The following are excerpts from the daily writings of the once- citizen of Rapture, John Garland. The journal depicted was salvaged after the discovery of the city of Rapture in 1971. Points of interest were compiled into this article, and the original copies are currently in storage in the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C.
3:00 PM
Friday, January 13th, 1950.
Unknown Location.
At this point, I'm not sure where I am. But I know definitely that my boat has drifted out to sea significantly since I went to bed last night. I was last at port in Iceland in a town whose name I have no hope pronouncing or attempting to write. Ah, that brings me to my name.
I am John Garland. I am a marine biologist who was researching the migration of whales. At about 7:00 PM last night, I decided that I should go out a ways to monitor them better.
This was a terrible idea on my part for 3 reasons:
I have no crew,
The waters were rough and I neglected that the current would carry me out,
And I have no way to communicate with the mainland.
I just really just wanted to get that check from National Geographic….
I am cold, worried, and in need of food. In this rain, I cannot see any land nearby. I fear that I might die here.
So I am collecting my thoughts in this journal, which I intended to use to collect data. If I do survive, I'm going to murder the man who told me the whales migrated this way. If I don't, I would like the reader to kill him. Please. Pretty please.
Saturday the 14th.
I'm going to die. That's it. I have no food, so I'm going to die.
Sunday the 15th.
Don't murder the man with bad directions. Strand him like he did me first.
8:00 AM, Tuesday the 17th of 1950.
I see land!
A light tower, no less!
I had just woken up today when I saw through the fog a tower with bright yellow lights at its base. I am setting my motors to full in that direction. I hope to God they have food…
11:15 AM, still the 17th.
City of Rapture.
At the moment I am sitting in a bathysphere, empty except for myself, as it moves into the city called Rapture. I should explain.
When I landed on the island, the boat was out of fuel. I tied it to a light post near a double staircase and walked into the open door at its top, running from the cold and still hoping for food. As I entered, the door closed shut behind me, and lights flickered on. I was terrified to see what looked like an angry giant staring at me. I then laughed at myself, because it was only a statue. The large golden man held a banner saying "NO GODS OR KINGS. ONLY MAN." I was a little perplexed, but I shrugged it off and followed the staircase nearby into a bathysphere room. The door sat open and I thought it would help me get some answers to where I was.
I was startled again when the door closed after I pulled to close the door. I suppose being on a quiet boat for so long made me jumpy. I sat down on the cushy bench beside the lever, and smelled something wonderful. I looked at my feet and saw a metal lunchbox. Without really thinking, I opened it and began devouring all its contents as a movie began to play. I only listened as my eyes were too distracted by the sandwich.
It basically detailed the story of a man who was fed up with the government or the church taking his money, so he founded an underwater city where "by the sweat of your brow, Rapture (the city) can be yours too." At this comment, the screen for the film pulled up, and I looked out briefly to see a beautiful line of buildings ahead of me, all standing freely underwater. The sphere passed what looked like a theater and I saw a humpback whale pass by. The man from Reykjavik was right! I retract my earlier statement of murder. I was just cold and hungry. The sphere finally passed through a gate that said "All good things of this earth flow into the city." Hopefully that means a place to stay for a while. And more food.
Noon, Wednesday the 18th of January.
I have never been happier to be stranded! This great city has opened its arms to me quickly; they have already provided a place for me in a place called Mercury suites, with a wonderful under view of the sea (and those lucrative whales,) and the food is great for chemically grown stuff. I was out for a long job, so I can afford to stay here for a while. I will probably try the theater in a place they call Fort Frolic first. I'm a sucker for theater. But there's still the matter of getting home….
3:00 PM, still the 18th.
Apparently, I'm screwed on getting home. Yeah, the cop I asked about it said if I leave, I'll expose the secret of the city. But that's not really a problem. I was in an orphanage all my life, so I have no family, and the dried-up cow I once called my wife wants nothing to do with me, so I guess I'm here to stay. I'll never get the big check from National Geographic.
… Oh crap. I need a job.
Thursday the 19th of January.
I suppose there's really no need for a man who studies where fish live in a place where they hunt fish. Really, machines don't do much of the work here, because that would be "parasitical", so why can't they use a man who knows where to hunt?!
Fontaine Fisheries is full of crap. And even more so, Frank Fontaine.
Friday the 20th.
Now I'm pissed. Not a single place yet. I REFUSE to be a secretary!
Still the 20th.
I must never be cremated. The people at the crematorium are VERY impolite. And I've always wondered how they burn the bodies, too…
Saturday, the 21st of January.
I need to wait at least a week next time before I get frustrated. I suppose there is a place for me!
A good man by the name of Dr. Suchong says he would love my services as soon as I can start. I'm going to help in the use and research of something called Adam. They say it will revolutionize our whole way of life. And I will get to work in the field gathering and studying the slugs that produce the substance. I will start tomorrow, as there appears to be no standard workweek down here. Should be good anyway!
Sunday the 22nd.
I'm a little nervous about this. There's no real danger, I'm sure, but I always get jittery in a new job. The facilities at Suchong Research and Development are very clean, despite all the children running around. Apparently, they somehow improve these girls' genetic codes (according to the Doctor) and educate them. They don't tell me much, but I'm sure that's how they treat all the new guys.
My field coworkers are very… odd. They can't talk, and they always have their diving suits on. I think these are mentally handicapped men, but that's just a theory.
I have also heard about something developed form Adam called plasmids. These are like self-defense tools placed into your own genetics. I know I'll probably have no reason to use them, but I should get one anyway. Call me paranoid. They have plasmids that give you power over electricity, bees born in your arms, and fire available to the workers in Suchong R&D. It's new stuff, so they may be a bit… iffy.
But I am a bit of a pyromaniac in my free time…
7: 00 PM, Monday the 23rd of January.
I have just injected the Incinerate plasmid. It was probably the most painful thing I've ever done. If you've ever eaten a habanero pepper, imagine that, but IN YOUR VEINS. That was an awful idea…
Still the 23rd.
Never mind. Good idea. I may look like a burn victim when I use it, but there's nothing quite like lighting the fire at home by hand. Literally by hand. This is great. Also, I found out what the deal was with the girls at work and the retards in the suits. Dr. Suchong said the girls and men in suits are in a "symbiotic relationship". The little girls generate Adam when they have a slug like the ones we harvested attached to their livers. The men in suits protect them. Seems a bit much for a slug, but I'm only the one who collects them. Although I would really like to know why they have to live in those dingy suits. Ugh.
Tuesday, the 31st of January.
I haven't been able to write for a while. There's this new girl I met in R&D named Sophia Silver. She's beautiful, and she says she likes the sexual freedom here in Rapture, so I suppose you know where this is going…
Again, I like it here. A lot. And with all the (ahem) activity, I may write less frequently.
Thursday, the 2nd of February, 1950.
I had to defend myself with my plasmid today. There is apparently religion down here, against Andrew Ryan's will, but it's here. The biggest is some insane cult called the Saturnine. A man in a deer mask made of crappy wood came up to me and hit me in the forehead with a pipe wrench. He yelled that he needed my blood. I'm normally a nice guy, but the super-religious nuts make me… less friendly.
I didn't try to kill him, but fire eats a person faster than I thought.
I was terrified when the police brought me to Ryan himself. The cops pushed me onto my knees, and Ryan told me to stand. I did so, twiddling my thumbs nervously. He told me to relax and offered me a drink. I was confused. I asked if I was going to prison. He laughed and told me, first off, that there were no prisons in Rapture. Then he said that what I did to "that religious parasite" was a good deed for the city. If anything, he said, I should be honored.
He sent me home with some free Adam to spend at a Gatherer's Garden. This place gets better –and weirder- all the time.
Friday, the 3rd.
I've spent my Adam on a new Plasmid they have out. It may take some getting used to, but I think I can get used to it. It's a teleportation plasmid. All I have to do is think of the image of wherever I want to go, focus, and the next thing I know, I'm there.
I think I may use it to surprise Sophia.
Still the 3rd. Midnight.
I, John Richard Garland, am I genius! Sophia appears to like spontaneous romantic gestures like I did. And once again, I got something nice too, if you know what I mean.
I'm proud of me.
Wednesday, the 8th of February, 1950.
I should recap what's happened.
First, Saturday morning, Sophie asked out of the blue if I would like her to live with me. I agreed, and she immediately got up and went looking for boxes. This is moving very quickly. I hope she doesn't overwork the feminine charms, or she could convince me to sell my house!...
I just scared myself a bit.
So, by Monday (we don't have a lot of stuff), she was moved in with me. I'm not really sure how to explain it, but I think I love this girl.
Or maybe it's that other thing she keeps making me feel… it's hard to tell for a man.
Tuesday, April 3rd, 1951.
Apparently it was love.
It's been so long since I've written. During all the rearrangement, Sophie moved my journal and some other personal effects to the upper shelf of the closet. Every once in a while I'd say to myself, "tomorrow I'll find that journal, tomorrow I'll find it." Then "tomorrow" was more like "someday".
How time flies.
I've proposed to and married Sophia. We were dating some six months before I decided to do it. Some people said it was a rash move, but I didn't care. She's my wife now, and nothing like the first one. I can't even describe it.
The wedding, however, was very odd. I've never even seen an atheist wedding, which is the norm here. But that doesn't really matter anyway. I have her.
Wednesday, April 11th, 1951.
Now that we're married, Sophie and I have decided to have children. She's pregnant right now, and we're pretty sure it will be a girl. I'm a little really scared about that. Oh well. I'll manage.
Of course, we'll have to move into a bigger place….
Wednesday, the 18th.
Well, we moved. AGAIN. This is just a little bit annoying. But Dr. Suchong has edited the genetic code of our child, so Sophie won't be pregnant as long. Good thing. The mood swings are intense.
On another note, the Saturnine have a bit of competition now. Looks like there are Bible-thumping smugglers moving about now. I don't think these guys will be as violent, but those Crusades were pretty rough….
Saturday, the 21st.
I was right. I guess these aren't the peaceful type of religious people. There have been a few break-ins around the area. The security-bots handled it well. I just suppose it's a bit sad that people have to let that kind of prejudice get in the way of their minds.
Sunday, the 22nd.
Something odd happened at work today. I was allowed to see exactly how the men in suits are made the way they are.
It's possibly the ugliest process I have ever seen.
I know now why there are no prisons here for serious criminals. If you are a criminal, they bond you to one of those suits, change your vocal cords, cover you in some kind of pheromone fluid so the little girls will follow and trust you, and then erase you mind completely. This is the most bizarre thing I've seen in my whole career.
And I've seen walruses mate.
Ugh.
God help me if I ever get stuck in one of those.
Monday, December 17, 1951
My daughter Liza was born today.
Sophie died in the process.
I can barely write; I don't know what to think.
Is it my fault?
I only have her now….
In the years that followed, a great deal of things happened in the life of John Garland. The raising of a child all by oneself, learning of words, first steps… all too much for a document such as this. It is best we continue from the beginning of the end…
Sunday, the 19th of May, 1957.
Suchong R&D has been making a lot of cuts lately due to poor financial planning… including me.
I can't believe that after all the work I've put in at that place, that they have the nerve to fire me!
… But not all is lost. A smuggler has given me an offer to bring Bibles in to Rapture for quadruple the payment of what I got at Suchong. I can't tell Liza. But I we need this money. I'm going to commit high treason…
For my daughter.
The reader of this document should be warned that the contents of this journal contain no such thing as a happy ending…
According to medical records, John became addicted to Plasmids as he tried to protect himself from the local police. His neighbors noticed his problem, as did his former employer. And action was taken.
Saturday, June 8th, 1957.
Those bastards took my daughter!
My little Julia was taken last night by Suchong and his men!
They held me down and told me she would be perfect for the Little Sister program. When I woke up, it was noon and my whole house was empty.
I think they might want to kill me. Is it because of the smuggling? I needed the money for my daughter after they fired me…
I have to kill them. I HAVE TO KILL THEM…..
Still the 8th.
If you are reading this, I am most likely dead. After I couldn't find Suchong in the conversion labs, I tried to find my daughter there.
I incinerated every man there until I had found Liza.
They already had her with a Daddy. I hate myself for not acting faster.
The security-bots are on the way.
Should someone ever find this journal, do not kill the man with bad directions. Kill Andrew Ryan for beginning this Hell.
Sophia, Liza, I love you.
The man once called John Garland was then captured and converted into Subject Zeta, a quickly discontinued type of Big Daddy. In his new Big Daddy body, he was last seen wandering the bottom of the ocean, gathering slugs. His daughter was found and turned human once more by the legendary Jack, in 1960.
It could be presumed that he was killed after the escape of Subject Delta in 1970.