December 25, 2241
I haven't written an entry in weeks, but this is important. Whilst out doing our deathclaw exterminations, the gang and I found something. We'd stopped at the original Gun Runners factory a day before to pick up some well needed ammo, when a stranger mentioned something about hearing music out west. He described it as the kind of stuff you hear on the radio these days, but happier. Piquing my interest, I eventually convinced the boys to head out west and check it out. I talked to the fellow, nice guy. He didn't seem to be part of any faction, but was doing pretty well for himself, probably thanks to that Winchester P94 I spied on his back. Asking for directions, he told me that it was around 40 or 50 miles west of Gun Runners. That'd be about a day's travel on foot.
Without further ado, the guys and I left for the west, to discover anything we could.We slaughtered a few deathclaws along the way, but that isn't important. What is important though, is that we found the music. Ten hours west of Gun Runners, at the very end of California itself, we were inexplicably drawn to the sound of music. It seemed to be coming from underwater. After much exploration, we realized that there was a secret hatch by the shoreline. It was unlocked, so we jumped in. Once all of the water drained, the secret was revealed: a vault.
Now I've only been to one other vault in my life. Back when I was a boy, my father was what you could call a vault-hunter. I preferred the term "seeker", but most folks aren't that educated these days. Unfortunately, my father only found one vault during his lifetime: Vault 15. We even lived in it at one point, until the rats forced us to leave. This vault was entirely different however. From the moment I unlocked the massive rolling blast door with the number "25" itched into it and we stepped inside, fantastic, joyous music began to play. The lyrics said something about trees and holidays and such, but I'll be damned if anyone knows what those are.
Strange red and green lights lined every wall and big fake, plastic trees adorned each room. However, blood was the primary decoration in this Vault 25. Miguel became queasy at the sight and smell, so we let him stay behind at the entrance while the two of us delved deeper into the vault. Things became more and more gruesome as we went. Dead men were hung from the ceiling by the red and green lights. Children, forever sleeping in their beds. Every calendar had only the month of December and every date was marked the 25th. What importance December 25 held in the past, I have no clue about now.
We must've found hundreds of corpses, but no survivors. But it was down in the third level where we found the strangest thing of all: a protectron security robot, deactivated and surrounded by the highest body count yet. The unique thing about the protectron was the clothes it wore: a red jumpsuit and long, pointed red hat, with a false white beard. Now comes the bad part: Fish touched the machine. Fish, a mechanic, has a natural talent when it comes to technology and all that. But this particular robot was one that no one should've ever gone near. After fidgeting with the contraption for a few minutes, the red terror sprang back to life... or whatever you would call robot conscience.
So now you're probably wondering: why is there blood on this journal? Well, it happened like this. The protectron stood up and shouted cheerfully in a deep, booming voice, "Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas!"
Jay being Jay, walked right up to the thing and exclaimed, "Damn! What the hell are you?"
The robot's yellowish visor suddenly transitioned to black as it announced, "Profanity detected. Naughty = 1. Termination = True. Termination commencing."
The very second that turrets shot out of its hands, we got the hell outta there. Taking the elevator back to the first floor, we arrived to find Miguel's dead body on the floor, pelted with bullets. Determined to survive that murderous robot, we left the vault and sealed the door behind us.
Now in a small settlement east of Vault 25, I'm contemplating going back in. That robot... what if I could manipulate it for my own uses?