Scott stepped cautiously out of the tiny sub. He hadn’t expected the doors to close so quickly and lock him in, or the sudden jolt of movement that told him he was going for a ride. On that line of thought, he hadn’t expected to be flying over the middle of the ocean when the left engine of his plane cut out. Right above an oddly placed lighthouse.
Right now, however, he had other concerns. The sub had dumped him in a very strange place after a long ride under the ocean. As he crept into strange territory Scott got his first glimpse of his new life; An archway proudly displayed the words Welcome to Rapture!, along with an image of a city skyline.
“Great,” Scott whispered to himself. “Now where the Hell are we?” He looked around, and was not encouraged. The entrance hall had once been a grand affair, but was now in a state of filth. The tile floor was chipped and broken up in some places, garbage and debris littered the floor, and the ceiling-Jesus, Scott thought, It’s like a giant aquarium!
Far above a huge glass roof protected the room (mostly) from the pressure of the ocean. The water had broken through in a few places and now several streams fell the few hundred feet to the ground. Through the smudged and dusty dome Scott could see something dark moving above. Was it a whale? “This shouldn’t be possible,” Scott said aloud. “I shouldn’t be here! How do I get home?”
A distant noise caught his attention. It sounded like a child, but Scott wasn’t taking any chances.  He drew his 1911 Colt slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. After creeping forward for what felt like ages, Scott made it out of the huge entrance plaza and found a small hallway.
Near the end of the corridor Scott encountered the source of the noise; a little girl was wandering barefoot through the rubble, singing tunelessly. Scott relaxed and put away his gun, afraid of scaring her. “Hey!” he whispered. The girl didn’t seem to hear him, and knelt to examine something under a pile of debris.
Scott was now close enough to reach out and touch her. “Excuse me,” He said, louder this time. “Do you know where we are?”
The girl spun around, and in an instant Scott knew he was dealing with something completely unheard of. Her pale skin was crisscrossed by pure black veins, her greasy hair hung in curtains, and the dress she wore was so filthy that he couldn’t tell what color it was. Worst of all were her eyes; they glowed a dull orange, the sort of ghostly light that led wanderers astray in swaps. “Help!” The child screamed in a voice that covered several tones and inflections at once. Scott was taken aback by the frightened (and, now that he looked closer, still somewhat human) eyes.
“H-Hey,” Scott stammered, “Look k-kid, I didn’t mean-”
A sound like a dying whale echoed through the hallway. Scott looked around a corner and saw yet another nightmare. This one took the form of a huge man in a diving suite. The dimensions were all wrong, though. The helmet seemed far too large and was positioned too low, giving the figure a stooped appearance. Rather than one viewport or visor the beast had several dozen small ones, all glowing with an angry red light.
“Oh Hell,” Scott whispered. The creature raised its right hand menacingly. It wasn’t really a hand at all, but a wicked-looking drill with a pointed tip. “Run!” Scott cried as it took a threatening step forward, and then another. Soon it was moving at a terrifying pace with the drill held at the ready.
Scott grabbed the smaller monster on the off chance that she was really human after all and began to run. She began to struggle violently and screamed “Mr. B.! Mister B.!” Scott ignored her and ran for the submarine, hoping the thick walls would keep the abomination at bay for a while.
“Oh God,” Scott whispered when he neared his escape route, “Oh Jesus, no!” The sub’s door had automatically closed. The girl in his arms was struggling harder now, and it was becoming harder to hang on to her. The water! Scott thought. Can I make it to the water? The monster was wearing a diving suite, but could it swim?
“Mr. Bubbles!” The girl shouted, “Get him, Mr. B! Help!” Is she yelling for that monster? Scott wondered, turning around as the footsteps got closer. The beat was closer than he’d expected. “Here!” Scott tried to say, “I didn’t mean anything by it! Take her!”
But it was too late. Scott felt the drill penetrate deep into his stomach, then mix everything up like a blender when it began to spin. He didn’t even have time to cry out. The world grew distant, indistinct, and finally unimportant all in a few moments. Scott fell to the ground and looked up calmly as an armored boot was raised high above his head, then fell downward with a swift thud.

Fluttering, something strange that made no sense. Thought? No, not possible. He was dead.

Scott watched something odd going on above him, not sure what he was seeing. Was he going to meet God soon? He hoped so. Scott had always been a believer, and was very excited to see what was waiting for him on the other side.

More strange ‘thinking’, and some strange feelings too. Scott felt like a disembodied observer. It was a pleasant feeling. All he had to do for it to continue was listen, and obey…

Years passed…


Bunny strolled unhappily through the debris of her home. She was too old to be a ‘little’ sister, and as a result her belly-slug was less efficient. She now spent her time patrolling the slow areas, looking in vain for some source of precious Adam. It had been hours since she had found any, and she was beginning to lose hope.

“Look Mr. B!” She suddenly cried, pointing to a nearby automatic door. Water puddle on the floor outside; this room must have been flooded once, but had been cleared out by the maintenance drones. “Maybe there’s an angel left,” Bunny said hopefully. “Could you get the door?”

Mr. Bubbles did as he was asked. “Thank you,” Bunny said as he bent the metal away. She liked having Bubbles around, even if the route she traveled wasn’t very dangerous. His armored suit creaked as he moved aside. “We’ll have to get you some oil Mr. B., otherwise you’ll rust up.”

Bunny hated being treated like a waste of resources. She hated being a “second-hand” sister, no longer as efficient or durable as she was as a child. She hated seeing Mr. Bubbles slowly getting slower as the maintenance crews took longer to fix him up. At least, she would have hated all these things, if she could hate.

“Look at all this!” Bunny whispered as she crept inside. Mr. B. followed, but with much less stealth. “This room must have been a learning place for daddies!” The walls were covered with vita-chambers, and a big rivet gun was sitting on the table in the center of the room.

Bunny looked around for a while until she got bored.  The rivet gun was old and didn’t work, and the one vita-chamber that was occupied was covered in algae. It had to be several years old, and the occupant looked dead. It was another Big Daddy, but in a much older outfit than the one Mr. Bubbles wore.

A gunshot startled Bunny out of her investigation. The bullet had hit just inches above her head, shorting out the electrical system on the occupied tank. Bubbles immediately stepped in front of her, hefted his rivet gun, and let out a long warning groan. “You big whale!” A man shouted. “Give her to me!” Bunny peeked around her guardian’s leg and saw a horribly deformed man standing in the doorway. He was a ‘splicer’; a citizen that had gone crazy on Adam and would now do anything to get it.

Before Mr. Bubbles could shoot the man was gone, babbling incoherently as he went. “I don’t like it here anymore,” Bunny whispered. “I think we should leave, Mr. Bubbles!” Mr. Bubbles seemed to agree, because he rushed out into the hallway to make sure it was safe. Bunny followed, hoping that there were no more splicers around.

As they were walking away Mr. B. stepped on a funny rock. There was an audible click, and an explosion rocked the hallway. Bunny and Mr. Bubbles were thrown in opposite directions, with the latter taking the brunt of the blow. Both of Mr. B.’s legs were broken, and as a crowd of whooping delinquents closed him he tried to stand and fire his gun.

“Mr. Bubbles!” Bunny screamed, struggling to keep hold of her harvesting needle only to have it wrenched away. “Get up, Mr. B.! Please, get up!” One of the splicers had the presence of mind to hold his gun right up to the Big Daddy’s visor. “No!” Bunny shouted as her companion’s hulking form shuddered once, then went still.

One of the splicers kicked her hard in the stomach. Bunny was afraid that her belly-slug would burst from the impact, even though she had been assured that this was impossible. “We got us an old one!” The man giggled, his warped face twisting into a grin. “Bet she’s got lots of Adam, just ripe for the taking!” His friends laughed as he grabbed the harvesting needle. “Been needing this, I have!”

Just as the needle was plunged into her stomach a loud groan echoed through the hallway. The splicers first looked to the dead Big Daddy, but he hadn’t moved. By the time they realized that another Daddy had come charging out of the flooded room the lead splicer had already been torn in two.

Bunny watched as the newcomer grabbed another splicer by the neck and squeezed him into oblivion. Chaos reigned. Bullets flew in all directions, one of them striking Bunny in the hand. This only enraged the new Daddy further, and before long the few remaining splicers were running for their lives.

The new Mr. Bubbles knelt to examine her injuries. Bunny clutched her stomach, whimpering as she fought pain and nausea. “I think they stabbed the Adam slug,” she said. “I don’t feel so well, Mister B. Can we go home?”

‘Mr. Bubbles’ offered her an armored glove that made Bunny’s hand look comically small. “Carry me?” She asked, still woozy and glad that her run was over for the day. As they passed the old Mr. B.’s body Bunny reached out to touch his oversized helmet. “I’ll miss you Bubbles,” she whispered.