Topside Chronicles II: A Bioshock fanfic
I worked with the story a bit...so let's see where this takes us!
April 17, 1987
Los Angeles, California
The streets were nearly empty. Rain fell on the City of Angels. To most it was an annoyance, yet it still had some beauty to it. A few stray dogs could be seen running through the streets and in the subway.
It was the perfect day for death.
"Make sure it's loaded....we don't want him to live to see the sun."
A brown truck swirved around a corner. Inside were three men. Antonio Reyes, Alec Chesnov, and Peter Torres. All knew of the city....the city called Rapture. Alec checked his Revolver. Six rounds, it was clean. He was sure it wouldn't jam.
Alec nodded, "It's...perfect."
He offered a smile, showing his crooked, yellow teeth.
Rapture was supposed to be perfect. Instead, the man they trusted named Atlas didn't fix anything.....he just made things worse. They never touched ADAM...Peter tried it, but somehow he resisted the urge to use more.
The truck stopped in front of a ranch. It was an old home, but it looked nice. All three men got out. Antonio walked up the three steps leading to the door and knocked on the screen door.
Alec fiddled with the gun, aiming it, looking down the barrel. Finally, he had had enough. He stomped up the steps and shoved Antonio out of the way. He kicked the door and it broke into pieces. He ran in, knocking tables and chairs over. He smashed the TV and peered inside, looking for a tape.
A certain tape...one given to a man named Clifford Peterson by another man named Ferris Grant. Ferris knew about Rapture...He unfortunatly suffered a fatal heart attack in Chicago and was....put out of commision.
They searched the entire house except one room. Peter jiggled the handle leading to the room. It was locked. He rammed his elbow into the door, yet it didn't budge. He was about to try again, but he heard something in the other room.
A bang. A loud one...it couldn't have come from a pistol. Shortly after came a chk chk...it was a shotgun.
Nobody in the group had a shotgun.
Peter ran into the room to see Alec grasping his stomach, sitting against a wall corner. His skin had gone pale as blood slowly formed in a puddle around him. Antonio was slumped in a chair, a bruise on his forehead.
Now, a man in a tan Trenchcoat and fedora had a Shotgun aimed at Peter.
"Who are you, who sent you and why are you here?"
Chapter 2 coming soon!
Last edited by Seasick; 06-21-2011 at 10:40 PM.
You spelled fedora wrong. Lol, nice story. I like it.
"I-uh...I don't know what-" Peter began. He knew it was no use.
"Can it! I don't want any of your crap, now answer my questions or you'll join your friend there."
The man motioned to Alec, who was now near death.
"P-please sir! I-"
"You WHAT? You got yourself a family? You're a politician? You can set me up with a million bucks? Sorry, but though i'm alot of things, I know one of em' ain't stupid."
Peter had to be careful. He was one bad choice away from being blasted by a gun that could probably take down an elephant. For a moment, he looked into the man's eyes, the only feature on his face that he could see. They were cold, brutal, serious. He couldn't get a lie past him.
""Answer the question."
The man's fingers almost stroked the trigger, longing to apply the pressure that could end a life. Peter was frozen...he couldn't speak. His mouth opened, and only one word came out.
The man blinked. He lowered the barrel, but because of the large coat Peter couldn't tell if he was going to let him go or blow his guts out. Most likely the latter. Peter closed his eyes, but no blast came. No pain, no chills up the spine as if he was about to be sick.
After a long silence, the man finally spoke,
"I asked you a question I already knew the answer to. You're a thief, you were sent by someone tied to Rapture, and you want the tape."
Peter blinked. He was right on all three. Had the man been expecting this? Was this the 'dangerous Clifford who was packing heat and kills trespassers on sight'? He seemed like he was a decent fellow. He may have been Peter's friend if, well...He wasn't aiming a Shotgun at him.
He knew that the tape gave the whereabouts of Rapture, the danger of ADAM, what Splicers were, whatever. He didn't care. He was payed good money to get the tape...an extra thousand was in order of Cliff was whacked too.
But now, he was scared. He had the lower hand, a Colt tucked in a holster under his grey trench coat, and Cliff had the upper hand, a bloody pump-action shotgun.
Without warning, Clifford shot Peter's right knee, and instantly Peter hit the deck, screaming in pain, though the rain outside seemed to drown out his cries.
"Can't have you running away, now can we?", Clifford said, and just like that, Peter knew no more.
Chapter 3 coming soon.
Alright guys, i'm taking a small break...Real Life calls!
You're gonna want to get a mod to change the title of the thread, which is "Topdside" instead of "Topside".
Oh god! I just noticed that.
Originally Posted by themaster
Sorry for the long wait, but finally...here is Chapter 3!
Across the street, a man stood. He saw everything that occured. The men...HIS men going in, gunshots, death. He rubbed his gloved hand across his neatly-trimmed goatee, thinking. He moved his cigar from side to side in his mouth, the smoke blowing away in the strong winds. A storm was coming.
A large moving truck rounded a corner to the right, and the man saw his chance. As the truck passed, cracks appeared all over the man's body, revealing red light. In a split second the man vanished, re-appearing at Clifford's front door. He cautiously stepped inside, seeing Clifford crouched over an unconcious body. He looked up, suprised, then tried to grab his gun, only to find it in the man's hands.
The man hefted the gun over his shoulder, holding his right hands out to Clifford, speaking only two words,
The man spoke in a strange accent. Clifford couldn't tell if it was European, Southern American, Latina....His voice sounded strange. Suddenly the man put the gun back in both hands, and aimed it at Clifford.
"I advise that you do as I say, friend. I leave your home, you return to your happy little life with your televisions and your loud music...And i'll go back to my place, drink some scotch, and read the papers. Got it?"
Clifford nodded, hiding his smirk.
"Now get up, filth! Show me where the tape is. Now!"
Cliffford reluctantly lead the man to a locked door, pretending to have trouble finding the key, though he was also sweating bullets due to a shotgun aimed at his head.
"Well? Get it open!"
The man motioned his gun to the door...Clifford saw his chance.
Clifford reached his left hand over and gained a grip on the Shotgun's barrel, yanking it out of the man's grasp. He then put his right hand on the grip and rammed the butt of the gun into the man's face. The man stood for a second. He didn't even flinch. He looked at Clifford as a thin stream of blood traveled from his left nostril and began dripping on the hardwood floor. Suddenly, he pulled ff his glove, covering his left hand, and suddenly Clifford saw his hand. Where his veins were, an unnatural blue light flowed instead of the normal greenish blue.
The man put his hand on Clifford's shoulder, kicked the locked door down with his right leg, and somehow...Clifford was electrocuted. Clifford dropped, spasming as spit came out of his mouth, forming a pool at his face. The man got the recording, which was in the room, and strolled out of Clifford's house, his black trench coat flowing in the strengthening wind, his black leather glove which he had left magically floating into his jacket pocket, and his black striped fedora firmly on his head.
He vanished in a mysterious red mist.
Chapter 4 coming soon.
Last edited by Seasick; 07-22-2011 at 04:02 AM.
Since i'm bored and feel like writing, here's Chapter 4:
"We got him!"
"Get the IV out."
"Anesthetic is wearing off...he'll be all aware soon."
"Better get him back to his room, then."
He was moving. He heard voices.
"Yes, I personally prefer Bobby Darin to These new types of music."
"Yes, i'll get right on it."
"Mr. Boswell, this is Detective Harris."
"Can you tell us about what you saw?'
He stopped moving just as his vision started returning. He saw three figures standing over him. One on his left, one on his right, and one right in front of him. The two at his sides were women, the one in front of him was a man. The man looked at him.
"Well, Mr. Peterson, you seem to be alright."
Clifford blinked. His vision cleared a bit as he smiled at the doctor.
"Thanks, Doc...Wass your name?"
He blinked, finding he was slurring his speech.
"I am Doctor Alec Franz. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Alec spoke in a heavy german accent. He pulled down his mask, revealing a bushy brown moustache above his lip.
"So, Doc...what'd you take out this time?"
Alec blinked, then slowly responded,
"Nothing of the sort, sir. I put you on annesthetic to soothe the pain. You were electrocuted."
Behind Alec, there was a man in a brown turtle neck and some grey shorts. He walked into Clifford's room and sat down at his bed side. Alec and the two Women nodded and left. The man swung his feet back and forth, his feet covered in cracks, his toenails long and yelow, visible in his sandals. He turned to Clifford and smiled, showing his yellow teeth.
"I am Detective Daniel Gurt. I investigated the crime seen...AKA your house."
Clifford sneered, saying, "You got a badge?"
As a response, Daniel rached into his back pocket and pulled out his badge, showing it to Clifford.
"Here it is, Clifford."
It had an 'R' in the middle of it.
Daniel's breath smelled like a rotting animal. Daniel raised an eyebrow, Clifford realized he was making a face. Clifford went on,
"So, what happened?" Daniel said, resting his hands on his wrinkled knees.
"Came home and found three guys snoopin' around the place. I says to em, 'What are you doing here?' They says they were inspectors." Clifford snorted. "I pull out my gun, blow one in the chest, whack the other in the head. Then a third guy comes running out. We exchanged words, I shot him, and he's dead."
Clifford found it unproffesional that Daniel wasn't jotting notes down. Come to think of it, he wasn't really dressed professionally. He didn't look like a detective. Clifford sat up and looked Daniel right in his eyes.
"Who are you?"
Daniel grunted, "Already told you."
Clifford shook his head, "No you didn't." Daniel scowled, "YES...I DID!"
When Danial said 'did', he dissapeared in a strange mist, and a black hole opened below Clifford. He fell in, screaming.
Clifford opened his eyes and sat up, his heart thumping in his chest, sweat on his face. He glanced at the clock, then sighed in dissapointment.
Three AM...great. Clifford thought. He looked out a window to his left and saw a figure perched outside, on a roof of a smaller building, presumably the Theraputic Center, since in a window on one of the floors he saw a shelf with some red balls, some tricylcles, and a few board games on it. The figure looked at Clifford, it's brown eyes visible because of the light coming from a cigar hanging out of it's mouth. It dropped the cigar but the light didn't disappear. It was it's hand.
The figure stood up, forcing the light to disappear, and walked down the side of the building it was on, at about halfway down the cigar, which was still on the roof, lifted itself and flew into the person's pocket before they vanished in a cloud of red mist.
Chapter 5 coming soon. Please, tell me what you think so far and how I can improve the story. I appreciate criticism.
After some delay, here's Chapter Five:
Fresh air. Something Clifford hadn't smelt in some time. He was finally being let out of the hospital after a month of...'recovery'. Some shady characters kept visiting him, asking him things. One of them, A tall, muscular man had given him a strange package he had yet to open. He rolled down a ramp in his wheelchair and rounded a corner to his left.
Nobody... Clifford thought, as he looked around, indeed seeing nobody around him. He held pulled the package from a bag that hung off of the right side of the wheelchair. He shook it once, heard something move inside. He cautiously opened it, and his eyes widened slightly.
Inside was a hypodermic needle containing a strange light blue liquid. A tag hung off of it, saying 'Use Me!'. He dropped the Hypo on the Sidewalk, but it didn't break. There was something else....an envelope.
Clifford opened it, and read through it carefully.
"If you dig, the only thing you will find in pain.", Clifford read in a whisper to himself. He tore up the leter, letting little scraps fly away in the breeze. For some reason, he reached down and picked up the hypo, observing it for a second. He was stressed. He didn't know what to do. What did it matter? He took the needle and pushed it into his left arm, wincing a bit the pain. He then pushed down on the top...and screamed. His left arm jerked away from him, the Hypo flying out and landing in the bushes. He grabbed his left arm, trying to hold it still as a searing pain shot up his left shoulder. He cringed in pain but then....The searing pain turned into a cold feeling.
Clifford loosened his grip, calming down a bit, until an extreme cold shot into his hand. Clifford yelped, getting up and kicking the wheelchair backwards, into a busy road. He heard a car swerve and crash into another. His hand was starting to change color, as little bumps appeared on his palm, his fingers, even the back of his hand. Suddenly, the bumps grew painfully. Bloody spikes burst out of his hand. Clifford screamed, trying to calm himself when he heard a voice behind him.
"What'd you do to my car, man? You better have a real good explanation, man."
Clifford turned, hiding his left hand behind him as more spikes burst out of his arm. He winced, his eyes tearing, his mouth holding in screams of pain and terror.
The man was a young kid, wearing black sunglasses, a sweatervest, aome brown jeans, and some dress shoes.
"Yo! Tell me what this is all about."
Clifford looked at him, suddenly he just spoke without thinking,
"I'm s-s-s-sorry...I d-d-didn't m-m-main t-t-t-t-t-to c-c-cause any t-t-trouble."
He was stuttering. He was colder than he's ever been. The cold was everywhere now.
"I don't care. Give me your info. You'll be hearin' from my dad's lawyer, man."
Clifford reached for his wallet with his right hand, pulled it out, and made a vital mistake.
He pulled his left hand out to find his ID and whatnot.
The young man was getting impatient when it happened. He scowled, opened his mouth to yell, when a burst of ice shot from Clifford's left hand into his mouth, slowly freezing his throat.
The man panicked, trying to breath through his nose, but the ice engulfed his face, his face in panic, his mouth wide open. He struggled, falling to his knees, trying to breath as life slowly slipped from him. Clifford panicked and ran away right as he heard the man collapse to the ground. He was done with this. Done with Rapture. Done with it all.
That's what he thought until out of the corner of his eye, he saw he was being chased.
Chapter 6 coming soon.
Alright, here's Chapter 6:
A woman sat at a desk in the 3 story building she rented out. It was night, but the moonlight shone through a window, bringing light to the desk. The woman tapped her cigarette over an ashtray, looking over five puctures which were strewn across her desk. She pushed her jet black hair out of her face to see, and gasped in disbelief.
It was him. Clifford. She had been looking for this man ever since she went topside. She grinned, stretching out her face. ADAM flowed through her veins and into her face, causing the veins in her face to pop out partway, showing the green color. The woman slid the picture out of her way to find another picture of the 3 dead henchmen. She sighed, muttering "Stupid..." below her breath, when there was a knock at the door.
Whoever knocked didn't wait for the Woman's conformation that they could come in. A tall man walked in, sitting in a chair. His upper face was concealed by shadows. A short woman who wore an elaborate white dress with white high heels walked in after him. Under the desk, a green ball sprouted from his hand and he cassually tossed it at the woman who can in with him.
She blinked, her eyes flashed green, and then she spoke.
"Alright, Ms. Lamb. I think it's time we talked buisness."
Chapter 7 coming soon. Please, tell me what you think of the story and how I can improve.
Last edited by Seasick; 08-06-2011 at 11:49 AM.
Now! Here's Chapter 7
Clifford quickened his pace, nearly at a jog now. He had slowed after he was sure he had escaped what was most likely now a crime scene. The person behind him was a tall, skinny woman. She wore a knitted brown sweater with a white undershirt and a red tie. Despite her wearing high heels, she managed to keep up with Clifford.
Now Clifford was sprinting. He heard the footsteps behind him quicken again, almost to an impossible speed. Clifford turned to his left and ran down a long alley, but it was a dead end. The woman now stood in the alleyway, no weapon in sight. She slowly approached him and put both of her pale hands on his shoulders.
Clifford shoved her back, shouting,
"Get away from me! I have a gun, and I won't hesitate to shoot!"
The woman gave a small smile, then spoke in a german accent,
"I am sure you do, but I must warn you...you would not want to shoot me."
Clifford didn't actually have a gun, but he did have the ice power. He held out his icy hand with the spikes, which he now decided were icicles, in her direction, furrowing his brow.
The woman walked into the light, so that her face could be seen. She looked sad. Her face had scars and age spots all around them. Her lips were cracked. Her teeth caked in plaque. Her hair hung in grey strands down her face, a hint of blonde still in there somewhere. Her eyes were sad and red. Either she had been crying or hadn't gotten sleep. Possibly a combination of the two.
She sat on a closed dumpster, then she spoke again,
"My name is Brigid. Brigid Tenenbaum. Do not speak, as I know who you are. Clifford..."
She gave a cold, hollow chuckle.
"You know not what you have awoken."
"I don't care anymore. This Rapture? A fallen city of scientifiic advancement? A land free of government and religion? I at first thought it to good to be true. Then look what I get. Two broken windows, a broken door, electrocution, therapy, and a big fat hospital bill. I give up. I give up on Rap-"
Tenenbaum put a finger to my lips.
"Do not speak like a fool. What if I told you that we could give those down in that Lost City...a second chance?"
I had to say, I was mildly interested in what she had to say.
Tenenbaum nodded, then instead of talking, she grabbed my forearm and lead me out of the alley. she then flashed green, and the green spread to me. I had no time to gasp until I blacked out.
I blinked. I was in a large warehouse like place. There was a small table in the center of the room, with two chairs. A massive machine sat against a wall. A man stood in front of it, Tenenbaum at his side. I hesitated, then walked up to the man. He turned after I took three steps.
He was a large African American man with a neatly trimmed black beard. He gave a friendly smile,
He and I shook hands when I walked up.
"The name's Porter. We have a lot of work to do."
Chapter 8 coming soon
Thank you! You know, i'd hate to dissapoint you by delaying the next chapter, so i'll post it a day early!
Originally Posted by Vito_Lucente
Lamb leaned back, grinning. Her pearly white, pointed teeth showing. The man she grinned at was like a prophet to the people she knew. All dead. Her mother, her kidnapper, her nanny, her friend. All by her father's hand.
Her father. She missed the man in the physical sense, but she knew...she knew his blood ran in her veins. He guided her, he guarded her, and in a way he corrupted her.
"Speak.", Lamb said coldly. The girl in the dress left the room and picked up a suitcase in the hall, then came back in. She laid the suitcase on Lamb's desk and nodded.
"Open it, if you will."
Eleanor opened the suitcase and let out a single ''Ha!''. Inside was a picture of Brigid Tenenbaum and Charles Milton Porter standibng side by side in Times Square.
"They want to save Rapture...and the Splicers" the dressed woman said.
Eleanor frowned. Her voice changed from soft but threatning to a low growl. Eleanor's voice wasn't completly gone, but it was softer than the growling voice...like a Little Sister.
"Not a chance...those are my Splicers...that is MY madhouse now. And if you're lucky, Jack...."
Eleanor gestured to the man who looked up. This was the first time she'd seen his old face...ever. His eyes were sunken in. His face wrinkled. He wore a black bowler cap, some large glasses, and a red plaid shirt with brown pants, black dress shoes, and brown suspenders.
"If you're lucky...i'll take you along for the ride."
Jack nodded, allowing himself to smile a bit. The girl next to him spoke.
"We need money, Rapture's location, and plenty of manpower...can you provide, Ms. Lamb?"
"To answer your questions...I need time, The Clifford fellow, and yes."
Eleanor stood up, straightened her red tie which was clipped on to her black buisness suit, and went to a wardrobe. she opened it and pulled out an armored diving suit along with a long blade that would attach to her wrist, a container which attatched to the blade to drain ADAM, and an armored helmet.
"Now that I think about it..we shouldn't need much manpower...I have it already...Let's just start with Clifford..."
Chapter 9 coming soon.
Eleanor rode in the long limozine, sipping wine. A song boomed on the radio.
"Sweet Dreams are made of these.."
The limo stopped.
"Who am I to disagree?"
Eleanor grabbed a bag which she slung over her shoulder.
"I travel the world and the seven seas..."
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a Colt pistol
"Everybody's looking for something."
Safety off, loaded.
"Some of them want to use you"
Walking towards the entrance.
"Some of them want to get used by you."
The entrance was reached.
"Some of them want to abuse you."
She reached into the bag and pulled out an explosive, setting it on the door, activing a three second timer, and taking cover about 4 feet to the left of the explosive, back to the large garage door.
"Some of them want to be abused."
Clifford stood, amazed, as Porter explained what exactly ADAM was, what it did, and how Tenenbaum thought it could be cured. The machine, known as The Thinker Mark II was the key. It would help analyze data and come up with a more productive cure for...Splicers. All of the sudden, several gunshots were heard. Screams of agony, all male. Tenenbaum was quick to act. She locked the door leading to the Thinker's chamber and moved a couch in front of it.
And then the door exploded.
Chapter 10 coming soon.
By the way, i'd like to say that the song I used in this chapter is Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) by Eurythmics. If there is an issue, please PM me and I'll take the song out.
Tenenbaum was thrown foward. She saw Porter gather a handful of the vials and the Directions to Rapture. He ran out with Clifford. Behind her she saw a single person walk through the door.
Tenenbaum said, struggling to breath.
The person, who she knew was Eleanor, walked up to her and lifted her up to eye level with her by her hair.
"I'd thought Clifford would be perfect, but....I am thinking you'll work just as well."
Behind Eleanor, a large chair was wheeled in by two large men. Tenenbaum was forced into the chair, strapped in, and then she was hit in the head. Knocked out.
Tenenbaum slipped in and out reality. Her skin hurt. She was in an armored suit. Her vision was blurry. An IV was in her left arm. On her right was a long blade sticking out of the top of her hand. She struggled a bit, and then she saw Eleanor, who wore an evil grin.
"Well, well, well....The mastermind of this 'Project Rebirth' now struggles, tied to a chair...."
Eleanor waved a scrawny man over, who injected a hypo into Eleanor's left arm. She grunted a few times, then grinned as her veins in her left hand glowed a bright green. Her palm split open and a green ball popped out, leaking green fluids. Eleanor took the IV tube and squeezed the ball, letting a stream of the green juices pour into the tube. It shot into Tenenbaum'ss veins. Tenenbaum screamed the one word she could think of before she passed out.
Chapter 11 coming soon.
"Stay down." Porter said to Clifford in a harsh town, whilst sprawled out on the warehouse floor, crawling towards a metal locker. Clifford followed slowly on his elbows and knees, barely staying hidden. Suddenly, a Splicer weilding a pump action shotgun walked up to the locker, seeming to stop for a moment, mumbling to himself.
His face was only a piece of meat, his eyes unrecognizable, his nose bruised and twisted, and his mouth tilted at a slant, the teeth inside brown and rotting. Porter stopped in his tracks, then slowly peeked over the large rctangular crate they had been hiding behind, before slowly ducking down again, an intense look in his eye.
"Twelve" he said, looking at Clifford.
"Twelve?" Clifford replied, not getting what Porter meant, exactly.
"There a Twelve. Twelve Splicers...three got only pipes and wrenches, the rest have AK-47s and Pump action shotguns."
The Splicer that had been at the locker growled, spitting blood onto the floor, before lumbering back over to his comrades, muttering a wide range of swears.
"Scratch that, thirteen..." Porter said with a quiet chuckle, before moving foward to the locker again, making sure to avoid the mixture of blood and mucus that had been spat on the floor. He kept his crouching position as he quickly reached up to the locker's handle, and gave it a tug.
The locker opened with a loud banging sound, and all all thirteen Splicers shouted in suprise, before mumbling to themselves. Seconds later, a scrawny Woman that looked sort of like Tenenbaum but with darker skin, an eyepatch, one ear, and large, throbbing pink lumps on her neck, arms, and legs came strutting over, shouting loudly,
"HELLO?!? MR. COSWELL?!?" Before sobbing and babbling about her children and something called Delta.
The footsteps grew louder and so did the voice.
"That promotion...it was mine! I WAS THE BEST IN RAPTURE!!!"
The footsteps stopped right in front of the crate, and as the beautiful sounding female peered over the crate, Clifford caught a scream in his throat. The Woman's small nose was caked in scabs with snot running down her nostrils, drying around her chin. The tears she cried were made with blood, and two blotches sat below her eyes, obviously dried. As she cried, the tears wet the blood, making bloody tears. Porter sighed, reaching up just as a bloody tear escaped her left eye, landing on Clifford's nose.
Porter grabbed the Woman by the throat, hurling her over to their side of the crate. She had only time to gasp before she slammed against the concrete wall and fell limp. Porter then ran to the locker and grabbed two M1 Garands, popular rifles from World War 2.
Porter tossed one to Clifford and kept one for himself, then he put his back to the crate and motioned for Clifford to do the same. Clifford did, and just as he back touched the wall a pistol from somewhere in the room was fired. A bullet whized over Cliffords head and hit the wall.
"SHOOT!" Porter yelled as more Splicers fired their guns.
Clifford hesitated, then popped up and fired three shots at a nearby splicer, who was trying to reload her gun with one arm by awkardly positioning the gun on her left knee. She staggered backwards, seeming unaffected, then she just fell.....just fell flat on her face. A Splicer in the back of the room looked up and saw her fall. He shouted something unintelligable, then lumbered closer and closer to Clifford and Porter. It was the Splicer from before! Before Clifford could say anything, Porter fired twice and the lumbering Splicer went down with a thud. The rest of the Splicers revealed themselves, firing more. Clifford was hit twice in the theigh and right ring finger, but somehow he kept firing, and eventually the Splicers were all dead. Some on the floor, some on boxes, all dead.
"Well.." said Porter, dropping his gun.
Clifford dropped his gun as well.
"Moving on." Porter said.
And then the two men just walked out.
Chapter 12 coming soon.
"You're just going to...to keep walking?" Clifford said, feeling as if he may vomit any moment.
"Yeah, why?" Porter said, turning to him.
"We...we just...just..." Clifford began, growing angry. Porter simply stared at him, a faint smile on his face.
Then Clifford started.
"You just killed like, FIVE PEOPLE!"
"Well, you shot some too."
"YOU WERE THE ONE THAT PULLED OUT THE GUNS!"
"Well, never the less, you used them."
"WELL, WHAT OTHER CHOICE DID I HAVE?!?"
"You just contridicted your statements."
"I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE I AM!"
"New York City."
"WHAT?!? YOU...YOU WHAT?!? YOU AND THAT GERMAN LADY DRAGGED ME TO NEW YORK?!? WHY???"
Porter coughed. "Tenenbaum."
"I DON'T CARE! NOW IF YOU DON'T GIVE ME A BIG FAT EXPLENATION RIGHT NOW, I'LL.....I'LL.....!"
Clifford blinked. He had failed to notice a small crowd had gathered around Porter and him, murmering amongst themselves. He stuttered, took a step back, a step foward, and blinked slowly. He looked down, and saw a dart sticking out of his stomach. Looking up, he saw Porter showing the crowd something small, then walking towards Clifford, and then the sky, the clouds, the noises, the large buildings, all dissapeared into the blackness.
Eleanor paced in front of Tenenbaum, who was now standing upright in an armored suit, missing it's helmet. Her eyes glowed a faint green. Eleanor grinned. This was her best weapon yet. Fully armored, not like her outfit. The blade on her wrist strudier, lighter, smoother, deadlier.
"Well, Tenenbaum..." Eleanor began. Immediatly Tenenbaum glanced up, not saying a word.
"Tell me...where is Rapture?"
Tenenbaum blinked, then replied, "63°2' N, 29° 55' W...or four hundred and thirty three kilometers west of Iceland's Capitol, Reykjavik."
Eleanor smiled coldly. She had expected results but this was....this wasperfect! She asked another question.
"What is the origin of ADAM?"
Tenenbaum took a breath and replied.
"ADAM: A substance from a Sea Slug discovered by Brigid Tenenbaum, scientist of German origin. Said substance alters the genetic code to give Humans abilities such as Telekenisis and the ability to light a fire by snapping your fingers."
Eleanor smiled coldly.
Tenenbaum's eyes widened.
"Find Charles M. Porter and Clifford Peterson."
And within the blink of an eye, Tenenbaum was gone.
Chapter 13 coming soon.
After a LONG break, here's Chapter 13!
Edit: Idk why that posted, writing chapter 13 now XD
Clifford awoke on a hardwood floor, slumped against a refrigerator. He blinked. There was a plugged in radio next to a sink to his right, playing some Bob Dylan song. Clifford couldn't tell the difference, to him all his songs sounded the same, just like Little Richard. Clifford got up and smelled the air. Needless to say, it smelled like an animal had died in the room next to about two dozen rotten eggs and a week old glass of milk that was all being pressed up into Clifford's nose.
After exercising his right to begin dry heaving, Clifford raced up the nerve to get on his feet. He had gotten up to fast and felt dizzy, but the feeling turned from panic to anger as he saw Porter crouched over some old files, left hand scratching his goatee in ponder. As Clifford attempted to storm up to Porter and hit him in the face, he fell on the floor. Porter looked up casually, smirking.
"Well, glad to see you decided to join me in the realm of the living."
Porter's face turned red in anger as he looked up,
"Where are we? Tell me or I swear i'm going to beat you to death with...uhh....."
Clifford grabbed an old spoon sitting on a table. it was old and rusted, on the verge of falling apart.
"THIS SPOON! FEAR THE SPOON!"
Porter chuckled before his faced grew grim. He lifted up his hand and in a waving motion, the spoon flew out of Clifford's hand and into Porter's who proceeded to crush it into tiny metallic pieces without even breaking a sweat. Clifford grunted,
"I see, you're one of them, is that it?"
Porter smiled in what must pass for a response, until after about two seconds he said,
"Not at all. I've never chose to Splice....Others made that choice for me.We can talk of it later, now I have explaining to do. Not long ago, there was a man who lived here. His name is usually held from all who have never seen Rapture, but-"
"Wait, wait, wait..." Clifford interrupted,
"You're telling me there are MORE of you?"
"Our base of operations is here, though some have fled us in favor of a normal private life. Understandable yet pitiful. They have no feeling for the failed Utopia they once called home."
Before Porter could continue, the apartment door opened. It just....opened. Immediately Porter reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a large pistol. It was a shiny silver color, and it looked like nothing Clifford had ever seen. Before anything could be done, Porter's gun snapped in half. Porter cursed, then suddenly, a woman appeared in the doorway. She was tall and lean and wore a diving suit and sphere helmet. There was a belt around her chest, and about 10 Frag Grenades were attached to it.
Porter reached down into his shoe and surprisingly pulled out another fully loaded pistol, but not before the Woman got another attack in. She picked up a ruined sofa with her mind and hurled it at Clifford, who dodged just in time to see it smash violently into the fridge, spilling old Sods bottles and food all over the floor. Porter was in it's path, and he did a roll just in time, firing three shots at the woman's head. All bullet slowed and stopped right before hitting her, simply hovering in front of her. One dropped to the floor, then a five second pause.
Clifford had just gotten up from his sofa dodge when he felt an intense pain in his right leg. He yelled in pain just in time to hear Porter collide with the Woman, and to hear the sound of them wrestling on the floor, and the third bullet drop to the floor, joining the first. By the sound of things, Porter had been stabbed with something, the Woman had been kicked in the stomach area, and Porter attempted to pull out a third gun which had been snapped in half just like his first, then another snap, indicating his second gun was history as well. Clifford attempted to crawl and attempt to do anything, when he remembered. He had the Ice power!
"Alright..." Clifford said, encouraging himself, "Slowly...." He was just about to be in view....There! Porter had managed to get the Woman's back to a wall, and had pulled out a knife. He kneed the Woman in the gut, who had bent over in pain, then made a clean slice, effectively chopping off her head. Porter kicked her in the gut as hard as he could with his right leg, and she had soared through a window just as Clifford had hit her with Winter Blast, freezing her entire body. It was, in a strange way, a thing of beauty.
A few seconds passed, as the air whistled through the broken window, then a sound like breaking glass. Porter let out a "Ha...". The Woman was now all but a number of pieces of ice on a bustling New York street or sidewalk.
Porter fell against a wall, his left hand over his stomach. He had been stabbed there. He gasped for air, then went into a coughing fit, then his head slumped and he fell silent, he breathed heavily, then coughed once more. He moved towards the helmet and grabbed it with both hands,
"Now, let's see who was sent to try us...."
He shook it, and with some resistance, a head fell out. Time stopped. Everything was frozen as Porter's cries of pain, terror, and sadness, were drowned out by white noise.
It was Tenenbaum.
Chapter 14 coming soon.
Last edited by Seasick; 10-13-2011 at 04:35 PM.
"NO!" Porter cried. "WHAT HAS SHE DONE TO YOU!?!" he got up with a grunt of effort.
Meanwhile, Clifford laid still on the ground, just trying to breath. Was his injured? He didn't know. He just listened to the radio, an old Ray Charles song was on now. By the sounds of it, it was Mess Around. Clifford smiled. A trail of blood trickled over her left eye. He blinked and sat up too quickly. Immediately he felt his forehead. It was just a scratch.
A knock came at the door.
"NYPD, open up."
The voice was Male, scratchy, and old. Barely two seconds of total silence passed before the door busted open again. Two Splicers walked in. They were just Brutes. After them entered a tall woman with pale yellow skin. Her eyes had a yellow tint to them and her black, greying hair hung down into her face and down her back, reaching her mid-torso. Her lips were cracked and grey, and her mouth was dried.
"Eleanor Lamb, Pleasure."
While she said this, Porter had kinetically picked up the radio, shutting off a Tears for Fears song in the process, and hurling it at Eleanor, who simply deflected it with her mind, tossing it out the window. After this, Eleanor pulled out a golden Revolver and fired it at Porter, who caught a bullet in the chest, right above where he was stabbed. He grunted and fell to the ground, breathing heavily.
At this, Eleanor looked to the Muscular Splicer to her left and said in a dark, gravelly, low voice, "Search the place.", then looked to the right and said, "Watch our guests." Both Splicers hastily followed commands. Eleanor walked up to Clifford and squatted down.
"Got you..." she said, when a yell was heard.
"I found somethin'!"
Eleanor grunted, "I'll be back" she said before storming off. A big, ugly Brute took her place. His face was so disfigured you wondered if he could even see. His mouth was closed and the skin from his lips had fused on one side. He pickedup Clifford and without a word walked to Porter and lazily dropped Clifford next to him.
Porter weakly looked at Clifford. He attempted to get up, but was kicked by the Brute. He let out a cry of pain. He looked at Cliffod and winked. He had a plan. He reached into his coat pocket and pushed a button on a walkie talkie device.
The man heard the beeping. Ever since he left Rapture he'd just wanted to stay away. Live a normal life. Now he sat in his filthy apartment at his small Dining Room table. If he pushed the button on the device, he knew what would happen.
He sighed. He was older now. He couldn't aim as well as he could back in Rapture. Then again, that was where he was now. An old man, veteran of an Underwater Civil War, living in a filthy apartment. He reached over the table, grabbed the device, pushed the button, and said into the speaker of the device,
"Ivan Karlosky Reporting In."
Tenenbaum didn't hear it. Her mind was clouded. Clouded with an invisible war against the plasmids inside her. The thing they sent was not her. She thought ahead. She had been stupid, though. She saw Porter through the window of the Apartment. She couldn't move. She was stuck. She wanted to get the Brute away from him, help him fight Eleanor, but she could not. She took the beeping device out with utmost care, rubbed her thumb over it, then dropped it into the streets below.
Chapter 15 coming soon.
Chapter 15 !
The Woman stood on the dock in Iceland looking out at the Ocean, tears dropping down her face, making a pitter patter sound on the wood floor. In her arm the held a doll that she made long ago, by herself. She was in a White dress which had turned a filthy grey over the years, when the device in her hand began to beep. She sighed, as she knew this would come.
She pushed the button down and spoke into the Speaker,
"Masha Lutz reporting in."
Elaine sat, busily doing taxes. She had fallen into a deep depression after she came to the surface. She sighed, when the device she had gotten in the mail about a week ago started buzzing. Sophie, her daughter walked into the room in a pink dress, giving a quick twirl before she noticed the buzzing device on the table.
"What's that?" she said in confusion. Elaine looked up, giving a brief smile. She barely did that. She grabbed the device. On the side of it was the letter 'R'. She gasped. Rapture! she thought in her mind. Then she saw the piece of paper next to it. She read the message.
"Rapture Falls! Push the red button and speak clearly, "Elaine and Sophie McDonagh reporting in. Rapture will fall!"
Elaine hesitated. She didn't want more Rapture. She didn't want to drag Sophie into this. They both already were seeing Psychiatrists, Psychologists, it was terrible. But before Elaine could say anything, Sophie grabbed the device and held down the button.
"Elaine and Sophie McDonagh, Reporting in."
Elaine gasped. "Sophie! Have you any idea what you've just done to us?"
Sophie's face turned grim.
"Rapture killed Father, so Rapture must fall."
Porter grunted. He was going to die if he wasn't helped.
He was kicked in the stomach again.
Clifford didn't know what he meant. Porter was going to die, though! He had to try something....
Clifford grunted as both arms and hands turned to diamond hard ice. The ice spread all over his chest, his head, his legs....The Brute, who was too busy killing Porter by kicking him noticed Clifford.
Clifford started to glow a bright blue. Porter started crawling back, and the Brute turned to him. "Oi!"...Just then, Clifford realized it wasn't the same Brute. There was a pistol aimed at his head.
Just as she began to pull the trigger, Clifford released the ice and Porter yelled, the Brutes charged at both of them, and two more people entered the room.
"Get him water! NOW!"
"He's coming to!"
A bright light poured into Clifford's eyes as he opened. them. Several masked men stood around him.
"You made it...take a deep breath."
"Give him some air, this must be startling for him."
"Where am I? Where's Porter? PORTER! POOORTEEERRR!"
A man injected Clifford with something.
"You're safe now...breathe in, breathe out...breathe in...breathe out. Good." He felt the needle leave him.
"You're in a very special place in Miami. We've been trying to help you and your friends for a very long time."
Clifford choked out, "How long?"
To which the Doctor responded,
"Twenty Four Years."
Las Vegas, Nevada, 2011
(Didn't know why it posted...writing now.)
Victor McNamara sat on the red stool, wasting all his money on the slot machines. He was 26 years old, and he wore sunglasses inside because he thought it looked cool. He had a simple haircut, just a flat top, and wore a white suit. He pulled the lever for the slot once again, grunting in discontent. He had only won once, and it was Five Bucks.
Sure, the music was nice, he thought it was Mambo Number Five, but he could be wrong. He was having a decent time, but there was one guy that wouldn't stop staring at him from the food court, just across the room. Eventually, he got up, and walked over to Victor smooth as could be. He dropped a piece of paper in front of him. It was open.
Bar Harbor, Maine. You have five days. Gather your things.
WE ARE WATCHING YOU.
Topside Chronicles III: Rapture Falls.
Last edited by Seasick; 10-22-2011 at 09:57 AM.
Wow, I just read all of this and found it great! Can't wait for the third!