Little Moth (Sander Cohen) - BioShock Fan Fiction

Chapter 12 - "Return To Sander..."

"I walk a lonely road, the only one that I have ever known..." - Boulevard Of Broken Dreams, Green Day

Soon after Silas Cobb had given me the ADAM, he walked off in a trance, maybe even due to Sander. It was like he got a signal in his head to leave me be, and he signalled that same signal to the other splicers, who also obliged. Was it possible that Cohen's army had its own ranks that had leaders? No, maybe I am overthinking it. Splicers couldn't serve each other, only themselves and ultimately the artist himself. That was all this was, a play for Sander's entertainment.

All of them left, carrying small parts of the Big Sister's body. I didn't see any of them carrying a human girl, the insides of the her. What was controlling the body? Is it possible that after years of ADAM gathering, she was as mutated as a splicer herself? No, just like the idea of ranking in splicers, it was not correct. Little Sisters did not mutate, as far as my knowledge goes. They are the only living humans able to carry ADAM slugs in their bodies without becoming splicers. So where was her human body?

I have reason to believe that the splicers may have destroyed the Big Sister that much, or they could even have devoured her. I wouldn't have put it passed them, they are that vile. Either way, she wasn't alive anymore. The splicers carried away leg straps, a helmet, a dangerous blade, arm holders and large boots.

"So, what happens now? I've done all you asked of me." I said, pulling the radio near to my mouth so Cohen could hear me. He giggled maliciously at my comment.

"You make it sound as if you haven't enjoyed our collaboration, Little Moth. That upsets me to hear, because I really do like you. In another world maybe - far away from Rapture - we could be firm friends. But we do not live in that sort of world. To be honest, you have always struck me to be a doubter, yet a doubter with potential." he said slowly and seriously. "There is a difference."

"I see." I muttered, rolling my eyes. I had had just about enough of his little cooks for an entire lifetime. Art was not as important as other things; family, friends, laughter, for example. He stood in my way to these things, taunting me as if he was the one granting me them. I HATED IT. "Do you want me to return to Fort Frolic? Or will you just be kind enough to open the bathysphere now?"

Sander chuckled hoarsely: "Return to Fort Frolic, would you kindly..."

"Fine." I huffed, setting off back to the entertainment complex. I need a drink, something strong preferably. Maybe the artist himself would invite me into that less-than-cosy office of his again and pour me a scotch; maybe not. I think that I deserve it for all the labour I have done for him.

I wandered down the blood-stained corridors of Rapture once again. It was cold and lonely, just like me. Me, Jack Ryan, could relate to these dingy walls; I sighed. I whistled Jailhouse Rock as I walked, a song that I had been fond of before entering the dystopia of the sea. It made me feel better for a little while.

The doors of Fort Frolic were already open, and I could already imagine Cohen's open arms as he welcomed me back to his unentertaining-entertainment complex. Maybe he should consider opening the budget a little and getting a new lick of paint on the walls. I grinned; the idea of him and his splicer army rolling up their sleeves and painting around these bright neon signs was amusing. I would stay down here just to see that.

"Little Moth! Here I am!!" Sander shrieked, waving his arms with a flourish at the top of the stairs in the Atrium. I jumped out of my skin to see him. He giggled maliciously, jogging down the stairs towards me. Even his camp run was artistic, I must say.

"I see." mumbled I, running a hand through my dirty fringe. I hadn't had a shower in almost a month, and it was starting to show. Cohen however, seemed to clean regularly to apply more makeup, but that was only for his face, as his suit was as tatty as ever. He put a clammy hand on my shoulder.

"Now, Little Moth, you should see what you helped me make! Your sacrifices were for the artistic good! Your hard work was not for nought! I made sure of it!" he pointed towards that goddamn quadtych, and I gulped again, just like my first encounter with the horror.

This time, it had extra bodies on it. The Big Sister's body parts had been reassembled, and put in the position of a ballerinas pirouette. The Big Daddy was stood with its metal chest out, looking proud (well, as proud as a machination could look) and the Little Sister sat on top of his mask.

"The little one looks a little limp, I feel like it still needs more work. Trust me, I killed the stupid parasite who made he look un-majestic. Art requires sacrifice. But I know how amazing it will look when it is done, don't you agree?" the freak chimed, dancing lightly on his feet. I swallowed hard.

"Erm, yes, yes, it will look splendid when it is finished." I said, unsure.

"What do you mean, ERM?" Sander shrieked at me. I swallowed some bile that had climbed up my throat. What the hell had I done? The guy was unstable enough as it is! Here I am weaving doubt in his mind that I am not to be trusted! "What in the hell above does ERM mean? You doubt that my work is beautiful? How do you not see it as the art it is?!"

"I was just clearing my throat, God's honest truth, Sir!" I said politely, pleading for his forgiveness. I was terrified, and my widened-eye expression sure told him that. I was the little moth that he called me, staring at a fly swatter. Heavens above, I hated being called Little Moth, and I was almost pandering to the name at that moment.

"Oh, Little Moth..." he tutted, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "... It's such a shame, you know. I have warmed to you, and your work has been splendiferous, I must say. But I never pegged you as a doubter. You seemed interested in my work, and what I contribute to Rapture."

"Mr. Cohen, don't you see?" I begged for him to see sense. "Rapture is a crumbling dystopia! I wouldn't be surprised if it fell down now and we all drowned! If you come with me to find Ryan, we'll all get out together! We could leave this hellhole behind and return to the surface."

Sander strutted around for a moment, considering it. After a few long moments, he objected: "No, no, no, I couldn't. The ant colonies above don't accept genius as complex as mine. It's understandable of them, they are born and raised to be simple minded; to not be special or intelligent. That is why Rapture was erected from the sea floor, you know. To house the special people of mankind who are not fit for the surface."

"You don't understand what I mean!" I said, infuriated. "Yes, your genius is hard for people to interpret, but if you stay here, you will die. Ryan is trying to stop me by any means possible, and Atlas has told me that he plans to blow up Hephaestus and Inner Persephone... and possibly even Outer Persephone! With those major areas destroyed, activity in Arcadia will cease, and no oxygen will be created. Every living thing in here - including the splicers, Big Daddies, Little Sisters, Big Sisters and any possible survivors - will suffocate to death!"

"Then it will be a pleasure to die with my work, not off gallivanting in the worker's part of Rapture! I mean really, Hephaestus and Persephone? They are the sort of places where the people I came down here to avoid gather. I'm sorry, Little Moth, but it's a no from me." he giggled behind his mouldy glove.

"But, Sander Sir..." I started for the final time. "If I escape, I don't want to be haunted by the thought of you still being here alone. It's not good for a man's health, I fear. Your knowledge of Rapture is far more superior to mine. Your help would he valuable and appreciated, I promise you that."

I should have just left him there.

"NO, LITTLE MOTH!" he screamed at me. "I BELONG HERE, IN THE WOMB OF THE OCEAN! IF BABYLON DOES INDEED FALL, THEN I MUST FALL WITH IT! PEOPLE UP ABOVE WILL NOT ACCEPT ME, THEY WILL POKE AND PROD WITH THEIR BARBARIC WEAPONS AND DO AS THEY HAVE ALWAYS DONE; UNOBSERVE! However, you understand my nature well... SO YOU WILL STAY HERE AND BECOME PART OF MY SPLICER ARMY!"

He teleported away in a puff of purple smoke. I panicked. I forgot that he was technically a splicer; a Houdini, to be exact. I had never faced one on the same combat level as him.

He was going to attack me. I have to kill him.