My Wasteland Angel

My Wasteland Angel

A Post-Apocalypse Romance

Chapter 1 by grimbous grimbous

(Another story I am bringing over from my Patreon. I'd just like to thank my wonderful Patrons for supporting my writing, you guys are awesome. This will be more of a romance-erotica than a pure erotica. As with my story Charlie you should expect a slow build.)

I hear nothing but a low monotone droning ring. My clouded unsteady vision swirls and fades at the edges, I focus on the small tunnel of pale sight still available to me. There wasn't much to see but I focus nonetheless, I needed something to focus on so as to not be consumed by the screaming torture coursing through me. I can feel my weapon slip from my blood soaked hand. I had neither the strength nor the will to hold it any longer. My fight was over.

White hot pain shoots up the whole of my right side. My neck and face and mouth and throat and nostrils all burn with a terrible intensity. It was the worst pain I had ever felt. More and more it was claiming me.

My vision continued to shrink and fade. Not that it mattered, all I could see now was dust and smoke. I didn't know where I was or where I was going, I just knew I had to get away. I soon find myself crawling, dragging my mangled right arm and leg behind me. The smoke is choking me, my lungs are on fire. I cough and cough, each one a fresh explosion of pain. I force myself onward. Just one fresh breath, I just wanted one draw of fresh clean air...before I died.

I reach the edge of the crumbling asphalt. I feel the hard concrete and jagged torn rebar beneath. I have some memory that I was up high...a bridge or an overpass... It doesn't matter anymore. All that mattered was getting out of this dark suffocating cloud. I pull my broken body across the curled spikes of iron. I can barely feel it now as they tear at my flesh. I'd found the drop. I could just make out a heap of trash and wreckage far below. With one final heave of strength I lurch over the side, turning as I went over the edge so that I was falling face up.

As I fall I can see up at the underside of raised freeway. A thick column of steel gray smoke billowing from it. I see an explosion tear right through a portion of it though I cannot hear it. There is a single precious moment of peace as I fall. I take my breath, the one I'd wanted so badly. It is everything I wanted and more...yet I am greedy for another. I am not ready to die!

The void claims me.


Consciousness comes back to me very gradually. I slowly open my eyes. I am aware of splintered wood beneath me along with a tattered and crumpled rough green tarpaulin. I had hit something that had some give to it, enough to save me from instant death anyways. Though with the pain I was in it seemed a cruel mercy. I see the overpass I had fallen from above. Smoke still rose from it, but much less now. It must have been hours later. Around me was a random assortment of smashed and rusted pre-cataclysm vehicles along with various other bits of scrap and junk.

I didn't even try to move, I knew I couldn't even if I wanted to. My body was shattered and I was bleeding out. It was time to make peace with my maker. Thinking back over my life...the things I'd done...there would be no salvation for me. Oblivion was the best I could hope for. If not it was the pits of hell for me.

I can just hear movement through the buzzing in my ears, objects lightly clacking together. I force my head to the left so I can see the source. A dirty young woman, roughly early twenties, was squating nearby and pulling out bits of salvage from a sack Inspecting them one by one before placing them either back inside the bag or tossing them off to the side. She was a scrounger. Quite likely taking advantage of the recent nearby battle to zip in and take anything useful or valuable before others got to it. It was dangerous work, but so was everything out here in the Wastes.

I am wracked with a searing agonizing coughing fit, I can taste blood in my mouth. She startles and spins toward me, a small pistol in her steady hand. She had probably thought me dead, just another corpse. We make eye contact. She had tanned bronze skin and rich brown eyes. Her black hair was short and ragged. She slowly stands up, her gun remaining trained on me. She is wearing thick denim overalls, only one strap remaining on it, and a man's plaid shirt that was far too large for her slender frame. As I look her over I wonder what the hell she was doing out here in the Wastes. She was dirty and a little malnourished but she looked perfectly human. No odd proportions, no extra limbs, no bodily or facial deformities. By her appearance she looks like she should be in one of the pure blood colonies. I go to speak but nothing comes out of my burnt throat. I can only lie there and look at her.

Seeing I was no threat she slowly lowers her weapon. She looks at me for a short time, tilting her head to the side. She looks ready to speak...but she decides against it. She looks me up and down and shakes her head sadly. She then pockets her pistol and returns to looking over her salvage.

Her moment distracted by me however ended up being costly for her. I see him before she does. He was an Orc like me, one of the more common mutations out here in the wider world. Humanoid but thicker of build than the pure bloods. We generally had large jaws, sloped heavy brows, and powerfully built bodies. Our bones and muscles were thicker and denser, I would surely be dead already had I been a regular human. We often had other more unsightly mutations as well. Even the slightest and least deformed of us couldn't pass as a normal human. This particular Orc that was creeping up was named Blitz, one of my own gang mates. He wore the same spiked skull tattoo on his forearm. He had been with me during the battle. The fact that he was alone made me think we'd been the only ones to survive the ambush. A tiny flicker of hope enters my heart. Maybe, just maybe, if he saw me here he'd get me some meds and help me out. I knew it was a foolish hope.

Currently his eyes were only on the human. Being an experienced raider he moved with a light step. He is within ten feet of the girl before she hears him. She spins toward him too late. His heavy fist comes down hard across her cheek, putting her down in a heap. He nabs her pistol from the ground. He wanted her alive and I knew why. Blitz wasn't one to wait for one of the whores of the trash towns. He had appetites that demanded sating immediately. Besides, none of the cunts for hire would look half as good as this girl.

He stops and takes a good look and listen around. He soon spots me. I look at him, begging with my eyes. My trembling left hand reaches out to him. He looks up and down my body, then simply snorts and shakes his head. I was a lost cause to his eyes. I couldn't be mad, he was probably right. A raider that couldn't fight was useless. Besides, I probably would have done the same to him.

He takes a closer look around, ensuring there were no threats, then circles back to the human girl who was just beginning to rouse once more. He kneels down and begins to pull the clothes from her body as a child might a doll. It takes her a minute to regain her bearings and realize what was happening. When she does she shrieks and starts punching and kicking at Blitz. Her woozy efforts are useless as he just powers through her strikes as if they were nothing.

“No! No! No! Please no!” She cries to deaf ears.

He slams to her to the ground in front of him. Her soft naked form looking so tender and fragile in this place of twisted rusting metal and broken concrete. He looks down over her body and snorts again, his face grimacing. He spits on her and grunts. “Filth.” Grabbing her roughly he flips her over, her flailing limbs hardly slowing him down as he then presses her hard face down into the ground. His big hand palming the side of her head as he pushed her down into the earth.

He takes her from behind hard and rough. She cries in pain as he grunts and huffs through his rape of this woman.

The way he held, her head held turned in his heavy hand, her cheek jammed to the ground...her eyes could only look toward me. Her dark pained eyes staring into me as she was ravished by my fellow gang member. Her body forcibly rocks forward and back by Blitz's motions but her eyes remain fixed on mine. I could see little below her shoulders. I was glad for that.

I could feel my vital strength draining as I watched this. This could very well be the last thing I witnessed before the end. My world weary heart sank as I lay there. In Blitz I could see myself. I had never done this in particular, but near enough. And I had done worse things as well. There was blood on my hands that could never be cleaned. In Blitz I saw my whole pointless life brought into sharp focus in this single moment of evil and cruelty.

He finishes with a low growl. He pulls out with little ceremony and puts himself away. Standing up he kicks her in the back, letting her know he wanted her to stay down. She huddles and sobs and stays on the ground. To not do so would surely cost her her life. Her heaving smooth soft flesh trembling in this hard bleak place. Once more I think...she shouldn't be here. She didn't belong out here.

Blitz quickly searches the area for anything of value, finding little but the sack of salvage itself. He picks it up and ties it to his thick belt. He looks me over one last time. There is no sympathy or even pity in his eyes, no emotion at all, he was simply looking me over for something worth taking. Seeing nothing he turns and leaves without a word.

It is quiet for a time. The woman slowly gets to her hands and knees. Silently she dresses. She is turned away from me, trying to salvage some shred of dignity despite what had happened. She repeatedly and angrily swipes away tears from her cheeks and eyes. She sniffs a hard breath in through her nose and lets it out in a long shuddering exhale.

I was fading. My life blood draining from me. I knew it wouldn't be much longer now.

I watch the girl get up and begin looking around. At first I thought she was looking to see if Blitz had left anything of hers behind. As she finds what she was looking for, a three foot long length of metal bar with a wicked looking point on one end, I realize what she had in mind.

Her eyes are focused on the ground as she approached me. Both her hands gripped the make shift spear in white knuckle fury. Her dirty face was now streaked from her tears. There were deadly intentions brewing behind those brown eyes.

I couldn't blame her, I couldn't blame her one tiny bit. Hell, I was happy about it. If killing me could help her find some small measure of peace at least my death would have been for something. I try to stay awake, I try desperately to hold onto consciousness so that she could have the satisfaction of watching my ugly brutish Orc face as the life drained from it. But I was losing this battle. The color had drained from my vision, the blackness was encroaching from all sides.

She stands over me. Her dark eyes looking down into mine. I see her then look at my arm tattoo, the same one Blitz wore, then back up at my face and into my eyes again. I saw barely contained rage and fresh raw hatred. I look up at her, helpless at her feet as she raised the spike above her head. I hoped she would hurry so that she could take me before I snuffed out from my injuries. I stare up at her perfect human face, only the purple lump on her cheek from Blitz's punch sullying her smooth flawless features. She is...she is so beautiful. So very very beautiful. Something ethereal, something divine. A wasteland angel come to collect my tainted soul. I feel blessed that this would be my final vision of this rotten stinking world. I feel a tear stream down my temple.

My vision is wavering, the blackness now claiming all. I wait for the stabbing blow but I fade before it comes.

What's next?

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