Once Upon A Rapture Pt. 6

Once Upon a Rapture Pt.4

(Fair warning, this'll probably come out like a scene straight of Jekyll and Hyde. Nothing too bad, just ya know, Torbek lol)

The sounds of heels click-clacking across tile floor echoed as a young woman emerged from the depths of the Surgical Wing of Rapture's Medical Pavillion.

Her name was Clementine. She had long, braided blonde hair, in the form of a single long ponytail that trailed down the length of her back, and a simple white t-shirt with a somewhat faded dark blue skirt, as well as silky white stockings. Slung over one shoulder was her purse, which matched her skirt, and clutched in the hand of her other arm was a second bag, this one a plastic medical bag, full of her belongings.

She'd recently been discharged after a cosmetic surgery, curiosity of course of Rapture's top cosmetic surgeon, Dr. J.S. Steinman. She worked down in Siren Alley, specifically the Pink Pearl, and normally, unlike the girls down in Eve's Garden, she wasn't pressured to get cosmetic surgery.

Her boss, Daniel Wales, saw the value in having a wide variety of girls that could fit various niches, rather than an army of 'perfect' girls that all looked the same. She was tall and muscular, so she fit what he liked to call the 'lumberjack' mold. This time, however, was a special circumstance; she'd gotten injured during a visit from a particularly unpleasant client, leaving a bad bruise over part of her face and some damage to her right eye socket.

She was fine, but she wasn't in any condition to 'sell the merchandise' as it were, so off to Steinman she went. It was quite late, she'd been discharged basically in the middle of the night, so nobody else was around. Likely, the only person she'd run into at this hour was the nurse manning the front desk near the entrance, but she had a ways to walk until then. However, she wasn't quite as alone as she expected...

She went further, heels still click-clacking away, coming down decently wide hallway, some chairs sat about, likely for waiting as they were near some of the smaller offices, some of them tipped over but most of them still standing. She stopped in her walking however, as she saw a figure, sat hunched against one of the walls.

It was a very, very tall man, with unnaturally long limbs, covered by a ratty, moth-eaten blue blanket, his head hung low, dark brown hair growing thick all over his body like he was straight out of the Wolfman. He clearly heavily used ADAM; not just because of how gruesome his appearance was, but because of his occasional twitching and mumbling to himself.

He also had an overturned bowler hat beside him, within were a couple of quarters and a few nickels. She frowned as she stared upon the man, for two very different reasons; the first was out of pity, seeing the poor man, likely with barely even enough coin to get him upon the train, much less get him a hot meal.

The other however, was one of concern. The man seemed so familiar somehow; his demeanor was completely different, which was why she paused to ponder it at all. But he reminded her of the very client that'd gotten her stuck with that mad surgeon in the first place. Honestly, so many of her clients were mutated in some fashion, that she didn't find it too odd they'd started blurring together in her head.

She pushed the thoughts aside, for the moment at least, and walked up towards the man, her heels alerting him of her presence, his head lifting up. He watched her as she put two ten-dollar bills into his hat; it was a good chunk of her last paycheck, but she felt the man deserved it, in his terrible condition.

He smiled; his smile was just as horrific as the rest of him, but she did find her heart softening at how genuine the smile was despite that. "T-Thank you miss!" He declared, his voice hoarse and scratchy, but his tone just as genuine as his smile. She smiled back, bowing her head. "Ya welcome buddy." She was much calmer now, especially now that he'd spoken; she recalled her rough client having a cockney accent, so she must've indeed been mistaken.

"What's ya name?" She inquired, the man adjusting in his seat upon the floor slightly to meet her eyes better. "T-Torbek." She tilted her head. "Torbek? Huh, never heard that one before." She said with a soft chuckle, the man rubbing his arms shyly. "W-Well...T-Torbek's real name is T-Torrence Beck, but, people keep s-saying T-Torbek. So, T-Torbek says that now t-too."

She hummed, feeling worse for him the more he spoke; the way he constantly stuttered, the way he oddly talked in the third person. This man must've had one hell of a life down here in this dump. She did truly hope it got better for him, but right now, she had to get back to Siren Alley. Daniel knew she was being discharged tonight, so he'd start kicking up a fuss if she didn't get back to work.

"Well, I'm Clementine. I'm real sorry sugar, but I really gotta get goin'. Use those bucks well, ya hear?" She said, beaming another smile, Torbek maintaining his own, sharp, stained teeth visible past the mass of fur that covered his face. She gave him a curtsy, then continued on her way.

She kept on walking for some time, through the massive hospital, turning through corridors and occasionally stepping through one of the underwater tunnels that connected the different sections of the hospital. She was just a little while more of walking away from the entrance when she heard something; it sounded like some clacking against metal.

She turned around, looking around the stained and rusted walls of the hospital, eyes darting up and around. She didn't see anyone. She swore she heard something...but maybe something just fell off a table? She shook her head, and turned forward again, continuing to walk.

It didn't take long before she heard another clack, this time much closer to her. She jumped, startled, turning back around to look about frantically, but again saw no one. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down, this time not turning around but instead backing up, keeping an eye out to make sure no one snuck up on her.

That is until she bumped against something. It wasn't a wall, it wasn't a pillar...it was...some-one-. She could feel them breathing, her form frozen in terror, as a pair of long arms slowly uncloaked and came into view, and tightly wrapped around her.

"'Ello love."

A bloodcurdling shriek echoed through the empty metal hall, the nurse at the reception desk too far away to hear, the shriek only further muffled by the metal and water that lay between her and her only chance of salvation.

She was found hours later - or rather, what was left of her. Merely a near unrecognizable mass of blood and viscera, slashed apart violently by long, razor-sharp claws.

Made an Icebound bowl in the last pottery class I did, and it’s finally end of term so I can share it :)

I took some creative liberties with color choice of course, since I only had so many glaze colors to work with, but I tried to match it to the “Drakkar Calls” design.

i kinda liked how it look more pre-firing, since the colors were brighter, but unfortunately thats just how glaze is. but i do think the inside like, northern lights, only being able to be seen under bright lights/a flashlight adds a nice touch.

Once Upon a Rapture Pt.5

A private bathysphere quietly docked in Olympus Heights, an area of Rapture mostly used for housing, though there were shops and such as well. Specifically, the pair of Frost and Kremy made their way to Mercury Suites, containing high end residential suites for the wealthy and influential.

Kremy's living space was private, unknown to most beyond Gideon and Twig, he felt it was necessary when he had so much competition in his field, and while he did indeed want to help Frost, he didn't trust him enough to take him there. Besides, he'd already checked it over for any indication of where Gideon might've ended up and found nothing. So instead, they travelled to Frost's residence.

Frost was what one would likely expect of a scholar of his stature; an enormous library stacked high with rare and ancient books, so tall that one needed a ladder to ascend to the highest peak, while his actual living quarters were a simple bedroll tucked off in the corner, and from the messy state of his desk, it seemed most days he didn't even managed to -get- to the bed before passing out in a mound of books.

The section of the house reserved for Gricko and Hootsie however were much cozier, a blanket fort constructed in one corner, string lights hung from the ceiling, stickers and toys scattered all over the floor, and crayon drawings of various adorable scenes hung up on the walls. Drawings that once made Frost feel hopeful, but now he found it difficult to even look at them.

The pair investigated Gricko and Hootsie's section of the house, since all that was really of note in Frost's section was empty EVE hypos scattered about and page after page of nonsense equations and deduction, most of which he didn't even recall writing. Gricko searched around the bedroom area for the pair, while Kremy was nearby searching through a small bookshelf, which mostly contained children's books for Hootsie. It was clear from just a passing glance at the room the man had focused almost all of his attention on his daughter, very little within the entire area that related to himself.

As Kremy glided his fingers over the spines of the books, he hummed in thought. He'd been mulling over something in the back of his head most of the ride here but wasn't sure the best time to get into it. He shrugged, deciding it was best to just get it out of the way now.

"Hey, Frost?" Frost looked up, having been just about to look under Gricko's bed for any possible clues. "Yes?" He said, his eyes looking as tired as ever, but now held a faint glimmer of hope, even if it was a drop in a vast ocean of despair.

"Look fella, ah don't wanna be rude, and ah ain't tryin' to imply anythin'...but ya don't gotta be a genius to see the state ya in, and with how much ya been tellin' me ya've been splicin'...is there anythin' ah should be worryin' about?"

Frost paused for a moment, frowning deeply. It certainly wasn't that he couldn't think of anything; of course, Kremy already knew about the rabid researching and illogical thoughts, but he knew he meant something more...dangerous than that.

He took a deep breath and let it out as a somber sigh. "I...I don't handle, blood well." He said in an ashamed tone. Kremy tilted his head. "Like...how ya mean?" He said confused; at first, he thought he meant he was squeamish, but why would he say it like that? Frost huffed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I...like it, too much...okay? I don't know if it's because of the ADAM in it, or if it's something...much, much worse...but sometimes I...crave it, I suppose you'd say. On occasion, when I'd be r-reading by books, I'd...look down and see I'd been chewing a-at my own hand for God knows how long, without even realizing."

Kremy blinked twice at that. "...Yeah. Yeah, think that qualifies as ah problem, fella. Ah want ya to know, ah ain't gonna do anythin' rash, ah'll try to snap ya out of it first. But if I can't?" They stared at each other for a moment. He didn't really need to explain further, Frost understood, giving a somber little ghost of a smile. "I understand. It's okay."

Kremy nodded, looking back to the bookshelf. As he did, Frost looked down, lost in his own sorrowful thoughts for a long moment. He was so lost, it took him almost a minute to realize there was an audio diary at his feet. They were specially built and created to be...well, audio diaries, tape recorders but much more complex, even able to display a small, but detailed picture of the person that recorded it.

He picked it up, the glint of the metal catching Kremy's eye as he turned to look as Frost hit play on the tape.

The tape itself was bad enough, but Frost was further stunned by the picture the audio diary displayed; a stout, bearded Irish woman with a bloodthirsty expression plastered upon her face. He recognized that face from the papers, the Tribune speaking of a serial killer that had been brutally butchering people across the city, her calling card being the corpses all being crushed with modified Big Daddy boots. Of course, it being a lawless city, the Tribune couldn't do much more than warn people.

"He....was being...s-stalked?" Frost stammered finally, blinking rapidly as his heart pounded. "W-Why didn't he tell me? And...h-how didn't I notice?" He took a deep, shaky breath. "H-Have I already gone that mad? That I couldn't notice someone like that breaking into our house, over and over?" He started to hyperventilate, Kremy standing and moving over to him swiftly, gripping his shoulders.

"Come on fella, stay with me! This don't gotta be bad, okay?" Frost glared at him for a moment, breathing heavily. "A'ight yeah, ah know how that sounds, but let me explain! If this lady's been stalkin' this fella, then she must know where he ended up, right?" Frost processed that for a moment, wide eyes staring into Kremy's for a long moment. Finally, his breathing started to get under control again, still a bit shaky as he gripped himself tightly for support. "Y-Yeah..." He mumbled.

"So, we find this lady, and we find Gricko, right?" Frost shakily nodded, Kremy offering the most comforting smile a shady fella like him could manage. "Good. And don't ya worry bout findin' here. For a fella in my line of work? Findin' a shady lady like her'll be no problem, ah guarantee it."

Once Upon a Rapture

(I don't usually do full-blown fics for AU's, especially not human-based ones, but goddamnit this was too good an idea)

The metal floor of a long-abandoned, rust riddled hall creaked heavily under the weight of the creature that lumbered through it. A hulking monstrosity of metal and flesh, tanks hefted upon its back, with tubing running all throughout its body, and a diving suit fused to its very skin; what little was left of it, anyways. A Big Daddy, as the locals knew it, specifically a Rosie model, a rivet gun in one of its arms, that hung down by its legs, the chains wrapped tightly around each wrist producing a hideous grinding sound as they scrapped against the metal floor.

This is what became of prisoners in Rapture. In the old days, these men were enslaved to help construct and maintain the city, able to go beyond its glass walls and travel through the ocean itself. But now, they were enslaved to a different purpose, a purpose this beast was lumbering towards this very moment. Its slow, almost laborious motion came to a stop before a tall, slender vent upon one of the walls. In most cities, vents were little more than a means of way going through and the occasional rat, but here, they were home to one of the most important members of this society - at least, in regard to ADAM production, the drug that made the whole city run-round.

The Big Daddy rose a hefty metal fist and knocked twice upon the vent, the sound echoing throughout the hall. After a moment of silence, soft clunking from the depths of the vent were quickly followed by a pair of small feet swinging out from the darkness, the sight making the once yellow glow from the beast's helmet turn to green.

Out from the vent crawled a small girl, clad in a filthy green dress with a red and white checkered smock over it, the pocket of which she quickly retrieved a pair of large, circular glasses, which she put over her eyes, making her already glowing yellow eyes seem to burn even bright under the lenses. As well as the glowing eyes, she had corpse grey skin, and she held in one hand a metal needle, very clearly designed for the very purpose of being wielded by a small child, which had attached to it a baby bottle, ready to be filled with crimson liquid. She was a Little Sister, as the locals would know it, essentially drug mules, genetically engineered to gather and carry the wonder drug the city craved so desperately.

The girl looked up at the hulking beast and beamed a wide smile, stretching a bit with a soft yawn, then giggling. "Good morning daddy! Let's go to the fountain today!" She declared with a nod, turning around to begin skipping forward down the hall, humming a cheerful tune as the Big Daddy began to lumber along behind her. To the normal eye, this city was horrific, not just in terms of disrepair, but in terms of the depravity and insanity that muddled nearly every nook and cranny of its rusted streets; but to a Sister, the city was not only normal, it was beautiful! Glistening, just as it did at its highest.

The pair emerged from the hall into a much wider space, looking like at one time it was a bustling courtyard, full of hope and civilians of all shapes and sizes, the eager giggles of children and loving looks of couples, but now, was stained with blood and cracked, just as everything else. The girl happily skipped along towards the fountain in the very center, skipping right past a charred corpse and scattered bullet shells, likely from an old fight the previous day.

She climbed into the fountain and began to 'splash' about; the fountain was long since empty, but to a Sister's sight, it was in perfect condition, so she splashed about in the nonexistent water regardless, giggling and swaying her arms from side to side, still holding the needle tightly in one hand. Thankfully, the courtyard was clear of locals this morning, likely because they'd heard the lumbering sounds of a Big Daddy nearby; or they were so hopped up on ADAM they were all still asleep.

The Big Daddy simply stood near the fountain, keeping a close eye on her; beyond their Sister's, Big Daddy's held no other thoughts. He remembered nothing of his farmhouse, of his father, not even of the man he'd traveled down to this city with. None of that mattered now, all that mattered was being a father to his daughter. Nothing. Else.

After a bit of playing, lumbering from the heights of a nearby staircase signaled the arrival of a second Big Daddy, that gradually came into view as the steps creaked under him heavily. It was a different model of Big Daddy, dubbed a Bouncer, short and round in stature, upon one of its arms a large, blood-stained drill, and clutched protectively in the other was another Little Sister.

This Sister was clad in a pink, frilly dress, with ruffles at the bottom and at her sleeves, with a poofy mass of brown hair upon her head that hung over her shoulders, and the same corpse grey skin and glowing yellow eyes as the others - though her grey was a bit darker in tone, and her yellow eyes were wide all by themselves, without the need for magnification, peering out at the word with the inquisitive nature of an owl.

The Sister smiled brightly at the other pair, the girl in the fountain stopping in her splashing to look towards her and return the smile. "Can we play too?" The Sister clad in pink questioned eagerly, to which the Sister in green quickly nodded. "Yeah! Come on!" The Sister in pink squeaked excitedly, her Daddy gently letting her down, retrieving some crayons and paper from a small bag she'd attached around her Daddy's waist before rushing down the stairs with many a giggle.

From there the pair of Sister's spent most of the early morning sat in the fountain, doodling with their crayons and talking back and forth, their father's standing nearby in silence, simply watching, not even acknowledging each other. But that didn't matter.

All that mattered was that the Sister's were happy.

Once Upon a Rapture Pt. 2

A large neon sign softly flickered over a hidden nook in the depths of Skid Row. Topside, Skid Row could refer to any number of places, and in a technical sense, it could in Rapture as well, but in Rapture, Skid Row referred to the poorest area of the already poor Pauper's Drop.

Honestly, Pauper's Drop wasn't even built to hold anyone long term, just built to be simple flophouses for the crew that worked on the railway, but as the city grew more populated and the poorer folk were pushed 'out of sight', it became a little town in its own right.

The neon sign, lined in Hollywood-style lightbulbs and advertising jazz on either side, was for The Limbo Room, a small lounge which held lived jazz performances every night, and even served dinner at a remarkably cheap price.

Within, their top performer, Grace Holloway, stood at the microphone, singing a rather somber number about being 'down and out', as the man at the piano clunked away gently at key after key in tune with her graceful voice.

Being the poor, low-rate place it was, Pauper's Drop was an ideal location for crime of all kinds, any scam or snake oil scheme one could imagine. But for the first time in a very long time, the man sat in the back, with his purple silken top hat laying close by upon his table, nursing a rum in silence, wasn't thinking of any such thing.

His name was Kremy Lecroux, and he'd come down some time ago with his bodyguard and husband, Gideon Coal, to make use of his 'business skills'. Things had been going fine, amazing in fact, though admittedly there was quite a bit of competition, until Gid had found a sweet little ragamuffin simply called Twig, who had managed to run away from the Little Sisters Orphanage - a place that claimed to be a home for the unloved, but in reality, sold all of their held girls off to scientists.

Gideon quickly grew attached to the girl and took her in to live with them. Kremy was hesitant - not because he didn't like the girl, he loved her just as Gid did, but in this city, being in position of a little girl sadly painted a target on one's back. Everyone wanted ADAM, and to get ADAM, they needed Little Sisters, and to get Little Sisters, they needed little girls.

He hoped the fact most of the city was concerned with numerous other criminals rather than them would lessen the chance of Twig being taken, but in the end, she was. Kremy attempted to convince Gid not to do something stupid, but deep down he knew he would; and one day, he returned to their home to find a note left by Gideon.

'I'm leaving to find her. If I don't come back in a few days...I'm sorry. I just have to try. You'll be fine either way. I know you will."

He had indeed, not returned, and he'd seen or heard no sign of him since that letter. Part of him tried to push it aside; getting wrapped up in his emotions wouldn't bring Gid back, and he knew Gid wouldn't want him to give up. But he was finding it very hard to focus on any kind of work, and he kept finding himself looking across the table, expecting him to be there.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the front door swinging open rather harshly; even with the music playing, the lounge was small enough to hear it from this distance.

A thin, almost boney looking man with disheveled black and white hair and clad in a long, green scholar robe stumbled through the door and practically fell into one of the barstools, startling the people already sat at said bar, as well as the bartender herself.

This man never went by his real name anymore, simply going under the nickname 'Frost'. He'd been brought down to Rapture for his vast intellect, bringing alongside him his assistant Gricko and his daughter, who was lovingly nicknamed 'Hootsie'. At first, things went much as they went on the surface, cozily tucked away in a vast library, being supported ever-loyally by his assistant, and the man's daughter treating him like an uncle.

But he always craved more knowledge, and deep inside, never truly felt like he knew enough, and of course, in the beginning of ADAM's distribution, it's addictive and mutating nature were conveniently not addressed, so he began to splice, especially focusing on the Gene Tonic Brain Boost, and the Plasmid Telekinesis.

His mind opening farther than he could've ever imagined was a miracle at first, but he quickly found himself spiraling down wild trains of thought, pondering equations that no longer followed logic, and researching in a mad fever for an entire day straight, Gricko being about the only reason he still ate and drank properly.

All of that was terrible, but he perhaps could've made it through - if it wasn't for Hootsie's disappearance. Much like Twig, the mad doctors that worked tirelessly to keep ADAM production up and running snatched Hootsie the first chance they got, rapidly sending her father into a spiral of depression, before he too went off in search of his daughter, and hadn't been seen since.

Since then, lost in his own deep depression, he spliced even more than before, his once pure black hair now streaked with white, his cheeks sunken in and dark circles under his eyes, and hands that shook enough to struggle lifting the glass of water he received from the bartender to his lips. He knew he couldn't get either of them back, at least not on his own - if there was even anything to get back at this point - so all he had left was his mind and his ADAM...and he felt soon, with the wild thoughts that danced through his head, he wouldn't have his mind for much longer either.

Kremy eventually exited the lounge area, as Grace finished up her performance, the last twinkles of the piano fading as the small gathering before the stage clapped in approval, his gaze falling to the disheveled man, his frazzled black and white hair hiding most of his face as he rested his head against the counter. One of his eyes was barely visible amongst the hair, and it peered up to look at Kremy in return.

The pair stared at each other for a moment in silence, before Kremy frowned, and cleared his throat. "Ya alright there, fella?" Normally, he would've walked right past the man and gone on about his business, but since Gid's disappearance, the wall that normally stood sturdy around his heart had cracked quite a bit.

Frost grumbled softly, turning his head slightly so his face was more visible, now resting his cheek upon the counter rather than his nose. "No.." He said weakly. "But it doesn't matter. I'll likely be gone soon anyway. I doubt even my books will miss me."

Kremy's brow furrowed a bit, moving to sit beside the ragged fellow. "Hey, don't talk like that fella. What's wrong? Ah don't got anywhere to be tonight, ya can tell me." After a moment of thought, Frost shrugged, figuring there wasn't any harm in it; or even if there was, what did it matter?

So, Frost regaled his tale, and as he did, Kremy's heart sunk further, knowing how eerily similar it was to his own. At that particular moment, neither was sure what to do - but Kremy knew, he had to do something.

Once Upon a Rapture Pt.7

To most, the city of Rapture was hell; whether one loved that or hated that depended on the person, but that was the reality. However, there were some who saw heaven, in a variety of ways. Whether that was because of their lofty position, their fame, or just that they lived in a place currently untouched by the unfolding horrors-

One saw heaven clearer than any other however, the very same that were the most important in the entire city, the little girls that kept the wheels of Rapture turning. The girls that skipped through the gardens of heaven, in search of fallen angels. The Little Sisters.

One such Little Sister, a pudgy girl of curly brown hair that had mere months ago been safely tucked away in her father's apartment, now sat before a TV in a display window, surrounded by fake snow and mannequins dressed in fashionable winter coats, her legs crossed and leaning back, her needle tightly gripped in one hand.

She was watching her favorite show in the whole world, as colorful bears and beautiful butterflies fluttered across a rolling meadow upon the screen. Of course, in reality, the TV had long since stopped functioning, but for little Hootsie, a day never had to be sour ever again.

Her feet kicked back and forth as she sat, humming a cheerful tune to herself as she watched. She was visible, but that didn't scare her; her daddy was close by, ready to X the eyes of any mean monster that dared try and hurt her. Speaking of him, he heard a low, whale-like groan echo from the darkness of the empty store beyond the display. "Just a few poor minutes, daddy!" She called out, her sweet little voice warped by her affliction. Nobody else could understand her daddy, but she always knew -just- what he was saying.

She sat there for a bit, in serene peace, before suddenly, that peace was shattered; both figuratively and literally. The glass of the display window cracked, as a pair of hands suddenly slammed forth upon it. She yelped, scrambling backwards as she looked towards the monster. She saw a horrible, terrible tiger, fur matted and eyes wild, staring at her with a feverish intensity.

"HOOOOTSIEEE!" The tiger roared, smacking his hands once more against the window, spreading the cracks wider, looking like it'd break apart at any moment. She shrieked, scrambling back and out of the display, rushing as fast as she could do to her daddy, who stood by the store counter, quickly scooping her up and hefting her onto his back. His armor, stained with blood and rust, as well as colorfully decorated with crayon drawings of flowers and butterflies, held sturdy as ever, as he revved his drill in preperation.

With another slam the window burst open, shards of glass scattering all across the floor as the tiger barreled through, knocking aside the numerous mannequins. The tiger stood upon broken glass and fake snow, form shivering as he stared upon the metal monster with utter rage. "She is coming home NOW! I n-need HER!" He shouted, his voice manic and feral. Hootsie whimpered and ducked her head down, holding on tight to the tanks upon Mr. B's back as he let out a thunderous groan, launching his armored form forward with all his might into the tiger.

The impact knocked the tiger backward, his back pressed against the shattered glass on the floor and likely a rib or two broken, at least, but rather than scream out, he cackled; a wild, hyena-like cackle of desperation, his limbs flailing as he scrambled back to his feet, getting up just in time to avoid the drill that dove forth into the ground, breaking apart the tile floor of the shop in the process.

He rushed out of the door of the shop, the bell tinging as he exited, the Big Daddy barreling through it after him as he attempted to flee, the door flying off his hinges as his thunderous footsteps echoed. "Unzip him, daddy! UNZIP HIIIMMM!" Hootsie shrieked, the sound of her voice stopping the tiger in his tracks as he turned around, staring forward as if briefly knocked out of his delirious daze, stood still unfortunately long enough for the Big Daddy to smack him down to the ground with a hearty slam from his drill.

The tiger crumpled to the ground, curled up and staring up at the pair before him, Hootsie climbing up the tanks to stare down at him in turn. The Little Sister and the tiger simply stared at each other for a moment, his face contorting to one of horror and hopelessness. Her daddy revved his drill once more, as the Little Sister grinned devilishly. "We caught the tiger by the toe, daddy!" She said with a sadistic giggle. Tears fell down the tiger's eyes, as he uncurled and laid flat on his back, still staring up at the little girl, staying still, like a sacrifice laid upon an altar.

The Big Daddy didn't hesitate, shoving his spinning drill down into the tiger's gut, an eruption of rose petals filling the girl's altered sight as it made quick work of his midsection. She held her arms up as the petals fluttered down and covered her and her daddy, giggling. "Look at all the rosies, daddy!" She said, her daddy letting her off his back, standing before the body.

"And look! This one's just ripe, too!" She said with another giggle, kneeling down beside the corpse, a freshly fallen angel, shoving her needle deep into its side. Her daddy stood watch as her needle filled with the ADAM-rich blood, as she sang, her voice echoing across the metal walls of the shopping district.

"Eenie meenie minnie moo, catch a tiger by the toe, if he hollers let him go, eenie meenie minnie moo..." She continued to sing until the needle was full, standing back up as she greedily gulped down the ADAM, lowering it with a cough after a moment, and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

One of the most important things about sisters, and ADAM in general, was that each person's ADAM carried their memories, their skills, even their personality itself, the very essence of a person's soul consecrated down into the wonder-drug. As such, they were akin to living afterlives, any dead within the city finding their own personal hell, or heaven depending on their outlook, within the girl's mind.

She smiled at first, delighted to hear another angel's song echo in her ears; but the smile turned to a look of confusion rather quickly. Wait...who was that little girl in the angel's thoughts? Was that...her? Who was that stood beside the girl? Was that daddy? But...but that couldn't be daddy, where was his armor? Why weren't her eyes yellow? And why...why were they with...the angel?

She blinked slowly, the poor little girl baffled, even more so as a name came into her mind. She lowered her gaze to the angel, staring at intently.

"...Uncle Frost?"

(@rapture-record-blog @charlesclockmaker)

Once Upon a Rapture Pt.3

Puddles of gathered seawater splashed as a tiny green blur dashed towards a vast entrance. The entrance featured a ticket booth in the center, with turn-dial gates on either side of it, and a pair of towering nutcrackers framing it, peering down with wide smiles at the carnival-goers below.

Over top of the entrance was a large, colorful sign that read 'RAPTURE'S GRAND CARNIVAL', which was precisely the reason the Little Sister was so thrilled to enter, her daddy struggling to keep up behind her, his chains dragging through the water lazily as he lumbered along.

Beyond the entrance was a vast carnival, built intricately and with great love and detail precisely for the underwater city, with a towering, three-tiered Ferris wheel in the very center, that in its hay-day spun and chimed its merry tune, but now sat rusted and non-functioning, as still and lifeless as the carnival itself.

Of course, little Twig didn't mind, all she saw was a lavish carnival all to herself and her daddy, her little feet scampering towards one of the stands, jumping up and down in an attempt to see over her, before her father quickly scooped her up to lift her.

She beamed a wide smile, seeing a fresh custard pie sat cutely in the center of the stall, her leaning forward to scoop up from frosting with her finger and licked it off. She liked ADAM-laced blood the best, of course, but like most children, sweets were never turned down either.

From there, they moved to the other stands, the Sister eagerly scooping up a pig plushie from the selection of prizes and throwing balls at cans from the shoulders of her daddy. They were too busy having fun, and too focused on each other as well, to notice how odd it was that the stands all seemed so freshly tended to. A fresh pie, plushies not caked in dust and mold, the games restocked with baseballs and targets.

Once they were finished with the stands, the girl was not distracted long enough to register a familiarly enticing scent in the air, raising her head up and taking a deep breath, a wide smile gracing her features. "An angel, daddy! By the Ferris wheel! Come on, let's go, let's go!"

The pair quickly headed deeper into the carnival, coming before the hulking majesty that was said Ferris wheel. In front of it was a single corpse, the corpse of a young man clad in a faded 'staff' outfit, the way his body was crumpled and the dramatic splatter of blood around him indicating he had fallen from the very top of the structure.

The Big Daddy put the Sister down, letting her run towards the 'angel', as there was still only silence around them, beyond the faint sounds of carnival music coming from the ceiling's speakers. Unbeknownst to them, they were not alone at all...

As the Sister kneeled before the corpse and stuck her needle into its rotten flesh, beginning to extract it's ADAM-laced blood, a thin, colorful figure peered out from the mechanical depths of the Ferris wheel, his slender body contorted unnaturally to fit between the wires and crossbeams.

Soon enough, the clink-clink-clinking of hooks upon metal ringed out as the figure crawled from the mechanisms and landed dramatically before the Little Sister, mere inches away from her before the girl shrieked, falling onto her rear and scrambling backwards.

"Want a balloon, little girl?! AHAHAHAHAHAH!" The figure shrieked with a mad cackle, his scraggly blue hair peeking out from a blood-stained cone hat, the hat and his clown outfit white with blue polka dots, and of course also splattered with blood, hooks clung tightly in each gloved hand.

(Quick OC note, I personally recommend 'Step Right Up' from Killing Floor 2 for fight music for this battle scene)

The Big Daddy quickly rose its rivet gun and fired towards the clown, who nimbly dodged with a pair of back flips before jumping backwards and back onto the Ferris wheel, swiftly beginning to scramble back into its depths. Before the Big Daddy could rush forward, a loud groan of pain escaped it as fireballs were pelted down towards it, swinging its arms about in an attempt to fan away the flames.

The fireballs in question had come from high above, on the observation deck overlooking the Ferris wheel, a short, stout clown in jester-like attire beaming a wide, unnerving grin, the Big Daddy once again raising its rivet gun to fire, but the little clown had vanished in a puff of red just as quickly as he had appeared.

The little clown reappeared in another puff of red right in front of the still stunned girl, scooping her up and vanishing again in an instant, before her father even had time to catch his breath, the Big Daddy producing a loud, thunderous groan that rocketed the entire carnival as his Sister left his sight with a shriek.

He heard her shriek again however, though this shriek was much more distant and muffled, quickly rushing forward deeper into the carnival, following the sound. As he did, the slender clown emerged from the Ferris wheel once again and swiftly climbed up a nearby wall and onto the ceiling, following the beast.

The normally slow creature ran at near breakneck speed towards the shriek of his Sister, rushing down a hall that was lined with various, long-abandoned shops. Halfway down the hall, towards the security office at the very end, the Big Daddy, far too focused, was suddenly slammed into as hard as one could manage, smashing him hard against the wall and badly cracking away at the already moldy wood.

It was yet another clown, this one hulking in its musculature, its blue tailcoat coming up far too short down its back due to its increased height, a blue bowler hat barely clung to its massive head, curly strands of red hair dangling off the sides. It roared, slamming into him once again, but the Big Daddy returned with a roar of its own, throwing its arm back and swiftly forward again, swinging the sturdy chains around its wrist toward the splicer in a whipping motion, slashing across the splicer's chest with the sheer ferocity of it.

The Big Daddy turned back towards the door where he'd heard his Sister scream, rushing forward and slamming into it with all its might while the brute behind him was still dazed from the pain, fresh blood turning its white clown suit red.

The little clown was beyond the door, clutching onto Twig tightly, her constant struggling and kicking being the only thing that had spared her life thus far. The beast roared once again, whipping its chain forward yet again and connecting with the clown, this time, since the clown was so much smaller, flinging him up and backwards, smacking hard against the wall and sliding down with a blood splatter.

The Sister was scooped up and held close by her daddy, hugging onto him tightly and burrowing her face into his shoulder, as he stomped up to the small clown, who laid stunned but still alive on the floor, and slammed his metal boot -hard- against his skull. To the Sister, the little clown's life was ended in a burst of beautiful rose petals.

The brutish clown and the slender clown had retreated into the depths of the carnival, fearful of the beast's wrath, and left the pair alone once again, the girl rubbing tears away from her eyes as she pulled away from her daddy's shoulder to peer into the window of his helmet, the red light having turned to green as he peered back.

"Thank you, daddy. You always save me from the monsters."

(Holy crap, really went hard on this one XDDD)