Deathclaw Finds a Home

Moira asked me to visit a nearby supermarket, just up the slope from Megaton. Within minutes, I trekked within view of the sprawling building. Debris littered the market’s asphalt parking lot. Rusted husks of buses and cars stood testament to the massive destruction that took place hundreds of years ago. As I approached the rectangle shaped warehouse, I heard shots ring out on the building’s opposite side. I quickened my pace to find the source of the gunfire. I rounded the corner and saw a mohawked raider open up his assault rife into a lunging deathclaw. The deathclaw towered over the mercenary scum, absorbing the rifle rounds like they were gentle bubbles. Ignoring the hot rounds pouring into it, the monster lunged into the raider, crushing him with one claw while tearing into him with the other. When the human stopped moving, the deathclaw dropped him like a toddler does a toy and started wandering aimlessly in front of the supermarket. I noticed four other dead raiders strewn about the front of the store, all recently killed.

Seems the deathclaw found a new nest.

Peeking around the corner, I observed that the deathclaw appeared wounded. It had killed all five raiders, but at mortal cost. I steeled my nerve, and stepped into broad view. The deathclaw had its back to me so I trotted forward to get into better range. The 10 mm in my hand felt heavy, unwieldy. My hands sweated. I squeezed the pistol even harder to make sure it didn’t slide right out my hand. At twenty yards, I stopped. The thing suddenly sensed my presence, its torso twisting to draw a bead on me with its beady eyes. It pivoted the rest of the way and let loose a bellowing, primal shriek. It charged.

I half closed my eyes and began to fire. I emptied an entire clip and still the monster came. I fumbled another clip, slamming it into the gun’s handle. Still the monster charged. I unloaded. The monster shuddered and collapsed before my feet. It exhaled a final gasp and then lay still. I sawed off the beast’s right claw as a trophy.

Wounded or not, I took credit for the kill.