[Yay for Big Sisters.]

Sigh, need to a get a Beta in the Bioshock department. [Hinthint?]

Well Hello. ;D

[This is the first chapter.]

I pull back the weapon, sighing as he slumps to the floor, she brought him too me, dragging him behind her by her hooks and dumping him at my feet. She was crying.

"I can't do it," she sobbed, "I just can't. Kill him, kill him please."

And now here I am, wiping the blood from my needle against the wall and staring at the man below me. I feel it slipping into my brain, infecting and destroying the sanity that I have. I love the moments when I can stop and think and be disgusted with myself. Then the serum seeps into me and covers me in a hazy, heavy and damp blanket, turning the world black and white. The whispering starts in the back of my skull, forcing its way forward into my ear and onto my shoulder telling me to do this and kill that. Then I stop thinking all together, it doesn't tell me what to do, it wears me like a glove; using my defenceless body as a weapon.

In the end I am a crumpled mess sat in the corner watching them sneak past. Occasionally one would come too close and I would shove my needle through its body and spill its blood before it even had the chance to scream.

(Ihatethis.)

Now, now is one of those sane moments.

Drawing my heavy eyes back to the man below me, I take in his face. I want to torture myself with him.

I take in the way that his lips tugged down in a final terrified grimace, the way he is more human than all the others, less ADAM intake, obviously. He lies, crumpled, destroyed; he doesn't look like a strong man at all. How he survived this long I don't know. I can vaguely remember the madness of childhood. The clarity of the clean city before it fell to ruin. The way most would smile and Mommy would tell me not to go into to rough parts of the city because bad people were there.

There were bad people everywhere, even in the clean, shiny parts of the city where people would smile and call me a adorable little girl. Then when they took me away the same people that would call me adorable would try to break my little legs so that I couldn't escape whilst the ripped me open.

I guess I did escape, considering the fact that I'm still stood here, breathing in the blood and the grime of dystopia. Beautiful dystopia. I look out of the window next to me, I am in a corridor, windows lining one side, torn posters and ten years worth of abuse the other. Out of the window I'm met by a haze of rocks and decaying buildings; this city wasn't built to last on its own.

In the distance, I see a lumbering brute of a big daddy, dragging his prize between him. I see flickering lights and fighting and..

The familiar cloud settles over my brain as a voice begins to crackle out of the hidden speakers dotted around the city.

"Children" She whispers, lips practically pressed against her speakerphone, "Resistance must be crushed."

That's all, two lines.

I find myself standing, tearing my eyes from the man on the floor. Whilst I was staring aimlessly out of the window words had been smeared onto the wall above him and a book flung at his body. How did I not notice this? Nonbelievers are not welcome here.

I stalk out of the corridor, through a door, down stairs, up more stairs. I walk pasted a sobbing woman, mumbling about beauty. A male, that's what I assume it is, running its hands down the wall, "why couldn't I splice up normal?" it asks me in a childish voice. I hurry past. These Splicers tear at my heart. I find myself walking through, ugh, I don't even know. I don't even take in the patterns or the people anymore. I just walk and walk and walk all the way to pretty, pretty Prometheus. I could go fast, I could scrape and scream and kill but no, I walk slowly; taking my time. I will hold them all up, as my thoughts hold up the readers.

I'd rather die than kneel down to this bitch, but I don't want to end up like that guy earlier.

I want to live.

So badly.

I KNOW, I KNOW YOU'RE THINKING "Big Sister story? Wtf. Not again." BUT I PROMISE THAT THIS WILL BE SLIGHTLY LESS... Big Sisterish; if you know what I mean.

So apparently, people read this story. O:

I personally don't see the point behind reviews but.. Review? With a little bit of Creative Criticism or something.. (: