BIOSHOCK DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. ONE DAY, HOWEVER, I WILL DEVELOP THE ABILITY TO SHOOT FIRE FROM MY HANDS. I JUST NEED TO GET AN ASSISTANT WHOSE ARMS DON'T EXPLODE EVERY TIME I EXPERIMENT ON HIM.

All right, here we go again! Time for a new point of view!

Bioshock: Constants and Variables

Chapter 2

Jack and the Madman

"Shut up, I'm probably about to do something cool."

Well. That's not how I expected Booker to respond. Then again, nothing he'd said or done tonight had been normal. Surviving an exploding plane and acting casual about it, or being unimpressed by the weird lighthouse in the middle of nowhere. And then he actually seemed to find being inside a tiny submarine to be… funny?

Even if he was a little unhinged, I considered him better than no company at all. At least, until he pulled out a gun! Did he have that on the plane!? Why!? I mean, yes, the underwater city—Rapture, that man Ryan called it—was probably full of danger, but Booker couldn't have known about any… of…

Oh. Maybe he knew more than he was letting on.

The sub jerked as it landed—or was it docked? I don't understand nautical terms—and then started to surface. One of the voices from before came through the radio.

"O-okay, I see the 'sphere, it's comin' up now!"

"Johnny, security's bangin' off all over," the Irish man said, "get a move on!"

As the sub bobbed up and down, I looked through the window and saw a man—probably Johnny—slowly backing away from someone.

"Please, lady," he begged, "I didn't mean no trespass… just don't hurt me!" That didn't sound good. "You can have my gun, you can—"

The lights flickered, just as someone, a woman, lunged at him, stabbing the poor fellow with what looked like a rusty hook. With a vicious twist, he was eviscerated.

"Aw, shit," Booker muttered. He didn't sound shocked or horrified, like how I felt; instead, he sounded disappointed.

"Is it someone new?" The woman, who wore a dirty dress and a strange mask on her face, staggered toward us, like she was drunk. Then she screamed, and jumped, far higher than she should have been able to, and landed on top of the sub. Metal shrieked as she began to peel the top away.

"Cover your ears, this always sucks the first time," Booker told me, then aimed his huge revolver up. "Fuck off, bitch!"

I brought my hands over my ears just as he pulled the trigger. Damn, that was loud! The bullet punched through the metal, and I heard a scream of pain. The woman jumped off and ran into the shadows.

"I was right," Booker muttered. "I've been here less than five minutes, and someone's already tried to kill me. Fuckin' unbelievable."

Before I could say anything, the radio turned on, and I heard the Irish man again. "Would you kindly pick up that short-range radio?"

I did so, thankful that it was actually portable, not built into the sub. "Hello? Who are you?"

"I don't know how you two survived that plane crash, but I've never been one to question Providence. I'm Atlas, by the way, and I am to keep you boys alive. You should keep on moving… you'll need to get to higher ground."

"Is it ironic that someone doesn't question Providence in a city that rejects things like religion?" Booker grinned. "I've always been bad with irony, so I'm just asking."

"I'd like to think it is," Atlas replied. "Mind telling me your names while I get that bathysphere open?"

"Jack," I said. I kind of liked this guy so far; he was polite, and had some kind of humor.

"I'm Booker. Say, is everyone in this city a lunatic, or was that a special case?"

"Oh, it's nearly everyone. Rapture may sound nice, and there's plenty of water, but it's Hell down here, don't let the lack of fire fool you."

Booker sighed. "Yeah, I knew my shitty luck would kick in soon." He brightened as the door swung open. "Okay, Cortana, where to?"

"The name is Atlas."

"Whatever, you're a disembodied voice that's telling us where to go and what to do. I've got at least five other names to give you, and they're all of people who can do your job."

I could almost hear Atlas rolling his eyes. "Just get moving. If you're gonna have a safe start, we'll have to draw her out of hiding. Don't worry, I won't leave you twisting in the wind."

Booker twirled his pistol as he started walking. "Sure, let's go. Come on, Jack; we're off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz!"

And then he started to skip. I swear, he actually skipped.

"Your buddy isn't all there, is he?"

"I don't think so," I admitted, "but he's got a gun, and he seems like he wants to help."

"Then just be careful; friends are hard to come by these days."

I followed after Booker, walking around rubble and ducking under fallen chunks of the building. Rapture might have looked pretty from the outside, but on the inside, it looked like a war had gone down.

"There's a small spotlight not too far from you," Atlas told us. "As soon as you find it, stand directly underneath it… and trust me."

"How are you tracking us?" Booker asked, looking serious again. "Are there cameras, or does the radio have a signal that you're following?"

"Both, actually," Atlas admitted. "The cameras are few and far between, though; mostly at security stations and a few vital areas that I've been able to keep safe. For the most part, I'm following your progress on a map."

"Okay, good, I didn't want you to go completely Big Brother on me."

"Isn't that a book?" I asked.

Booker gave me a look, though I'm not sure for what. "Yes."

We found the spotlight, and as Atlas instructed, we stood underneath it. A moment later, the crazy woman came back and screamed at us. Before Booker could aim his gun, sirens went off, and a strange machine flew out of a hole in the wall. It was a small, boxy thing, held in the air with a propeller and had a large gun underneath. The woman screamed again as the machine shot at her.

"Ha! How do you like that, sister!?" Atlas crowed as the woman crawled up the wall like a spider and disappeared through another hole.

"You know, I was hoping that that would kill her," Booker said. "This means she'll probably come back."

"Yeah, splicers don't give up easily. Sorry." I could almost hear Atlas shrugging. "Now, would you kindly find a crowbar or something? Bloody splicers sealed Johnny in before they… goddamn splicers."

That was a good idea; with a tool of some kind, I'd be able to actually do something, instead of relying on Booker or Atlas to help me. Thankfully, there was a large wrench not too far away; I gave it a few experimental swings, and found that I liked the heft.

"Do you need something, Booker?" I asked.

"Nah." Booker flicked his wrist, and what looked like a cross between a three-pronged hook and a sawblade unfolded. "I'm good."

"What the hell is that thing?"

"Skyhook," Booker said, as if that explained everything, then retracted the weapon. "Good for climbing, puzzle-solving, and dismembering my enemies."

"I'll take your word for it."

After a bit of work, I managed to smash apart the rubble blocking our path. I was about to head up the stairs, but then a flaming sofa, of all things, rolled down towards us. Booker grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back before I got hit. For the first time since coming here, I found myself wanting to hit someone; I was not going to be killed by a damn couch! There was some gibberish from someone further along, but when we got to the top of the stairs, there was no one there.

"Oh, this is going to suck," Booker muttered as we kept going. "I've seen this movie; we're gonna get ambushed any second."

I would have called him paranoid, but then two people—splicers—rushed out of the shadows, screaming like lunatics. I recognized one as the woman who had killed Johnny, and the man was probably the one who had tried to kill me with the sofa.

"Hey, bitch!" Booker rushed towards the woman, his Skyhook thing out and ready. "I've got something for you!"

What happened next was so fast that I barely saw it; Booker somehow shoved his spinning blade into the woman's arm, dragged her around, punched her in the gut, ripped out the blade and tore it across her throat, all in less than three seconds.

"On your right!" he shouted.

I swung my wrench on reflex. There was a loud crack as it connected with the splicer's jaw; still, he tried to hit me with a rusty pipe. I ducked under it, then hit him in the ribs, pushed him onto his back, and swung one more time. Crazy as the man was, he didn't get back up after having his skull smashed open.

"Shit, that was messy." Booker pointed at the blood spattered across my sweater. I felt sick, and threw up; a small part of me was grateful that I'd missed both our shoes. "Easy, easy. Take a deep breath, count to four, and let it out."

I did as he said; after a minute, I felt better. "Thanks."

"No problem. You good?" I saw actual concern in his eyes, and I nodded. "Good. Hey, Atlas, where to next?"

"Well, you boyos are gonna have to fight fire with fire. The best way to beat a splicer is to splice up yourself." I'm sorry, what? "There's a plasmid nearby that'll be helpful, but I think there's only enough for one dose."

"By 'plasmid', do you mean the weird bottles with suspicious red liquid inside of the vending machines?" Booker pointed across the room to the machine in question. A bottle sat in the dispenser, looking both inviting and terrifying.

"Yeah, that's the one."

Booker looked at the plasmid, then at me. "You know what? I'll let you have this one. I don't like needles."

Really? This was a man who had no problem killing people, but he was afraid of needles? Booker didn't make any sense at all. I shrugged, and picked up the plasmid; after filling up the red hypo, I stuck it in my wrist and—

Oh my god! The pain was indescribable. Everything was spinning, and it looked like the veins in my arms were glowing blue. It had to be my imagination, but I thought I saw electrical sparks jump off my fingers.

"Steady now," I faintly heard Atlas say. "Your genetic code is being rewritten. Just calm down, and everything will be fine!"

"That's not actually helpful!" Booker shouted.

Then I staggered over to the railing and tripped. The last thing I saw was the floor rushing up to meet me.

…

Everything still hurt when I woke up. It also felt like my skin was buzzing, which was really strange.

"Good, you're awake." I turned and saw Booker, leaning against a broken pillar, twirling his pistol like he was some kind of cowboy. "Hey, Atlas, he woke up."

"Finally. First time plasmid's a real kick from a mule, but there's nothin' like a fistful of lightning, now, is there?"

"Um… what?" Not the best response I've ever had, but then again, it sounded like Atlas was suggesting… but it was impossible.

"You've got a buzzing feeling in your skin, right?" Booker grinned, and pointed at a dead splicer. "Just make a throwing motion, and your plasmid thing should do the rest."

I was too confused to even question it. I pushed my left hand at the corpse; to my shock, a bolt of lightning shot out and turned the splicer's shoulder into a blackened mess. It was at that point that I realized that that splicer wasn't one who had attacked us. There was another one further away; the way his body was flopped over suggested that most of his bones were broken.

Booker seemed to figure out what I was thinking. "Some more of those assholes showed up. I took care of them. Then Atlas told me to hide from the Little Sister and the Big Daddy."

"The what and the what?"

"A little girl, creepy glowing eyes, and a big bastard in a diving suit with a drill for an arm." I was starting to get unnerved by how calm Booker was acting about all this. "I didn't want you to get stepped on if I tried taking on the Big Daddy, so I got you out of sight until they were gone."

"Uh-huh." I think my brain was finally working again. "How did you know how to teach me about the lightning?"

Booker grinned and held up a fist. Lightning crackled across it, then fire, and then… feathers? "Let's just say that this isn't my first rodeo."

"Now that that's settled," Atlas said, "there's a door across the room, but it's locked. Would you kindly shock the control panel on the left to open it up?"

"Sure, I could use the practice." I took careful aim and fired another bolt. The panel fizzled, and then the door slid open.

It turned out that the door led to a long tunnel to another building; we didn't get very far before a part of the plane finally reached our depth and slammed into the tunnel.

"Seriously?" Booker sounded more annoyed than alarmed. "What are the odds that that would happen?"

I saw cracks begin to spread across the glass; it was only a matter of time before the whole thing shattered, and we drowned. "Just run!"

Thankfully, we made it to the other side and closed the door behind us before the whole thing collapsed. Atlas took the opportunity to start talking again.

"I've got something up ahead. More splicers. Say, Jack, why don't you try out that Electro Bolt of yours again? Yours probably won't be strong enough to kill 'em outright, but any good whack to the head will finish 'em after you zap 'em."

Booker grinned. "Don't worry, I've got your back."

"Thanks." Something that bothered me was how quickly I stopped caring about killing people. Then again, if all the splicers were as crazy as the last ones, I'd have to kill if I wanted to live.

The first splicer I saw had his back to me, which let me hesitate for a second. Then I hit him with the Electro Bolt; he jerked and flailed while electricity danced around him. He was just starting to scream when I crushed his skull with my wrench.

"That's it, boyo," Atlas said. "Zap 'em, then whack 'em. Fun trick: if you electrocute water that has splicers in it, your job's gonna be a lot easier."

"Ooh, I know that trick!" Booker grinned again. "In fact, I have something I want to try!"

Part of me was worried, but another part was more enthusiastic; Booker might have been unstable, but he seemed to know what he was doing.

The next time we ran into a splicer, Booker held up his hand to stop me. "When I say so, zap him," he whispered.

I nodded, and Booker drew back one arm; for an instant, his arm turned rubbery, and angry red suckers emerged. Then he pushed forward, and a tendril of water pulled the splicer right towards him! Booker clotheslined the splicer, knocking him down, and he nodded at me. The splicer was soaked by Booker's plasmid, and died pretty fast after I shocked him.

"Okay, we need to remember that one," Booker said.

The next group of splicers was mindlessly standing around in a large puddle. I didn't even look at Booker for permission, and just zapped the water. This time, the splicers died screaming; unfortunately, this caught the attention of several more splicers, and there wasn't a convenient body of water to kill them all.

"Time to get to work." Booker put a bullet in the head of one splicer, then threw a ball of fire at two more.

Booker was… clearly more experienced at fighting than I was. He killed every splicer that came near him, and it looked like he was barely putting any effort into it. The only time he even got hit did nothing; a yellow light flashed over his body, but he was completely unaffected. The offending splicer had his throat slashed open for his troubles.

I, on the other hand, was having a bit more trouble. There were only a few splicers for me to deal with, but all I had was my wrench and my Electro Bolt. I killed two with the zap-and-whack, but another hit me in the back with a club and knocked me down. To my shock, the splicer was attacked by the other remaining one, who was glowing… green? After shoving one hook through the splicer's eye, my 'rescuer' did the same thing to himself.

"Yikes." I turned to see Booker lowering his hand, which had green wisps floating around it. "It's been a while since I've used that one. I almost forgot how creepy it is."

"What was that?" I asked.

"Possession," he said. "It makes enemies fight for me, and after a while, they kill themselves. It also works on some machines, which is awesome." He starting rifling through the dead splicers' clothes, pulling out money, bullets, and a few hypos filled with blue liquid. "Why would these idiots have bullets, but no gun? Also, Atlas?"

"Yeah?"

"I found some needles filled with blue stuff. What is it?"

"We call it EVE. Basically, it gives you more energy for your plasmids."

Come to think of it, I did feel a little strange; thirsty, in a way, but I didn't want a drink. Maybe that was my body's way of telling me that I was out of 'juice' for my plasmid.

"Huh. I was wondering about that." Booker tossed me two of the hypos. "Better recharge before the next fight. And, yes, there's going to be another one. There's always another one."

I injected myself with the EVE, and immediately felt better. Booker, however, cracked the lid off of his and drank it.

"Oh, that tastes gross." He shuddered, then clenched his hand; lightning danced across it. "Yeah, that's the stuff. All right, Atlas, next destination?"

"There's an elevator not too far from you. Get inside, and I'll get you to where you need to go." Thankfully, there weren't any more splicers along the way, so I had the chance to catch my breath. "Listen… I have a family. I need to get them out of here, but the splicers have cut me off from them. If you can reach them in Neptune's Bounty, then maybe, just maybe…"

It was clear that Atlas wanted our help. He hadn't steered us wrong yet, and no one should live in a crazy place like this. I glanced at Booker, but he was unreadable; maybe he was slower to trust than me, even if Atlas had helped us earlier.

"I know that you two must feel like the unluckiest men in the world right now," Atlas continued, "but you're the only hope I'll ever see my wife and child again. Go to Neptune's Bounty… find my family… please."

I opened my mouth to speak, but Booker beat me to it. "Favor for a favor, buddy," he said, more serious than I'd ever seen him. "We'll find your family, but I'm also looking for someone, and you've got more eyes and ears than me. Even if I find her before I find your family, I'll still help you, I promise."

"… Who're you looking for?"

"Her name is Elizabeth." The way Booker lingered on her name made me think that she was his sweetheart or something. "Short, dark hair, might be appearing in different parts of the city way too fast to be normal."

"Haven't seen anyone like that recently, but I'll keep an eye out. If I can, I'll send some security bots to keep her safe."

Booker laughed. "I'm sure she'd appreciate the gesture, but she's the last person who needs protecting."

"She's got plasmids?" I asked.

Booker just smirked; I would have pressed for more, but then the elevator finally arrived, and the door opened. We'd just started heading towards a restaurant that was on the way to Neptune's Bounty—there were helpful maps all over the place that told us where we were—when we heard a voice. It was a woman, and as we crept closer, we saw her standing over a baby carriage, cooing over something that was too still to be alive.

Booker pointed to himself, then the woman; he'd take care of it. I nodded, and Booker unfolded his skyhook, drew it back like it was about to punch… and then he moved like a bullet, his spinning blade neatly decapitating the woman. I don't know what kind of plasmid that was, but I liked it.

"Huh, wonder what she was looking at." Booker glanced into the carriage, made a face, and pulled out a large revolver that was similar to his own. "I think this puts a whole new spin on the term 'gun nut'. Here, Jack, take it."

He handed the gun to me, along with some of the bullets he'd picked up before; apparently, they were the right size for both of our pistols.

"Plasmids changed everything," Atlas commented. "They destroyed our bodies, our minds… we couldn't handle it. Best friends butchering each other, babies strangled in cribs… the whole city went to hell."

And I had put one of those things inside me!? My only hope was that I would only turn into a gibbering mess if I used a lot more. I mean, Booker had more than one plasmid, and he was a little off.

I didn't have much time to think about that, though, because as soon as we entered the restaurant, we were attacked by another group of splicers. Booker knocked most of them down with that water plasmid, soaking the splicers and leaving a convenient puddle for me to electrocute. I ducked under a hatchet used by another splicer, aimed my pistol at point-blank range, and pulled the trigger. My hand bucked from the recoil, but the shot blew a large hole in the splicer's gut; he wasn't dead, but a quick blow from my wrench finished the job.

By the time I was done, Booker had killed the surviving splicers and was already rummaging through their belongings.

"Why are you doing that?" I asked.

"They don't need it," Booker said, pocketing some cash, bullets and EVE hypos. He tossed some ammunition and EVE my way as well. "Trust me, in a place like this, it's a good idea to have as much stuff on hand as possible. By the way, you're bleeding."

"What?" I realized that blood was trickling down my face, and this time, it was mine. I must have taken a graze from that hatchet.

"Here you go." Booker cracked open a first aid kit that he'd taken from a splicer and stopped the bleeding. He then put his hand on my shoulder; yellow light crackled over me, cleaning off not just the blood on my face, but the spatter and other filth that had quickly covered me.

"Just how many tricks do you have?" I asked.

Booker laughed. "Dude, I haven't even shown you half of what I can do. And that last one was just part of my shield; it cleans stuff off me, and anyone I touch. Very useful for getting rid of blood-borne pathogens."

Oh, so that explained why Booker was not only unhurt, but why he was spotless. Maybe that shield had a limit, but it was still useful, and I found myself wanting one.

After thoroughly looting everything that could be useful—including some vacuum-sealed food, because we were getting hungry—we made our way out. Unfortunately, the only way to the next area was through the restroom, which stank more than normal, and had a giant hole going out the back. A length of scaffolding made for a makeshift bridge, which seemed to go over some kind of studio.

Why would a restaurant be right next to a studio? Wouldn't that be disruptive? Never mind, the idea of Rapture was strange enough; if I tried thinking about it too much, I'd just give myself a headache.

"Oh, shit, there she is again," Booker whispered, and pointed down.

The radio squeaked, and I quickly lowered the volume. "Careful, now," Atlas said. "Would you kindly lower your weapon?"

There, bleeding out on the floor, was a dead splicer. Standing over his body, however, was a little girl in a pink dress. I quickly put my gun away; I wasn't going to shoot a kid.

"What's a child doing here?" I asked quietly.

"You think that's a child down there?" Atlas' sneer was obvious. "Don't be fooled. She's a Little Sister now. Somebody went and turned a sweet baby girl into a monster. Whatever you thought about right and wrong on the surface… well, that don't count for much down in Rapture." I was starting to feel sick again as Booker and I made our way down to a booth; the 'Little Sister' now had a thick sheet of glass between her and us. "Those Little Sisters… they carry ADAM—the genetic material that keeps the wheels of Rapture turning. Everybody wants it. Everybody needs it."

I was about to ask how the Little Sisters 'carried' the ADAM, but then I saw it. She took a strange device tipped with a long needle and shoved it into the corpse. On the other end of the tool was a red vial, which began to fill and glow. As soon as she was done, the girl tipped it back into her mouth and drank the substance.

"Oh my god," I whispered.

"What the actual fuck!?" Booker hissed. "I've seen some shit, but that's easily in the top five! How the fuck did anyone let… oh."

"What?"

"Ryan said it himself: 'Where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality'. This is a city where anyone could do anything they wanted, and someone let their inner Frankenstein out to play."

Before I could comment, a door next to the Little Sister opened, and a splicer walked in. He looked around, then walked towards the girl. She let out a scream, and he hit her in the head with the butt of his pistol. He didn't get much further before a deep roar shook the room, and the far wall exploded inward. A hulking creature that wore something vaguely like a diving suit charged in; the splicer fired a few rounds, but if they did any damage, the monster didn't notice.

The creature drew back its right arm, which was tipped with a large drill instead of a hand, and charged. The spinning drill punched through the splicer's chest and out his back; he then ripped the drill back out, grabbed the splicer by the face and slammed him into the glass in front of us.

"Get down!" Booker said, pulling me to the floor.

A moment later, the mangled remains of the splicer smashed through the glass. When we looked up again, the dozen lenses dotting the creature's helmet had gone from red to green, and it was cradling the Little Sister like she was its own. It then lumbered off; either it hadn't seen us, or it didn't consider us a threat.

"That's the Big Daddy," Atlas explained. "She gathers ADAM, he keeps her safe."

"Okay, great." I swallowed nervously. "I vote we try avoiding both of them."

"Seconded," Booker said, but he sounded tired. "But our luck sucks, so we'll probably have to deal with them eventually." He shook his head. "Come on, let's get moving."

We had to break down a gate, but we made our way to a large pavilion that connected to several different passages. One of them had a glowing neon sign that read 'Neptune's Bounty', which meant that we were close to Atlas' family.

As soon as we set foot in the pavilion, though, alarms began to blare, and splicers poured in from the level above us.

"I'll keep them distracted," Booker said calmly. Feathers shot out of his arms, which then turned into a flock of… birds? What? Regardless of how little sense that made, the birds swarmed a group of splicers. Those that weren't pecked to death died to bullets, or fell into the large fountain that I then electrocuted.

"It's Ryan!" Atlas shouted. "Goddamn Andrew Ryan, he's found us! Dammit!" There was a sound of grinding metal. "He's shut off access to Neptune… there's another way to get there—head to Medical! Just turn right and follow the signs! What are you waiting for? Go!"

Considering the number of different voices I heard shouting in the distance, running away seemed like the best option. Booker seemed to agree, because he didn't even hesitate. We tore down the hallway, only turning when we saw signs pointing to Medical.

"There's an hatch that will take you through a shortcut to Medical," Atlas said as we ran. "I can seal off the room long enough to bypass the security door, but be careful!"

I think Atlas had a different idea of what 'sealing off' meant, because as soon as we got to the room in question, a pair of flimsy metal fences popped up. Still, it was enough to let us catch our breath… for about ten seconds.

"Dude, I want a flatscreen that big," Booker muttered as a wall-sized TV slid down from a slot in the ceiling. It flickered to life, and the face of a man, the top half hidden by a fedora, appeared.

"So tell me, friend, which one of the bitches sent you?" The man's voice was condescending, but there was also a deep hatred behind it. "The KGB wolf? Or the CIA jackal? Here's the news: Rapture isn't some sunken ship for you to plunder, and Andrew Ryan isn't a giddy socialite who can be slapped around by government muscle. And with that, farewell, or dasvidania, whichever you prefer."

The image disappeared, not that we cared, because a mob of splicers began banging on the glass and gates. Thankfully, the large door opened behind us.

"I got it!" Atlas shouted. "Get out of there! Get out!"

We jumped into the passageway; the doors closed seconds before the splicers broke through. I took a deep breath and tried to stop my hands from shaking as we headed to the only other door in the area.

"Now you've met Andrew Ryan, the bloody King of Rapture. Take a second to breathe, and then find your way to Emergency Access."

"Yeah, not a bad idea," Booker said, and I think it was the first time he had completely agreed with anything that Atlas had suggested.

"Oh, and Booker?"

"What?"

"About that girl of yours… I think I found her."

Yeah, ending on a cliffhanger there. Sorry. However, just a heads up, the next chapter will not be Booker and Jack following the canon (expect that to diverge as time goes on, though). Instead, we're going to be looking at a bit of a side-story that will eventually link up with our current duo.

Also, I wanted to get this chapter out sooner, but, as I've said before, my book comes first. If you love stories with suspense, action—heck, even genetic manipulation and super-people—then check out my website. There's a link on my profile page, and I'm sure you'll enjoy my story!

Next Chapter: Elizabeth arrives in Rapture, and her adventure has an even rougher start than Booker's…

Welcome to Rapture, the world's fastest-growing pile of Muffins.