Little One (Bioshock)

chapter four.

MARCH 16, 1959

It had been weeks since she last saw her. Mary laid on the floor of their cheap, crappy apartment and stared off into watery space. Her eyes were red and dried from the amounts of crying she had done since those men came and ripped her daughter from her arms. They didn't take anything else, didn't rummage through her cupboards for ADAM or EVE. They didn't even take the weapons Mary had for their protection. They only took the child. Just as fast as they barged into her life, they were gone. In the middle of the night. Or whatever night was down in the deep. It was all a blur, a blur Mary didn't care to straighten out. The only thing on her mind, for the rest of her days, would be her precious child.

-

FEBRUARY 19, 1959

They knocked her unconscious when they kidnapped Claire. She was fighting too much, screaming too loud for their comfort. One of those thuggish Splicers grumbled, "Someone shut tha' bitch up already." His orders were sent out. The only thing Mary remembers is the fear settled wide in her daughter's doe green eyes. Eyes that reminded her of the grass on the surface, the surface she missed to her very core.

She didn't know how long it had been when she awoke. Everything stayed the same down here. The small trail of crimson thread that leaked from the wound on her head wasn't that much. Mary let out a groan, closing her eyes but it only made matters worse for herself. The beating that rang around her head was too much to even think about. She reopened her eyes and slowly lifted her body off of the ground. She was laid in the living room. Why was she in the living room? With groggily eyes Mary slowly looked around trying to search for any indication of why she was in that room. The only thing she saw were crumpled blankets near the corner...

Oh, of course! Claire wanted to watch the sea as she fell asleep. It was relaxing to her. To just watch the fish swim freely. She wanted to get a book and look up the names of different fish she saw. Claire wanted to...

"Cl... claaaire...," Mary choked out. With a weak hand she reached out towards the blankets, searching for something that wasn't there. And then it all came rushing back. The banging on the door, the shotgun that alerted their arrival inside. Mary didn't even have time to grab Claire - they were so fast.

A gust of air escaped from her lungs as she made her way onto her feet, staggering into the wall. Everything felt foggy. That blur was still there but what was most important was finding Claire.

"Claaaaire," she moaned out again. The front door to their apartment was still wide open. Mary didn't notice if anything had been taken while she was out. In all honesty, she could care less. Lumbering forward she made it out into the hall, looking down both corridors for any sign of helpful life. Rapture's junkies meant nothing. She needed sane people. "Help..." It was a mousy, squeak of a call. Her head was pounding too much. "Help... me." She gulped the lump that had formed in her overly dry throat. It finally dawned on her that she needed some ADAM. It would heal her at a fast pace but now she was down a significant amount of the hall, and crawling her way back was not going to work.

She made her way down to the ground floor of the apartment building. It was clear, not a sign of people in sight. Mary lunged forward, barely able to catch herself as she fell, mumbling, "Where's my baby? Where's my baby?" No one listened. Or cared too.

The pain just kept coming, taunting her of death. She felt the blood leak out of her body like water. It was such a unique feeling. She could never describe it. "Claaaaire... Claaaire..."

Softly, she settled her head on the floor of the building. She closed her eyes and repeated her lost child's name over and over again. Until someone else's voice came into her head, loudly, "Why'sa little dolly like you laying half dead on tha' floor?" Someone prodded at her ribs. It didn't hurt. This could be someone to help. It seemed unlikely.