Here's a new story I plan to make into an exploration on our nature through the eyes of Subject Delta, the main character of my favorite game of all time, Bioshock 2. Please leave reviews to point out any mistakes, as I am uploading this at 2AM and wanting to try and improve my writing style.
You had done it. Finally. After all the struggles, and the triumphs. Clearing a path across Rapture, meeting and saving some of the last sane inhabitants from their personal prisons. Grace Holloway was the first. Even though she held a grudge that led to your near death more than a few times throughout the trek inside her hotel, you had proven to her that you were no monster, but a man who could let go, and so could she. Stanley was another story altogether.
He was guilty of bringing the fate you now embraced, and the former captivity of your precious girl. At first, you were furious. You stomped with hatred and boiling blood into the control booth, loading heavy rivets to make sure it hurt. Stanley knelt to the ground, pleading for mercy though he deserved none. He looked pathetic, sickening. There was no place for men like him. Not in this world. It had enough cruelty and selfishness rotting it from the inside out. As the finger twitched in anticipation on the trigger, you stopped. Killing him wouldn't undo the past, and if the past hadn't occurred, you may not have had the opportunity to have met your daughter, your Eleanor. You picked him up from his sorry position on the floor, but you did "accidentally" squeeze him a little tighter than comfort allowed before taking the tram to Fountaine Futuristics.
Lastly was Alexander. Poor Alexander. His insane, ADAM warped body and mind was the largest challenge you faced. That, combined with his obvious instability, left little doubt in your mind what needed to be done. You couldn't allow something like that to live, if not for revenge, than for pity and remorse for the man whom was gone forever. You pulled the lever to fill the tank with electricity, but couldn't bear to watch what happened next. You moved away as his screams of pain filled your helmet.
Eleanor had seen it all; every last act of mercy and forgiveness, and took pride in knowing that her father was still a man with heart underneath the pain and scarring. Sophia's bombs had gotten you critically during the escape attempt to the submersible. On the surface, you had seen the sun for what felt like the first time, and what would definitely be the last. Not just the sun on the sky, but your shining star Eleanor's face, radiant even in your darkest hour, her final moments with the father she never had. You closed your eyes, feeling at peace, knowing that you and your other sisters that you and she had rescued along the way would have a chance at life. Sophia's words echoed in your mind.
"Rapture is the house of monsters. The surface will not have us."
Perhaps she was right. Your time and your place were over now. You reached out and held a hand weakly to Eleanor's cheek. You couldn't feel the warmth through the thick fabric that served as your diving suit's gloves. Knowing you would never be capable of experiencing or giving a delicate touch was a burden, but not a heavy one. It was hard to think. Your body had begun to shut down completely, both from the protector bond being severed and your massive internal trauma.
"Father, please don't leave me. I need you." Eleanor whispered, her voice muffled in your ears. Tears began to make streams down her cheeks and she stared into the faceplate of her knight in shining armor. The man who had gone through Hell to give her, to give all the little ones, a chance at a normal life. Slowly, the sisters that had been rescued pulled themselves through the hatch to meet with the pair on top of the lifeboat. Twelve had gathered before them, one of which being the girl that you had controlled to help the two of you escape. Eleanor looked to her, and then gasped. The plasmid that let you control her. ADAM was just stem cells. If she could get you enough to get you stable, she might be able to save you. Not wanting to harm the girls anymore, she did the only thing she could think of, and stabbed herself in the abdomen with her Big Sister harvesting needle. The pain was unbearable as the syringe extracted her ADAM and filled up a vial with the glowing red liquid. She keeled over in pain, the needle pulling out, and Eleanor had to fight to bring herself on top of you, barely conscious, to inject the needle through the port in the suit on your hand.
You grunted in pain as the ADAM reassembled your DNA yet again. Even after all the splicing you had done, it never got any easier it seemed. Maybe you weren't addicted because you were more ADAM than human now, and that's why it hurt. Regardless, your mind began to focus again. Your limbs burned and twitched with anticipation and reinvigorated strength. You wrapped your oversized arm around Eleanor's torso and tried to force yourself up. Thankfully, two of the sisters helped you to a sitting position as you cradled the daughter you never asked for, and yet loved more deeply than you could've imagined. You and the girls sat together, in somber silence, watching Eleanor as the last three days sank into your collective consciousness. Minutes ticked by like years, as you watched your precious girl's chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm, shifting from agonized to calm in her slumber. The minutes turned to hours, and the setting sun sank into that damnable sea. You weren't bothered by the time, as you had no need to sleep but three hours every five days due to your genetic enhancements. The same could not be said for the girls.
"Daddy, we're tired." one of the girls said.
As if to punctuate her, another former Sister yawned deeply, and a few caught the yawn as well. Without so much as a thought, your body stood up like you were a soulless husk, and nearly ripped the hatch door off in your stupor of decompressing stress and longing for your daughter melded into a single beast. Carrying her down over your shoulder in one arm, you moved into bridal style so you could lie her down on the only bed available in the small boat. Eleanor's eyes wearily fluttered open, and she reached out as if to touch your cheek as you had hers. She looked as if she would leave this cruel mortal coil at any moment. Her skin was pale and dotted with cold sweat and seawater. Her eyes were glazed over, swollen and red from tears. Hair matted and tangled from combat inside her armored helmet. You gingerly placed her onto the bed like a delicate doll, and she softly spoke with what little strength she had, her hand barely connecting with your helmet's neck seam.
"Father, let me see you."
