Fallout: Connections of Fate

Chapter 4: Crazed

Two men sat on a bench outside of an old house. One had a thick beard and was sharpening a combat knife. He looked like he hadn't taken much care of himself in the past months. The other seemed unsettled, and kept looking around the nearby rocks warily. The bearded man turned to his clean shaven partner and began to speak. "Fog's rolling in. Might be bringing us some food sometime soon."
The younger man began to scratch at his left forearm through his thick shirt. "Hope it ain't no more 'lurks. Right sick of it."
The bearded man continued to sharpen his combat knife and gave a low laugh. "You know how Richie loves his two legged prey."
The paranoid man smiled uneasily. "Been too long since we've had ourselves some people meat."
They both have a hearty laugh. "When Richie wakes up, we'll go hunt-"
His sentence was cut short by a rock hitting him in the center of his dirty face. "Ahh, fuck!"
The scrawny man stood up in shock and looked around in a panic. "I told you we was being watched! But y'all never listen to -- fuck!"
He was also struck quite hard with a rock thrown at a distance. He grabbed the hunting rifle that had been sitting next to him and began to fire shots randomly into the fog. "I'll fucking mount your head on a-"
His screams were cut silent by a bullet swiftly piercing his neck, killing him instantly.
The bearded man looked up to the rocks nearby and saw a man with a flowing cape behind him. He gripped his combat knife and yelled. "Richie! We got ourselves an asshole!" He expertly hurled the knife at his assailant and darted behind the water barrels on the porch.
The caped man ducked, allowing the knife to hurl over his head into a nearby tree. He cocked his lever action rifle and rolled behind another rock. He couldn't help but giggle at the bearded man's attempt to call for help. Peering out from behind his rock, he noticed he didn't have a clear shot at Ol Beardy.
The bearded man chambered his hunting rifle and peeked over the barrels. A bullet landed close by, splintering the side of the barrel, sending wood chips and water into his face. He heard the caped man cock his rifle once more. "Hey fuckstick, how's about you run along before we make you our dinner!"
The caped man started laughing behind his rock. "And give up on this adrenaline rush? Hell no!" He fired once more at the barrels.
Suddenly, the door to the house was kicked open from the inside. A man slowly came walking out, brandishing some kind of heavy weapon. He was wearing heavy metal armor he had scavenged and a lobster cage on his head. The bearded man yelled to him. "He's up on the rocks!"
The lobster cage turned from his bearded friend to the rocks. He could see the end of a rifle poking out from behind an oddly shaped rock, so he fired his large metal cannon at it.
The impact sent the caped man's rifle barreling away from him. A harpoon that the lobster cage had shot at him had lodged itself in the side of his rifle. He sighed as he saw his favorite weapon lie broken several feet away. "Well, shit."
The lobster cage turned again to the bearded man. "Knocked that fucker's weapon right out of his hands!"
Beardy let out a sigh of relief and laughed. "Let's kill this fucknut." As he stood up to take aim at his disarmed target, a harpoon landed in his eye. He fell dead instantly. The lobster cage turned and stared at his friends, the oldest now lying dead with a harpoon in his head, and the young twitchy one with a hole in his neck. He couldn't take his eyes off the the bodies. All he could do was think about how hungry he was. The fresh blood smelled so appealing.
The caped crusader, impressed with his throw of the harpoon he had pulled from his rifle, had a tremendous idea. He grabbed Beardy's knife from the tree and crept around the rocks down to the house.
He tapped on lobster cage's shoulder.
Lobster cage's hunger induced trance prevented him from noticing any of the caped man's movement. He spun around to meet the face of the dirty man in the cape. Only, it was no cape. It looked like an old blanket, adorned with rocket ships and stars. Before he could say anything, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. Then two. The pain was multiplying, until he could feel it no more. The last thing he saw was the yellow smile of his murderer.
The caped man looked down at the 3 bodies. "Heeelllo? Anybody still present?" He walked over to the open door and knocked on the frame. "I would like to speak to the head of the household!" He laughed at his joke before turning to face the bodies again. He counted them on his fingers, up to 3. A puzzled look stretched across his face. He removed his pack from under his makeshift cape and removed a journal from the bottom. The cover read 'John Lowmans Diary. Personal Journal. What's the password?' Diary had been scratched out with an old pen.
"Teddy bear wrinkles" he spoke before opening his journal. Fingering through the pages, he landed on a list of names. It read:
John, don't forget. This is a dangerous group. Don't do anything stupid.
"Whoops." Spoke John before continuing to read.
Beardy man
Lobster Cage guy
Twitchmeister
Jingles
John looked up in confusion once more. He counted three bodies on the ground, but four names on the page. He had lost Jingles.
He had been tracking this group for over a week, and there were always four people. What happened to the 4th? He began to think harder.
He couldn't remember seeing Jingles in the past few days. He couldn't have left the house, John would have heard him. He ran inside. "Jingles the jingler! Where are you?" He giggled once again. You're on my list, so I have to kiiiill you." He spoke in a very sing songy way. He walked up to the only closed door in the house and knocked. "Jingly poo, are you decent?" He said before kicking the door down. Inside there was a bathtub filled with blood. Beside it was a skeleton, cleaned down to the bone of all meat. There was a large pile of chains on the floor on top of blood spattered clothing. There was also a revolver that belonged to the skeleton, seemingly fully loaded.
He looked in horror at the chains. Tears welled up in his eyes. "Jingles! You got eaten!" He dropped to his knees. "I'm going to miss the way your chains jingled when you walked. It always made me want to shoot you in the head." He waited a moment and kicked the chains. The gave a loud rattling noise. Once the noise stopped, he grabbed the revolver off the floor and shot the skeleton in the head multiple times, shattering the skull. He fired until the gun clicked multiple times. "Like that."
He sighed a sigh of relief, took out his journal once more, and scratched the names off of his list.
"Now John, where would you like to go next?" He spoke to himself.
He turned back to his pack and removed a small teddy bear. It was almost completely destroyed, but had been patched up with parts of clothing and old wire. He sighed.
"You know you're not supposed to talk to me, Davey. It makes other people stare." He glared around the empty room, looking for someone to hide from.
"John, you have to understand that a talking teddy bear is a rare find. I suggest we follow up on the rumors of more trappers east of here."
"You are absolutely right, Davey, you smart bear you. Now shush." He stuffed him back in the bag.
John Lowmans, giggling, walked outside, kicked the twitchy man's body, and happily pranced east, humming an old tune from years ago.