Coerced Generosity

This entry is inspired by my Fallout 3 gaming experience. Due to its violent nature, please note that this content is suitable for mature audiences only.

Miles away from home, the citizens of Megaton begged me not to light the match. I didn't listen.

Once the flaming stick hit the dried bushes, the wastelanders fled. Attracting the local raiders and radioactive wildlife were the last things my neighbors wanted. But I knew what I was doing. At least, that's what I kept telling myself as I warmed my hands over the blazing pile of dead wood.

After the citizens' footsteps could no longer be heard, I sat in silence. The only audible noises were the crackles from the burning bushes before me. Quite the serene moment.

Such experiences don't last long enough in this mad world. I was reminded of this when a rock the size of my hand bounced past me. Either someone had bad aim or simply desired my attention. Possibly both.

"Hey kid, whatcha doin!?" a voice shouted.

I slowly turned my head and saw a man twenty feet away. His baseball cap covered his greasy hair but couldn't hide a dirty, pimply face. He wore a brown-stained shirt and ragged pants.

"What does it matter to you?" I replied.

The man continued to walk closer. "Well, it's not too often someone actually sets camp in my territory."

"I wasn't aware that the Capital Wasteland was yours."

"Everything and everyone I see is mine, kid." The man revealed a toothless grin.

"I'm surprised you're still alive with all the Radscorpions, Yao Guai and Deathclaws crawling around. Then again, maybe they're smarter than you for not trespassing my land."

I kept my hands at my sides, but close enough to draw my holstered pistol.

The man started giggling. "You amaze me, kid. You don't look scared at all."

"Should I be scared?" I asked.

"You really don't know who I am?" The pimply-faced man laughed. "My name is Jarkis."

Jarkis expected a reaction from me but I stood there silently. Not moving a muscle.

He clenched his teeth before raising his voice. "You'd be shitting bricks if you knew what I've done to youngsters like yourself."

I replied, "What do you want from me, Jarkis? If you can't tell, I enjoy sitting by myself."

The man frowned. "You're stupider than you look, kid. I'll make this quick - drop your weapons before things get... messy."

"Try it, buddy. I see you're not even armed with a gun." I patted my pistol, holstered on my left leg.

Jarkis smirked. "I don't need a gun when I have friends." He clapped his hands.

I heard numerous voices cheering and screaming at the top of their lungs. Raiders. I hate these guys. Their footsteps echoed from the boulders behind me. They waved and shot their guns in the air. What a waste of bullets.

Three individuals with blood-stained clothes ran past me to join Jarkis. Each of them held either a leadpipe or a baseball bat. Their weapons dripped a thick red fluid onto the ground. At least one unlucky soul must have met Jarkis and his men shortly before our introduction.

"You scared now, kid? Four of us and one of you."

This time, I smiled. Not the reaction Jarkis desired or expected. He froze in mid-step.

"Wrong. I count five of you scumbags. Three of your ugly friends next to you. That makes four." I extended my thumb and pointed behind me. "One coward still hiding behind those boulders, holding a bloody ice box to protect your precious loot."

Jarkis' jaw dropped. "How the hell do you know that!?"

"Jarkis the Red Death, you have no idea who you are dealing with."

The raider's face turned pale. He began to stutter. "Y-y-ou know who I am?"

"I know what you've done to my neighbors and their families. Not many folks are sick enough to harvest organs from people while they're still alive. Yes, Jarkis. I know your name very well. And I've been expecting you."

Jarkis took another step back. "K-k-Kill him!"

The single man remaining behind the boulders dropped his box and came out to greet me with a baseball bat. One of Jarkis' nearby henchmen joined him as they both began to circle around me. They raised their baseball bats in unison. The coordinated footwork and synchronized practice swings were red flags that I was facing an experienced and lethal duo.

Although raiders typically used guns, Jarkis' crew didn't want to damage any potential organs they intended to sell - so they often resorted to melee weapons to beat and 'prepare' their victims for surgical submission. Tonight, I'm ending the Red Death's practice.

I reached for the two scabbards packed on my back and grabbed one sword for each hand. These blades were crafted by the Chinese Army when they invaded American soil during World War III. I bought these two particular swords at Moira's Supply shop as they didn't seem too old or rusty. She claimed they were in good condition. Time to see if my bottlecaps paid off.

The two proximate raiders lunged at me simultaneously with a vertical strike targeting my head. I blocked their weapons with each sword in cross form. They pulled back and swung horizontally. This time I ducked and heard the two baseball bats smack each other.

These raiders growled in frustration. They weren't holding back their aggression as they desperately wanted to add my death to their list of stupid accomplishments. They swung again and again with increasing rage but could not make contact with their target.

I could have kept up this defense but I knew I had other sickos to deal with. I blocked another vertical attack with my left sword and horizontally slashed with my right. This maneuver prompted me to spin and pivot on one foot as I continued my swing in a complete 360 degree motion. The momentum of my sword hit home twice.

My two attackers fell to the ground. One of them without his head. The other dropped his baseball bat and grabbed his neck, which spurted out gallons of his lifeline in seconds. His voice gurgled as thick, red bubbles slowly emerged from his mouth.

A minute seemed to pass as Jarkis' men simply stood and stared at their fallen companions. Jarkis' jumping up and down as well as his yelling brought them back to reality. They dropped their melee weapons and grabbed their handguns. They weren't taking any chances anymore. Unfortunately for them, I wasn't either.

Without hesitation, my hands released my swords and drew out my pistols holstered at my hips. Before the discarded blades touched the ground, Jarkis heard two gunshots. I noticed a wet stain spreading from his pants as he recognized the bullet holes in his men's foreheads.

"Where are your friends now, Jarkis?" I muttered as I walked towards him.

The man blinked repeatedly and shook his head. "Th-th- that's impossible! No one! No one is that fast!"

Common sense would dictate that he's right. No one is supposed to be this fast. But one visit to Vault 106 changed everything for me. I holstered my pistols, picked up my swords and sheathed them in their scabbards. Jarkis raised his hands high.

"P-P-please! I don't want to die!" He dropped his backpack and slowly opened it wide. Hundreds of metallic pieces shimmered from the campfire. The raider held his bag of bottlecaps as if it was a pot of gold. If he didn't have a death warrant, he could have bought a spacious house and lived comfortably in Megaton.

"See? I-I-I can give you my bottlecaps. My guns... everything!"

"I'd like that."

Jarkis smiled. "Thank you!" The man took off his filthy baseball cap and used his right sleeve to wipe the sweat off his forehead. "You are a good man!"

"We're not done, Jarkis," I said as I took a stepped forward. The man's eyes widened as he looked up at me.

"We're not?" The smile from his face vanished.

"Justice hasn't been served yet," I replied as I walked closer. "We both know how much pain and suffering you have caused. Donating your belongings won't make things fair and right again."

"Please! I was stupid! I'll never hurt anyone again!" The man moaned. He raised his hands again in surrender and fell down to his knees.

"No, you won't." I cracked my knuckles by interlocking my fingers together and extending them outward. I started walking toward him again.

"No! Wait! I beg you!" Jarkis screamed. Every step I took forward, he took one step backward. I could see his hands shaking uncontrollably and his mouth open wide. Sweat poured down his face as if he completed running a marathon.

"What do you think should be done for your crimes, Jarkis?" I asked as I got nearer. "The death penalty can do only so much, so please... convince me how this world would be a better place with you in it."

When I was three feet away, I stopped. His backward walk also ceased. I wanted an answer. A good one. And he knew whatever was coming out of his mouth would have life-changing consequences.

In seconds, he spoke with excitement. "I-I-I can free all my slaves!"

I snapped my fingers. Jarkis jumped back.

"That's a good start! But what else can you do?" I folded my arms, waiting for a followup answer.

Jarkis' jaw dropped. His eyes looked down in defeat. He shook his head. His breathing became very fast and I can see tears welling up in his eyes.

He cried out, "Please! Just tell me what you want me to do! I'll do anything!"

In a blur, I unsheathed my swords and pointed my blades at the man's jugular. Out of fright, he tripped on his own leg and fell on his back.

"Here's a hint. Tell me something you know I want to hear," I replied with a smile. "Impress me."

"I will! I will! I wi -"

"NOW, Jarkis!" I yelled.

Sweat dripped from his pale face. His eyes darted to the left and right. He was thinking. Hard. In an instant, he looked directly at my face and blurted out a name.

"Jamie! You must find Jamie!" Jarkis cried out.

I dropped one sword and with one free hand grabbed Jarkis by his shirt. I brought his face close to mine. His breath smelled like rotten eggs but I didn't care. I was finally getting something important from this man.

"Who is Jamie? Where is she?"

He shook his head. "No, not she. He's a guy. And he needs help!"

"Why does he need me? And how do you know him?" I stared at his eyes. Jarkis was probably too scared to blink at the moment.

He replied, "It was on the radio half an hour ago. He begged for someone to help him escape this abandoned building. It's called Dunwich. I couldn't hear everything he was saying because of the static."

"Bullshit, Jarkis." I let go of his shirt and the man fell to his knees. He raised one arm - as if that was going to protect him from me.

"No, it's true! I swear! My boys would have checked it out and robbed him tonight but we don't go anywhere near that building anymore. It's too dangerous and haunted."

I raised one eyebrow. "Haunted? How so?"

"I-I-I don't know. We've heard some crazy ghost stories. I even sent some of my crew there weeks ago. Th-th-they never came back. I didn't want to lose any more of my men so we stay clear of the Dunwich site now."

I raised my sword and swiftly swung it at the raider. Jarkis screamed. The blade stopped two inches away from his neck.

"Jarkis, are you screwing around? I don't have time for lies, much less traps!"

"No, I swear it! On the souls of my family!" His eyes couldn't get any wider than they were. His breathing sped up. His legs were shaking.

"Jarkis," I raised my left blade and pointed it directly at his right eye. He began to wail. His shrieking grew so loud that it began to hurt my ears.

"Shut up!" I yelled as I kicked him in the chest. He landed on his back. The impact knocked the air out of him. He stopped screaming but continued to whimper.

I simply stared at Jarkis. He curled up in a fetal position and covered his face with his hands. Five minutes ago this infamous raider was planning to profit from my murder. Now, he was nothing more but a broken man. But even broken men have value.

"I believe you." I said.

Jarkis uncovered his face with his hands. He looked up at me. Tears welled up in his eyes.

"I'm granting you a new life, Jarkis. But you have to promise me something."

Jarkis vigorously nodded his head.

"Free all your slaves and give them everything you own. Keep enough for yourself to survive but if I don't hear about your generosity when I return, I will hunt you down." He let out a deep sigh of relief as I lowered my weapons.

I raised one finger and pointed it towards the raider. "If you harm anyone ever again you are a dead man. You've seen what I can do and you know I would find you. Do NOT break your promise, Jarkis. That would make things ... messy."

I picked up his bag of caps and closed it. Then I threw it at its owner. The backpack bounced off his chest.

"I promise." Jarkis said. No hesitation. "For the rest of my life, I promise!" The man's sobs grew louder as he repeated himself. "Oh god, I will keep this promise!" He sat cross-legged on the floor, looking down at his bag. Tears streamed down the man's cheeks.

"Congratulations," I said. "You're officially a retired raider. Now do something good for once and tell me where this Dunwich building is."

Sagacious Prognosis

This entry is inspired by my Fallout 3 gaming experience. Due to its violent nature, please note that this content is suitable for mature audiences only.

"How bad is it, Doc?"

"Sorry, son. You only have one day left to live."

"What!?"

"Just kidding!" The doctor laughed. I didn't.

I wanted to punch this joker in the face but that would be unwise. Besides guns, doctors are the most valuable assets in the Capital Wasteland. The entire city of Megaton would unleash their wrath upon me if I even threatened their only physician. And he knew it too. Asshole.

"Son, whatever you breathed into your lungs, it's not killing you." The doctor sat down in the office chair and raised a foot to rest on his desk. "In fact, you're healthier than you've ever been."

"You gotta be joking." I said.

He looked straight into my eyes. "Not this time."

He threw me a folder of documents. "Compare last year's medical charts to today's lab results - I won't bore you with the details, but your physical conditioning and even radiation resistance have radically changed - for the better."

I began rummaging through the medical files. What I read was unbelievable - no, impossible. "There's something wrong with your equipment."

A digital voice shrieked from the corner of the doctor's office. "How dare you! I am not a piece of equipment!"

The doctor and I turned our heads to the source as it propelled itself with power ducted fans. Everyone in Megaton referred this six-armed motor robot as Gizmo, which often assisted the doctor in medical surgeries and procedures - including my physical and psychological examinations. Its voice was inspired by some British actor from the pre-war days. Charming but I never felt comfortable with artificial intelligence.

Gizmo hovered near me and I could detect its one-eye camera staring me down. Thankfully, this floating piece of junk had no defensive measures as its programming was purely for medical purposes.

The doctor raised his hand. "Easy there, Gizmo. The young gentleman didn't mean to offend."

I rolled my eyes. "Sorry, Gizmo. I just think your sensors are flawed."

The robot raised all six of its multi-jointed steel arms. "Blasphemy! I've never been wrong in my life! That's 200 years, 129 days, 13 hours, 46 minutes, and counting, you damn Yankee!"

I ignored the talking tin can and handed back my medical file to the doc. "This chemical agent is responsible for the deaths of countless wastelanders and Vault 106 citizens. Countless! How can you say this chemical is not harmful?"

The doctor bit his lip. "I don't know. My only guess is that when this gas was initially released, it was too potent for the human body and thereby produced disastrous results. However, after decades of dilution, perhaps exposure to this gas is harmless - if not, beneficial."

I spat. "Beneficial!? I hallucinated about my dad attacking me in that fucking vault!"

Gizmo interjected. "Sir, there are no indications that the patient is suffering from any drug abuse that would typically produce hallucinations. The patient's testimony is very peculiar. Perhaps he is just an idiot who has family issues?"

The doctor leaned back into his chair. "How do you know you were hallucinating? Didn't you tell me that the Vault door was manually operated to seal you inside? That doesn't make sense if you were the only person left alive in Vault 106…"

I slammed my palm on the doctor’s desk. "I don't know how that door closed!” I glared at the doctor - for a moment, his face turned pale. “And I'm not going back there to find out."

The doctor raised his hands in a surrendering gesture. "Son, I'm not asking you to. I'm just saying that whatever is in your body is not hurting you. Shit, just look at that bandage you wasted!"

I looked down expecting to see a red-soaked bandage on my ankle. Only a few hours ago it was bleeding profusely so I requested Gizmo to replace the bandage after cleaning. But it was dry. I ripped it off and my heart skipped a beat. No blood. Not even a hint of a scratch.

"What the hell is going on?" I murmured.

The doctor picked up a pen and began scribbling something on his clipboard. “Your prognosis gets better. Let’s talk about reflexes.”

Without warning, he threw the pen at my face from point-blank range. Instinctively, I raised an arm. After two seconds, I realized that the pen rested on the palm of my hand.

"What the f - "

The doctor stood up. “Young man, you have no idea what you are capable of. I have a good feeling you will change our world as we know it.”

"I think you over-estimate me."

He placed a hand on my right shoulder. "Remember, Vault 106 was cursed. But you’re not. You're blessed."

I stepped back as the doctor’s hand dropped off my shoulder. "What do you know about blessings, old man? We live in a rotting world where people kill each other over a bottle of water. And if we're not killing each other, something inhuman out there will finish us off."

"Son, we're still alive. That's a blessing. Don't tell me you'd rather be dead. That would be a waste of my time."

"And mine!" Gizmo yelled as it propelled itself to another room.

The man was right. I needed to focus on what I have as opposed to what I don't have. And at this very moment, I had something I’m just beginning to understand.

I had one more question that begged for an answer. "How do I know this chemical won't kill me later on?"

"You won't." The doctor shrugged. "By that time, who cares? You'll be dead."

I slowly nodded. I heard exactly what I needed to hear. And it was enough to move forward. Life is short, after all.

He extended an open palm. "Now pay up some bottle caps and let me help others who don't heal as miraculously as you."

I shook the physician’s hand with a firm grip. "Thanks, Doc."

"No problem. Come back when you inhale something else."

This time, we both laughed.

29 Years of Gratitude

Today is a special day for me.

Not because I officially become 29 years old but because I have incredible moments to reflect upon for the past 29 years.

Five memories that brought me to tears this morning.

• Break Dancing in Japan: dancing more hours than I sleep on a daily basis taught me you can find community in anything you love to do. Performing in front of thousands is something I'll never forget. If only SYTYCD existed when I was in college. Hah!
• My 3 Breakups: each one reminds me how idiotic and selfish I am. I'm thankful for who I am today but regret hurting loved ones who never deserved the pain I inflicted upon them. A learning process I never want to experience again.
• Accepting Christ as my Lord and Savior: knowing that someone as sinful as myself can be redeemed completely inspires me to share the Good News everyday.
• Deceased Friends and Family: high school friends to grandparents - a harsh reality I came to realize: change happens and living life without them hurts a lot.
• Meeting Mrs. Mewie: coincidental that we first met online? Coincidental that we're both 4th generation Chinese Americans? Coincidental that our family members knew each other way back from their college days (30+ years ago)? Coincidental that Mrs. Mewie and I laugh with and at each other every freaking day? No way. We were meant to be.

I realize I don't reflect as often as I used to. Life has been extremely busy focusing on the things I love - career, church, writing, married life - today was exactly what I needed to be grateful.

Surviving Vault 106

This entry is inspired by my Fallout 3 gaming experience. Due to its violent nature, please note that this content is suitable for mature audiences only.

Time is precious, especially when you don't have much left.

Every fiber of my being wanted to leave Vault 106. But what I discovered must be destroyed. This evil had claimed too many innocent lives. The footsteps of Vault 106's insane citizens grew louder. Any minute this room will be filled with blood. Hopefully not mine.

I stood by the vault's kitchen door and poked my head out in the hallway. I cursed as I saw over a dozen individuals in grimy stained clothes rushing from the opposite end. They were carrying lead pipes, baseball bats and knives. I was armed with my shotgun but I knew that alone wasn't going to stop a fanatical mob in these tight corridors. I shut the kitchen's door and looked for a lock. My heart sank - no lock.

Beyond the door, one of the freaks yelled, "More fun for everyone!"

A female voice shrieked, "Rip out the prize from his corpse!" I didn't have the luxury of pondering what that prize may be.

I scanned my immediate surroundings. There was another door that led to an empty bedroom. Perfect. I reached into my backpack and activated five frag mines. These babies had electronic motion detectors. Once powered up, any sudden movement would trigger its explosive effects. I planted them on the kitchen floor and closed the metal door behind me.

I saw a bed at the end of the room and sat on it. I closed my eyes and whispered a quick prayer. "God, please protect me."

The kitchen door opened and psychotic laughter echoed throughout the vault's hallways. Like music to my ears, I heard a series of instant beepings followed by powerful sound blasts. The bedroom's metallic door shook but held firm. Silence reigned the vault. Thank you, Jesus.

I opened the door with my gun ready. I've never been so happy to see severed human limbs sprawled across the kitchen floors. The insane Vault 106 citizens would never harm another innocent soul again.

I traveled deeper into Vault 106, as I needed to replenish my food, supplies and ammunition. The rusty stains and dried bones of murdered citizens were a common decorative theme for each room. Every skeleton I came across justified my actions for ridding the world of these lunatics. The problem was solved.

I knew I was wrong the moment my vision temporarily blurred. Suddenly, my perception of the world literally turned blue. I thought I walked in a room with blue-tinted light bulbs but something horrible was happening. This old-bloody splattered vault instantly revealed itself as a spotlessly clean and functioning vault. Even the old ragged furniture looked brand new. Impossible!

My heart thumped faster. Sweat trickled down my right cheek. My mouth felt dry and my breathing became more difficult. What happened to the air - that's it! There was something in the air! Gas!

The vault's computer archives I accessed earlier explained the release of an experimental gas that prompted Vault 106 citizens to create havoc. How could I be so blind? The vault citizens were not the problem. It was the gas. The same gas that I breathed into my lungs!

I didn't know if I was too late and too exposed to the chemical agent but I knew I needed to get out. Holding my breath for as long as I can, I bolted towards the exit. Unfortunately, my current position was two floors below ground level. Running without breathing that long of a distance would incapacitate me. I had no choice but to inhale the tainted air as I fled for the surface.

After reaching Vault 106's ground floor, I thought I might be less exposed to the experimental gas. After all, it's been decades since this gas was released throughout the vault. But then I saw something in my way. No someone. I raised my gun to fire but the figure stepped out into the light.

My legs froze. My jaw dropped as I recognized this familiar person. "Dad?"

He replied, "Where do you think you are going, son?"

Strangely, I also heard his voice from behind me. "Breathe in the Blue, son."

I turned and saw Dad. Again. Behind him was another man... who looked exactly like Dad. And another behind that man. I knew I was going crazy. That damn gas was affecting me!

"You're not real!" I yelled.

My Dad(s) stared at me with glazed eyes. In unison, they said, "Of course I am..." After a few seconds of silence, all of them shrieked, "And you will stay here with me!"

These things that resembled Dad sprinted towards my position with that familiar menacing laughter. I panicked and fired. Once the bullets appeared to make contact, these creatures would instantly dissipate into nothingness. The projectiles bounced off the vault's metal walls. More and more images - ghosts - of Dad came out of the shadows. His many faces showed nothing but rage and hatred as I ran towards the exit.

My legs started aching and I began coughing uncontrollably. The mob of Dads were close. I felt their chilling breath upon my neck. These phantoms screamed at me to stop. I saw a faint yellow light down the hallway and realized it was the Vault's only entrance. Freedom was in sight.

Someone or something pushed a series of buttons on the exit's control panel. The door started to slowly close. The light from the outside world began to fade as the vault's gigantic metallic door nearly covered the entrance. My legs felt sluggish but I kept running. My life depended on this.

In three seconds, the vault would be permanently sealed from the outside. I used every last bit of strength to dive forward. I shut my eyes and screamed. I heard the giant metal door shut. I felt a phantom grab my left ankle with an overwhelmingly icy firm grip.

I continued to scream, thinking that I failed to escape - imagining myself as the latest prisoner to Vault 106. But the ghosts' voices ceased. I felt a jagged rock against my chest and the gritty sand under my palms. My blue vision faded as I perceived a red gash on my left ankle. Miraculously, my coughing stopped as I sucked in fresh air. With a new sense of hope, I found myself staring at the exterior steps of the rusty entrance door. I survived Vault 106.

But nothing good came out of this cursed location. Whatever I breathed into my lungs was still there. I could taste its subtle acidic taint. This foreign substance lingered within me. Perhaps there was nothing to fear. But what if this chemical agent was designed to remain dormant? What if I was a walking time bomb, just moments away from unleashing destructive madness unto others?

These questions I could not answer but I knew someone who would.

Discovering Vault 106

This entry is inspired by my Fallout 3 gaming experience. Due to its violent nature, please note that this content is suitable for mature audiences only.

There is something magical about the world we live in. Everyday, we discover new people, objects, places and experiences.

There are moments of excitement and joy as we find hidden treasures. On the other hand, there are moments of horror and disgust when we unearth things that were never meant to be found. Today's discovery proved to be the latter. It was a Vault entrance.

Vaults, like the one I was raised in, were built underground to endure nuclear attacks. Vaults reopened upon two conditions: 1) World War III's nuclear bombardment ended; and 2) the immediate environment was measured with safe radiation levels for human colonization. From that point, Vault citizens were called upon to rebuild what was left of America. My vault opened several decades after these two conditions were met, but that's a long and different story.

This particular vault door was already open so I assumed radioactive monsters would be inhabiting this seemingly abandoned man-made cave. I noticed dried blood stains smeared across the steel floors and walls. Typical visuals in a post-apocalyptic world. Nevertheless, I was concerned. Perhaps Vault 106 citizens were attacked by raiders when the Vault doors reopened? Little did I know that raiders were going to be the least of my worries.

As I walked down the quiet corridors of the underground structure, I found a computer. The machine was still operable and juiced up by the Vault's self-sustaining generators. Thank goodness Dad disciplined me to study while growing up - I applied my science skills to hack into the active terminal. Education is precious, especially in a world where virtually every school had been reduced to rubble. Dad would be proud how quickly I bypassed the computer's security.

Reading the computer's files, I realized I entered Vault 106. More importantly, I discovered the grim truth why Vault 106 was no longer a refuge for civilization. According to its electronic records, the Overseer initiated an experimental gas release on all Vault 106 citizens. These folks were totally unaware of the experiment and they suffered the ultimate price. The gas prompted the unwilling participants to go berserk. In seconds, they lost their reasonable senses and began murdering all those who were immune to the chemical gas. The records didn't give me much more details but I knew enough. I was in trouble.

I heard movement down the hallway. A survivor? What does an insane citizen look like? Did the effects of the experimental gas wear off? Did someone survive the attack and escape the insane mob? I was determined to find out.

I ran as lightly as I could down the hallway. I detected two distinct voices in the next room. The door was already open and I overheard an ongoing conversation. A male and female were having small talk over the radroaches infesting the place. Sounded friendly and with no taint of insanity. I even detected some flirtatious comments from the male voice.

There was hope and I clung on to that as I turned the corner. I also readied my shotgun. I took to heart a note from a fortune cookie my Dad gave me for my seventh birthday: "Hope for the best, prepare for the worst." Such advice enabled me to experience many more birthdays.

There was a kitchen - full of stocked canned foods. The place was a mess with rust stains on the walls and floors. Rotten food littered across the kitchen counters. Not the best way to maintain a healthy lifestyle but hey, I wasn't here to judge.

I saw a bald-headed man and a blonde woman, each wearing a dirty pair of Vault 106 uniforms. Unwashed clothes are common for any roaming wastelander so I found no indication of an unstable mind. The man seemed to be in his fifties and the woman in her young twenties. In these dangerous times, the age gap between romantic partners was nothing to be concerned about - survival, co-dependency, and companionship are key factors in any modern day relationship.

The couple was sitting across from one another at the dining table. They were holding hands and continued to talk about pesky radroaches. After a few seconds, the young woman noticed my presence. Under all those layers of dirt, I could detect a pretty face. Then the man turned his head towards me.

They both gave me a blank stare. I stared back for what seemed like forever. Awkward, to say the least. Eventually, I lowered my gun.

"Are you okay? Do you need any help?" I asked.

The man stood up and slowly revealed the most wicked smile I have ever seen. I don't think I could forget those yellow jagged teeth stained with blotches of brown.

I continued. "I'm from Vault 101 and I mean you no harm."

Then the young woman stood by his side. She started laughing hysterically.

Finally, the man spoke, "We have another present. Let's open him up!" He took out a lead pipe from his pocket while the woman picked up the baseball bat on the kitchen counter. Her laughter grew louder and began to hurt my ears.

I aimed the gun at the man and spoke, "Don't do it, friend. It doesn't have to be this way."

His smile exposed more yellow, crooked teeth. Some brownish drool began to emerge from his ghastly maw. He raised the lead pipe with his left arm and screamed, "I'm going to enjoy this!"

That was the last thing he said before his right arm exploded in countless bloody pieces of flesh and bone. My shotgun never fails in close corridors. The man's smile disappeared as his bald head turned deathly pale. The lead pipe dropped to the ground, quickly followed by the man's body.

The woman's laughter ceased as she looked at her partner's silent form. The man's right side sprayed blood all over her. She turned towards me, her face drenched red.

I raised my left arm with an open palm facing her.

"Please! Don't come any closer or I will shoot you too."

Blood continued to drip from the woman's face as a familiar disturbing grin began to emerge. Suddenly, she jumped at me and swung the baseball bat at my head. I ducked. The wooden stick crashed against the wall adjacent to me.

I rolled forward avoiding another swing. Dropping my gun, I grabbed the sledge hammer slung to my back. I swung and heard a loud crack from the woman's legs. Her body flew backwards.

The woman stood on one leg, still gripping her baseball bat. The other leg dangled - I must have broken something. The hairs on the back of my neck froze as she didn't seem to even notice her crippled state. Without hesitation, she started to limp towards me. My heart began to beat faster. I couldn't look away from her haunting smile - she was so close I could see her yellow, crooked teeth stained with dark brown spots. As her broken body approached, I realized the layers of dirt and fresh blood covered any semblance of a human being. I didn't see a pretty face anymore. I saw evil.

"Stop it! What's wrong with you, woman!?" I yelled.

"Die! Die! DIE!" She snarled.

I took a deep breath. The psycho bitch lunged towards me and I struck as hard as I could. My sledge hammer drove straight down on her cranium. I heard a rip and a split-second later, her head bounced off the floor. The woman's body toppled over, showering the kitchen walls with a new coat of dark red.

My jaw dropped as I stared at the woman's severed head. Then I looked at my hammer to see anything that could have decapitated her. There was nothing extraordinary - just a typical wooden stick with a heavy metal block at the end. None of this made sense.

I heard footsteps from below. Several footsteps. They were getting louder. I had two choices. Run away or hold my ground. I checked my ammunition and reloaded my shotgun. I knew what had to be done.

Time to purge Vault 106 from this madness.

Triples

Inspired by my Facebook friends, here are my life's triples...

Names I go by

1. Mewie (Mew + Louie = Mewie)
2. Mikey
3. M.K. Louie

Jobs/Careers

1. Marketing Communications Strategist
2. Legal Analyst
3. Break Dance Teacher

Places I Lived

1. Glendale
2. Tokyo
3. Syracuse

TV Shows I Watch

1. 24
2. Lost
3. How I Met Your Mother

Places I Visited

1. Australia (love those mates and koalas!)
2. Lake Tahoe (favorite domestic vacation)
3. Las Vegas (2nd favorite domestic vacation)

People that E-mail Me Regularly

1. GRX Clan
2. Mrs. Mewie
3. Pulse Ministry

Favorite Foods

1. Red Meat
2. Rice
3. Sushi

Songs I Love

1. Edge of Heaven - Prism (inspires me to write my novel)
2. Zocalo - Armin Van Buuren (theme song for one of my characters)
3. Journey to the Line - Hans Zimmer (best sad song ever)

Books I Would Read More than Once

1. World War Z - Max Brooks
2. Gears of War: Asphos Fields - Karen Traviss
3. Job - God

Movies I Love

1. Heat
2. LOTR Trilogy
3. Dark Knight

Things I am Looking Forward to

1. Expand the Kingdom of God
2. Play Basketball
3. Game it up with the GRX Clan

Three Drinks

1. Midori Sour
2. Lemonade
3. Cytogainer Chocolate Malt (my daily boost for energy)

People I Miss

1. My friends on the East Coast
2. My friends in Japan
3. My friends in Southern California

Explore and Focus

2009 begins as a very challenging year.

The economy is badly damaged. I attended a funeral of a loved one. Friends are suffering from broken relationships and the fear of unemployment. Not the best of times.

I am reminded of the times I hit rock bottom and the two practical things I did to rise up again. Explore and focus. Explore those things you always wanted to know more about - whether it's taking up a musical instrument, playing a new sport, or learning a foreign language. Next, focus on something you know you are interested in.

There are three major benefits to exploring and focusing.

1. Escapism: life can be extremely difficult with stress and grief. Escape from these overwhelming circumstances by exploring something fresh. Once your focus is on to something intriguing, stay there for a little while. Escapsim is not meant to be avoid or deny your problems - rather, your escapism should help you calm down, rationalize and ultimately resolve a very difficult reality.
   
   
2. Productivity: passion to learn and practice boosts your productivity. There is so much we don't know in our lives - the whats, hows, wheres and whys. Wouldn't it be fascinating to recognize and perfect the unknown? Focus on a hobby and you will develop fulfillment in something, even if temporary. Focus on a skillset and you will have the potential to enhance your career. Focus on knowledge and you will empower yourself to connect and better understand others.
   
   
3. Sharing Life with Those Who Can Help You Most: as you escape and progress in your area of interest, you will come across wonderful individuals who share the same passions. These people are in tune and experienced to what you are seeking and because they share the same goals, they will most likely support you to succeed. Ultimately, you will find yourself united and integrated with a community that helps you appreciate what you enjoy most.

When I failed the California bar exam for the second time and remained unemployed for several months, I needed to explore and focus. I discovered Lynda.com and was introduced to the world of graphic design. After a month of training and experimenting, I developed a portfolio with powerful applications such as Adobe Photoshop, Illustrator and InDesign. A week later, I landed my current employment! Best yet, today, I still use Lynda.com (certainly helps when your employer pays for the service) to enhance the quality of my work. Not only can I produce meaningful art and effective designs, I network with other professionals who can aid and inspire me to improve.

In the end, my faith tells me that everything happens for a good reason, despite the dreadful circumstances. Perhaps we are meant to experience such moments to mature into something far greater and stronger than we ever imagined. And when we don't see any hope, I often read this simple yet profound message:

"The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain."
- Kahlil Gibran

This year requires exploration and focus but imagine what you will accomplish once you meet these requirements. I sense much joy ahead.