Vans
Legacy Name: Vans

Vans was born into a wealthy family that lived smack dab in the middle of what is now called the Exclusion Zone. His family owned almost every big business that resided in the area and happily ran off any little mom and pop shops they saw crop up nearby. He was taught at a young age to stomp out the competition before they could do so to you and he took this advice to heart. He was often a vicious bully in school and barely got a slap on the wrist due to his family also generously donating to his school out of kindness. Of course their little angel could also do no wrong in their eyes, he was quite well behaved at home! Clearly everyone else had the problem. The cycle repeated the older he got though not a soul could touch him. They'd face the wrath of the family if they did. Even when he hit adulthood he was still quite the jerk but now he had his own business to attend to...
He's had an obsession with shoes ever since he was real little. He could vividly remember the time he and his folks had been outside, enjoying a small family gathering on a sweet spring day. He was running around barefoot with his favorite canine companion in the freshly cut grass. As they were running to the large oak tree that sat in the middle of the large yard, Van felt something sharp pierce his right foot. He let out a screech and upon his parents examination, someone had broken multiple glass bottles by the old oak. His folks were furious anyone would target their son and despite a thorough investigation, the police couldn't find any leads. He had been taken to his doctor and had the glass slivers extracted but a few were missed and it led to infection. Once the mention of potentially losing his foot was uttered, he went ballistic and begged them to do something fast so he didn't have to undergo amputation. Luckily a few rounds of antibiotics and clearing out the rest of the glass helped get rid of the infection and he was finally able to heal though this instance left Van quite scarred and he refused to go anywhere without shoes. It did not matter if he had tennis shoes or had to wear high heels. He dared not leave without his feet being protected. He even slept in his slippers at night just to be super safe. He had quite the collection growing up and refused to let them go, even if he had outgrown them, citing that they had done their duty and kept him safe from ground hazards and thus he couldn't just throw them out. Luckily they had plenty of space to store them and so they remained in storage for quite some time. Van himself carefully crafted shoes for all kinds of folks. Tennis shoes, high heels, sandals, any kind of shoe one could think of, he would create it for the masses to use. Thanks to his family name he was quite popular too and much to their dismay, he ended up helping the one cobbler in town by letting the repairman use one of his buildings to set up shop and assist in keeping those lovely foot protectors nice and in working condition. His fear would always remain in the back of his mind but at least he could sleep easy by providing access to children's shoes that were durable and could keep them safe. He wouldn't wish his trauma on his worst enemy.

After his parents passing he and his siblings were given their shares of the assets and they went about their lives. They allowed Van to keep their parents home since it still housed some of his precious collection and he got to work taking it out of storage in order to organize a nice display in his new home. Unfortunately this meant he had ignored the newscasts of warnings given to the public about an incoming attack and to prepare an underground space to stay in for the foreseeable future. His parents mansion had quite the underground bunker as big as the home itself and thus he didn't worry too much. He didn't truly think some pathetic excuse of a cult could even do them any harm. All they do is worship nonsense, no? By the time the alarms went off he had no time to gather his precious collection and move it within the bunker. The skies had darkened and a nasty dust cloud had begun tearing across the land, destroying anything that stood in its path. Van grabbed what he could and scurried downstairs, thankful his parents had at least prepped this bunker before they had passed. He had enough to do him for a couple of years at least since he had found no partner and had no children. But what upset him the most was the potential loss of all those lovely shoes he had worked so hard for in his short life. Now, he sat lonely in his large underground home, waiting for that ungodly storm to dissipate...

A few years had passed since the cult attack had occurred. Van had been in a deep sleep when he heard his radio come to life, jolting him out of his dream world and into reality. The voice on the other end sounded like it came from a military background and alerted anyone listening on that frequency that it was safe to travel to the surface but to be warned, their world was not like it once was. Dangerous creatures had emerged and the land was now lawless as no one wanted to claim responsibility for rebuilding. The voice wished all good luck, to keep your wits about you and to stay safe. Van was smart enough to not trust the voice and decided to see if he could get the old security system working. It wasn't hard to fix as his father had kept spare parts for repairs. After some quick observation, Van deemed that the voice had been telling the truth and took note that his once lush backyard was barren and tainted red. The sky was tainted with that same red but at least the sun was out. He wondered if it was safe to breathe out there. He truly didn't want to take any chances but he was sure to run out of provisions eventually. If he didn't come up with something soon he'd have to venture out onto that awful wasteland. It took him a week but he ultimately decided to put out a broadcast of his own. He wrote and rehearsed what he wanted to say before he finally recorded it and sent it into the world.

"Greetings. My name is Mr. Vans. I used to run a lucrative shoe business before the land became rot. Much of my collection has been ruined in the attack. But I pay well for untarnished shoes if you come across any. Come visit me at my home. Perhaps we can do business. "

With that he began setting up traps for individuals who were only interested in taking what he had left. He hoped those that were truly interested in his business would be smart enough to avoid them. He was certainly nervous about the danger he's potentially put himself in but he was also excited about this new venture. He hoped the durability of his work would have survived this attack. Perhaps one day he could resume his work though he'd have to secure his old workplace again. For now his focus was on replacing what was lost. Maybe he would try to see if any of his siblings had gotten to safety and lived through this nightmare. He sure hoped some of his family had remained alive.