Willkommen zur Begeisterung

a Joint Venture by

KrimzonFlygon and BlackNhite

(Author's Note: My first work based on the Elfen Lied series, and the Bioshock video game, as well as my first collaborative project with a fellow author. As an ardent fan of the anime, and a longtime lover of the Bioshock series, my only hope is that this story does them justice. And for those who wish to know, the title means "Welcome to Rapture".)

Disclaimer: I do not own Elfen Lied or Bioshock.

Chapter 1

Beyond the Sea

For as long as I can remember, I have always thought the ocean beautiful. For this reason, I'd always looked forward to our visits to Kamakura, my chance to lay witness to the big blue, its never-ending expanse reaching out as if to conquer the horizon – I guess you could say it really brings out the poet in me.

This particular moment though was truly special and not simply because the setting sun captured the diamond twinkle of the waves just right. In this instant, no longer was I bound to my station, trapped upon some narrow strip of sand. I was right in the action, resting pleasantly upon this titanic vessel whose motions bounced and rolled with every ebb and flow. Surrounded by crashing waves and the heavy scent of open ocean, I felt embraced within my element.

Really, it was as though someone were holding me from behind… and attempting to fuse us together.

"Kouta!"

She had a truly happy tone, almost overbearingly so, the girl with her arms wrapped around me. I'd have smiled at that if said shrieks of joy were a bit further from my ear. As per usual, Nyu lacked any concept of personal space though how someone with such generous assets could press her front so hard and still be smiling I'll never know. My hands were working to free my torso but she'd already managed to lace her fingers.

"Nyu! Bring him over!"

Oh geez, they're all conspiring against me! I'm hauled clear off the ground before I can react and with three long, giggle-tastic steps, I'm underwater. I snapped my eyes shut just as they started to burn. Ever since I was a kid I've been sensitive to chlorine. In my mind's eye I could see Yuka, having a nice little laugh at my expense. I wondered whether or not I should return the favor, and try to dunk her for a change…

I swam toward the surface, finally deciding that discretion was the better part of valor. Yuka hits harder than any man and most motor vehicles, a fact of life that I somehow hadn't caught on to the first thousand bruises. Not this time, though: let it be known that Kouta Suzuki learns from his mistakes!

I looked skyward as my head broke the water, my face colliding with…something. Soft, pliable, globular, a set, each covered by a gaily colored patch of cloth; I was getting a literal feel of what these were. One thing I could tell straight away, if Yuka's shriek was anything to go by, it was something that was about to earn me my latest black eye. My cousin hauled me out of the water, one hand clenched around the collar of my tank top and the other cupping…well… guess that confirms my suspicions. Granted, leaning out over the side of the pool was perhaps not the smartest choice Yuka had ever made.

Not that I had the guts to tell her that now. Yuka was glancing over to the lifeguard, apparently trying to decide if caving my face in would be considered 'horseplay'. At length, she decided that I wasn't worth the risk and released me, scowling. I willed my heart to start again, barely daring to believe my luck.

"Hey, Kouta!"

I glanced over to the sound of Mayu's voice, inadvertently letting out an impressed chuckle. It was still difficult to fathom how someone like Mayu, with such a reserved personality, would have an affinity for the high dive of all things. Granted, she didn't look exactly detached up there: her hands were balled into tight fists, and her face was beet red, no doubt because of the crowd of children that chanted her name from below.

And then Nana stepped in, dressed in a dark-blue one-piece, identical to her brunette sibling/rival, and issuing a call of challenge… from the low dive. The little horned girl seemed to have a thing with heights. And popularity it seemed, being ignored by such "traitorous" (her words) fans easily robbed her of focus… and footing; she toppled into the pool with the grace of a wooden puppet, impacting against the water in a bizarre sideways belly flop.

I bit back laughter; Yuka threw her head back and howled outright.

"Go for it Mayu! Show 'em the Jack-knife!"

As I watched Mayu step off the diving board, falling into the pool with slightly more poise than Nana, it struck me just how much...how much we looked like a family right now. A mawkish statement, perhaps, but not everyone's had the lives that we've had. A regular dysfunction junction, that's us…

I mean, where to even begin? I didn't know the exact details, but anyone who'd have parents like Mayu's, all too willing to give her up to a couple college kids… And then for the girl to be so eager, ready to turn away her own flesh and blood for complete strangers? That's crazy. I'm crazy and I know that's crazy.

Nana, the sweet little horned girl that we had adopted… the one currently climbing back onto the low dive to give it another go. We're still in the dark about her and that's probably just as well. Some things… some things are better left behind, I know. Don't ask me how… I just do.

That doesn't mean I don't think about it though, that darkness, drifting in the corners of my mind. It's far too relevant to me – all of us… though I can't say I understand it.

'I was born to put an end to human life…'

The fact that someone could say something like that, and to say it with such complete and utter conviction was unnerving enough. But then the person who had said it...

I stole a glance over to Nyu, who had apparently grown bored with watching Mayu and Nana's underwater show and was waiting restlessly for the poolside bartender to finish concocting her third Shirley Temple. Less than three months ago, the stone steps… what was that then? She'd seemed so resigned, defeated, not at all like the cheerful, innocent Nyu. So who was that I'd been talking to that night? Some stranger in a friend's body… or a face I'd long forgotten? Someone… who had taken everything from me…

Who are you, 'Nyu'? What are you? What terrible place did you come from? What other secrets are you hiding from me?

I don't know when I ended up underwater, too deep in thought to really notice. Then I realized I couldn't breathe and it all sort of clicked together. I rose to the surface, spluttering. Yuka was doubled over, clutching her stomach as laughter wracked her body. Man, how long's it been since I'd seen a genuinely happy look on her face? I guess with all the insanity that we'd been dealing with since our return to Kamakura, one horrible thing after another, it'd been a while since we had something to really be happy about…

Maybe this was the first sign of things finally turning themselves around…

A sudden, bloodcurdling scream tore me from my musings. Yuka whirled around, stumbling backwards and nearly falling in herself. I struggled out of the pool, following Yuka's gaze to the origin of the sound.

I almost fainted. Nyu, tired of waiting for her drink to be finished, had tackled a passing woman. A true beauty at that: young, brunette, skin like porcelain, legs that went on forever, the body of a goddess. Perfect. The horned girl had dragged the woman to the pool deck and, as I watched in horror, proceeded to give the woman's bosom a thorough investigation.

Now, I will say Nyu's antics never fail to amuse. That didn't mean they never got out of hand, she'd already managed to acquaint herself with the security crew less than twenty minutes after we arrived. Now granted, we probably could have explained the idea of swimming to her better, and made sure to differentiate it from the idea of bathing...

Yuka had seen enough; this was a show she'd been privy to more than enough times, often with her on the receiving end. Charging forward through the crowd, she grabbed Nyu in a headlock and pulled her off of the mortified tourist. Instantly the woman was on her feet, looking as if she were on the verge of a stroke, screaming herself hoarse at her "attacker". I flinched, watching my cousin drag Nyu away from the scene. The look on her face would have been smug if it had been on anyone else; as it was, Nyu just looked mostly confused… and a little pleased with herself. I was pretty close to laughing.

I should have realized: some things never change.

*Bando*

Man's gotta eat. That's what I keep telling myself anyways, keep those blinders on. It'll be a cold day in Hell before I admit I've fallen, you can be sure of that.

What was I doing here? I suppose convenience was the first reason; they needed security, I needed money, simple math really. The fact that you're found floating out in the open sea, hanging for dear life to an overturned lifeboat does add an additional layer of endearment I suppose. Facilitates interviews too, how much more do you need to prove you're a hard-ass than surviving three days adrift?

My boss? Nice guy, not the type you can actually respect though. The more you get to know him, the more you realize what an idiot he is. No, that's not being entirely fair, more like he lacks the ability to quantify things. Take this cruise of his, some sort of publicity stunt where he invites a couple hundred people at random to an all-expenses paid vacation. It's supposed to advertise his new 'dream getaway' travel plan.

The problem? Too much, too fast, poor guy barely even knows how many people he's employed. He's on the boat now more as a personal learning experience than to keep up appearances, at least the man has sense enough to try to know his own business. Doubt it'll last though, jumping from fishing routes to hosting cruises is too big for a guy like that to handle.

No difference to me, Shinbo, the "nice guy", has a backup position for me with one of his old fishing crews, the business still up and going strong. I'd probably get on better there really, more comfortable around brash sailors and panicked shouting than snobby tourists. I'm only on this job because Shinbo asked, something about this whole trip is making him really nervous.

I asked him about that no more than an hour ago. He showed up to clear his head after some kind of… cat fight or whatever on the pool deck. The boys had been chatting it up with that over in our quarters; I'd elected to stay down in the Locker and away from whatever fraternity relapse that lot was experiencing. I'd been disassembling my weapon when those iconic blue suede shoes of his strode into view.

"Something up?"

"No," his voice cracked only once, but it was more than enough, "just taking a breather."

I fixed him with solid eyes. "What's the problem?"

"You don't know," he nodded towards the raucous down the hall, a small grin showing.

"Don't fuck with me, you've been edgy ever since you asked me on. Spill."

He fixed me with a penetrating stare; I could almost hear the cogs in his head grinding. One more push should do it…"You put me on security detail, boss. The only way I'll be able to do my job is if you tell me what's got you scared shitless."

Was that the right thing to say?

The boss averted his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out through his mouth with a mighty 'whoosh'.

"Alright, listen." Shinbo's voice shook ever so slightly. "I've been a seafaring man for twenty years. In that amount of time out here, you see a fair number of weirdoes, and you learn to deal with them. But this…this ship's crew…"

"You don't trust them?"

A curt nod. "There's something off about a couple of them. I look at some of them and…I don't know. There's just something about them that creeps me out…"

The defense rests. For all I know he's gone and hired a bunch of escaped serial killers. Brilliant. At least if things go south, I'll actually have something to do on this damned tub…

My face must have betrayed my eagerness: Shinbo was shaking his head, his hands raised in front of him. "L-look, I'm probably just paranoid. There's no real evidence that we have to worry about anyone on board, and doing anything hasty could cause more trouble than it's worth."

"So I should just keep an eye out, is that it?"

The boss nodded again. "Precisely; just report any suspicious activities to me."

"Sure…" I got to my feet, slipping my cleaned weapon into a holster in my vest. "Gotta go on my rounds, anyway…"

"I'll leave you to it, then."

Someone like me sees quite a variety of work in his lifetime. There are both good and bad aspects to this fact: one can end up fighting terrorists or a vicious, bulletproof monster, or they can end up on a cruise ship, wandering the halls like a zombie looking for absolutely nothing.

My definition of boredom has been officially redefined.

I mean, what was I even looking for? Shinbo hadn't exactly been specific with his suspicions. Likely, I was just about the only guy he didn't doubt. Course, I was the only guy he actually knew so…

The halls were jammed with tourists, all too eager with being here and there to worry about the disgruntled security guard trying to do his job. I'd probably do better snatching a lifeboat and trying to sail through them; this lot tossed and turned harder than any ocean waves.

This was gonna piss me off… but really, what's new about that?

Ready to just get it over with, I rammed my way through the crowd. My vision was a random mosh of surprised and annoyed glares.

Suddenly, something different rammed into me, brushing me aside and nearly sending me into a wall. A figure in shades, wearing the gold-trimmed white of the wheelhouse crew, elbowed their way past, going in the opposite direction that I was. I couldn't make out many details, fucker dove into the crowd too fast. Whoever he was, he was oddly determined to get to where ever.

I've often heard the phrase 'every dog knows his own', and in that split second, Shinbo's anxiety looked well founded. That posture, brashness, focus, they were all too familiar to me; I see 'em every time I look in the mirror. This was a mercenary, a mad-dog killer who trades blood for money. There was no mistaking it… so someone thought they could pull the wool over my eyes?

I'll have to keep an eye on this one.

*'Sunny'*

I've often heard people say that there's no such thing as perfection. Whenever this happens, it's all I can do not to shoot the smug loser in the face. What the hell do they know about perfection? After all, it's not a part of their job that is demanded of them 24/7, with their life alongside their paycheck as one of the benefits. Those lemmings don't know about perfection; they don't have my job, where their life and livelihood could collapse if a single piece falls out of place, their very existence hinging on what could be a single stroke of luck.

The guy I crashed into on my way to the crew's quarters, for example. Judging by the look he had given me, it was only by grace of some higher force that my cover wasn't completely blown then and there. Under any logical circumstances, such a slipup would've spelled the end of someone like me.

But I had gotten lucky, pure and simple, and I was safe in the crew's quarters now, resting my back against the wall and surveying my teammates. I was glad to see that most of them were taking this seriously: Douglas was hard at work cleaning the weapons, and Marcus was poring over a mighty map of the ship, marking off entrances, camera locations, anything that might come in handy during the operation. This kind of hard work was offset by some of our more…'laid back' members, though. Brent and Auburn, for example, who were hard at work bragging about the head count they were about to rack up, and all the expensive garbage they would buy with the spoils. Losers…it takes a special kind of idiot to see something like a hijacking mission as a simple, entertaining diversion.

Of course, compared to my purpose on this ship, it may as well be.

The natter of my teammates faded into the background as I recalled the phone call I had received not even three weeks ago. I remembered the confusion I felt as I listened to my potential objectives, and the absolute shock I felt as I heard EXACTLY how much I was being offered for it. The man on the other end of the phone, however, made it quite clear: complete the objectives assigned to me, and I'd be set for life.

I almost called bullshit at this point. This guy expected me to believe that some teenage brat was worth more cash than most governments saw in their lifetime? The man on the phone remained unshaken throughout this exchange, answering my questions with an almost inhuman measure of composition. My mark, according to him, was no ordinary child, and if things went downhill it was highly likely I'd be leaving the ship in a body bag.

Then, almost as if he could tell what I was about to say, he proceeded to explain to me exactly what my target was capable of. And suddenly, I realized why he was offering me so much money.

I listened to the stories, a cold mixture of horror and disbelief coursing through my veins, prying my upper and lower jaws apart. There was no way it could be true. Something like my target…something like that could never exist.

"Y…you can't be serious." I had hissed into the mouthpiece. "This is some kind of sick joke. There's no way that…"

"Are you really willing to risk it?" The man had interrupted. I could almost see the smirk on the bastard's face.

I had no answer. I remember floundering, scrounging desperately for a rebuttal. On one hand, the man was completely insane. He had to be, basically having me hunt down a super-villain I'd see in some crummy horror movie. On the other hand, I hadn't had a contract in ages: I wasn't actually swimming in cash as of the moment, and a mercenary doesn't make money asking questions.

Long story short, I caved, and now here I was, on a boat in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, feeling like a complete and total idiot. Still, in the remote chance that there actually WAS some sort of vicious, bloodthirsty monster on board, I could safely say that this would be the most fulfilling mission I'd ever done.

Yeah…just keep telling yourself that, Sunny…just keep telling yourself that…

I wasn't sure exactly what happened next: something struck the side of my head, catching me completely off guard and causing me to slide off of the wall. I took two teetering steps forward trying to regain my balance, my hand shooting up just in time to keep my sunglasses from slipping off my face. Brent's leering face came into my view a second later, the rancid stench of tobacco striking my nostrils with the force of a physical blow.

"Ya having a good dream there, Toots?" He chortled. "C'mon, lady, get yer head in the game!"

Marcus, our gaunt, perpetually-scowling leader, was starting the briefing, droning dully over us as he outlined the entrance routes each of us would take, the patrol patterns of guards that may prove troublesome, and…

"Sunny and Connors, you two are on hostage duty." Marcus folded up the map. He looked critically at each of us, his eyes panning across the room. "Alright, that should just about do it…operation starts at 11:45 tonight. Get some rest."