Warning: Spooky Big Sister autopsy stuff. You've been warned.

"The mind of the subject will desperately struggle to create memories where none exist..." -R. Lutece

Part Three - The Suit


"Come on, Daddy!" The Little Sister bounded merrily down the mildewy corridor. In tow her guardian trudged along, occasionally dragging the behemoth drill against the floor and would let out a wallowing moan. She hopped, skipped, and jumped along the dirty metal floor; conveniently over the corpses of Splicers that were previously slain. They all had varying degrees of wounds, ranging from a gunshot to the chest or their innards drilled out by a Gatherer's protector.

"Look, Daddy, an angel," the girl crouched down to look at the dead Splicer's face. The girl, blinded by the mental rewiring done on her, saw the man in a peaceful slumber, his eyes fluttered shut, and his lips upturned in a satisfied smile. The faint illumination of angel wings and a halo were traced along the floor. She began to do what was instructed of her: extract ADAM from the angels.

Her protector valiantly fought off oncoming Splicers while the girl was blissfully unaware, poking the needle in and out on several places of the man's body to find the sweet spot for the viscous ambrosia.


"Alright, thanks, Judy. I appreciate it...keep looking for her info. I'll report to you what I find when I'm finished. Right- bye now." A quick sweep of my vision around me to see anyone who may be listening before I ended the call. A sigh left my lips as the door was opened for me, I gave a quick smile, and a 'thank you' to the kind person who offered the good deed.

"Morning, Miss Williams, what's on the schedule today?"

"Mornin' Gus," I idly responded to the janitor as I poured myself a cup of coffee from the machine that sat on a wooden table, seemingly presenting itself as a complimentary beverage for anyone who came in. "Nothing much, the usual. How're the kids?"

It's great that the coffee was free because I'll be making frequent trips to that coffee machine today.

"Oh, they're good, they're good," Gus nodded and dipped the mop back into the brown water in the old yellow water bucket. I swear, they never really even change that water, just reuse it. I've never, in my life, seen clean water in that dirty plastic bucket on wheels, which usually indicated that the brief interaction between us was finished.

"See ya' later, don't go slipping on that water now!" I offered a wave over my shoulder and took a drink of the steaming liquid, uncaring if it seared my mouth and throat. Sometimes you needed an excellent burn to your mouth to wake you up in the morning...but the coffee was stale. A fruitless effort indeed, now I was just burned in the mouth with a crappy taste of overcooked coffee beans.

"I'll try not to," a laugh was heard from the janitor as he continued to clean the floor. "Stay safe."

"Will do."

The journey to my office space has commenced, welcome to my life.

I dropped my belongings on the floor beside me and sat down at my desk, I didn't even bother to hang up my coat on the hook at the entrance of the cramped space. With a sigh, I dropped the styrofoam cup in the trash and rested my head on the desk for a few moments.

Another long day, huh? Great.

I finally lift my head after a few long moments of contemplative silence ringing in my ears and notice a sticky note tacked to the linen wall of my cubicle, among the pictures of Rose Mary and Dianne's grandchildren.

'WEST WING. NOON. -KASIE K.'

"Well, I'll be damned," I uttered and plucked the tacked note off of the wall, observing it closely. "She did listen."

This was going to be good. I felt a flutter of excitement flare in my diaphragm as I stared at my blank monitor screen thoughtfully. Was I really going to see what Miss Tenenbaum described to us?

If only Rose Mary were still alive, damn it! She would have loved to finally see a development in the story, only to be led on by those far and few news articles that reported on the children going missing, and the occasional conspiracy theorist news clipping saying that a people-eating sea monster lurked in the Atlantic Ocean...if only the document archive 'There's Something in the Water' was released to the public. We all knew what was really going on, not exclusively, but that it had to do with some nefarious person in Rapture.

Anything that involved the Atlantic Ocean was intriguing to any of us, really. Judy became a marine biologist, Dianne works at an aquarium, and Anne is a hydrologist, and I'm with the Navy Criminal Investigation Services- fitting for some little girls who are from the underwater, I'd say.

Now we wait, attempting to pass the time by completing minuscule tasks tacked onto my job at the last minute. One report, then proofreading the next.

Boy, time really does slow down when you do things in an attempt to occupy yourself.

Eleven-forty. Eleven forty-five. Eleven fifty.

Eleven fifty-five.

I collect some paperwork to slide into my messenger bag for later to work on, then get up and collect my coat.


"Took you long enough," Kasie uttered to me as we both exited through the glass side doors. "I told them where you're gonna be, don't worry."

For someone who is almost too young to be my daughter, she really nails it on the head with her loyalty. She served under us as an intern, but I secretly showed her the ropes of her aspiring job: an investigator.

"Well, thank you, darling," I responded with a hint of scorn in a mock Trans-Atlantic timbre.

"Yeah yeah, sounds like you drank from the coffee pot this morning," the young woman sniggered and twirled her keyring between her fingers.

I scoffed, "I still have that taste in my mouth. Who the hell made that coffee this morning?"

"Gus did, the poor guy turned the heat on the burner too high."

"Oh," I suddenly rescinded my statement mentally and began to feel bad. Poor guy, indeed. "I'd say we should just, uh, maybe invest in a machine that takes those little coffee pods."

"Those are so wasteful though," Kasie countered. "Don't you want to save the turtles?"

"Don't pull that millennial crap on me," I rolled my eyes and elbowed her arm.

A head shake and an 'I Told You So' shrug, "I am a millennial, after all, it comes naturally."

"Alright, you win," I placed a hand on the door handle of the passenger side and awaited the muted click and the lock tab shooting up from the mechanism. Opening the door, I tossed my bag on the floor, hoisting myself up into the seat with a push from my foot on the drop step.

Trucks never fancied me, though I did like riding in metal fortresses that would keep me alive in a T-Bone. I have a large SUV myself, but Dianne drives one of those little mosquito hatchbacks. Who could even drive those, knowing you might die when some stupid teenager decides to pick up their phone while driving?

Sorry. I'm getting off track.

"You owe me lunch," Kasie giggled and turned over the ignition.

"Keep talking like that, and you'll be washing dishes to pay for your meal."

"Touché."

...

"Alright, let's get this party started." I snapped on a pair of disposable gloves on and pulled a mask over my nose and mouth. Scenarios began to run through my mind, and questions as well. How did this Big Sister end up washing up? Surely it could have not been floating around for 50 years, wouldn't someone have found it already?

So many questions, such little answers.

"I hope you can still stomach gross things," Kasie bantered and snapped the mask over her nose.

"I've been in the force since before you were born, trust me, I think I'm fine."

"Good afternoon, ladies, I hope your day's been well," said the morgue worker as he entered the room.

"Well, hopefully, it'll remain good after we figure out what the hell washed up on the Florida shores," Kasie remarked and asked the mortician a few questions. This went on for several minutes, and he seamlessly responded with answers.

"Alright, c'mon, open 'er up!" My impatience showed through finally and us three gathered at the cold locker where the remains were held.

The worker pulled out the table from the drawer.

My heart dropped when I saw what was laying on the table. A fully intact body, with a festering gunshot wound in the chest.

Thinking of this, my brows furrowed at the scar-marred, frail body. "I thought this was supposed to be the bones of someone, not an intact body."

"Turns out the poor girl was so skinny that we thought that it was just bones left in the suit."

Kasie jotted down notes on a notepad of her observations, I searched the marred face of the Big Sister. "What state did you find her in?"

"She had been long dead since we discovered her. We're about to perform an autopsy on her if you'd like to watch."

I shook my head, I definitely did not want to see what was inside that thing...boy, that man is in for a surprise when he discovers what the hell is in her. "Where did you put the things she was wearing when you found her?"

"Her equipment was too much to put in a locker, we hung it up in the janitor's closet."

So much for the professionalism aspect, huh?

"Alright," I continued and made no effort to keep my eyes on the body, "Kasie can stay here and observe it, I'm gonna go and take a looksie at the suit."

"Aww, why do I have to be stuck with the body?"

"Because I'm old," A sly grin was felt crawling across my face, "You're nimble. The wiser, the warier."

...

The worker directed me down the corridor to the closet that hung the suit; noting the dinginess of their operations. It was something out of a horror movie, maybe, but anything can be taken at this point in time. You'd expect it to be prim and proper, really, but it could be farther from the truth.

All had to be tolerated when having this job, right?

My hand connected with the cold brass doorknob and slowly turned it, while pushing the door open. I felt something crack under my foot when I stepped into the closet, and a squelching sound was heard. I look down in anticipation, and a creature that probably crawled from the God-forsaken suit was squished across the floor.

A crab with barnacles pocked from the protective shell, it looked like.

Well, maybe, not anymore...now crab meat and shards of shells and crushed barnacles stuck to the bottom of my shoe. I felt myself grimace at the sight of the creature's fate, before scraping it off on the frame of the door and uttering in disgust.

Eventually, I had gotten the matter from my shoe, and my eyes lifted to the diver's suit, hooked to a pair of chains that hung from makeshift hooks drilled into the wall. The helmet was propped on a chair, the lifeless gaze of the single eye stung my soul like a wasp. The mangled, color-drained bows were securely fastened to the squares where the metal rods crossed over to form a sort of half-dome cage. The air tank's handle was rusted beyond the ability to be turned; long drained of any air that may have been feeding into the helmet through the tubes.

The weapon. That damned weapon, along with the other glove, was placed on a shelf at the room's left side. The needle looked to have been filed down to be blunted to prevent injury.

One thing seemed to strike me quite profoundly, however, was the full jar of ADAM that was screwed in and fed into the glove's device.

I felt a feeling deep in my gut that I haven't felt in years. I felt a sense of terrifying dread and fear, yet it seemed intermingled with vague traces of nostalgia, much to my bemusement. This feeling was stirring, churning in the pit of my stomach, making me feel a little bit queasy.

To be in front of this once living, vicious creature's very husk, was very surreal; Tenenbaum was right, it is a fear-inducing display.

Pulling the gloves tighter on to my hands, I began to work and observe, and then I write down notes of my observations. Dull process, really. From grisly murders to scouring a robbed house, the same procedure was involved in everything.

Yet, this time, note-taking for this was particularly tricky.

I didn't know where to start.

I didn't know where to begin with this mess.

The personal connection I had with this...thing was one thing that held me back from saying too much.

From going against what I was required to do.

After the sparse close-ups of details that required a hand to move something from obstructing that said detail, my hands were stripped of the gloves, and I fished out a pen and a pad of paper to jot down key points.

All while carefully crafting the details, nevertheless.

I dropped my things at the foot of the couch and collapsed into the soft cushions, letting out a long groan. The throbbing of my temples only seemed amplified in this moment of silence, my thoughts weighing down heavy on me. This was a big thing to deal with, alright.

Nothing that a small glass (or three) of Jack wouldn't cure, right?

It's the weekend, hallelujah. I'll celebrate however the hell I want, damn straight.

Lifting my head, after my temporary strength recovery, I got up from the couch and placed the things on the kitchen table that was illuminated by a single hanging light. The manilla folder stuck out of my purse, and as I plopped a few ice cubes in the glass a quarter full of alcohol, it hooked my attention once more.

Slowly pulling it from my bag, I sit down at the table and open it, leafing through the photographs that were printed out for my evaluation.

A small smile appeared on my face as I knew the real reason why Kasie gave these photos to me first, which was to assure they were up to quality before providing the images to the other investigators working on this case.

Who knew, even she could be insecure about the performance of her job. I get it, she's basically an intern at their disposal, and she wants to impress them.

A feeling of warmth blossomed across my chest as she thought of me as a close friend or someone she could consult.

She may even see me as a motherly figure, better yet.

I leaf the photos across the cracked tabletop and take a sip of whiskey.

The body seemed even more grisly on a photo, unquestionably.

Numerous shots were close up to the woman's gnarled face. Several scars dragged across her features that formed puckered lines in her sullen skin. A picture of the mouth, gross, but what caught my attention was the close up of the woman's eyes.

Something that struck a sensitive cord indefinitely. It wasn't like we weren't aware of what we looked like, we all have clear memories of our past...including seeing our reflections.

This woman's dull, jaundiced-looking eyes were framed by sunken-in sockets, which was surrounded with a discolored, greenish skin that contrasted with her gray complexion.

The twisted visage of the woman was framed with brunette hair matted to her head with a faded, torn bow that kept her locks on the nape of her neck.

Not a lot is worth saying about the body, other than her incredibly lithe and decomposing muscular frame.

Those questions resurfaced in my head, I shook my head in disbelief at the state of her body. It seemed to have little trauma on the rest of her person other than the face and a festering gunshot wound to the heart. The skin was stained with blood around the area, the veins were dark and branching away from the opening. It was impossible, how a body could be preserved this well, underwater, for 60 years. It's not material.

I chose not to look at the autopsy evaluation that was included, though there was a note of details from the operation that Kasie scribbled on a sticky note.

'Strange Observation #7 from autopsy: Sea slug found in her stomach, was leaking some sort of gross red liquid. Wasn't blood, didn't smell like it.'

With a sigh, I re-organized the pictures, closed the folder, and poured myself another glass of whiskey.


hi! rtr here! sorry for not updating in a while. i've been traveling and i have the energy sucked out of me lol, but don't worry! i already have the basic plot points written down in my notes so i can follow them without having to remember what i was going to write. i hope to have a consistent updating schedule (haha no that wont happen) and school is starting soon, so i also hope to write out the rest of this planned story before i get busy. i actually might write it all and then stagger release them, which would cause a little bit of a hiatus for me since i'd be writing those. anyways, feel free to review, constructive criticism is encouraged! have a blessed day and papa bless!

-rtr