Time seems to move in slow motion as Abigail's mind registers what's happening and realizes the situation she's in, the muzzle flash of the weapon firing at her expanding slowly and steadily. The flash lights up her attacker's face in some small measure, but Abigail's more interested in what looks to be her impending doom, in the form of a bullet.
"Damn, no time ta' dodge!" Abigail's mind races in the split second before the bullet would slam into her, the young redhead having to make do with what she has even though she's half-blinded from looking from light to dark; her Hand Cannon's up and aimed roughly in the shooter's direction, and her left hand's raised though there is no Vigor at her fingertips yet. "Do I have enough time?"
The answer comes a heartbeat later, time resuming its normal flow as Abigail splays her fingers wide and a shimmering field of blue appears before the redhead. Her relief is almost palpable as an odd 'plink' sounds, the deadly round striking the shimmering blue shield and bouncing off harmlessly. It's not until half a second later that Abigail can breathe again, the young Vox suddenly grateful for her new Vigor.
"Return to Sender?" Looking up as a woman's voice comes from the shooter in the dark, Abigail has to wonder why her attacker stopped shooting, "I'll never get used to the odd names you people use for your Plasmids."
Gunfire erupts again, but Abigail's already moving even as the woman fires a couple shots at her at a time, the shield keeping the stray few that she fails to dodge from harming her. And Abigail fires back even though she hasn't the time to line up her shot; her opponent's moving too, though she's not scrambling about the corridor like Abigail is. The young woman is starting to get a bad feeling as she realizes what word the other woman used. "Wait, Plasmid?"
The distant sound of a clip falling from a weapon sounds, Abigail taking the brief opportunity to peer back at her opponent. And the young redhead feels a grimace coming on as her suspicions are confirmed, "I remember ya'."
Now that Abigail's away from the decorated security door and the light streaming into the gloomy corridor from it, her eyes have adjusted quickly to the dark, enough to make out just who her opponent is; though she no longer wears the long beige coat and dark glasses from their last encounter, the woman's long, raven black hair is a dead giveaway. The woman who'd thrown her to the ground in Emporia with ease, the streaks of silver trailing after her impossibly fast moves burned into Abigail's memory.
She wears the blue uniform of the Columbian military, essentially no different than Abigail's own appropriated outfit, and a strange white patch on her shoulder catches the Vox's eye; she can't make it out in the gloom and at this distance, though. Her opponent also carries a Broadsider pistol, the small caliber weapon not normally something Abigail would worry about, but this is anything but a normal encounter.
And the amused, condescending look the raven-haired woman wears as she looks back at Abigail makes the redhead want to grind her teeth. But she also knows that she may be in a great deal of trouble.
"She coulda put a bullet in me by now if she used that silver flash thing she does…" Abigail grimaces again at the thought; she remembers all too well the speed at which the woman moved during their last encounter, and that's probably not even the worst of it. Knowing what she does of the place this mystery woman came from, Abigail wouldn't at all be surprised if her opponent had several nasty surprises in store.
"Likely got another Plasmid or two, don't ya', love?" The sound of a magazine sliding into place signals the end of the momentary pause, Abigail already moving as she mutters beneath her breath and bullets start flying, snapping off a return shot of her own. Both of their gunshots echo in the dark, gloomy asylum wing, and the inhabitants of the cells lining the corridor aren't happy about it; hoots, cries and screams of displeasure fill the shadowy hallway, an inhuman racket unlike anything Abigail's ever heard before.
The shimmering blue shield collapses as a trio of bullets slam into the Vigor-born barrier, and Abigail has to dive into a roll to avoid the following shots, bolting the moment she has her feet under her again; she's closing with the woman, but Abigail has no idea what she'll do when she gets there.
"Hell's bells! I can't even get a clean shot off at her!" She's completely on the defensive, Abigail throwing up another Return to Sender shield; she'd be gaining no ground at all if it weren't for the Vigor, and she's not too keen on using Murder of Crows. That Vigor's just too costly, and she can't risk the expenditure if her opponent could just dodge out of the way. Then her shield collapses again, and Abigail prepares Return to Sender yet again.
But a bullet whizzes past her scarred right cheek and ricochets off the metal door beside her, and Abigail winces, at least until she hears the 'click' of an empty magazine; this time, she raises her Hand cannon and takes careful aim, Abigail firing square at the raven-haired woman's chest.
The two women are no more than ten feet apart now, and against any opponent aside from a Handyman, Abigail would have a severely injured or very dead enemy on her hands after a shot like this. But this time, it goes just as she'd figured it would; the woman from Rapture slips out of the path of the bullet, dodging in a blur of silver by leaning back impossibly fast, her torso almost parallel to the ground for a split second.
"Son of a… hey!" Still aiming at the woman, Abigail takes a deep breath to forestall a curse, shouting at her opponent instead, "What the hell kinda Plasmid is that, Rapture lady?"
"Wait… what?" The woman blinks, staring back incredulously at Abigail, the smirk she's been wearing all this time vanishing.
"Gotcha." As the woman pauses for a moment, seemingly trying to comprehend Abigail's statement, the young redhead takes advantage of the respite and her enemy's surprise; she fires another shot at the dead center of the woman's chest again, this the best opportunity Abigail can ever imagine she'd get.
And the bullet almost hits; at the very last second, the raven-haired woman jerks her left shoulder back and follows through with the movement, pivoting on her right heel and falling back to her right in another display of wispy silver streaks. The bullet sails past harmlessly, all it doing is causing the woman to fall and leaving a small slash to appear in her uniform, the tear on the left shoulder all that's left by its passing.
"I've got ya…!" 'Click'. Abigail looks down at her Hand Cannon in horror, the weapon making another 'click' sound as she pulls the trigger again, "Oh no…" Bringing her left hand up again, Abigail prepares to defend herself with Return to Sender from the woman's counterattack. But a return volley doesn't come.
"Heh… heh heh…" A dark, malevolent chuckle comes from the raven-haired woman as she rises, "I never thought a redheaded, potato-eating leprechaun would know about Rapture and Plasmids. How did you come to learn about the city, and how did you know I was from there?" Abigail bristles as the woman speaks, the woman's mocking voice slightly husky, but no less feminine for it.
Abigail keeps quiet despite her anger, trying to figure how she can reload without getting shot in the process; she needs her left hand to do so, but then she can't use Return to Sender, and if she uses the Vigor beforehand, the woman can just start shooting. But the woman just shakes her head, "I guess I'll just have to do this the hard way…" The Broadsider falls to the smooth stone floor with a clatter, the raven-haired woman drawing a long, vicious looking knife from her belt. "Try not to pass out too quickly. I do hope you know how to use that blade on your back."
Abigail's eyes go wide, the vicious knife not holding a candle to the look in the woman's cold green eyes, "… things 'ave just gotten a lot more dangerous…" Dropping her empty Hand Cannon, Abigail instead grabs the pommel of her sword; she only has the blade half drawn when her foe charges.
The woman's fast even without the silvery Plasmid, crashing into Abigail with enough force to knock the redhead back a few feet, only the fact that the young woman managed to use Return to Sender to block the knife with a short-lived shield keeping her from being anything more than battered by the blow. But now that they're within striking distance of one another, Abigail finally realizes something, "She's… she's got almost a head on me! She's almost as tall as Booker!"
"What are you mumbling about?" The flash of the blade as it swings at her spurs Abigail to action, drawing her sword fully and deflecting the lethal knife. The loud 'clang' she'd expected, but the vibration of her weapon upon impact nearly jerks Abigail's sword from her grip; the woman hits hard!
"You're a Splicer, aren't ya'?" Swiping her blade horizontally at the woman's midsection, Abigail shouts back as her opponent hops away; she isn't even using that Plasmid yet.
"Splicer? I'm perfectly sane, you little whore!" Closing with her again, the woman from Rapture slashes three times in rapid succession, Abigail barely managing to block with her heavier, cumbersome weapon. But the woman swings again, putting her considerable strength into pushing Abigail back.
"Then why'd ya' come here?!" Abigail takes her left hand form her sword's pommel and balls it into a fist, lashing out and connecting with her opponent's jaw. But it doesn't have the desired effect.
"That's it?" The woman grabs Abigail's fist and forces it away before chuckling, the grip on the redhead's wrist drawing a yelp from her.
"Oh sh-" A head butt interrupts Abigail, sending the young woman reeling as the taller one presses her attack; Abigail can't quite defend herself, and she's quickly pushed all the way back down the hall and up against one of the angel statues there.
"Now, are you going to talk?" Stepping back and pointing her long, partly serrated knife at Abigail's face, the woman cocks her head, "Or are we going to do this the hard way?"
"G-go ta' hell." Breathing hard, Abigail has her left hand against the wall for support while her right holds the sword between her and the spliced up woman. But it looks like her foe has her dead to rights, and when she tsk-tsks, Abigail lets out a long, slow breath; it's now or never.
When the woman lunges, Abigail brings up her left hand again and flexes her fingers, this time into claws rather than splaying them out; an altogether different use of Return to Sender.
The vicious looking knife stops cold, the tip of the blade caught in a shifting, swirling, ball-shaped vortex of orange and black energy in Abigail's hand. "Bet ya' didn't know Return ta' Sender can be used like this, huh, Rapture lady!?"
The surprise on her opponent's face is priceless, but Abigail can't relish it just yet; she can feel her Salts draining fast, the knife shaking as the woman tries to force it through and the sphere in her hand glowing brighter as it is fed more and more energy. Abigail draws back the hand that's wrapped around her sword's pommel, shouting the moment her elbow touches the statue she's pressed up against, "Here, let's try this again!"
Lashing out with her fist rather than the sword, the close combat making the blade's length a burden, Abigail grins as the woman jumps away in a blur of silver light; just what she was waiting for. "Eat it, ya' freak!" Abigail hurtles the swirling orb of black and orange at her foe.
"No!" The woman jumps away yet again, but the orb detonates no more than a few feet from her despite the effort; the corridor's lit up by a brief flash of orange light, the explosion sending the denizen of Rapture tumbling away with a shout of pain. Abigail isn't spared the blast, either; the young redhead is forced against the statue and buffeted by the explosion, though to a far less extent than her opponent.
In the aftermath of the explosion, Abigail manages a shaky step, nearly stumbling from the exertion. "That… that isn't enough ta' stop her… is it?" Peering into the gloom, Abigail gulps when she spies her foe lying face down on the smooth stone floor, still smoldering. And still breathing, still gripping the knife.
And she stirs, the raven-haired woman rising slowly and pushing herself up from the floor, spitting blood. She looks battered, but not too worse for wear, and there's murder in her cold green eyes when she looks at Abigail. "Who are you?"
"Abigail of the Vox." Answering without a moment's hesitation, Abigail raises her sword, "That's all ya' need ta' know, lady." She takes a shaky step forward, running on pure adrenaline now.
"I am Commander Mercier. The Prophet himself granted me my rank not three days ago, and I came from that godforsaken city beneath the sea to serve a great man like Father Comstock." Rising slowly herself, Mercier glowers at Abigail, "And once I'm done with you, I'll hunt down that False Shepherd as well."
"Heh… heh… ha ha ha…" Though she's sore and exhausted, Abigail feels a sudden urge to start laughing despite her situation, and she has to plant the tip of her sword on the ground to keep from falling as laughter escapes her; while it starts weak, the fit of laughter grows quickly, and soon she has to hold her stomach. And the puzzled look on Mercier's face only makes it that much worse.
"What is this? I demand to know what's so funny!" The imperious tone in Mercier's voice draws another peal of laughter from the already out of breath redhead, Abigail having to fight to get any air between laughs.
"Ya'… ya' better hurry then." Once the laughter subsides, Abigail raises her weapon again, though she holds it loosely at her side, "If he ain't in the ground already, your dear Comstock's gonna be dead soon. Booker's gonna put that bastard Prophet of yours down."
"You place your hopes on the False Shepherd? It's impossible…"
"They're on the Hand of the Prophet now. Ya' Founders can't stop him; he'll be drownin' Comstock in his baptismal font any time now. And I…" Abigail brings the swirling orb of energy to her hand again, though it's mostly for show, "I ain't goin' down easy, love. Comstock's not the only one who can play Prophet with Tears."
The mention of Tears drains all the color from Mercier's face, and she takes a step back, "I won't let that happen… you get to live for today, whore."
A deep, heavy sigh of relief escapes Abigail once the sound of Mercier's footfalls is gone, the woman sprinting out of the wing with only her knife in hand, and the young redhead damn near collapses as the tension leaves her.
"Whoever that woman is… she's dangerous… and why in the hell would she want ta' come here an' join Comstock?" Abigail just can't understand why the woman would go to the trouble; didn't she have to suffer Tear sickness to come here? Muttering to herself as she shakes her head, Abigail trudges over to where her fallen Hand Cannon rests, sheathing her sword along the way. But the trudge quickly turns into a limp, pain shooting up Abigail's leg as adrenaline abandons her, "Hell's bells… that's gonna leave a scar."
There's an angry red gash running diagonally down her left thigh, starting from the upper outside and going inward as it travels south. Blood has already dampened the blue cloth of her stolen uniform there, and the pain's only getting worse. Still, Abigail limps over to retrieve her weapon, the act taking a good minute or two.
"Gah! W-Who are you? Guards, guards!"
A shout comes from the direction the woman from Rapture had disappeared, Abigail wondering what can happen now as she looks down the dark hallway. But light suddenly fills the corridor, forcing Abigail to blink as she's momentarily dazzled. When her vision clears, Abigail finds a middle-aged woman standing at the far end of the hallway, a cart in front of her with what looks to be food on it. A caretaker probably, and a spinster at that more than likely. And she's scared, that much is plain, even though the hoots and howls from the other cells have diminished.
"Y-you can't have her!" Stammering at Abigail, the spinster keeps her distance, sounding as if she's unaccustomed to speaking with people.
"Her…" Blinking, Abigail realizes she'd momentarily forgotten why she was here in the first place after the close call with Mercier, and the redhead turns and hobbles over to the decorated door as quickly as she's able.
Peering into the room again, Abigail strains to see as deep into the left side as possible. But all she can make out is a figure under the covers of the bed, delicate hands that can only be a woman's crossed over the sleeper's stomach at the absolute edge of her vision. But a glint of silver causes Abigail's breath to catch in her throat.
It's the thimble, the silver thimble that adorned Booker's Elizabeth's right pinky finger, and covers up the severed portion of said finger. What she sees before her is exactly what Abigail recalls from Booker's memories, "It's… it's her…"
"No! You can't disturb her!" The sound of the cart barreling towards Abigail precedes the spinster's voice, the young woman turning about to see the caretaker abandoning the cart as she approaches and runs up to her, flailing. She must be trying to fight Abigail off, even though her blows only surprise the young redhead; they're too weak to even be called strikes.
"Stop… stop!" Grabbing the woman by the shoulders, Abigail holds the spinster at arm's length, inwardly wincing at the almost desperate tone in her voice, "Ya' know the code ta' get in here, right? Show me! She… she don't deserve ta' be locked up in here!"
"But… but she can't go anywhere else!" Now the spinster looks like she's about to cry, "She… she just can't! And I won't let you hurt her!"
"What do you mean, she can't?" Even as a sense of dread begins to form in the pit of her stomach, Abigail realizes she must be crushing the spinster's shoulders in her grip, and eases up. "What happened to Elizabeth?"
The woman stares back at her forlornly for a moment before looking down, her voice a whisper, "I… I have to take away the withered flowers… after I feed her…"
"Did she… retreat inward? C'mon, snap outta it!" The caretaker's reaction only makes Abigail's dread grow, and she shakes the woman once, then twice, "Tell me!"
"My… my cart." The spinster steps towards her cart, and Abigail releases her grip on the middle-aged woman. From an unseen lower level of the cart, the caretaker produces a voxophone, covered in a thin layer of dust like the furniture in the room beyond. "Take it… you just can't take her. The guards are coming... just… just go!" With that, the spinster pushes the voxophone into Abigail's hands with a surprising amount of strength before pushing her away, "I… I have to take away the dead flowers… so sad… her father brought them, but he hasn't been back…"
Abigail wants to press the caretaker further as the older woman retreats into her work again, but a 'ding' comes from the elevator, the doors opening a second later. "Abby!"
"Viv?"
Vivian appears from the elevator and hurries over to Abigail, her eyes going wide when she sees the gash in her leg, "Abby, we have to go, the Founders are on to us. There's four gunships coming, we've got maybe five minutes!"
"No… wait, no! I'm so… she's right there!" Motioning to the decorated door, a sense of desperation grips Abigail as Vivian starts hurrying her to the elevator; she's too beat to put up much resistance, and even though her friend's taking her to safety, being so close only to be pulled away tears at Abigail. She might just have cried if she had the energy.
The last thing Abigail sees of the asylum wing and Elizabeth's cage as the doors close is the caretaker leaning close to the dual-dial lock on the door, and she whispers as she clutches the voxophone to her chest, "No… I… I'm coming back… I'll be back."
Author's Note: For the record, Mercier is the woman from Rapture's surname. Well, a lot of people have been making guesses at who she could've been, and sorry to say she's just an original character to act as an antagonist. Now, this chapter isn't as long as it could have been, only 3.5k words roughly before the note here, but this felt like a good place to stop.
Of course, there's still plenty of questions for this chapter. Why is Elizabeth, if that really is Elizabeth, in that room in the asylum and unable to leave? What's up with the woman from Rapture, and just how spliced up do you think she is? And what do you think will happen once Comstock is dead and both Booker and Elizabeth leave Columbia to wipe out all the Comstock's?
Regardless, I'll be giving the chapter one last lookover in the coming days, as per usual. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.