Reborn [BioShock]

4: Operation

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I woke, surrounded by darkness.

I was laying down, my entire body bonded together. My lips tasted like blood and the air smelled strongly of seawater, dread lodged in my throat growing heavier.

Suddenly, a light flickered on in the corner of my eyesight and arguing voices filled the room.

"But what are we supposed to do?" a female voice said, irritated. "Let them get the living shit beaten out of them?"

A deep German voice responded. "He doesn't stand a chance. Give it a few minutes, Harris, it'll work out."

"Why can't we just take him ourselves? If we don't then the shit'll blow our whole bloody operation!" Harris cried.

"And how would he do that, exactly?"

"I don't know! Kill us, probably! How would we protect ourselves then, huh?"

The German seemed fed up as he flipped a switch, turning on a operating light that blinded me temporarily. As he loomed over me, I caught a glimpse of his expression. The man bore a massive gash running along his cheekbone and down over his mouth. His eyes were a cold blackish colour and his hair was a blond slick pulled off his forehead. "You're overreacting."

The women seemed to be rifling through a drawer somewhere. "C'mon, Allen! Just let Janet and I handle the bloke. You'll have your Adam and your ass."

Allen sighed, inquisitively poking my bubbly sleeve.

Harris walked over, her heels clicking in the silence. She looked down at my dress too, her eyes narrow and brown. Her dark auburn hair was pinned up over her head and drooping over her black arched brows. White powder was smudged all across her face and tinted pink on her lips, which bled from inside.

They looked at each other, arguing telepathically. After a moment, Allen sighed again and grunted. "Sure."

Harris nodded and sprinted out. Allen turned back to me broodingly and glared with black eyes. I froze, holding my breath and letting a stray lock of black hair fall over my eye. He looked at it quietly, reached over to brush it out of the way and tucked it behind my ear. He examinined my pigtails with faint satisfaction.

"You are a pretty thing," Allen observed calmly. "I'll make quite a profit out of you."

I clenched my fist, wishing Douglas was there to save me.

Allen scratched his chin in thought, brushing away some dried blood. "Yes. I see," he continued equally as calmly, as if noticing something knew about the situation. "You'll be the best little sister in the whole damn ocean."

He turned to his side, rifling through something. "But first," he declared. Looking back up at me, he smiled maliciously and revealed a pair of crusty scissors. "You need a bit of work."

Picking up a pigtail, he aimed the scissors with eyes that could murder. I almost screamed, but I didn't at that moment. Someone else did it for me.

A cry split the air, ricocheting around the room. Allen snapped his head up and looked upwards in the direction of the scream and stood there for a second, his mind churning. He then glanced back at me and ordered, "Don't move," in a tone that suggested he knew exactly how little the command would do. And then, of course, he sprinted out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I immediately sat up, stunned by the recent events of my life. I tried to stand, but my entire body was rocking and disoriented. Placing my foot on the floor, I slipped on a sloshing puddle of saltwater, narrowly catching the edge of the table. I couldn't find my crutch, but I decided I could find some kind of replacement later.

Turning around towards the exit, something glinted in the corner of my eye: the scissors, the rusted, bloodied scissors. I quickly grabbed them and continued to head hazily towards the closed door. I tried to pry it open, but it seemed to weigh a tonne. After tugging on it furiously for a moment, it came loose and I lugged it out of the way.

I began to head away from the shrieks emanating from one end of the hall. Thinking of Douglas, I weighed my options to see whether chasing after him was worth it. Then, I began to wonder why I wouldn't just stay in one safe place, rather than run around the halls of an underwater hellhole. My thoughts grew in complexity from this topic, and got so tangled up in them that I found myself turning around and hopping the other way for some unknown reason.

Rounding a corner, I saw a gathering of shadows splayed against a wall from the other side of a doorway. If I was going to put myself in the aim of a gun again, this would be a good place to start.

I leaned up against the edge of the doorway, glancing nervously in.

"Sure we can't discuss this?" Allen's German lilt said impatiently. He was standing against a wall, one palm outstretched and the other in his back pocket. In front of him, a heaving Douglas stood defiantly with his hand clenched around Harris's neck. Her body lied limply on the floor, and I heard her whimper softly and cough. Douglas sighed irritably, tightening his grip on Harris and forcing her to cry out.

Allen looked at the woman with some strange mix of emotions, curling his fingers around his belt loop. "How the hell did you get here, anyway?"

A bit of light glinted off Douglas's amber irises. "I thought it'd be pretty obvious. Especially to a man like you, who has so much Adam he could take out half of Rapture with one hand."

Allen smirked mockingly, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

"Oh, and speaking of one hand," Douglas continued, "I took care of your cute little soldier you sent after me. Janet, was it?" The corner of his lip turned up. "We even had a bit of a talk, her and I. How sweet." He chuckled quietly to himself.

Allen glared at him, grumbling with annoyance.

Harris grasped at the hand around her neck, vainly trying to pry it off. "Shit," she swore, glancing at the cut her captor's knife left on her hand.

Douglas looked at her. "Oh no no no no no, you won't be touching that," he teased darkly, causing her to give up.

Allen looked back and forth between them, presumably calculating his options. He was about to speak when he glanced a bit to close to the doorway I stood behind. "I'm not surprised," he mumbled in my direction.

Douglas followed his eyesight in confusion. When he saw me, his eyes lit up immediately before darkening again with a strange kind of disappointment. "Come here, Irvette."

I examined the figures looming before me, wanting nothing more than to abandon the situation.

"I said 'come here'," he growled.

I reluctantly complied.

Allen tried to ignore me, turning his attention back to Douglas. "You do realise that, one way or another, I'm going to get out of this." He pulled a hand from his pocket and held it up. His veins were a glowing gold and the tips of his fingers were bright red. I staggered back when I recognised what he was about to do. What was worse was that I was standing in an oily black puddle.

Douglas grabbed my wrist and squeezed it, his grip loosening slightly on Harris's neck.

Allen smiled, tilting his head at us. "Ah, what an idiot. Standing in a gas puddle before a man with a hand of fire. Now that, my friend, can only be found in Rapture."