Little One (Bioshock)

chapter one.

JULY, 1960

She was dressed in rags. One shoe taken from her once soft and settle foot, hair torn up in a rat's nest. A few golden curls still tried to stay in place but it was all for not. Her hair would either be left alone or cut off, the knots too tangled to be brushed out. However it appeared that this woman didn't care about that anymore. Her bare foot slapped against the floor tiles without question. Even if broken glass dug its way into her flesh she didn't care. The only thing she cared about was two things; whatever her Spliced up mind could think about and ADAM... With her mind in total chaos, it was hard for her to actually get what she wanted. One minute she whined about her husband, who had cheated on her a few months after they came to Rapture. The poor gal couldn't remember that she Spliced up and killed her husband and his mistress years ago. A little after the war had started... everyone was on ADAM by then, why couldn't she?

The pale pink of her dress was stained in dry blood and dirt. It hit her knees every time she walked. What was she walking toward? The blonde couldn't exactly remember. She couldn't remember most things these days. All she knew is that she had to find her husband... the bastard, and make him hers again. She just had to convince him a little... with the revolver limply settled within her fingers. Her other hand was shoved into her mouth. Her teeth repeatedly bit into the chipped red nails. It kept her mind at ease for a little bit of time. This way she could focus on finding Thomas and getting him back.

"Thomas... honey? Are you in there?" She blindly called into a hall. The carpet had rotted and the walls were decaying. A body was stuck to the ground at the end of the hall, it's blood decorating the walls like a child's coloring page. Messy and scrambled, like eggs on a Sunday morning. She didn't seem to care about this, though. "Darling... I want you to come home... please, come back with me."

She didn't get an answer, and thus she turned to continue the search for her husband. It's what she did most days. Aside from killing the innocent and the sinful. As far as she was concerned, the women wanted her husband and the men wanted her. She wasn't theirs, and he wasn't theirs. They belonged to each other, forever and always. He was somewhere here in Rapture, and she wasn't half wrong. Thomas was in Rapture. His decayed body was left back in their home in Apollo Square. His dear wife couldn't handle the thought of him dead so she went crazy, Splicing up and turning into a monster. It's what happened to almost everyone. Anyone who didn't turn into Splicers either died from them or hid exceptionally well. They tried to get back to the surface. They didn't know they never were going to see the sun again. This was their resting place, their aquatic grave. The sooner they accepted this, the better.

The woman kept going. Looking and looking for something she'd never find until... she heard it. No, she heard her. The sweet angelic giggle of... a Little Sister. Stopping in her tracks, the blonde Splicer listened. She needed to make sure it was one of those brats. Most Splicers, particularly the females, would intimidate the little girl's voices to lure other Splicers in, and then kill them for their ADAM. She wouldn't fall for it again. The gash she had gotten last time would keep reminding her.

But it was unmistakably the little girl. The actual little girl with a baby face and demonic eyes. Deep inside her body rested the purest of ADAM in the whole world. The little girls could carry it in their bodies. It's what made them so desirable. Everyone wanted them.

She heard it again, the sickeningly sweet giggle of the girl. She beckoned someone from behind her on and then ran forward, possibly to a dead body where the ADAM was. It was only the girls who could obtain the crimson jelly from the dead bodies. Their genetic structure bonded perfectly with the parasite in their sunken bellies, unlike anyone else. The little girls were the key.

"Oh... it's an orphan. We gotta go get her, Tommy," she cooed to her dead lover however it could've well have been no one. Lowering her stance, the woman began to sneak her way beyond the wall, trying to get the upper hand on the child. Because of her sick mind she had no problem with murdering a girl in cold blood. The fact that she was a child didn't matter. It what was inside of her that mattered. "She's gonna die by herself... where's her Daddy at?"