The Girl with the Blood Red Hair

The Goodsprings General Store was quiet. The only sound was the murmur of the old radio in the corner. Chet sat behind the counter on a chair older than him, a lit cigarette in his mouth. He blew out a puff of smoke and put his feet up on the counter. It was a slow work day today, Chet had only had 3 customers so far, but he didn't mind. It was rare that he got a chance to relax.

Business was good in the General Store. People often came in late at night, too drunk to remember where their house was. Chet was kind enough to remind them, but not before convincing them to spend a large amount of caps in his shop. The fact that he was the only ammo vendor in Goodsprings also helped his sales. No competition meant that people were forced to come to him for all their killing needs.

It didn't look like anybody was going to come into the shop any time soon and Chet was hankering for some booze. One of his favourite things about his shop was that it was right next to the saloon, meaning he could go down there for a drink, then come back to his shop quickly to continue the working day. Chet ground his cigarette in the ash tray and started to get to his feet. That's when she arrived.

A girl walked into the Goodsprings General Store, a girl with blood red hair. The hair ran down to her shoulders, and added an almost extravagant beauty to her. She couldn't have been much older than 25, and was wearing a Vault 21 Vault suit that showed off her attractive figure. Her face was slightly pale and mostly emotionless. Her grey eyes were just as pale as her skin, and had a hint of innocence in them, but Chet had a feeling that was just for show. Chet realised that this was the girl that the robot had rescued a few nights ago. From what he'd heard, the girl had taken two bullets in the head and the robot had dragged her to Doc Mitchell for treatment. Chet had to admit Mitchell did good work. There wasn't even a scar on her pretty little head.

The girl walked up to the counter, looking around the shop as she did so. As she approached, Chet felt his heart beating. He hadn't seen a girl that was even mildly attractive in Goodsprings for a good many years, now this girl had walked in and was taking his breath away. He took his feet down from the counter and turned on the charm as the girl reached him.

"Howdy, what can I do for you?" Chet said, a friendly smile on his face. The girl didn't return the smile.

"I need a weapon." She replied without much emotion.

"You've come to the right place. What kind of gun would you like?"

"Not a gun. I need a melee weapon."

"Like getting up close and personal do we?" Chet said in a mildly suggestive tone. The woman didn't react to his flirting. "This little beauty should do the trick." He reached under the counter, and pulled out a shovel. He plonked the shovel on the counter for the girl to behold. She looked slightly interested, and picked up the shovel to look it over.

"Not only can this baby smash people's skulls in, but you can also use it to dig up graves. You'd be surprised how many graves in the Mojave have useful stuff in them. It can be yours for only 35 caps." Chet's sales pitch worked like a charm.

"I'll take it." She said, dropping the caps onto the counter as she did so.

"Excellent." Chet said enthusiastically before scooping up the caps. The girl tied the shovel to her back with a leather belt, making a makeshift holster. "Will there be anything else?"

"Stimpaks."

"How many?"

"5 will do me."

"Excellent, that will be 500 caps." For the first time since entering the shop, the girl showed some emotion. Granted the emotion was anger, but it was an emotion none the less.

"What?" An expression of pure rage appeared on her face. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"Sorry, but it's 100 caps per stimpak. Stimpaks are worth quite a lot these days." The girl growled in frustration.

"Fine." She huffed, before turning and walking towards the door. Any chance Chet would've had with the girl was gone now. He sighed before reaching for another cigarette. Before he could light it however, the girl came back. Before Chet could do so much as smile, she struck him over the head with the shovel she'd bought moments ago. The force of the blow smacked Chet's head against the counter, crushing his head between the shovel and the counter. He screamed in pain before falling back off the chair.

"What the hell?" He screamed, attempting to get to his feet as he did so. Red spots danced before his eyes, his vision was blurry, and he tasted blood. Using the back wall for support, he got to his feet and reached for his 357 magnum revolver. At that exact moment, Chet's vision returned, and he saw that the girl was running at him with the shovel. A look of complete and utter rage filled her face. The innocent look in her eyes was gone, filled with pure hate, and her mouth was set in a snarl. He tried to bring the revolver up to fire, but she struck first. She slid over the counter and in one fluid movement smacked Chet's hand. The force of the strike knocked Chet's hand against the wall, breaking it. He screamed in pain as the bones in the hand audibly shattered and the revolver fell from his hand.

Chet wanted to attack. He wanted to fight back, but the girl was far too quick. She wielded the shovel like it was made of paper, effortlessly swinging it with great speed and strength. He backed away, but there was nowhere to go. Behind him was a small space wear his mattress was, and the only other way to go was over the counter or the past the girl. There was no way he was going either of those ways. An evil smile played across the girl's lips as she saw his helplessness, and she quickly attacked again. She jabbed Chet in the ribs with the handle of the shovel, before swinging the metal point of the shovel like she was swinging a golf club. The shovel's metal point struck Chet in the face with crushing force, knocking him flying back. His life flashed through his life as he flew and he realised that he hadn't really accomplished anything, other than ripping off a few townsfolk. His reverie was interrupted as he hit the floor with a thud, all the air officially out of his lungs and his jaw broken. He lay unmoving as she walked up to him for the finishing blow.

"How rude of you to flirt with me without even asking my name." The girl said, her voice filled with venom. "It's Layla by the way." Chet tried to reply, but he was filled with too much pain, and paralysed by fear. "I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT HAPPENS TO PEOPLE WHO RIP ME OFF!" She yelled before driving the point of the shovel into Chet's neck. The blade of the shovel skewered Chet's neck with ease, spraying blood everywhere. Chet gurgled for a few seconds as blood poured from his neck, then went silent. Layla wasn't finished however. She struck Chet's face with the shovel again and again, visibly shaking with anger as she did so. Eventually she relented her assault, and returned the shovel to the holster on her back. Chet's face could now barely be called a face. It was a pile of blood, giblets and pieces of brain, making Chet himself completely unrecognisable.

Layla walked away from the brutalised corpse, and sat down on Chet's chair behind the counter. She took a moment to compose herself, letting her anger die away. Then she leaped into action, rising to her feet before going to the back of Chet's shop and finding a black bag.

When a customer went into the Goodsprings General Store the next day, there was no sign of the shop's proprietor. There was however a large amount of blood, and pretty much Chet's entire stock was missing. Nobody ever figured out what had become of Chet, and before long somebody else took over his shop.

The night that Chet died, Layla had stuffed the body in the black bag, waited till nightfall, and dragged it to the Goodsprings Cemetery. She ran into Victor on the way, but he hadn't noticed how suspicious it was that she was covered with blood and pieces of brain, and dragging a foul smelling blood soaked bag. She then buried Chet in the graveyard; funnily enough she'd used the grave that the man in the chequered coat had forced her to dig a few nights ago.

She'd then killed Doc Mitchell, buried him too, and slept in his house. She left early the next morning, and when the people of Goodsprings awoke she was gone.

Now Layla walked down the lonely road out of Goodsprings, with only one thing on her mind. Revenge. She was going to track down the man in the chequered coat along with his buddies, and she was going to do things to him so horrific that they'd make angels cry. Nobody messed with the girl with the blood red hair. Nobody.