I can't believe I underestimated that damned hunk of armor! If I was just a normal man, he would have killed me. Nevertheless, blood trickled from my mouth as I stumbled in the dark hallway, my hand searching the wall for some sign of another passage to find light. But, for what seemed like eternity, there was nothing. There was the faintest sound of music playing, which reminded me of Violeta and the first time that I knew that I was in love with her . . .

It was in the New Year of 1949, when Andrew had decided to unveil his new workers that would maintain Rapture. Because of my stupidity, I ended up with a few broken ribs and no one to fix them. So I went to Violeta's first show as a singer at the Footlight Theater to take my mind off the pain.

All of the lights, dim as they were to begin with, had suddenly shut off. It was meant to be a "power outage" - something that seemed rather absurd in Rapture, of all places- until a beam of blue-white light shone down on Violeta, who stepped out from behind the heavy curtain. I had immediately straightened myself, ignoring the throbbing pain in my side. She had worn a masterfully draped white dress adorned with small diamonds. The diamonds also shone upon her brow and a circlet of silver lie upon her brow. She stood silent and still on the stage, looking out upon the citizens of Rapture. And then she began to sing, low at first, and then beginning to gain power and strength.

"Woah," my breath was caught in my throat, not able to take my eyes off of her, Violeta's voice truly heavenly as she sang what sounded Icelandic lullaby. Of course, I didn't understand a single word she sang, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.

Violeta ended her aria with her eyes closed, head bowed, and a solemn expression on her face. She took a step backward and the light upon her sparkling form was switched out. Violeta remained standing with her hands folded at her thighs.

And just as I thought it was over, there was a second part to her act. Violeta reached behind her back and produced a tambourine. The white gown fell away from her, revealing another outfit beneath it, that one a vibrant fire-red color. She dropped the aforementioned white gown and danced, her voice rising again as she wailed an even more powerful part of the same song. My eyes relaxed and began to look glazed over, not being able to say a word as I was taken in with the performance.

A split second after she was finished, midnight was upon them. The New Year had arrived. I was almost violently thrown out of the trance as the clocks rang deeply. I blinked several times as he noticed that it was now 1950! I lifted up my hands and began to clap and cheer, both at the New Year and for Violeta. I groaned in pain from the few broken ribs, and slowly stood up. I pushed past the crowd through the celebrating crowd before I got to Violeta.

"Darlin'," I said, "You were wonderful! And you look gorgeous," I exclaimed, clutching my ribs gently.

"Much thank. You . . . pleased by my song?" asked Violeta.

I grinned happily despite the pain and nodded. "Very pleased. It was beautiful."

She then gazed down at my hand that splinting my ribcage.

"Mister Hadleigh? You... hurted?" she breathed, cocking her head this way and that, which made me smile softly.

"Yeah, I got a little too close to Omega..." I muttered before an expression of realization crossed my face, "Can you help?"

At this question, Violeta drew herself close and placed her smaller hand over my larger one, and leaned up to whisper in my ear. "Come with me." I was only given about two seconds before she slipped her fingers into mine before tugging me along towards her dressing room.

Once we reached her room, she practically forced him down onto her vanity stool, placing her hand over his abdomen again, making me hiss gently. "Take off shirt. Want see."

I raised an eyebrow to question her directness, but I of course shrugged it off as medical curiosity. I deftly unbuttoned my shirt and let it fall to the floor, wondering what she was about to do.

Resisting the urge to flinch when she felt the bones bunched up underneath my flesh, I watched as she frowned before she surprised me by pinning me against the edge of the counter with her hands directly over the bones. She then reached over my shoulder and drew a bottle of strong vodka from the shelf before opening and drinking it. I felt puzzled for a moment; wasn't I the one who was supposed to be drunk? But my question was answered when she immediately leaned in and felt her lips press against mine with a firm strength, forcing me to drink the liquid that was in her mouth.

I mean, I would have downed it anyway, but there was no way I was going to argue as I tasted her soft lips in combination with the burn of the vodka. Fortunately, my body is particularly susceptible to strong liquor, and so I felt the effects of the vodka immediately. "Woah . . . that was quick," I said, blinking slowly.

Apparently, that was all Violeta needed. Within a span of an instant, she was firmly against me, straddling my waist so that she could reset my ribcage. She bent herself a bit at the waist, her lips a centimeter from mine. "Sorry," I could barely register the word as she pushed down on the wound, eliciting a cacophony of snapping noises.

I felt the urge to scream from the intense pain that came from the wound, but I held my tongue and only gave pained grunts and muffled yells. My hands eagerly gripped the sides of the stool, the nails digging into the wood until she finished, at which point I finally let out an unbridled scream of pain that resounded throughout the theater, though it would only be counted as a yell of celebration for the New Year.

It was in that moment that I knew that I could depend on her, and she me . . . even if I failed so far, I wouldn't, in the end.

My thoughts were rudely interrupted when I heard shouts and screams from above. I had absentmindedly walked into a lobby, and I could see a hulking figure at the other end of the room. At first, I thought it was one of the Prototypes, but when the lights flickered back on, it was a Splicer. A very big, angry Splicer . . . like a brute. My eyes widened in shock, "What the hell have they been feeding you?" I had asked, but there was no answer.

Without barely anytime to react, the Brute charged at me with incredible agility, even more so than a Bouncer. I let out an yell of surprise, taking a step back, only to be tripped by a stray rock. I landed on my back with a heavy thud, and attempted to charge my powers to kill it before it could end me. But just as it got at least a foot away, I closed my eyes and hoped for the best.

And my prayers were answered. It seemed to get very cold in the room, and I opened my eyes to see the Brute encased in a thick layer of ice. The Brute's face held a look of utmost rage and I resisted the urge to reach out and touched it. But a voice to my side stopped me.

"Well well . . . you are definitely a sight for sore eyes, friend."

I recognized that voice. Turning my head to look over my right shoulder to see man with shaggy brown hair and deep blue eyes, and a serious expression on his face.

He was alive. Hal Freeman was alive.