Pitter patter.

His tiny shoes echoed in the hallway, searching for his missing parents. The boy was crying, sobbing even. He looked around hoping that he's find them inside the building. It was hard to see through the tears. He tried to wipe the free-falling tears from his eyes, he was getting nervous, anxious. He was fearing for his life.

He ran his feet on the carpeted floor, tattered from neglect, having witnessed many brawls amongst lesser men. The hallways were solemn and murky beyond recognition. The marble walls were cracked all over the surface. Posters were placed on the walls, advertisements echoing a long forgotten past.

Wally ignored the ruined scenery of the place. He had to get going. He needed to find his parents. Soon.

The five year old knew the dangers of being alone, unarmed. He had seen it happen to others.

Had seen the rotting corpses.

A quick turn to the left, he ended up in another dead end. For a moment the possibility of never reuniting with them came in mind. The thought brought even more tears from his eyes.

There was a creaking sound.

He froze. But soon shook himself from the stupor. Letting hard fought instincts overtake his senses.

Little Wally ducked behind a large vase for cover, he stilled his breath even though the tears wouldn't stop flowing. Another set of feet was heard in the distance, bigger this time. He hid behind the vase. The strong scent of blood assaulted his nose and another scent something else...

A step was taken near his hiding spot. There were murmurs from the other being. Wally put his hand to his mouth. Harshly biting into his fingers drawing blood. He shouldn't scream. He had to be quiet.

The boy breathed from his nose to avoid further noise. He tried to relax. His thoughts on the other hand...

A whimper nearly escaped his lips when the disfigured splicer turned his face. The non-human was dressed in a tattered suit, a mask on his, -its face. He glanced over the battered walls, the carpets even Wally's little hiding place. The five year old boy prayed for the splicer to leave him unnoticed.

But life was never easy.

"Hey there lil fella." A slurred voice called out to him.

"What'cha doin there in ya lonesome?"

Wally's fears intensified as the figure crept closer to him. Its skin was pale, sickly pale. The blood stains contrasted heavily on its skin. Its limbs, deformed lumps of flesh grown out of proportion, the face even more so. The splicer hobbled towards him.

It was then he noticed the knife in the other's hands. The disfigured face turned into a wicked smile.

Wally wanted to run.

He was backed against the wall...

Nowhere left to flee.

He edged backwards with his feet. The splicer's smirk grew even more vicious, Wally's knees shook even more. The boy let out a whimper when the knife was inches from his neck.

"Let's see how much Adam there is in that lil body of yours."

The knife was stabbed viciously on his flesh.

Wally woke up screaming, panting on his bed.

The twelve year old pulled up his knees to his chest. His breathing was laboured tears poured from his eyes, just like in the dream. Loud footsteps could be heard from outside his room.

A second later and the door was thrown open. His uncle went straight to his side.

Strong arms wrapped around his trembling form. The young child was now openly sobbing against his uncle's shirt. Uncle Barry continued to whisper reassurances to his nephew. Wally just cried and cried clutching the man's shirt tight, afraid that he too might disappear.

"Shhh... it's alright kiddo" whispered his uncle into his ear. "I'm right here."

The two stayed like that for ages.

Wally eventually calmed a bit, hicupping every now and then.

"Now mind telling me about that nightmare?"

The boy shook his head.

Barry asked again in a soft tone. "What happened in the dream?"

Wally murmured something incoherent. "Sorry kiddo didn't quite hear you."

The man had to strain his ears to hear his nephew.

"... wasn't a dream."

His uncle's eyes widened in realisation.

A memory.

Wally shifted under his uncle's hold wary from the man's sudden stillness. He was surprised when his uncle's arms tightened around him. The boy savoured the warmth of another human being. His hands found its way on the old faded scars on his shoulder. He shuddered.

His uncle's hands rubbed against his back in a circular motion. Wally found it strangely soothing. It wasn't long before another tender hand joined on the comforting gesture.

He didn't need to look. It must've been his aunt Iris.

The boy no longer screamed at being caught unaware. No longer feared the sudden touches of skin. He had learnt the meaning of caring gestures, the same kind his own parents used to indulge him.

Both gentle voices calmed him. His aunt and uncle stayed by his side the entire night.

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Well here goes my first post ever at this site. I've had this short draft for a long, long time. I wasn't sure what to do with it.

Actually I'm kinda stuck with this.

Ps. And to be frank I'm not overly wide on the expertise on both YJ and Bioshock. (I haven't even reached the second season before I stopped watching the series. got depressed when I heard that Wally died on and I have never played the game. I don't do well with horror and gore. And I have a terrible aim both in-game and real life)