The Lamb Of Columbia (Songbird) - BioShock Fan Fiction

Chapter 1 - {Prologue Part 1} Allow Me To Introduce SONGBIRD."

My first test flight had been most unsuccessful, I must say.

Well, not the first half. Fink had given the command, whistling on the music box, and automatically my body jumped off of the tower I was stood on and started to plummet to the floor. For some reason, I couldn't scream, or cry, or wail for help. I had no sound at all, as much as I wanted to. I just kept falling, soon to my death. Until then, my wings flapped, and I started to slow down my descent.

Oh, I understand. The more that you cut the air with my wings, the less you fall. I was starting to understand. The more I did it, the less the fall. Until, after enough flapping, I stopped falling completely.

I was... Gliding. It a most magnificent way, I flew across the morning dew-filled sky with little to no effort whatsoever. This wasn't normal because I am not a creature that is meant to fly. Wait, what creature AM I?

I thought hard on this overlapping question, but no matter how much concentration I put in, it was all for nought, it gave zero worthwhile results. Damn. How was I to know what my purpose is if I don't even know what I am?

I landed on a nearby clock tower that seemed higher than the rest of Columbia's mighty skyline. It had the flag displayed proudly, flapping lazily in the spring breeze. It looked elegant, almost as much as the sight and sound of my flight just a moment ago. My own eyesight was drastically improved; I could see the tiny bits of detail everywhere.

The tiny movements of the clock hands ticking slowly.

The chalk on the street below where children had drawn their own hopscotch grid to play on.

The slight patch of wetness on the flag that I mentioned earlier where last night's rain had showered the city in a light fall.

This new feeling that I had; rebirth. It was almost refreshing. That couldn't be the only two things that were different about me - the wings and the eyesight.

I pulled my hands closer to my face. Well, I say 'hands' but I really should say claws. Like a falcon's, they were! Only metallic, bronze that glowed in the morning gloom. They were sharp, sharper than the most razor-edged sword, sharper than the most pointed axe. These were true weapons of mass destruction. I must be careful to use these. Looking down, I also saw that my feet were also the same as my hands.

My reflection shone in these claws, and that was my true horror. More terrifying than the claws or the eyesight or the wings. More terrifying than the ideology that Columbia stood for. It was...

A bird's face.

Big, robotic, lifeless eyes stared intently at these claws. They were so black that they looked dead. And that beak... It could crack open a skull with just a small tap, I reckoned. There was a thin tube that ran from the tip of my beak to my neck too. I ran a claw down it, but reeled back in pain. That had effected my breaking. Best not to touch that.

C... A... G... E...

I heard the familiar tune call on the pipes. Fink wanted me to return. Over my own control, I let out a terrifying bird call that sounded like a squawk of death. It echoed past the buildings and through the windows, making walls groan and picture frames vibrate. Some of the nearby townspeople covered their heads and ducked down, afraid of an attack.

I smirked - if I even could do in my new body. I could tell that, no matter what my feelings were, that I wouldn't be the creature in the skies that they fear. Soon they'll cheer me on, calling for me to help, to save them from anything that could cause them harm. I would protect Columbia.

"Where is that damn bird? We can't have him roam the skies unattended!" I heard a voice say, sounding impatient and irritable. I recognised it to be one of my new masters; Jeremiah Fink. So my hearing was as improved as my sight. Fantastic!

"Jeremiah..." another voice whom I didn't recognise warned him. "I left you in charge of this, and if this has been a failure, this shan't end well for you..."

"Prophet Comstock, with all due respect-" Fink started, but was cut off rudely.

"Don't patronise me, Mr Fink. I need results and I need them now. Someone or... something... needs to protect my precious child in the tower. Now I don't care whether it's your stupid bird or you doing all-around-the-clock security, I promise that that SOMEONE will look after the Lamb..." the man that Fink called Prophet threatened him. I let out a small cry in outrage.

Jeremiah Fink was my newfound master! I wasn't about to just sit here and let someone threaten him this way!

I gave a huge push off from the clock tower, and pushed a few bricks off of the roof, which clattered to the floor, narrowly missing a few people going about their day. I started to fly fast, my wings cutting into the air and making me aerodynamic, a true fear of the sky. I remembered where Fink's tower was; Finkton. And when I got there, Finkton knew that I had arrived.

I smashed through Fink's office building, landing on the fluffy red carpet of his business quarters. I could see both men that I eavesdropped.

This Prophet Comstock was an elderly man; not what I had expected from his tone of voice. He wore a smart suit with mayoral robes over them, showing political significance. Who was he?

Nevertheless, I happened to be almost attacking him. My eyes coloured a deep red as lenses clicked over my dull back eyes. I swung my claws in his direction to cause a devastating blow, until Fink stopped me. He grabbed the pipes that he had used to summon me, and played the tune that he needed to control me.

CAGE... CAGE... CAGE... C... A... G... E...

He played a few times, to make sure I didn't maul the man. I stopped, the claws narrowly missing his face; just like the people who almost got hit by the roof tiles I pushed off of the clock tower. My eye lenses were retracted as the danger that I felt receded, turning my eyes back to the lifeless dark they were before. The Prophet, however, hadn't even flinched at my almost-attack. Was I not scary? Did I not instill fear in the hearts of those I opposed?

"I'm terribly sorry, Prophet. He's still getting used to himself. His oversensitive senses will be confusing him." Fink tried to explain, but he couldn't be more wrong. I bent my head awkwardly to show confusion and disagreement, but I was promptly ignored.

Comstock made a few weak steps to me, running a hand along the leather fabric that's covered all of my mechanics and... whatever lied underneath. I tried not to rile back; I hadn't actually felt that sense yet, touch. And it was strange, especially because a random bearded man was feeling me.

"Well, consider me surprised." he said, finally. "This is not what I anticipated when you said you had a bird to protect my dear sweet Elizabeth."

"I refuse to disappoint, Mr Comstock." Fink smirked, clearly happy with his reaction.

"Does it have a human in control? A brain of it's own, perhaps?" Comstock asked, letting go of me and bringing his attention back to Fink.

"Well, that is strictly confidential, Sir." he tapped his nose, his moustache raising with his grin. "Maybe I could have a fellow employee take you down to the laboratories and have a peek at his plans and construction after our meeting has adjourned?"

"That would be tremendous, thank you, Jeremiah." the Prophet smiled, turning back to me again. "And what is this magnificent beast called, my friend?"

"Prophet Zachary Hale Comstock, allow me to introduce SONGBIRD."