Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock.
A Chance
The drill bit into soft flesh and stilled the screaming throat even as it began. He withdrew and battered the corpse aside, stumbling to the next through pain that wasn't important because she was screaming.
Two more bared his way and he tore through them. The metal and rubber that were once armour now pined him back, choking his movements and slowing him. He was too slow.
They came so fast. Too many, and too fast. He kept bellowing and roaring and killing and killing and it didn't matter and they just kept coming and the screaming started, and when it stopped it left a hole that dragged at the world, sucking it in, pulling him through the pain, but not. Fast. Enough.
The silence was so much worse than the screaming. So much worse that the screaming.
They left, screeching and barking and whooping and laughing. The silence warped them, they echoed forever but made no sounds. They left him with her.
He took her hand and pulled her up. She fell back. He pulled her up. She fell back. Pulled up. Fell. He took the syringe, put it in her hand. Clasped the tiny fingers around the handle. They slipped away. The syringe fell and the glass shattered on the tiles of the stairs and he didn't reach to pick it up.
He howled at the flickering lights. No words. No words. She fell back and no more words, ever. No more ever. She fell and no more. No more. Shattered on the stairs and no more ever. The sounds echoed but the silence remained, it did not relent. It drowned out the ever.
The drill bit into tile and he held her in one hand. Held her to his chest and roared and squeezed and howled and snapped and cradled and it would not relent, it remained stained his hand with refined sin and the screaming. She hung limp and splintered. Drowned out.
He didn't know her name, but when he held her close he could hear the sea.
The End
Author's Notes: It's 3am over here. I don't know what this is. It hurt me to write. But the thought of it was keeping me up, so I had to do something with it. It might not be very good, but I've never written anything like it before. Honestly, I hope I never do again.