Natural Born Killer

Last of all, I must let my steely facade slip for a moment and confess: this is horrible. Really, really horrible. If you think the detail with which I have described my deeds above is some kind of indication of the relish I felt when committing them, you're mistaken. It's just that the depth of the simulation lends itself to such verbosity. And, in fact, I very nearly grimaced with every kill. (I say "nearly" because I've just finished re-watching The Sopranos in its entirety, so witnessing gore has become like sneezing.) This is not like mowing down zombie space marines, or even zombie strippers: Bethesda spent what was clearly an enormous amount of time injecting as much pathos and tragedy into the Capital Wasteland as possible, and inflicting further cruelty on these beaten-down, hard-bitten little computer people feels like a real-life moral transgression.

Is it fun, though? I'll have to get back to you on that. It's certainly creative. I'm ignoring every scripted path the game offers - after all, whenever a quest is thrust upon me, I shoot the messenger's arms off - and that's not as simple as you might think. I'm burning every bridge with Fallout 3's story designers that I come across, and it takes quite a lot of skill and forethought to make sure those bridges burn just right.

Speaking of bridges, I should tell you about Arefu, because it illustrates what I'm talking about. I'm already on my way to the most luxurious destination in the Wasteland, Tenpenny Tower, but on the way, I take a little detour. The location of this tiny hamlet - sitting atop a dilapidated, cloven bridge that once led straight into DC - was given to me by Lucy West, who is now an amorphous mass of bloody flesh, and will need to be mopped off the floor if Moriarty's dive is ever going to pass another OHS inspection. Arefu has a population of four, and that number looks set to dwindle thanks to the recent arrival of a bunch of nasty Edward Cullens. The second I arrive, Evan King, the village guardsman, requests my help in protecting the area. I agree, he thanks me, and I shoot him in the eye.

Arefu's inhabitants aren't as approachable as Megatonians, but they're certainly more intelligent. After hearing the commotion outside, they all lock their doors. Unfortunately, I spent too much time back in the Vault trying to kill Liam Neeson to bother learning how to lockpick. I try banging on the doors with a lead pipe - "Free hugs!" - but they just tell me to go away. One woman does eventually slip out with a hunting rifle to try her luck, but in the end, I have to leave Arefu not-entirely-destroyed.

I'm not going to let it get to me, though. As I trudge through the grey mud on my way to Tenpenny Tower, the sun rises, and I begin to plan. The Tower's residents - a sizeable group of pureblood humans who've sequestered themselves from the rest of the world so as to live in pre-war luxury - like to think they're safe from the horrors of the Capital Wasteland. By the pricking of my thumbs...