Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock.

Bioshock

By Guardian Shotgun

Prologue: Life

(^(00)^)

"I am Andrew Ryan, and I'm here to ask you a question. Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow?

'No!' says the man in Washington, 'It belongs to the poor.'

'No!' says the man in the Vatican, 'It belongs to God.'

'No!' says the man in Moscow, 'It belongs to everyone.'

"I rejected those answers; instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose...Rapture, a city where the artist would not fear the censor, where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality, where the great would not be constrained by the small! And with the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city, as well."

The words still rang in his head. Those were the words that every citizen of Rapture had heard before their arrival.

They were a lie.

Rapture was a madman's dream, and that man's name was Andrew Ryan. Ryan had the city built at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean for the great and powerful. The promise of absolute freedom and endless possibilities drew the attention of wealthy socialites, scientists, and the like from around the world, but it was too good to be true.

He could not remember why he came to Rapture. He could not even remember his name anymore. His name was forgotten long ago, lost to the horrors of this underwater world. This was the world that would some day be his tomb… or was it already? The city lying at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean was falling apart. The body was decaying, the soul was failing, and its blood… was scarce.

Adam.

Adam was all he wanted.

Adam was all he needed.

Adam was the blood that once flowed through Rapture's veins, but civil war and monstrous abominations had all but drained it dry. Adam had given the people power, but at a heavy price. The substance would fiddle with a person's genetic make up and change it into something powerful. Rapture's many scientists played with the substance until they created Plasmids; substances that could give individuals outstanding powers. Civilians would walk Rapture's streets, lighting fires in their hands as if it was an everyday occurrence. Work was simpler and the people relished their new powers.

Messing with one's genetic makeup, though, tended to have horrible side effects. In time the people of Rapture grew addicted to Adam and the plasmidsthat it created. Violence and anger increased as Adam slowly deteriorated the minds of all those who used it. Their bodies began to fall apart, and Adam was the only thing that could save them. It was a vicious cycle that would never seem to end.

Adam had given birth to Rapture, and Adam had destroyed it.

All the while, Ryan remained at the top of the pile, crushing whatever opposition arose… for a while.

Frank Fontaine had helped the rise of Adam and Plasmids throughout Rapture. After he had climbed the social pile long enough, Ryan had him disposed of. The tyrant took over Fontaine Industries and the Adam with it.

Civil war broke out, and while Ryan bribed his supporters with Adam, a lone worker Atlas rose up to speak for the lower class. Morals and ethics were thrown aside as more and more civilians were getting "spliced up" beyond repair. Horrid creatures were created to control, collect, and protect the Adam. Little girls were turned into abominations and protected by even more horrid monsters. The "Little Sisters" as they were called, were the closest thing to children now… young ones could not survive in this hell. The sisters gathered up Adam and… God, he did not know what they did with it, and he did not care.

All he knew was that they had it, and he needed it. He had to be quick too, because a Big Daddy is never far behind the Little Sisters.

And that was why he was standing over a little girl in a blue smock with a monkey wrench in his hand, intent to beat the child to death for his Adam….

…But then she screamed.

Her high pitched wail echoed through the halls as he brought the wrench down on her shoulder, missing his original target: her head.

An inhuman roar filled the air as thunderous footsteps echoed from behind him. From a balcony above his position a Big Daddy peered down at him, looking quite menacing. The creature was humanoid in build, with a large slough in its posture and a wide build. The entirety of its body was covered with a strange diving suit; the spherical helmet was covered in strange lights, now they were glowing red, for anger. The most fearsome part of the creature though had to be its right hand, or lack there of. Replacing the appendage was a massive drill that the Big Daddy could activate at will. He was now glad he remembered to retrieve his shotgun that morning, but with low ammo he needed to try not to use it.

The monster let loose a scream that could only be described as whale-like, shaking the very floor beneath him as it leapt down on the man. He jumped to the side to avoid the Big Daddy's assault, but the brute was back on him in a flash. The monster reared its normal hand back and struck him in the face. The blow dazed him for a moment, giving the Big Daddy enough time to strike again and send him to the ground. As his senses returned, the Bid Daddy lifted its drill hand and brought it down towards him.

He rolled to the right as the drill impacted with the ground. The monsters tried to pull its appendage from the ground, but it was lodged too deeply. He seized this opportunity and struck the Big Daddy on the arm with his wrench. The brute showed no signs of pain as it finally pulled its weapon from the floor. The man jumped away and attacked its back, hitting a large metal drum on its back. The sound of metal hitting hollow metal rang through the corridors as the attack bounced off the Big Daddy, doing damage to the monster. It brought its normal hand to his face again, backhanding him to the floor yet again. He felt the wrench leave his hand and heard it clatter across the floor, far away. The stock of the shotgun holstered on his back collided with his skull, dazing the man's vision yet again.

He could vaguely see the Little Sister's scared face through his blurred vision before the Big Daddy hauled him away by his leg. It tossed him away from her and raised its drill, intent on finishing the man off. Thinking fast, he shoved his foot into what would be the creature's stomach, and caught the drill in his left hand the appendage roared to life and began to spin. He screamed as it tore into his hand with little resistance, the spiral tip of the drill poking out of the other side of his hand. With little other choice, the man pulled his shotgun from behind him and held the barrel at the Big Daddy's face and pulled the trigger. The effect was immediate as the monster was knocked back by the shot and stumbled dangerously close to a nearby ledge.

While the Bid Daddy was distracted, the man retrieved a hypodermic needle from inside his coat pocket. He looked to his destroyed hand reluctantly and bit his lip as he stabbed the needle into his arm and squeezed. As the sickly liquid was forced into his limb, his arm began to change. The skin around the point of injection turned brown and rough, spreading quickly. Small bubbles formed and popped, releasing large hornets that grew rapidly in his arm. This was his least favorite plasmid; Swarm. It was made recently to help confuse and even kill enemies, but it hurt like nothing else. Nevertheless his arm was soon covered with small bubbles and deformed skin, and he prepared to fight.

As the insects crawled about on his arm he readied his shotgun. With a simple thought he willed the bugs to attack as he thrust his arm toward the Big Daddy. The wasps flew from his arm in a cloud of dozens and surrounded the creature. As it flailed its arms around, trying to get rid of the pests, the man charged forward. He brought the gun, yet again, to the Big Daddy's face and fired. The buckshot tore through the helmet and sent the creature flying, pushing it over the edge and falling to the floor three stories below. The man cautiously peered over the edge to find the Big Daddy reduced to a crumpled heap. The lights that once adorned its helmet were dark, signifying its death. He dropped the shotgun to his side and basked in the glory of his kill.

Relief and contentment flooded his senses… before the pain erupted from his abdomen. The horrible sounds of machinery turning and flesh being torn apart rang in his ears. He slowly looked down at himself to find a drill protruding from his stomach. The machine turned in the opposite direction and he was viciously pulled off. He slowly turned around to find another Big Daddy behind him, no doubt drawn by the scuffle.

It reared its drill back and slammed it into his head, obliterating his face and killing him instantly.

(^(00)^)

She was crouched in the corner, scared by the fight. The bad man had attacked her and Daddy tried to save her, but the man killed her Daddy.

But another of her Daddies had come to protect her. He would keep the bad men away. Her Daddy reached out his hand to help her up, and she took it. When he lifted her back on her feet, she ran to him; crying into his tummy for her old Daddy.

(^(00)^)

Done

To those who find this story: I am on a mission.

I will novelize Bioshock.

I have searched for fan fiction on Bioshock, but I am sad to report that the pickings are thin.

I have started another story, but three weeks of writers block has taken a toll on my confidence. I'm hoping that this story will help.

To anyone who has read L4D HG, it is currently up for grabs. I can tell you the direction the story is supposed to go if you want to continue it, but until I can find the inspiration it's on hiatus.

Lastly, thank you for reading. The next chapter is under way right now.

(^(00)^) Guardian Shotgun, Johnathan Baker.