A story I wrote some time ago with my Sergal Axton in a post-apocalypse setting. I borrowed features from Fallout, Metro and S.T.A.L.K.E.R. to help inspire me to write this. I may or may not continue this story we will see how inspired I feel.

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The wind blew across the desolate landscape as bits and pieces of shattered buildings and charred landscape danced across the ruined surfaces of the blackened concrete buildings. Long since shattered from the "end day", when fire fell from the skies and the cities long since brurned in the wake of nuclear fire and devastation. Now only twisted metal and rubble littered the city streets along with shattered fortifications and military weaponry that had fought so desprattely. Broken skeletons lined the streets their faces held a an expression of sheer terror forever sewn onto the sides of buildings where their flesh was blasted into shadows on the walls. Nothing dwelled here in the city, at least nothing that wanted to live very long, twisted creatures and other sorts of abominations stalked the ruins in search of an easy prey to kill. Bandits and other psychopaths too lurked the streets preying for those too weak to protect themselves while they searched desperately for scarce resources that are often contested for. Even now with the war in the streets long since over and forgotten the ruins were still slick with blood of those who still fought for survival in this dead city. With radiation and bullets still high in the air only the foolish and desperate resided in the city as well as the very skilled and cunning. For yet there were those who could survive the different machinations of the city, when it came to survival though there were those who had an uncanny ability to survive and perhaps thrive in the ruins of the dead city.

As the debris blew across the ground a lone hooded figure stalked among the shadows of the ruined buildings moving silently and swiftly with the wind only pausing to stop when he was in cover or when the wind died down. Hew knew he was in dangerous territory and one slip up could cost him his life. He ducked quickly and lowered his ears to his head as a burst of gunfire erupted in a alley nearby, as the exchange settled to afew scattered shots did the figure silently and carefully stand back up. His tail swaying behind him his green eyes scanned the area closely looking for anything he might use or a source of cover to hide behind should the area erupt in gunfire. Breathing in the dry cold air his eyes picked and his fur waved in the wind as he knelt down upon some rumble. Unlike most other mutants he was a species all to his own, he was a Sergal. A humanoid like creature which many consider a chimera of sort because their figures represent many species in which none can be truly certain of. Their prowess in combat is second to none and although they are rather limber they are stronger, faster and quite often smarter then your average human being. With keen senses and fast reflexes they are a nightmare in combat, taking great pride and joy attacking their foes cutting and chopping them apart with short razor sharp blades or a deadly accurate ranged weapon of some sort.

This particular Sergal was no different, hoisting what he called a 'bolt shot', it was a crudely made rifle fashioned from leftover steel and wood that wasn't burned in the fires of the apocalypse. Accurate and powerful its only real limitations were its weight and bulky size as well as the rarity of the ammo that was required to fire it. He had only used it in dire situations to kill a powerful mutant from a distance or to get himself out of a sticky situation. Two short steel blades hung on his back crossed in leather scabbards which had tasted the flesh of many enemies and were limited only by their range in combat. They were his favorite and most deadly weapons he could wield and in his opinion were appropriate in any situation. Kneeling in the ruins he moved again diligently and silently with the wind his keen eyes studying his surroundings with predatory like instincts.

After several more bursts of gunfire erupted further down the Road Axton decided that it would probably be much safer and quieter if he took the back alleys, from there he knew of a dilapidated and destroyed factory that he could search for salvageable materials. Lifting his bolt shot silently he made his way down the alleyways stalking quietly in the shadows. His cold green eyes searched every inch of rubble for traps that may be laying and the shattered windows for whatever may be lying in wait for him. As the wind shifted a faint wisp of air caught his nostrils which made him stop in his tracks, it wasnt of rotting mutation or anything of the like but something familiar yet dangerous. Instantly he ducked down again and darted behind some twisted debris and rubble but after a long silence and nothing but the sound of the wind and the sound of his gigacounter crackling weakly at the very weak traces of radiation. Checking it he saw that he was safe and decided to stalk forward.

The air was beginning to become moist and cool the herald of rain but this wasn't a rain he wanted to be stuck in, it was radioactive fallout that still hovered in the atmosphere even after all those years ago. Being in the middle of it was almost always fatal, since nearly being caught in it once he had learned quickly that when it was coming it was best to avoid it. After walking for a long while and dodging different foes Axton finally came to the factory that he had been making his way to most of the day, knowing the dangers that might have awaited him he chose to simply take a roundabout route to the building in an attempt to throw off the trail of someone that might be following him.

Peaking inside the building Axton checked to make sure there were no ambushes awaiting him inside the building, normally he chose to stay clear of the dangerous (and in some places highly radioactive), areas within the industrial center of the city. However among the ruins he did occasionally find a valuable piece of equipment he could use or other matters in which he could trade or food or fresh water, making his way inside he silently crept into the shadows taking cover on the other side of the fallen wall. For whatever reason he did not know he had a feeling something or someone was watching him, and with that he decided to just grab the first interesting thing that he saw and make a quick exit. Kneeling down on a pile of loose rubble Axton once again began to survey his surroundings for anything that might be of use, picking up several batteries he stuffed them in his pouch on his hip along with several cans of food he had found on his way to the factory. Despite this trip being rather unsettling it was fruitful n the fact he had been able to locate a rather ample supply of fresh water. Whether it was left here on purpose or accidentally he didn't care at the moment. Going from spot to spot Axton filled his pouch with all sorts of things that he knew he could use in his hideaway.