Ch: 1 [Death row]

Fiction: Fallout- Vault 169

This story takes place on Earth. MC will die and will be reborn into the Fallout world. He will wake up inside a vault. I have just borrowed the idea of disaster, cult and different group names and slapped together in a OC world. 

70% credits goes to UnknownMaster, my editor, for arranging my jumbledfuck scattered draft into a fanfic. And as you all know, there will be Harem and Horrors. It's a Fallout world after all.

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I sit here in my dimly lit cell, knowing that in just twenty-four hours, my life will come to a violent end. Death row. It's a place of despair and hopelessness, a place where the condemned wait for their inevitable demise. And yet, amidst the anguish and fear, I find solace in knowing that this world will soon be consumed by fire and chaos.

They called me Travis White, a name that holds no meaning to me anymore. I have been stripped of my identity and reduced to a mere number: Prisoner 4387. My crimes are unspeakable, or so they say. But in this fucking unfair world, what does it matter anymore?

As the hours tick away, I reflect on the events that led me to this point. It all started when I stumbled upon a secret government facility hidden deep within the Nevada desert. A place where experiments on human subjects were carried out in the name of progress and science. I was a double agent back then, recording and stealing whatever files I could get my hands on.

But instead, I found myself caught in a web of conspiracy and deceit. I witnessed horrors that should never be seen, atrocities committed in the name of progress. And when I tried to expose the truth, I became a liability, a loose end that needed to be tied up.

They framed me for crimes I didn't commit, fabricated evidence to seal my fate. And now, here I am, awaiting my execution for crimes that were never mine. It's ironic, really. In a world on the brink of destruction, they choose to focus on punishing a single individual.

The guards outside my cell pay me no mind. To them, I'm just another nameless inmate awaiting death. But I refuse to go quietly into the night. I have one final request, a small glimmer of hope in this bleak existence.

"Guard!" I call out, my voice filled with a newfound determination.

A burly figure appears at the bars, a sneer on his face. "What do you want, scum?"

This giant fucker. He is a gambling addict and often pits other inmates against each other and gambles with the inmates and the guards alike. The first thing I am gonna do after I escape tonight is kill this fuck.

"When is that wish giver coming? I am gonna die in less than 24hrs. So, hurry up and call those fucking lawyers or government people, whatever you call them," I yelled back angrily.

The guard chuckles mockingly, his eyes filled with contempt. "Wish giver? You think you're special, huh? Well, let me tell you something, scum. No one cares about your wishes. You're just a stain on society, and tomorrow, you'll be wiped away."

"I have a legal right to make a final wish before my execution. So, hurry up, or else..." I stopped in the midsentence.

The guard narrows his eyes at me, his expression turning cold. "Or else what? You think you can threaten me? You're already as good as dead, and I can make your last hours a living hell if I wanted to."

I take a deep breath, trying to control my rising anger. I can't afford to provoke him further. "Look, all I'm asking for is my right to make a final wish. It's a small thing, and it won't cost you anything. Just do your damn job."

The guard's sneer deepens, and he leans in closer to the bars, his voice low and menacing. "You don't get it, do you? Nobody cares about you or your wishes. You're nothing but a piece of trash waiting to be disposed of. So save your breath and accept your fate."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I refuse to let despair consume me. I've come too far to give up now. "Are you sure about that? Why do you think those fuckers put me in this isolated section? I might know things that could be very bad or very profitable, depending on the people you ask. And who knows, I might have a secret safe buried somewhere..."

The guard looked at my face. Nice, I have attracted his attention. This greedy gambler has already forgotten about my last wish and his focus is on that safe.

The guard's eyes widen slightly, a glimmer of interest flickering within them. He straightens himself and takes a step back, considering my words. "What are you talking about? You think you have something valuable hidden away?"

I smirk, knowing I have piqued his curiosity. "Let's just say that the things I've seen, the things I've discovered in that secret facility, could bring down some powerful people. If I were to disappear, those secrets would go with me. And you will remain a guard for the rest of your life. Don't you want something more than some pocket change you get from inmates fights?"

The guard's eyes dart back and forth, contemplating the weight of my words. Greed battles with caution in his mind, and I can see the internal struggle playing out on his face.

"You're just trying to save your own skin," he grumbles, but I can tell he's intrigued. "How do I know you're not lying?"

I lean in closer to the bars, my voice low and filled with conviction. "You don't. But take a chance on me, and you might find yourself with a ticket to a new life. One where you don't have to work in this hellhole, taking orders from higher-ups who couldn't care less about you. Tell me, when was the last time you had a decent wine and woman?"

The guard's eyes narrow as he considers my proposition. The allure of a life beyond the confines of this grim prison tugs at his desires, and I can see the longing in his gaze.

"Alright, scum," he finally says, his voice laced with caution. "If you're lying to me, I'll make sure your last hours are the most agonizing you've ever experienced. But if what you're saying is true... well, let's just say we might have a deal."

A glimmer of hope sparks within me as I see a slight crack in the guard's facade. I know I have to play this carefully, not revealing too much, but enticing him enough to take action.

"Smart decision," I reply, my tone calculated. "But here's the thing, guard. The information I possess is hidden, well-guarded. You'll need my help to access it. And once you have it, you can do as you please. Wealth, power, freedom... all within your grasp."

The guard's eyes widen with greed, and his grip tightens on the bars. "What do you want in return?"

I smirk, knowing that my plan is falling into place. "A simple favor. Exactly around 12 am, put the other guards to sleep, the sleeping pills are already in your locker and cut the main power of the alarm system, for 15 minutes. Then you will find an old truck parked on the other side of the road. Get in and wait for me. If I don't come within 15 minutes, go to Lanford Bank. Someone will give you your rewards there."

The guard's face twists into a mixture of greed and skepticism. He hesitates for a moment, weighing the risks and rewards of my proposition. Finally, he nods, a sly smile forming on his lips.

"Deal. But remember, if you try to double-cross me or if this turns out to be some kind of trick, I won't hesitate to end you right here, right now."

I nod in agreement, understanding the stakes involved. "Fair enough. Trust works both ways, after all. Now, let's get this plan in motion."

As the guard turns to leave, a surge of adrenaline rushes through my veins. This is my chance to escape, and fuck up those bastards who betrayed me.