. Sheriff Harden stood over the body holding his hat to his chest, Deadmeat lay by the old man's feet with his ears pinned to his neck, whimpering to himself. The air was cold, and the light breaking through the rusted walls of the house shone onto the pale face of Luka's father.

The Lone wanderer, was dead.

"Fawkes found him this morning, he woke the rest of us up, you must have been out cold to miss it."

Luka suddenly found himself unable to bring words to his mouth in any other form then a whisper.

"I had a long trip home"

Sherriff Harden put on his hat and made his way over to Luka.

"Son you don't need to see this, I suggest you go out, get some air. The funeral will be tonight"

Luka silently slid past the sheriff, opened the door and stepped outside.

"C'mon boy" Deatmeat stood and followed Luka over to 'Gob's Saloon'.

Gob had been around when the lone wanderer had first left the vault, he was a slave back then, but ghoul slaves tend to out-live their masters. And although Gob had no right to inherit the bar, the locals knew it would piss off Moriarty no end if he did get it. Moriarty wasn't to popular in town, Gob got the Bar.

Luka sat in an armchair in the corner of the bar, a glass of whiskey that had been filled up one too many times rested on his lap. Deadmeat sat by his feet, unmoving.

Gob, after sitting behind the bar and watching Luka drink himself into a deep sleep, decided to try and get the filthy whiskey glass from the drunks hand. Approaching him like a sheep would a lion Gob edged forward until he was in grasping distance of the glass.

"Touch that glass Gob and I'll put a bullet in your kneecap"

"Hehe" Gob wasn't quite sure if Luka meant it or not "Just trying to clean the place up, although, it seems dead in here today" He almost choked on the word 'dead'.

"Everyone's probably getting ready for the party of the year, bastards".

"Don't be like that kid, their gonna say goodbye to your Dad best way they know how"

"Well so am I". Luka poured another glass of whiskey.

Once the sun went down, all the lights in megaton were switched on, and the sky lit up like a nuke. All the residents of megaton were gathered, many in the centre of town, many more watching from the balcony's and runways that interlaced Megaton's walls. In the very centre, laid underneath the bomb that he defused all those years ago, was the lone wanderer, Dad.

"_God I remembered defusing that bomb, I was a kid fresh out of the vault, hell I only said I could defuse it to get into Megaton, I doubt these people would be so grateful if they knew how close I came to blowing this town sky high, I had no idea how to defuse an atomic bomb haha—"_

Luka smiled remembering his Dads words as clearly as the day they were spoken. The priest of the Children of atom was reciting something from their bible, the crowd remained silent, tears on their face's reflected the hundreds of lights. And as the speech came to a close, the lone wanderer was placed on a pile of wood laced with magnesium. A bright piercing light, and he was gone. His last spark.

"Here's to you Dad". Luka went inside to pack.


	3. Chapter 3

Third chapter, time to kick the main part of the plot into gear. Thanks for the positive reviews, they keep me writing this stuff. Keep them up and I promise you more chapters. All the best.

**Chapter 3: Will and testament.**

The lone wanderer carefully wove his way between the abandoned vehicles of the dead highway. Passing each car told it's own tale of the drivers fate, some were burnt into their seats, noting but shadows and scorch marks, others lay as ash in the foot wells. Using cars as cover was always a tactical decision, whilst their numbers along the road made it easy to move from cover to cover, any well equipped wastelander would have enough firepower to detonate the fusion cells within the engine, engulfing the car and the Lone Wanderer in a mushroom cloud.

It was dark now, and the Wanderer was finding it difficult to distinguish shadows from potential threats, and while he could face down an entire enclave patrol, he was still afraid of the dark. He wasn't twenty one any-more.

Deciding to find a place to rest for the night the Lone wanderer approached an old supply truck, through experience he knew that they often held many rewards for scavengers, and a good place to hole up if it came to it, as such, he wanted to be sure the truck was uninhabited. The Lone Wanderer crouched and circled round the back of the truck, then, as slowly as he could, raised his head to peer into what he thought would be the inside of a supply truck.

However the barrel of a 32. Calibre pistol looks surprisingly different to the inside of a truck, and far more threatening.

"Put your gun on the floor, get up slow, and don't do anything stupid"

He had to admit, this kid was good, for it was a kid. He was shaking, the Wanderer couldn't tell if it was from fear or hunger, but still, at this range the kid couldn't miss, no matter how much he shook. Following orders the Lone Wanderer dropped his combat shotgun and stood up.

"Now..." The Lone wanderer didn't let him finish that sentence, knocking the pistol out of the way and raising a combat knife to the boys neck in one swift motion, the Lone Wanderer took his turn in speaking.

"You gotta be faster kid, I could stick you pretty-"

"I wouldn't if I were you, not if you want to remain attached to your balls at least".

"Your not in a position to be making threats kid" The Wanderer chuckled, the kid however raised his other hand to reveal it was attached to a string, a string attached to the firing pin of a Mini-nuke.

"You gonna put that knife down?" the kid asked, his icy blue eyes showing no emotion, the Wanderer could see that this kid had no reservations about pulling the pin from the bomb and sending them both to hell. The lone wanderer sighed and dropped the knife.

"Well played kid".

Luka entered the house, it was colder than usual, almost as if it knew that something was missing. Not wanting to waste time Luka went upstairs and began loading his Bag with food water and ammo. With heartless efficiency he moved to the fridge and began clearing it of anything that would stay fresh long enough to be of use. With his supplies collected he turned to face to door, his eye however was caught by the light shining under his feet.

When Fawkes moved to Megaton he found that living with the wanderer became claustrophobic in such a small house, as such the pair quickly built a basement level to the house, using up many of the Wanderer's caps in the process. Finding the hatch, Luka descended into the basement.

The whole room was filled with memorabilia, along the wall's were countless weapons, some conventional, a modified Fat-Man, the legendary Lincoln's repeater and the one remaining gauss rifle known to the wastes, others more irregular, deathclaw gauntlets, swords, what appeared to be a stick with green goo on the end. Pieces Of armour and clothing, and other item's which held no apparent value, Luka even spotted a piece of grey matter in a jar. In the middle of the room was a chess board covered in dust, illuminated by the single hanging lamp.

"Your father never finished that last game". A monstrous yet sorrowful voice boomed behind him. "He often promised me he would, but he was never up to it in the last months". Fawkes laid his hand on Luka's shoulder, Luka almost buckled under the weight of the mutants appendage but managed to hold his ground.

"I thought you would be at the funeral" Luka mumbled.

"I could say the same to you human, anyway, I doubt they would want me there, humans and their rituals, as far as I'm concerned they should have eaten the body, meat is hard to come by out here and what was left of you father is gone now.

"It's not that simple Fawkes" Said Luka, almost smiling, the cold logic of the mutant always caught him off guard.

"May I ask you to finish this game with me?" Asked the super mutant.

"I've got to be going pal" Luka was in no state for chess, let alone with Fawkes who had never lost a match.

"Consider it a favour to your fathers best friend" Luka winced at the mention of his father, some wounds were still too raw to touch. But the mutant had gotten to his soft-spot, Luka sat down and blew the dust off the board. The super mutant sat opposite him on a large metal box that acted as his bed and made the first move.

"What do you plan on doing now?" Fawkes asked, looking up at Luka from under his immense green brow.

"Rivet city most likely, I was making a killing off of those mirelurks".

"Are you not at all interested in finding out what your father left you?"

"He gave me more than anyone ever could, I doubt I'll need anything else, Plus all this Junk is promised to the Brotherhood" Luka motioned to the various items around the room.

"Your father's legacy is more than guns and armour"

"Well what is it then?"

The super mutant grinned, a broad and knowing smile which confused Luka no end, the super mutant said nothing else, he merely stared at Luka, which Luka found disconcerting to say the least.

"What?"

"When your father asked me his last favour all those months ago I asked him why he wanted it done, he told me not to worry, and that it will all be made clear in time"

"What favour?" asked Luka, his interest piqued.

"Now I see, I know what he wanted to accomplish, and it makes me happy".

"Fawkes what are you talking about" Luka questioned again, now becoming desperate

"Stay here young human, I am going to fetch your inheritance" Fawkes stood, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the ceiling, he walked over to the stairs and began to climb them, not before turning back and announcing "Check mate" however.

Luka examined the board and found that he had in fact been beaten.

"Bastard".

The Lone wanderer sat atop an ammunition box that the boy had provided, he had been allowed to enter the truck after bribing the young child with a box of Dandy Boy Apples and a frag grenade. The kid had been busy scavenging, he had all sorts of goods, many that would be valuable to a merchant.

"Why don't you try and sell this stuff, surely you'd make enough money to buy yourself a better truck" The Wanderer chuckled to himself. The boy looked up from his food and gave him a bemused look.

"Are you some sort of nut-job?" He asked through a mouthful of apple's. The wanderer smiled a sad smile, the fire in his eyes flickered, his voice dropped it's regular cheery tone as he spoke softly.

"It's a sad state of affairs when helping a starving child makes you a 'nut-job'". The child stopped chewing his food, he was right, but the kid wasn't prepared to let him know it.

"I'm doing fine, and I'm ten" These words put renewed vigour into the wanderer, who let out a bold laugh, throwing himself back.

"So you are kid, I mean look at you, ten years old and already you own your own motor home" The child, unsure of what sarcasm, or a motor home was responded with his default conversational choice. Insult.

"Fuck off you old croon"

"Woah there kid, I didn't mean to set you off" There was a silence as the wanderer allowed the volatile youth to calm down.

"What's your name any how?"

The child looked into the old mans eye's, defensive of his name as if knowledge of it gave the man power over him. But something in the child allowed him to see the good in the man, something rare in the child's life. With a fair degree of hesitation he spoke up.

"My names Luka, now gimme' all your caps or i'll shoot ya in the face".

Luka stared at the holotape Fawkes had handed him, on it was a sticker and in crude writing the word "Luka" had been printed on it. He hit the play button and sat in silence as the speakers came to life.

_Luka, if your hearing this chances are I'm dead by now, try not to feel down, it was bound to happen some time and I'm glad it wasn't at the hands of some Jet addict. Or at least I hope it wasn't. HA, listen to me talking about a death that aint happened yet, I guess I am some sort of nut-job._

Luka smiled, even in death the old guy was crazy.

_I'm recording this because I need you to do something, for me, and for you, and indeed for everyone. Even I, who's done about everything there is to be done has some unfinished business. And unfortunately, I'm not the one to see it out. I hate to dump this burden on you, but I wouldn't be giving it to you if I didn't know you could handle it._

A look of confusion and worry spread across Luka's face, a task that even the legendary lone wanderer couldn't face was sure to be a near impossible one.

_Head to Big Town, south of the old moon beam cinema, In the town hall, underneath the oven is a holodisk and a Map, I want you to fetch them and follow the instructions, they will tell you where you need to go._

Now Luka was very confused, a map? To what?

_Trust me, and before I go I want you to know, Luka, you were more than this old vault- dweller deserved. Thank you, thank you for making me the happiest I've ever been, Just know that._

Luka began to choke up, the sound of his fathers voice was enough to bring him to tears.

_Oh, and Luka... Trust me._

'Trust me?' Luka thought, what's the old croon doing this time?


	4. Chapter 4 part 1

Okay sorry this took so long, I went on holiday and tried to get it finished before I left but I couldn't manage it. Here's part one of the two part fourth chapter, first time I've ever really done any significant action so please tell me what you think. Enjoy.

**Chapter 4: Bad Blood on Familiar Footsteps (part 1).**

Bill Wilson slapped the light bulb hanging from the ceiling, causing it to sway and sending shadows dancing across the blood stained walls. He scraped a large knife along the table, on top of which the lone wanderer was bound, his shirt off, lines running up and down his body indicating where the best cuts of meat could be found.

"My oh my were gonna be eating good tonight, guest's your size don't normally visit often, normally they're just skin and bones, but you've got some fine meat on you", He sighed in a nostalgic fashion, looking down at a corpse that lay on the counter, the meat stripped from the bone, only the face remained, frozen in an eternal scream of agony.

"Our most recent meal came across a bit gamey, nothing to do with my wife's cooking mind you, she won an award for best cooking in Andale, and seeming as Andale is the best town in the USA, and as the USA is the best country in the world, that makes her the best cook in the world in my book"

"Your book's been written by a psychopath" spat the wonderer through a mouthful of blood.

"Well that's just not very nice" Bill purred as he raised a ripper. These nasty little contraptions could open up a human torso like a packet of potato crisps. Flesh, bone, anything, the ripper could make short work of it all. Bill gave it a rev and specs of dried gore landed on his face, which was now pulled into a madman's smile.

Now was the only chance he was going to get, after working on the rope that tied his left hand to the table the wanderer had spent the last five minutes fumbling to find any sort of weapon. Miraculously, Bill was messy, leaving a human femur on the floor. With a monumental swing the femur landed a blow on the side of the cannibal's face. Bill dropped his ripper and fell, dazed, the wanderer reached over himself, almost breaking his back in the process, and gripped the handle of the ripper and severed his remaining ties in the time it took Bill to regain consciousness.

"Welcome back Bill" smirked the wanderer, ripper in hand. Abandoning his usual cheery persona, Bills face turned a dark shade of red, he shouted, throwing spittle over the wanderer's face:

"YOU GOD DAMN DIRTY COMMIE I'M GONNA RIP YOUR..."was as far as he got, the hard side of a femur stopped him mid sentence. The wanderer grunted and made his way to the door. Before his hand touched the knob he heard a distinct and familiar sound, a sawed-off shotgun being cocked.

Acting on instinct the Lone Wanderer threw himself sideways just as a double-barrelled shotgun unleashed a rain of hot lead which ripped through the door and was itself inches away from ripping through him. A boot kicked the shack's make-shift door off his hinges as the wanderer revved the ripper and swung it towards the cannibal, the motorised teeth met flesh as they tore their way into the man's throat. There was a gurgling sound and a hiss as the air in his lungs escaped through his new hole, the man went limp and died.

His wife, wielding a kitchen knife let out a primal scream and sprinted towards the wanderer, to cease her deadly march the wanderer threw the femur into the path of the crazed widow. While not enough to harm her, the bone did place her somewhat off balance, she ran into the wanderer's ripper and was semi-liquidized by the deadly little weapon. A second woman ran at him, no weapon, just blind fury in her eyes. The wanderer pointed the ripper at her and revved it twice. The fury in her eyes died, replaced by fear, she dug her heels into the ground, turned, and ran into the never-ending wasteland.

Observing the scene the wanderer could not help but feel a twinge of sickness, at himself. Years ago in the vault he would have never imagined that he would be the harbinger of death, evil people or not they had once been living, breathing things, yes capable of horrible things but equally capable of miracles. Even vultures deserved life.

Behind him the frantic Bill Wilson had awoken once more and was attempting to sneak up on the lone wanderer, spinning to meet him the wanderer forced the ripper into his chest, killing him instantly and making a spine tingling noise as the saw grated against the mans chestplate.

It's hard to maintain a position of high moral stature in hell.

A sob caught his attention, looking over the bloody mess were two young children and an old man, family of the cannibals. In their eyes, a hollow look of misery. No tears would be shed for the monsters that lay on the ground, but family is family.

The wanderer sighed, he promised himself, that once the wasteland had had enough of him, if he was lucky enough to survive, he would raise a family, otherwise he feared he could never truly redeem himself after all the wrongs he had committed.

...

Luka ran his hand over the rough hair that covered his face. He had been travelling for 3 days and his stubble was starting to bother him, but when your only travelling companion is a semi-rotted dog everything can get to you. Deadmeat ran a few steps ahead of Luka to relieve himself over a large stone, there was a hissing sound as the radioactive urine burnt through the rock as if it were nothing more than a tissue.

Deciding that he needed a break Luka climbed atop a large boulder, a habit he had picked up after a run-in with a giant radscorpion a few years back. He grabbed his last pack of dandy boy apples from his back and surveyed his surroundings.

The wasteland stretched out for miles in every direction, dust whipped over the plains, lifted by the gentle wind. The sun beat down through the ashen sky and made Luka's skin tingle with perspiration. The air had the humid and musky feel of being in a cave even though it was out doors. Many people described it as hell but Luka often thought there was a sort of barren beauty to the capital wasteland, it was unforgiving, bleak and inhospitable, but it was home.

Finishing the box, Luka laughed and remembered his father telling him off for littering of all things, Luka placed the box in his sack for later disposal as he mouthed the words his father had once spoken.

"Son this place can't get any worse, so the only thing we can do is try and make it better".

The laugh died, and Luka pushed the memories to the back of his mind, it still hurt even now. To distract himself Luka focussed on his goal, or rather, tried to think of what his goal was. A map and a holotape, in Big Town? The old man had a lot to answer for. Luka had listened to the tape several times to decipher what he had meant by "trust me", and still it eluded him. He hoped that the answers would lie in Big Town, which, as Luka said the words in his head, appeared on the horizon.

It wasn't as Big as he thought it would be, if anything it was tiny. A small group of houses had been turned into a relative fortress with only one entrance, over a thin rope bridge. As Luka approached he got the unnerving feeling he was being watched, he rested his hand on the stock of his 44. And kept his eyes peeled, deadmeat showed no signs of alarm, but Luka trusted his instincts.

A gloved hand reached around his face and pulled him to the floor, Luka looked up to see a large rusty knife resting over his right eye, deadmeat growled as another attacker smothered him in a large brown bag.

"What's your business in big town?"

"I'm looking for something" Luka rushed the words word's in the hope that they would be enough to stop him from being stabbed in the eye.

"And what is it your looking for? Hmm, punk?"

"A-a" Luka hesitated, he doubted that they would buy his map story, he improvised.

"Trade and a place to stay for the night"

The two men, who Luka now realised were wearing what looked like bushes fashioned into camouflage gear, glanced at each other, the one that thought he had deadmeat in his bag spoke up.

"Bullshit this guys a raider"

"Do I look like a fucking raider to you?" Luka spat, offended

"Well you don't look like no trader I've ever seen" He stopped and lifted his now empty bag, he turned it to reveal the bottom of the bag, which sported a massive hole and was dripping Irradiated dog piss.

"What the fuck..." Deadmeat leapt at the man, pinning his arms to the ground and snarling like a wolf just inches from his face, the man screamed at the sight of the zombie dog. Luka used the distraction to his advantage, slapping the knife from the mans hand flipping him onto his back, Luka drew his magnum and rested the barrel against the mans forehead, silence followed.

"One word and my dog here will tear your boys throat out, and i'll paste your brains over this rock. But, I haven't, why? Because I'm not a raider, I'm just a guy who has had a long journey and needs a place to stay for the night" Luka paused for breath and smiled, "what do you say?"

...

Five minutes later Luka was walking over the bridge entrance Big Town, a guard with an assault rifle gave him a look up and down. A young woman bounced over to him with a grin on her face.

"Guns please" she beamed, opening a bag.

"I'm sorry?" Luka asked, he was unwilling to part with any of his guns.

"Gimme your guns, or I'll put a pistol in your nose-hole and see if the inside of your head can understand plain fucking English" She smiled again. Luka got the point and handed over his various arms, placing them in the bag with a pang of regret. The bag was hung on the wall by the entrance.

"Thanks blue" She gave him a wink, turned around and bounced off. An old man with a combat helmet approached, he was fifty or so, a cigarette hung from his lower lip and a laser rifle was strapped across his back. He wasn't a tall man, but he walked as if he had stature beyond his height.

"Ignore Pop" He said in a deep voice, made rough by years of smoking. "She still hasn't grown up since she left little lamplight" Luka finally remembered what this place was, he had heard of little lamplight and the town where the residents went when they had grown up. Although he had also heard that big town was basically a death trap, slavers and super mutants had apparently run the place into the ground. But the town he saw before him was bustling with life, a few residents were roasting a mole rat over an open fire, others sat at a desk cleaning weapons, a pair were jogging around the encampment, the town felt more like an army barracks then a settlement.

"The names MacCready, I run this place, you must be the guy with the zombie dog", the grizzled mayor spat out his cigarette and looked Luka in the eye, sizing him up. Luka got the feeling that MacCready disliked outsiders, but he played nice nonetheless.

"That I am, sorry about your boy's but they did give me quite a fright"

MacCready, half smiled flashing a row of yellow teeth.

"Don't you worry, they should know not to jump a guy with a 44. And a zombie dog". Luka hated people referring to deadmeat as a "zombie dog", swallowing his anger he spoke up.

"I'm looking for something"

"Aint we all kid"

"Something in town"

"Straight to the point eh? Fine, I'll cut the shit, you need something from me your gonna have to earn it". Luka didn't like the sound of that.

"I run my town like a god damn army, you may have noticed, why is this so? It's cos we got slavers to the west, muties to the north, raiders poking their heads up my ass and new kids coming in when this place is full enough as it is". With hesitation Luka asked what needed to be done.

"Well I got a problem see, my people can fight, and we pride ourselves on being able to stay hidden, we can hold our own and have done for years."

Luka glanced at the town once again and said;

"Well from what I know about big town you guy's seem to be doing a lot better then what I've heard". MacCready spat a globule of yellow phlegm next to Luka's feet.

"You thought we were some sort of limp-dick pussy clan with our head's so far in the sand we can taste mole-shit". Luka began to explain but was interrupted. "Well we ain't, but the rest of the wastes don't know that, they still think we are the same as we were in the old days"

"Old days?" asked Luka

"Yeah, back before the lone wanderer came and sorted shit out" Luka coughed back a pang of surprise.

"What, you mean, _the_ lone wanderer?"

"Yeah, y'know I met him once, back when I was in Lamplight, only fuckin' mungo I could bear to look at. Legend has it he came along and taught some of the old residents how to fend for themselves"

"But your still getting trouble?"

"Yep"

"Who from?" MacCready gave a large and knowing smile which chilled Luka to the core.

"Raiders?"

"no"

"mutant's?"

"no"

"slavers?"

"no"

"Then whose bothering you" MacCready let out a chuckle and lit a fresh cigarette.

"We got ourselves a vampire problem kid."

...

...TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2.


	5. Chapter 4 part 2

Okay so my two parter has turned into a three parter, But don't fret, the third part will be up the instant after this one, I just had some problem's with uploading it for some reason, damn you technology. As ever reviews are appreciated.

**Chapter 4: Bad Blood on Familiar Footsteps (Part 2).**

As a flaming sword belonging to the derranged vampire swang at Luka's throat, he wondered, not for the first time, why he had accepted the task given to him by MacCready.

...

"Vampires"? Luka smirked at MacCready who merely smiled back, cigarette slowly burning down, sending toxic-sweet smoke wafting into his sun baked face.

"You can't be serious"

"Kid how many times in your life have you had to hide from a giant insect, mutated crab or god damn man-dog hybrid? Are you telling me that a vampire is out of the question?" Luka remembered the old stories of vampires they used to tell around campfires, and the evil creatures of the night that crognak the barbarian would fight with stakes and silver. Although it seemed unlikely that these creatures could exist, Luka had seen weirder stuff than that in the Capital Wasteland.

MacCready talked him through his previous interactions with a small settlement named Arefu:

"We first came into contact with Arefu after one of our scav parties found their town and almost got killed by a gang that called themselves "the family". See the family were tasked with the protection of Arefu, in return for some 'services' that they wouldn't freely talk about. Anyway, afterwards we began regular trading with Arefu, even had a few of them come over here a few years back. While they were here they got to talking, saying that the family weren't just 'some gang', but a clan of vampires who protected them in return for blood. Strange I know but I saw the needle marks to prove it, once in a while the family would come to town, always at night, and take blood from the townsfolk, but they didn't care as long as they were protected."

MacCready took a long breath and exhaled a lungful of smoke before continuing.

"So this had been going on for as long as any of them could remember, and they were doing pretty good for themselves, they lived on top of an old overpass, protected by a badass gang of vampires, nothing could touch 'em. Till one day a few months back we don't hear from them no more. After a while I send out a scouting party to see what's up, I sent two guys and neither of them came back, I sent out another two to find them, and they don't come back... after a while I send another two, I don't let four lamplighters die without finding out why and giving them a proper funeral".

He slowly took the cigarette stub out of his mouth and lifted it to the air, saluting his former comrades. Flicking away the ashen filter he carried on.

"These guys come back, and told me of what they found; Arefu was gone, not only gone, destroyed, the supports that held up the town had been demolished, everyone was dead, nothing was left, only rubble. And on top of the pile, four bodies, my scouting parties, drained of blood, every last fucking drop... I don't know what the townsfolk of Arefu did, but the family murdered every last one of them, and now they're coming after us".

"What do you mean? Why are they after you?"

"Hell if I know, but last month one of my perimeter guards gets found dead, no blood in him and another one just a week ago. I'm losing men and the ones I got left are scared shitless, that's why my guys jumped you out there, they thought you were gonna eat 'em".

"What do you want me to do?" Luka asked hesitantly.

"What else?" he said with a grin.

"I want you to find this family, and send 'em a message, that big town is not to be fucked with".

...

Luka trudged for two days over the plains of the Capital Wasteland, through beating sun and desert wastes, further from ever from his father's holotape. Marching on a revenge mission in the name of, what? He wondered. Was it in hope of the reward? He didn't care about the people of Arefu, yes it was tragic but he hadn't known them and thier deaths made little consequence to him. Was it for the thrill of a fight? He wasn't quite sure, he had half a mind to turn around, go to rivet city and grow old and rich off of mirelurks. But something in the back of his mind spoke words of wisdom that he could faintly recognise.

"Son this place can't get any worse, so the only thing we can do is try and make it better."

With a sigh Luka agreed with the memory of his father, the people of Arefu deserved some form of justice, even if it was wasteland vigilante justice, and MacCready didn't need any more dead lamplighters on his conscious.

MacCready had given Luka back his gear, and provided him with a combat shotgun that was in pretty decent condition. However Luka did regret leaving the railway rifle he used to hunt Mirelurks at Rivet City. Although it was crude, his railway rifle had seen him through some tough times, and Luka could always feel proud of a weapon that he built himself. MacCready had, however given him an invaluable gift. A suit, interwoven into it's seams and stitches were branches, leaves, twigs and other pieces of detritus. The residents of big town called them 'ghille suits' and out in the barren wastes they made the wearer almost invisible. It did explain how the two scouts from big town had snuck up on him so easily. Although it was hot and it rustled whenever Luka walked, the suit meant that he could move around the wastes with a little more stealth.

Luka checked his map. Unlike his father Luka did not have the luxury of a vault-tech 'Pip-boy' to guide him over the wasteland, all he had was a crude map with a cigarette burn in the centre. Still, it was easy enough to find Arefu, or at least, what was left.

As the wreckage of the overpass came into view Luka finally gained an understanding of the destruction the family had brought on Arefu. The large concrete pillars supporting the overpass had been demolished using some form of explosive, the scale of which must have been momentous, as the remnants of the pillars were shot across the surrounding area as shrapnel, trees and a small hut that once lay at the foot of the road had been obliterated. There was a large scar in the earth from where the steel mesh and concrete had come crashing down onto the ground, the town on top of it was not longer recognisable amongst the rubble. The only thing that remained was dust and a smell of death.

Luka took station at the base of an old tree and observed the scene, he knew that two scouting parties who had come out here had died so it was likely that the family were keeping watch on the wreckage for any further intruders, which, he assumed, they were doing to him now.

Although not the strongest of fighters in the wastes Luka did pride himself on having excellent instincts, and it seemed that deadmeat had the same feeling as his ears were upright and a snarl pulled at his top lip, Luka had learnt a long time ago that deadmeats canine senses were far better than his and made a perfect early warning system. Taking a deep breath Luka rationalised that the only place they could be was behind him, as he could see everything in front of him, he then visualised the path he took, remembering details such as cover that any ambusher could use to their advantage. In one swift motion he drew his 44. Span around and fired a shot.

The man had just stepped out from his cover and was raising his weapon when Luka had spun and shot him in the elbow. The man had never been shot in the elbow before but found out quite quickly how excruciatingly painful it is. As his joint shattered into a hundred tiny pieces the only thing he could think of was killing the bastard that had shot him. Instead of aiming he merely pulled the trigger on his submachine gun which sprayed bullets downwards into his own feet. He screamed and dropped the weapon.

Luka cursed himself for his awful shot and took cover until he was sure the man had no comrades ready to back him up, once he was certain he lept forward and ran towards the man. Luka kicked away his weapon, but caught in a frenzy of pain and anger the man swung a switchblade at his leg, he missed allowing Luka time to bring his booted foot down on the ambushers face. Placing the barrel of his revolver on the mans forehead Luka bellowed.

"Where are the family?" The man swallowed the blood that had pooled in his mouth and in a thick accent said;

"Fuck you, God dammit, my arm". Luka resorted to blackmail.

"I can give you a stimpak which will ease the pain, Just tell me where I can find the family" The man grimaced and replied;

"Go sit on a hard one, I'm gonna rip your fucking balls off once I'm up"

"Fine" Luka replied, he whistled to deadmeat who bounded over, on top of the crippled man and growled at him, baring his broken shards of teeth, lines of dribble falling to his eyes.

"What the fuck is that thing!" he screamed, blinking the spittle from his face.

"That _thing_ is about to tear your face off unless you tell me where the family is" Luka said chambering a round loudly. The man screamed and in a frenzy of panic threw deadmeat off of him, he reached to his jacket pocket and drew a frag grenade.

Without hesitation Luka shot the man in the head. The grenade fell harmlessly from his hand and rolled away. As did Luka's chances of getting an answer from him. Luka sighed and sat down on a rock. He had killed people before, too many in fact, and if he was honest he was more annoyed at the fact he couldn't get an answer than having to kill a man. But even so, whilst it didn't feel wrong, it never felt right either.

Luka started searching the still warm corpse. He didn't look like a vampire, in fact he looked more like a raider. He had a Mohawk and a scar running down his face. His armour was simple and covered in small metal spikes, from his belt hung ammo and body parts, definitely a raider. But Luka failed to comprehend why a lone raider would be wandering the wastes, they normally travelled in groups looking for merchants or settlers, or anything with a pulse and some caps. Raiders weren't picky. Searching his pockets Luka found a few rounds of ammo, a pack of mentats and a small slip of paper which read 'Meresti Station metro ticket'.

Luka wasn't a good reader, growing up he had more to worry about than words, however he understood the basics, enough at least to know he was heading underground.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 3...


	6. Chapter 4 part 3

**Chapter 4: Bad Blood on Familiar Footsteps (Part 3).**

On his way to the station Luka seriously considered turning back and leaving MacCready to get his own revenge. If there was one thing Luka hated more than anything else is was the abandoned metro tunnels that ran underneath the capital wasteland. Repugnant stench, thick air, miles of pitch black nothing, full of rats and shadows, other things, other things with teeth and claws. Booby traps, trip mines, dead ends. The tunnels were a labyrinth of death, perfect hideout for vampires. Not that Luka would ever call it fear, but even he was anxious about heading underground.

At the gates of the tunnels Luka arranged his gear and strapped it down tight so It wouldn't rustle and clink while he was moving around, he stowed the ghille suit in his bag, it would be useless in dark tunnels. He didn't plan on hanging around long, but while he was there he didn't want anything to know about him. Checking his flashlight Luka turned to deadmeat and told him to stay put, the decomposing canine tilted his head to one side and let out a whine.

"No boy, I gotta stay quiet, so I don't need you breathing and pissing all over the place". Deadmeat's tongue flopped out of his mouth and he flopped to the ground with a hint of resentment on his face.

"Good dog".

Luka slowly opened the service doors leading into the tunnels and descended into the dark.

A dripping could be heard some way down the tunnel, it echoed up towards Luka, to him it sounded like footsteps. He had to focus, he couldn't get paranoid over little things otherwise something big might slip past his defences, it was all too easy to get distracted down here. The air was thick and stale, it felt like breathing mud, the tunnel had been loosely lit by the occasional working light driven by a fusion generator somewhere that refused to give up, even so, the light only served to make the dark more ominous. A wrecked train lay dead on the tracks, it's wheels rusted into place, the one working light inside the carriage was flickering sending shadows flitting over the tunnel roof.

Making his way through the winding dark Luka began to notice the tunnels beginning to slope downwards, Luka could see almost nothing, just the outline of the train carriage and a glowing line of ooze seeping from a drum at the end of the tunnel, making his way slowly across the tracks, feeling ahead for any tripwires, Luka stopped when he noticed a crack of light shining from under a service door. His curiosity piqued, Luka headed over and raised his gun before pressing the open button on the front of the door.

There was a hiss and Luka stepped inside. The air was fresher here; lights illuminated a rusted corridor with pipes and wires running along the walls and the distant hum of machinery could be heard. Luka stayed low with his gun raised, and made his way to the end of the corridor.

A makeshift and rusted runway led to the left and right, straight ahead of him Luka saw a huge ventilation shaft which descended beyond his vision into darkness, as he leant over the shaft Luka could smell the gruesome odour of decomposing flesh, the smell made his stomach churn, his eyes watered and his nostrils felt like they had been placed over a fire. Before he could regain his composure his throat closed in on itself and let out a loud gagging noise.

"What was that?" came a voice from around the corner. Luka heard booted footsteps and the sound of an assault rifle being loaded. He was out in the open, no cover, and no way out. The footsteps grew closer. Luka panicked, the thought of his only option alone was enough to make him feel ashamed of himself, but left with little other options Luka held his nose, and vaulted over the handrail into the reeking darkness.

It wasn't hard to guess what was at the bottom, Luka knew the smell well, and the smell of a group of corpses was a hard one to forget. Luka had reasoned, judging by the strength of the smell, there were countless corpses laying at the floor of the ventilation shaft, and he had been correct. After falling for a good 30 feet, Luka had landed into the pile soft and pungent bodies. As he landed he heard a crack and he prayed it wasn't any of his bones. The corpses that the pile was made up of consisted of an assortment of unfortunate creatures, many human, some were mutant, there were mole rats, mirelurks, dogs and even a fearsome deathclaw, stripped of its vicious and valuable claws. Luka pulled his way out of the body pile, bruised and covered in unspeakable things, but otherwise alive.

The pile had been placed behind a massive heap of rubble, the corpses had been dragged down and placed under the vent presumably to avoid the smell spreading throughout the station. Wiping himself off, Luka climbed the pile of Rubble to observe the vampires lair.

The first thing he noticed was a distinct lack of vampires, quite the opposite. The station was a hive of activity, men and women moved to and fro carrying weapons and food, rolling drums of purified water across the upper levels. Cleaning guns and sharpening knives, many sat down to eat very human looking meat All of this, and one thing was clear, these weren't vampires, this army consisted of raiders, hundreds of raiders.

Luka almost added to the bad smell, all thoughts of his task abandoned, trying to fight these people would be futile, and the only message he would send would be the dinner bell. His priority now was to sneak out of here unnoticed. How he did not know, he could not climb up the shaft nor could he avoid the masses of raiders that inhabited the station. If he could create an adequate distraction he could use it to sneak past the raiders, but no such opportunity presented itself.

Luka noticed an office across the hallway from where he was currently hidden, he figured it would be a more secluded spot to plan his next move and as such made his way over with care.

Nobody spotted Luka entering the office, the inside of which was abnormally lavish, a queen sized bed surrounded by antique furniture and ornate objects which would seem more at home in the suites of Tenpenny Tower than a train station office. A large wooden cupboard stood tall in the corner next to a small computer terminal which Luka approached. Pressing the on switch the green display hummed to life and a keyboard slid out from underneath the monitor. The terminal was protected by a password but with little effort Luka hacked the small computer which welcomed him as 'Vance' and a list of journal entries appeared on the screen. Luka went into a trance as he began skim reading every entry for anything that may come in usefull, starting from the top. It became clear that this 'Vance' was long dead as the journal was last updated over twenty years ago. By the sounds of it he died from malnourishment, but then that's what happens if you rely on blood for your main source of nutrients. While clearly deluded Vance was no murderer, it was him who struck the deal with the townsfolk of Arefu all those years ago with the help of the Lone Wanderer.

Mention of his father's title snapped Luka from his reading trance, a lump formed in his throat. Retrieve a holotape from Big Town, Luka almost felt as if his Father had planned on this happening, it seemed such a simple task, yet something inside Luka told him that Dad didn't plan on it being simple.

Reading on there was an entry about a boy named Drake whom Vance distrusted, Drake joined the family and within a month of his arrival very almost, "accidently", irradiated the whole station by overriding the nuclear generator that kept the lights working. Before Luka could read on he heard shouting from outside, quickly pressing the off button on the terminal Luka hid himself in the large cabinet that stood in the corner of the office. Inside the cabinet were countless bladed weapons, Swords hung from the sides and back, old fire axes and decorative samurai blades, as well as throwing stars and other such weapons. Trying to stay away from the hundreds of sharp edges that lined the walls Luka slowed his breathing as to not make a sound.

Two men entered the room, one held the other by the scruff of the neck and threw him into the centre of the room. The man who pushed him sported the traditional raider spiked hair and leather armour, the other wore a long leather overcoat and a large gas tank on his back, connected to a blade covered in charred flesh, the man was pale and gaunt, his eyes were sunken into their sockets and seemed icy and distant, the eyes of a madman. The Raider spoke.

"God fucking dammit Drake we can't expect to keep a low profile when you go around slaughtering patrol's! it's hard enough to keep people from sticking their noses in as it stands so you going out and bleeding townsfolk dry isn't helping". The vampire Drake looked into the raiders eyes and smiled, flashing off a set of brown teeth which has been filed down into fangs. He spoke in a whisper almost too quiet to hear.

"When you came to me asking to use my home I allowed you to on the basis that you did not interfere with my affairs, when you stop me from hunting like this it makes me go a bit... crazy" His eyes widened and the raider was taken aback.

"Go fuck yourself Drake, all your 'family members' were dead and you were starving until we came along and took care of Arefu for you. You gotta be some new breed of crazy when those assholes won't let you feed on 'em 'cos your too god damn nuts".

"Those scum deserved what they got for going back on our arrangement and yes it is true I was in a predicament until you came along but now you are here you must not expect me to lay down like a common dog"!

"Drake you know who I'm working for, and you know he won't be pleased to find out that you're not co-operating". A silence followed, whoever this man was working for must have held some sway over drake who glared into the raiders eyes without a response.

"Fine, now leave, all your men have been keeping me awake". The raider left with a triumphant smile, Drake slammed shut the door behind him. He turned to the cabinet which Luka was hidden and spoke.

"Come out little man". Luka froze, how had he known he was here?

"I can smell you from here you repugnant scum". Luka was too slow to react as the man kicked the door of the cabinet in on him, the wooden door slammed into Luka's arm sending a pulse of throughout his torso, his shotgun dropped to the floor with a crack as the man reached through the broken door and pulled Luka from inside the cabinet. Drake, in an incredible show of strength effortlessly threw Luka to the ground and stripped his sidearm

"Lets make this fun" he said, locking the office door. He took a long and shining sword from the cabinet and threw it at Luka's feet before drawing his own. The deadly contraption strapped to his back let out a hiss as the man squeezed an injector on the base of the handle, sending a stream of fluid to shoot up the blade and igniting, setting the sword alight.

As a flaming sword belonging to the derranged vampire swang at Luka's throat, he wondered, not for the first time, why he had accepted the task given to him by MacCready.


End file.
