He Didn't Scream
Posted: Thu Aug 20, 2009 12:08 amComments and criticism welcome! This isn't purely Fallout 3, but was inspired by it.
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He didn’t scream.
As I rooted through his pockets, I felt a small bit of respect for a man whose name I didn’t even know. They always plead, beg, and ask to be spared. I put another two bullets into his head, took one last look around and got back to town. I walked through the door into the bar. Beer’s the only damned comfort left in this world. I took a look around. The normal crowd was there. There were a couple of elderly men sitting in the corner discussing politics. Like they'd be able to change anything. Like any of us could. As I sat down at the bar, Wayne spotted me and smiled. “Seth, ya look like hell”, he said laughing dryly. “What else is new”, I responded with a slight smirk. Wayne set a dirty glass filled with a dark brown liquid in front of me. “First one's on the house.” I thanked him and forced the grainy alcohol down my throat.
I sat with my head in my hands for a few minutes just taking in calm sound of liquor being poured. Why had today gotten to me so much. Sure, I've lost my touch a bit, but I'm still the quickest out there. He only nicked my arm on a lucky shot. I ran my fingers through my grimy hair, thanked Wayne again and made my way to the door.
As I pushed the door open, I was met with the stock of a shotgun. I stumbled to the side and fell onto a table. I heard screams and gunshots as the three men barged into the bar. The men discussing politics were the first to die. 2 shotgun blasts was all it took. One woman sitting near the door managed to run out behind them. Wayne ducked behind the bar and blindly fired his pistol over the bar top. Two of the men ran to the right while shooting the bar. Glasses shattered and wood splintered. The third man walked to the open end of the bar and raised his shotgun. I put one bullet into his neck, let the gun rise naturally with the recoil and put another into his temple.
The two men focused their attention on me and let loose. I rolled over to the bar and checked on Wayne. He was shaken and was trying to reload his pistol. I picked up the shotgun and leaned around the corner of the bar. I fired one shot into one of the men's legs, taking it off at the knee. He fell to the ground firing once more, hitting me in the shoulder. I spun back around to the backside of the bar. I heard the man pleading for his friend to help him and kill me. Wayne started shooting over the bar top until his clip was empty.
We waited for what seemed like an eternity. Wayne finally stood up and smiled. “They're gone. What they hell were they thinking? I don't make no money off this dirt bowl.” He reached out to help me up and I took his hand. There was the squeak of a door hinge and a single gun shot. Wayne fell into my lap. I heard the footsteps coming closer. They stopped to my left a few feet away. The gun cocked and the barrel pressed against my head. I didn't scream.
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He didn’t scream.
As I rooted through his pockets, I felt a small bit of respect for a man whose name I didn’t even know. They always plead, beg, and ask to be spared. I put another two bullets into his head, took one last look around and got back to town. I walked through the door into the bar. Beer’s the only damned comfort left in this world. I took a look around. The normal crowd was there. There were a couple of elderly men sitting in the corner discussing politics. Like they'd be able to change anything. Like any of us could. As I sat down at the bar, Wayne spotted me and smiled. “Seth, ya look like hell”, he said laughing dryly. “What else is new”, I responded with a slight smirk. Wayne set a dirty glass filled with a dark brown liquid in front of me. “First one's on the house.” I thanked him and forced the grainy alcohol down my throat.
I sat with my head in my hands for a few minutes just taking in calm sound of liquor being poured. Why had today gotten to me so much. Sure, I've lost my touch a bit, but I'm still the quickest out there. He only nicked my arm on a lucky shot. I ran my fingers through my grimy hair, thanked Wayne again and made my way to the door.
As I pushed the door open, I was met with the stock of a shotgun. I stumbled to the side and fell onto a table. I heard screams and gunshots as the three men barged into the bar. The men discussing politics were the first to die. 2 shotgun blasts was all it took. One woman sitting near the door managed to run out behind them. Wayne ducked behind the bar and blindly fired his pistol over the bar top. Two of the men ran to the right while shooting the bar. Glasses shattered and wood splintered. The third man walked to the open end of the bar and raised his shotgun. I put one bullet into his neck, let the gun rise naturally with the recoil and put another into his temple.
The two men focused their attention on me and let loose. I rolled over to the bar and checked on Wayne. He was shaken and was trying to reload his pistol. I picked up the shotgun and leaned around the corner of the bar. I fired one shot into one of the men's legs, taking it off at the knee. He fell to the ground firing once more, hitting me in the shoulder. I spun back around to the backside of the bar. I heard the man pleading for his friend to help him and kill me. Wayne started shooting over the bar top until his clip was empty.
We waited for what seemed like an eternity. Wayne finally stood up and smiled. “They're gone. What they hell were they thinking? I don't make no money off this dirt bowl.” He reached out to help me up and I took his hand. There was the squeak of a door hinge and a single gun shot. Wayne fell into my lap. I heard the footsteps coming closer. They stopped to my left a few feet away. The gun cocked and the barrel pressed against my head. I didn't scream.
