You had a bounty on your head. Wanted dead, 25,000 caps.

The locals had already given you a name. They called you Wraith because of your unique ability to blend in. No one saw you come and no one saw you go. You moved like a ghost, hiding in the littler towns and constantly on the move.

Slipping through the streets with a shawl around your face, you managed to stay out of sights and no one seemed to notice your presence. That was until you felt the distinct press of a gun’s cold barrel against the back of your head.

“Now, darlin', If I were you, I’d be very careful about my next move. There’s no need to make a fuss.” The Ghoul spoke, his breath brushing the back of your neck. He had you right where he wanted you.