I do not own Bioshock or any of its characters, no matter how cool they are.
Jack looked at Ryan's bloody corpse. He had killed him, with his own golf club, but it had not been his choice. He had no control over what he did, and now he knew.
"What are waiting for? Would you kindly put his key in that goddamn machine?" Atlas yelled over the radio. Jack felt the familiar sense of his legs trying to move without his will. He struggled to fight his own body, but his legs pulled away, walking towards the self destruct control, the genetic key in hand.
"Who the hell are you, really?" Jack asked the radio.
"This is hardly the time boyo!" Atlas called. "Now put the card in the machine!"
"You've been using me. I've never really had any control over myself. You've been pulling the strings and I'm tired of it!" Jack snapped, as he passed Ryan's desk. "I'm done believing you, Fontaine."
There was a silence over the radio. "Clever little pup." Fontaine's gruff voice echoed over the radio. "Yeah, your just a useful little dog, Fido. Too bad for you, I don' let dogs outlive their masters."
"Meaning?" Jack asked, as he passed the glass door, the massive machine looming in front of him.
"Meaning once that machine processes the key, I won't need a killing machine like you anymore." Fontaine chuckled. "Too bad kid, really is. Now would you kindly put that key in the machine and turn it?" He ordered.
Jack felt his hand move up, the key moving towards the slot to the machine. "Ya know Fontaine you were a clever little bastard," The key slipped into the slot. "But you should have been more specific with your orders." With a twist of the wrist, Jack turned the key sharply to the left. The golden plate shattered and split to pieces. Jack stepped back and smiled.
"What the hell did you just do!" Fontaine howled. "You- you broke the key! You fucking idiot! We can't stop the explosion now! All of Rapture is going down! What the hell is wrong with you?"
"I don't like to be used." Jack said calmly. Turning away he walked towards the desk his father had sat in. "You should have told me which direction to turn it. Too bad, boyo."
"You son of a bitch! You have any idea what you did? I swear, you . . . "Jack dropped the radio on the ground and stomped the device to a pile of mechanical junk.
"Damn he's annoying." He sighed. Jack saw a golf bag next to the desk and walked over to retrieve a putter. He slowly walked to the green felt and lined up a shot on the gold ball. His thought wandered to Tenenbaum. Her and the little girls. Granted he had killed most of them, but that didn't change the pang of guilt he felt. He looked up and saw Ryan's corpse outside the glass. "I'm not a slave anymore, dad. I made my choice. I'm doing the world a favor burying this place." Jack knocked the white ball across the felt, rolling into the hole as the room filled with fire, and flooded with water.