Diary of Tyson Andrews,
October 22nd, 2077.
Carpool was late today, and Austin was up to his Official Office Asshole Antics again. He stole the Nuka-Cola I was saving. I even put a sticky note on it that said "Tyson Andrews". He claims that he "never saw it". Asshole.
Anyway, aside from that little incident, things have been alright. We all chipped in and got a box of donuts. The case I'm on seems to be going well, looks like the defendant is going to try for a plea bargain. Considering how much shit he has against him, we have the upper hand in negotiations.
Back on the homefront, Shaun is over that cough he had the past week. Thank god, Cybil got it and I was afraid I'd carry it into the office. Cybil's doing well. that Mr Handy bot has taken a lot off her hands, and we actually have time to go out and do things again. We're thinking about going out to Boston this weekend and taking a hike at the zoo.
I am a bit worried about the stuff happening on the front. Looks like our boys are making great strides into Red turf, and I wouldn't put it past the commies to try something. I've enrolled us in the local vault program, they gave me a massive veterans discount.
Gonna have to repair our kitchen faucet, it's been leaking again.
Diary of Tyson Andrews.
Unknown Month, ??nd, ????
I can't believe it. just. everything is gone.
I woke up, was getting ready for work, and the TV starts going crazy. Then....troops moving down the street. Cybil grabbed Shaun, and we ran like hell towards the vault. We almost didn't make it. we'd probably be better off if we didn't make it.
They brought us in with a bunch of other people. whole processing line, like a people factory. They were all reassuring us, telling us it would be fine. lies. they stuck us in some sort of pod, and everything got cold
and
and I woke up. and these people...feral people...were pulling shaun out of his pod. probably to eat him or something. and then everything got cold again.
next thing i remember I was laying on the floor, wet and soggy, and the whole vault was in ruins. Cybil...oh god Cybil...I looked in her pod and she was sludge. Everything had rotted into muck. Same with the others. Oh god, the others. The whole thing smelled like rotting meat.
I stumbled out, managed to find a pistol on the skeleton of one of those vault tac fuckers. Looks like he ate it. I was groping my way out, when I touched something hard and sleek. And moving. I started firing off rounds like crazy, and I heard a screech. Knocked it out into the light. It was a cockroach. A giant cockroach. like in one of them sci-fi movies.
I heard a skittering sound, and saw a bunch more of them move out of the darkness, attracted by the gunfire.
I kept shooting until I was out of bullets. And then I kept swinging whatever I could grab at them until I found myself covered in blood and roach guts, hitting the mangled corpse of one with a hammer and screaming.
I threw away the hammer, and continued wandering the metal corridors of the vault. I noticed a slight breeze. I followed, groping at the walls. Light! I tripper the fallen vault door, and scrambled int the atrium. From the top of the elevator shaft I could see light.
I collapsed and curled up in a fetal position. I stayed like this for god knows how many hours.
Diary of Tyson Andrews.
Unknown Month, Day 01, ????
There is nothing out there but rocks and ruins.
Oh god, I emerged into the sun, weeping with joy to feel it on my face after who knows how many years.
I stumbled off the lift and heard a crunch.
A skeleton. A bunch of them. All camped around the vault exterior.
I may be the only man left in a world of the dead.
Yes, I saw to others. The ones who took Shaun. But they looked feral. And who knows how many years ago that was. They're probably long dead, the last members of a race dying in the world it created.
My head hurts. I find it hard too think. I think I may have brain damage from the cyrogenics.
I tried walking away from the vault, to find something, some evidence I'm not alone.
I found my house. My neighborhood. All in shambles.
I scavenged through them, hoping to find some trace of life. I only found a few bottles of wonderglue and some turpentine. Teens used to get high off of that, didn't they? Or did they fry their brains and die?
At this point, both of these sound appealing. I'm going to dump a bunch of these into a rag I pulled off a skeleton, and huff it.
If anyone finds this Diary, be it a man, an alien, or a sentient cockroach, consider it the final legacy of me, Tyson Andrews, and of the 21st century man.
dairee of Tyce Andrewz
day too
fug, hed hurt. why i writen in buk? cuz writin iz whut smrt peopl do and i smrertist motherfuker around, cuz everyun iz dead. I'M THE OLY ONE LEFT, AND I RUL THE SKELLIJANS AND ASHIZ!!!! I AM TH SKELIJAN KING!!!!!