Name: Queen Of Hearts.
Summary: Splicers still felt emotion, and this splicer was in love, in love with the man Ryan called Parasite.
Note: This is weirddddd.
The splicer was in love with him. Splicers don't have genders, they are splicers, they don't have sexualities, they are splicers.
But by a standard not followed in rapture, this splicer was what the people on the surface referred to as females.
And, regardless of what you are led to believe, splicers still felt emotion, this splicer just felt intense love for the man in front of her. Maybe he reminded her of the male she had lived with before the Adam, the Eve, the man she grieved for months after he disappeared.
In rapture, people just wandered off and didn't come back. In rapture, everyone was insane.
Maybe this man was too.
But she knew he wasn't, words wormed at her ears, a feeling In the air telling her to attack attack goddamn attack the turtleneck wearing motherfucker, Miss, first to kill him gets as much Adam as they can carry, I promise.
Her fingers gripped to the frame, toes doing similarly as she held herself flat to the ceiling. She was resisting the urge to hum, or shriek, or giggle, he was brimming with Adam, that boy. She just wanted to say hello.
Her feet hit the carpeted floor silently, at the same time as four other splicers. They jumped him, skulls exploding as his bullets met them in an embrace. They fell to the floor, one, two, three, four.
The splicer felt something bump her toes, a rather cute mask, decorated in blood. She untied her own mask, fingers grazing over the beauty of her face - the good doctor fixed her up really nicely - before replacing it with the mask of the dead.
"hold up there, dear," she drawled, "I jus' wanna talk to ye."
The man spun around, Ryan said his name was parasite, like the thing in her brain.
The man checked his gun, finding it empty. Good, that'd make this easier.
Mrs Splicer approached him, the steel pipe in her hand dangling loosely in a sign of defeat.
"I just want to steal your pretty face." in love or not, she wanted to rip it off and eat it.
His face was twisted in love.
In Rapture, mothers strangled babies because anger and love are the same thing, anger is husband, love mistress, fear is their beautiful bouncing baby.
Mrs Splicer possessed no baby.
She possessed love.
So when the cold pain slammed into the side of her face, she possessed love, and it made her fall.
Another Splicer leapt at the man, earning a wrench In its ugly mug, the object of Mrs Splicer's affection slamming the creature to the floor and smashing his face into a bloody pulp.
It was then that she realised the man was husband, and possessed baby.
She would never be the mistress.
He grabbed her by the leg, dragging her back and battering her body in a way so similar to her previous infatuation. She loved him more and more as she died, it hurt, she loved him, it hurt, she lusted after him, it hurt, he was gone, tugging the key to her apartment from her.
"Oh, he used me to get into my home, my money, my babies," said softly, attempting to heft herself up but slipping on the precious blood pooling everywhere, "shit, I'll never get to a medical station."
She could barely see, barely blur memories broken personality connect baby baby husband mistress bruise I love you I lox.
She collapsed back, eyes flickering closed.
And as she died, the ghost of her husband leant over her, watching.
Her face wasn't pretty enough for him in life. She loved him, she loved their baby, why the mistress?
In the over room the stranger was rooting through drawers, talking to himself, he found a golf club an proclaimed it'd do nothing good.
Hah, hahah, hahahahhahahah.
It went dark.
Non, rien de rien...
I apologize for any mistakes, this is just, a drabble thing.