Malcolm's Story Part I

The first thing he felt was the flames from an explosion. A single rocket had been fired towards his home and struck its side, creating a gaping wound of fire and debris. The screams of his children fueled his urge to protect them.

"Get the kids out of here, Darla. NOW!" He screamed, grabbing his Combat Rifle and ammo belt which held his Revolver, quickly fastening it onto his waist and cocking his Rifle. "But, I can't leave you-"Darla started, but he turned. "GO! NOW!"

Kicking open the front door, Malcolm let loose a flurry of bullets. The shells rained down beside him as he screamed in defiance at the bandits as they raided his home. Bullets flew towards him, some nicking him and others flat out missing. Bandits weren't known for accuracy.  Malcolm was determined to protect his family no matter the cost. A psychotic bandit got too close to Malcolm and his response was to butt him with the rifle's stock against his mask, cracking it and causing the psycho to step back. Malcolm opened fire into the man's chest, blood splattering as he fell. Unfortunately, a familiar voice shrieked out and Malcolm turned.

They had his family. His dear Darla and their two precious children. Their leader held her by her beautiful brown hair, a repeater pistol pressed to her temple. "Drop your weapon, Malcolm."
He wanted to shoot the man dead where he stood, but he did not want to risk his family. He dropped his Combat Rifle and looked to the ground. "Release her…I did as you asked." He stated, looking to the bandit. The bandit chuckled behind his mask, the eyes of his mask seeming to light up a hellish red.

"Poor choice of words." He muttered before pulling the trigger. A single shot rang out, and his wife's body hit the ground. "You said release her, so I did…from this mortal coil! Haha! But she won't go alone, oh heaven's no!" Before he could cry out, his two children were also shot down before his eyes. The bandits stood, laughing at the dead bodies as if it was some sort of joke. Malcolm's whole world had been destroyed before his very eyes, and these men were laughing. Tears ran down his cheeks like twin rivers as he charged, leaping and tackling the leader to the ground. "GIVE THEM BACK! GIVE THEM BAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" Malcolm howled, lost in a fury as he let loose a furious beating onto the leader who took it and laughed. His goons grabbed Malcolm and threw him off, and as Malcolm rose with his Revolver drawn. "I'll kill y-"

Before Malcolm got his sentence out, he felt a bullet lodge into his body. The pain was excruciating, but he still aimed his weapon. "Kill him already you idiots!" the leader yelled, getting up to his feet rather calmly. Three bandits stood between Malcolm and his family's murderer. Without thinking, Malcolm shot once and one bandit felt a bullet pierce between his eyes and exit out his head, brains and blood following. The other two bandits opened fire with repeater pistols, showering Malcolm with bullets like rainfall.

The pain was like nothing Malcolm had ever experienced. His chest, arms and legs were miniature explosions of blood and pain. Crying out, Malcolm fired off a few more rounds in vain as he fell onto his knees. The bullets finally stopped, as Malcolm found it so very hard to breath. 'They'll pay...' he thought to himself, as he looked up and saw their leader.

"This all could have been avoided if you'd of just been a good little fool and given us all your money. Well…I'd of probably killed you anyway." Malcolm's vision was blurring fast. "C'mon boys. Let's see if there's anything valuable left in this piece of crap home..." Malcolm's last clear image was a bandit walking over to his wife's body and shooting it one final time.
Then everything turned black.

The darkness that enveloped Malcolm began to subside, as some noise began ringing in his ear. The sounds of growling, barking, and tearing of clothing. Malcolm forced his eyes open, and through blurry vision he noticed a few Skags trying to feast on the fallen bodies of his family. It had been hours and the bandits left, so the dead bodies had attracted the local creatures. "Get away from them!" Malcolm shouted, drawing their attention. It was a pack of four Skags, so he was outnumbered and wounded. He was surprised he hadn't died of blood loss, but he didn't waste time. Reaching to his right hip, his hand gripped his Revolver, a Law model. Unholstering it and aiming it with his right hand, he closed an eye and opened fire. The hand cannon jerked in his grip, and one less Skag existed to plague Pandora.

The three Skag roared and charged towards Malcolm. Gritting his teeth, Malcolm rose to one knee and moved his left hand up to steady his right. The blood loss was affecting not just his vision but his strength, and after that shot his hand was shaking a little. The first one leaped for Malcolm, and he lashed out with his hand cannon, smacking the creature to the right, turning and firing two shots. He had three shots left for the remaining two Skag before needing to reload, so he had to make them count. The next Skag leaped and tackled him down, but not before he got another shot off. The other Skag was hit in the leg, wounding it and causing it to stumble and skid. Malcolm looked up to the Skag as it roared, preparing for a good meal. "…Eat this!" He shoved his revolver up and into the gaping mouth, waiting until the Skag closed down and fired. The Skag's head splattered like a watermelon, caking Malcolm in brains and blood. Shoving the body off and ignoring the pain in his arm, Malcolm limped over to the last Skag. It was whimpering in pain, and Malcolm put the end of his Revolver right into its eye. "Adios, stumpy." Malcolm muttered as he pulled the trigger, effectively blowing the Skag a new air hole.

Malcolm grunted in pain as he rose to his feet, limping over to his fallen family. "My darling Darla…Connor and Sara…" His eyes closed. "I'll...make them pay." Before he would be avenging anyone, he needed some medical attention before he bled to death.  He tried to limp towards what was left of his home, but his strength was gone. "I'm…sorry…" He managed to say as he fell once more, face first into the dust. The darkness came for Malcolm once more, and this time he was prepared to stay within it.

"Hey…Hey, wake up!"

A voice echoed in his mind, and a firm smack hit his cheek. "Ow…What the..?" Malcolm opened his eyes, and found himself staring up at a bright light. "You were almost a goner. Good thing I showed up." A feminine voice rang in his ears. "Who…" He tried to sit up, but he was still weak. "Lay there and relax, you idiot. You've lost a lot of blood and you're still healing. You've been out for about a week."

Malcolm managed to sit up on the table, looking over his bandaged wounds. "Where…?" He tried to ask, and the female walked over and poked his forehead with her index finger. "I'll ask nicely one last time. Lay down, you boob, otherwise you'll reopen those wounds I spent so much time mending." He blinked and lay back down as she asked him.  The images of his dead family and the events a week ago flashed through his mind, and he couldn't help but shed a few tears. "I've…got to make those bandits pay for what they did. They took everything from me…But I owe you thanks. You saved me…what is your name, if I may ask?" Malcolm looked to her, as she had her back to him and was fidgeting with something. She smiled and turned her head just a little to face him. "Name's Delilah. Sorry we met under these crappy circumstances, Mr…?" He shook his head. "Malcolm…" She turned back. "I think I'll call you Mal for short. Sounds way cooler, and is easier to say."

Malcolm blinked. "Okay. How much longer do I need to lay here before I can be up and about?" He looked to her, and she turned and smiled. "I think a couple hours and you'll be ready for travel. What're you going to do? Not go out for vengeance right now, I mean, those bandits will kill you like they almost did before!" Malcolm smiled. "It won't be like before…They jumped me. This time I'll jump them. I need you to take me back to my home, if you don't mind. I need to bury my family." Malcolm managed to rise again, sitting up and letting his legs dangle from the table. She shook her head. "I told you not to move, but I can see you're incredibly hardheaded. You're going to be the death of me already, I can tell." She smiled and laughed.  "I didn't leave your family there, managed to pack them up in my vehicle and brought 'em back. I figured you'd want to give them a proper burial." Malcolm hopped to his feet as she spoke, stretching and popping his back. "Thanks, Delilah." "No thankin' necessary, Mal."

It took an hour to get back to his homestead, but once there Mal wasted no time. He took his family one at a time and buried them beside each other. Three graves and he marked each with makeshift crosses. "I'll avenge you, my family…I swear. "

Delilah walked up beside Mal, arms folding. "And just how do you plan on that?"

Mal smiled, turning his head to look back to her. "I've got a plan…"