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[Fallout 4] Perspective of a Wastelander, Part One

Welcome back to another series! I hope you've been doing well these past few days. You won't know the name of this Wastelander, but you may have helped him. He's going to go through Hell and back to find answers to his problem, but forces lurk in the shadows, preparing to take him for there own uses. This is his story.
I don't own the Fallout series, this is a fan work. Respective rights belong to Bethesda and Zenimax.
 
This is the journal of: Who the fuck would read this?
 
September 2nd, 2285: 300 Caps richer
 
Ha! I can't believe they'd fall for it! I told em' I was a part of a caravan; they where more than happy to hand over the data they spent ages finding!
It's something about reactor efficiency, whatever the fuck that means. If I get this to the right people, i'll be rich! That look on that girls face when I said I was a part of a Caravan; that I would split the profit with her! Goddamn, that was funny!
I also told the local trader that the salvage I was carrying was 'family heirlooms'. They brought a rusted toaster and scrap electronics from me...for 300 Caps. I swear, these people are idiots.
 
September 3rd, 2285: Armed and Armoured
 
So, my old gun is fucked. It's a goddamn shame. It served me well back in the Core Region. I had to strip it down and sell the parts. My fatigues where ragged as well. I decided to spare my unit patch. '11th Interior Guard, Shady Sands Division'. I decided to buy a well made scavvers jacket and a pristine double barrel shotgun. Those'll serve me well.
Anyway, the Holotape they gave me is pretty valuable. I decide to buy a blank one just incase someone holds me up.
I've spent to long here. I gotta' get to Diamond City to sell this off.
 
September 5th, 2285: Scary Bald Man
 
I ran into a scarred and grizzled mercenary today. He demanded to know where the data was. I told him I hadn't a clue. He told me to turn out my pockets, usually i'd have said no. But, he was flanked by two people wearing black trenchcoats. He was from the Instuite. He wants to know where the data is. He's brought more of those black trenchcoat people in. If the townspeople rat me out, it'll be bad. I've got to go, now!
 
October 25th, 2287: New Beginnings
 
This is where I was all those years ago. I ran. Instead of giving the data back to the townspeople, or just stepping up to the mark, I cared more about making Caps, then I did about preserving life. Then again, I probably would've gotten killed like the rest of them, so fuck that option.
The town used to be lively, it even used to have its own security force. It's homes now have sunk into the mud, it's people are now skeletons. It's now home to a different kind of life, the Institute Synths.
I don't know why I came back. My jacket is worn, its practically hanging by threads now. The shotgun isn't looking to great either. The wood furniture on it is flaking and the barrel needs a rubdown with some steel wool.
I can't do anything for them now.
 
October 26th, 2287: Ambush
 
Fucking Hell! Raiders!
I didn't see them coming until they were right near me. Fuckers popped over the ridge. I got the first one with a barrel full of buckshot to the head. I fired a second time, but that went wide. They returned fire while I was fleeing. They got me in the leg. I've been dragging myself along.
There's six of them and one of me!
They've backed me into a old waste shed. Unfortunately, it doesn't contain fertizler. It's got a quite a few Radiation barrels. I can hear them, they're waiting for me. Shit, i've only got three shells!
I've got my gun pointing towards the entrance, but three shells aren't going to do much if i'm rushed.
 
October 27th, 2287: They brought more friends
 
Yesterday I said seven. Today it's fourteen. Two of them tried to rush me through the doorway this morning, both are dead.
My leg has gone to shit. I can't stand anymore. I tried digging out the bullet with my hands, but that went as well as you'd expect. The binding i've done has already been soaked through with blood. I'm starting to feel a bit nauseous.
I've got one shell left.
 
October 28th 2287: Shit!
 
Oh, hell no! They've rushed through! You won't take me alive!
October 30th, 2287: They took me alive
They rushed me, and began to beat the tar out of me. The first hit was a crashing stamp to my head and then, the beat down began.
The Raider crowded around me, throwing heavy punches and kicks. One of them undid the bindings and pressed their fingers into my gunshot wound. I couldn't do anything but scream.
Then, they kicked me in the head again, which was hard enough to black me out.
 
 
I looked around, I was back home in Shady Sands. My adobe home hadn't changed. It felt like I had a bad hangover. I got my service pistol from the nearby counter, it's weight in my hands at least providing some comfort. I walked to my bathroom, leaning against the walls for support.
I looked deeply into the mirror. My face was bloodied and covered in dirt, my left cheek had a particularly nasty gash. I stumbled to the nearby cupboard for some bandages. I didn't find any.
I became more and more desperate. Rooting through the cupboard with abandon. Creating a ruckus of clatters and bangs.
I wrenched myself away from the cupboard and clutched at the sink. I looked into the mirror again. I was clean. What the Hell is going on!?
 
What the fuck?!
 
Then, my reflection moved, it smiled at me and it's eyes started glowing bright yellow. It crawled it's way out of my mirror. The glass of the mirror stretched like a thin membrane and it tore itself free.
I fired twice. The first shot shattered the membrane like glass, the second embedded itself into the things shoulder. It was me. And it wanted it kill me.
It released a feral scream as it scrambled towards me.
I fired four more times, each one hitting the mark. It died slowly, writhing in pain. I was feeling a sense of horror. Then, another copy stepped through the mirror. I levelled my gun, it clicked.
I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I slammed my front door open. In front of me, where four NCR Troopers, in full body armour, their rifles pointed directly at me.
"Look, i'm enlisted! You've got to help me, i've got my ID Papers right here!"
As I reached into my pocket for my ID Papers, there was a loud shattering sound in the distance. The sky turned from blue to dirty orange in seconds. The Troopers turned to see what was going on. A great bolt of lightning struck metres away. Seconds later, there was a blinding flash.
I covered my eyes, while the Troopers dropped their weapons and began screaming. A great howling wind picked up; then, there was a great explosion and a massive shockwave that shook the very ground itself open.
The clouds parted, and a giant of a person was seen. He looked older than time itself. He had wispy white hair and trailing beard. His dress sense was odd. It looked like he was wearing a fancy mattress sheet. On his head, rested a halo of thousands of worlds, each circling around each other faster than the eye could see.
He spoke, his voice was booming and brassy: "I have judged you all unworthy".
With that, he threw a bolt of lightning, which slammed home with a resounding boom. Soon a mushroom cloud enveloped the landscape, homes where swept away in seconds, people were picked up and tossed around by the very wind itself.
And then, I was caught up in the maelstrom, my body slammed into a billboard with a sickening crunch.
And then I woke up. I felt like fucking shit. I kept blacking in and out of conscious. Around me voices spoke of 'the Gift', 'heretics' and 'holy visions'.
Where the fuck am I? Why's there a lighthouse here? Who the fuck?! Ghouls! Oh God, no!
submitted by That_One_Engi to LifeasanNPC

JUDGMENT AT MAIN STREET - Horror/Thriller (24 pgs)

Logline: Orson, a lone traveler running from a storm and his past, finds himself stranded at an inn. The two residents of the inn seem more interested in where he's coming from, rather than the impending maelstrom. As the storm approaches, their confrontations grow indicative of more sinister forces at play...
Resubmitting this with a better logline and a more digestible font. The story is loosely adapted from a Greek tragedy, though prior context is not inherently necessary here, as the mystery of what came before is woven into the story. Any sort of feedback, perhaps specifically on the dialogue or the description parts, would be greatly appreciated!
(PS: slight mistake in the title, it is 21 pages and not 24)
Link: https://documentcloud.adobe.com/link/track?uri=urn:aaid:scds:US:8fe5b2db-ef90-4f8d-88a3-c06feb20921b
submitted by imposingthanos to Screenwriting

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