"The bottom of the ocean is the safest place to be." - My Sweet Unvalentine, New Years Day
"It feels like home under the surface." - Today I Saw The Whole World, Pierce The Veil
I found Mimi Tabor crawled up in the spot I left her, her eyes still stained de the crying she had done most likely constant since being under Cohen's control. I helped her up with my dirty, bloody stained hands, and helped her walk out of Fort Frolic as confidently as we could. We encountered less splicers if not none in the travelling back to the elevator to the lighthouse, as I had killed all of them. It seems to me that most splicers stuck to one stomping ground to terrorise.
After almost a day of the most intense struggling to walk of my life, we reached the bathysphere.
A part of me expected to just die - or kill myself - when we reached the lighthouse again. It had been a few weeks since I had seen it first, since I entered Rapture. But even when we did reach, my mind was empty for a plan.
"What do we do know?" Mimi had whined in fear. I had no reply for hours as we sat, staring into the midnight sky full of bright constellations. What would I know what to do? I had no answers.
I lost faith. For a day we sat staring, into the nothingness until every now and then, a fish of new and exciting origin would swim by our feet dangling into the Atlantic Ocean. For hours, we spoke zero, our tongues frozen to the roofs of our mouths trying to consume heat.
But after seven hours of this agonising wait for something we didn't know for, we talked. Mostly because we didn't wish for our last moments to be of pain, silence and suffering. Mimi told me of her life before Rapture; of what she remembered anyway. Of her family, friends, lovers, jobs, hobbies, everything. Her favourite places that she had visited. Her most private and beloved memories. Her ambitions and what she had wished to have achieved.
Last of all, how grateful she was of me saving her from Sander Cohen.
I spoke briefly of my life before Rapture: only that I had lived and worked on a farm with my parents. To be honest, I don't remember friends or lovers or hobbies. Maybe time spent in Rapture does that to you. Clearly not to Miss. Tabor, however.
I listened to her intently. She had such a beautiful, articulate voice, even if it was croaky and cracked. In fact, even with all the dirt, blood and bruises that covered her small, delicate body, she was still a sight to behold. For a the rest of the daylight hours, I enjoyed her stories, happy that her voice would be the last I ever hear.
But from nothing, a miracle occurred as midnight fell. A true miracle, sent from God, to help us.
A ship passing saw the lighthouse as it glimmered, and caught sight of us. Men were sent out with equipment to help us aboard. I'd never seen such a mass of people trying to help two strangers, and it inspired me beyond belief.
As we were brought aboard, we were cared for; our injuries tended to, our bellies filled with food, hot baths for us both and a clean set of clothes. I'd never felt so joyous that we had been saved, we were the only ones to have been saved from Rapture.
Ten years later and me and Mimi are married with two beautiful children. I could never have chosen to live my life with anyone else. We had shared the worst possible experience; Rapture survival. No one else could understand us.
We spoke of it very little, and only in no context. It is a story we do not wish to pass on to anyone, as Rapture should never be searched for, lest be found. The very city itself was a curse.
Sometimes I dream of Sander Cohen. Not a fearful nightmare that awakens me drenched in sweat, but a slightly fitful dream. I dream of him prancing around Fort Frolic before the ruin of Rapture, as an honest, hardworking, sane man. Of one full of ambition and happiness. And hopefully, he feels the same to this day. I just know - in my bones - that he is still alive.
The crew never asked us about why we had been stranded there. Not a single question. But now, if people ask, we say that we were the only survivors from the Atlantic Ocean crash in the 1960s. The truth was, we were the only survivors of Rapture, the underwater city.
YOU ARE READING
Little Moth (Sander Cohen) - BioShock Fan Fiction
Fanfiction"Cohen's an artist, says some. He's a Section Eight, says I. I've seen all types of cutthroats, freaks, and hard cases in my life, but Cohen, he's a real lunatic, a dyed-in-the-wool psychopath." This old fruit is not to be messed with... Sander Cohe...
