Will it truly end like this?
You need to see it. You can't die here. You can't. You saw for yourself that none of your organs have yet left your body; the creature took none, and your muscles and peritoneum still seem to desperately hold them within. If you can just staunch the bleeding while you ascend the stairs, you might survive long enough for real medical attention. You grab the scraps of your nightwear.
Medical Check
[3+2 (Raw Determination) +2 (Medical Supplies: Torn Clothing)]
You begin to wrap your old clothes around the open cavity in your stomach, tightening with every pass over and ignoring the spiking pain. By the end, you are shirtless, one pants leg missing as well, but aside from turning red, you appear to have staunched the bleeding. Maybe you'll survive. Maybe. But not on your own. You'll just have to hope a real doctor still exists.
You climb the stairs and open that last hatch...
The Outside World
It doesn't look good. But you already knew that, didn't you? The ground is a scorched grey, covered in rubble. It's snowing a bizarre maroon color, like blood mixed with radioactive ashes. A city skyline stands before you, either in ruins or still engulfed in flames. And the bodies. It smells of rot, miasma, and death. Many of the corpses are unrecognizable as having once been your fellow man, missing limbs and skin and life in their eyes. They look as though they've been set on fire and flayed, or blown to pieces, or torn apart by scavengers. But in a way, you're glad to see all of this. It's not pretty, by any means. It's gore, it's apocalyptic, it's decay. But it's home, not some bunker. You cough, a bit more blood flying from your lips. You look for something that could signal help.
Spot Check
[5]
A single flare gun on what appears to be the remains of a soldier. His body is remarkably intact, only a bullet wound in his neck. He may have died after the end, perhaps even guarding your very resting place. You grab the flare from his chest rig, and fire it into the air. You slump against the outside wall of the bunker, watching the bright red light blanket the dark night sky. You begin to fall asleep, pleased that you can finally see the moon, but not knowing if you'll ever wake up...
You do.
A man in a gas mask is kneeling over you with a scanning gadget in his hand, monitoring your wound and vitals. "How the hell did you survive that?" he asks himself, not yet knowing of your consciousness. His voice is strange: it would be normal sounding, save for the gas mask. Yet, it doesn't sound like the normal muffle of a gas mask. It sounds more like a blown out speaker, applying a rumbling bass and a strange muffle to his tone. He looks up at you, revealing one eye exposed to the elements, without it's lens. The other eye lens is there, but cracked heavily; you don't know if he only has one eye or just doesn't care about seeing through that. "Shit, awake, too?" he asks, surprised. "I'm Unk-Down. You're gonna be okay, got a battle buddy coming. You survived an encounter with one of them?"
You cough again. "What was that, anyway? The twitcher?"
The man scoffs. "Must've hit your head bad, huh?" he comments. "One of those that should not exist. Some greater intelligence, out in the void between Universes. They steal corpses, then twist them to their liking. They're not invincible, but most people with no combat experience can't kill one. You could? Not bad." He looks up, and speaks to someone you can't crane your neck to see. "Yeah, Vince! Survivor. Somehow." Vince speaks back, but you can't hear them. They must be on top of the bunker, the echo only reaching your savior. "No, heal them, send them on their way!" he shouts back, before returning his gaze to you. "He's an ex-assassin, but he also likes adopting strays. I have to talk him out of doing both, constantly. Our group has enough mouths to feed."
As he speaks, you notice a patch on the left breast of his jacket. Your mind finally remembers another detail, and you look up to confirm it: the bunker has that symbol. "Good eye, kid," he says, "The Vanguard Initiative. Trying to give normal people the power to take on the Rainmaker's Avatars, as well as all other threats that emerged during the Desolation. You're normal, so my guess is, you washed out." He pulls a hand away from his scanner, and you watch as ice crystals begin to form along the flesh of that same hand. "I didn't. I sure goddamn wish I did. You got lucky. They stole my name, my independence, and my dignity. I'm sure they wanted some body parts, too. It was never about supermen..."
"It was about expendables..." you say, slowly.
Finally, Vincent comes down from the rooftop of the bunker. He also has a gas mask on, but his head in entirely bandaged besides. He's wearing a tattered white coat, with a shoulder harness and a rifle slung to his side. In his hands is a large medical kit. "Right on the button. And there's the man himself," Unk-Down tells you.
Vincent pulls a syringe from his belt and opens the kit. "Mild sedative," he says, his voice filtered properly through his gas mask. "Make you woozy for a few hours. We'll get you somewhere clean, suture and bandage the cavity, then leave some supplies."
"How can I trust you?" you ask, too weak to lift your arm to stop Vincent from jabbing you in the neck, giving you the sedative.
"Besides the fact that you have nothing to steal?" Vincent asks rhetorically, as he sets the discarded syringe to the side. "Our group is dedicated to the weak and powerless. Like you. We're the Veris. Astrulas Veristra." At your quizzical look, he follows "Veilric. Lich-tongue. Means "Last Line of Defense." Unk-Down, his legs?"
You feel the sedative beginning to work, as the passage of time and the feeling of pain starts slipping. You are pulled away from the wall and lifted by the two, carried off somewhere. You trust them. You have to. The last thing you hear before all sounds blend into washing waves is "Someone's gotta live to see all this shit through..."
And that's it! Thanks for playing!
I started this with three goals:
Creative writing for my Earth-IV setting.
An easy game to come back with after my break.
And something fresh to reignite my passion for forum writing.
I'm proud to say all three succeeded! I had so much fun doing this!
So, some GM's trivia, since y'all wanted it:
you wanted improvisation, so I incorporated that constantly, but there were always "correct routes" to fall back on.
You were never going to permanently talk that which should not exist down. If the speech check somehow worked, the corpse's old self would have returned long enough to give you an item and tell you to run before chasing you down again.
It was the only real danger on the Right Side of the Bunker, and was the thing that broke the glass.
And with all that said, what next? Well, this was originally going to tie into a Wiki-Warfare set in the Desolation, but I had a new, stranger idea for the premise, so this is now stand-alone. As for my Earth-IV setting itself, it will live on! I'm a writer with aspirations to get into game development, book writing, and other entertainment avenues. Even before all of that, I might set more forum games here in the future. Not every story is Desolated, and not every Timeline leads there so soon. These denizens just got unlucky.
A new Wiki-Warfare will start soon! In the meanwhile, discuss, share how much you liked it, and most importantly, thank you!
Author
Topic: The Bunker (Read 3779 times)