I am Subject Delta. The symbol is branded on my hand. Johnny Topside to some. My real name lost even to the ones that took it from me. I can't even remember what happened. I only know of a powerful desire to be near an innocent. That desire had a large part shaping the creature I am today.
There is no future for me nor a past. There is only the present and the task at hand. While I am still driven to protect my Little Sister it is not the hypnotic commands designed by the late Dr. Suchong that urge me on. It is the memory of a scared little girl and a viper tongued woman that is never far from my thoughts. Both constantly talk to me in one way conversations across very different mediums. One always promising death and the other my salvation along with her own.
I do many things to survive in Rapture that I wish I didn't. I loot the bodies of splicers still warm from my white hot rivets. I empty trash cans for the hopes of rotten food. I drink out of toilets for fresh water. Mostly though, I kill. They come for me alone or in groups. They come with guns and wrenches and plasmids and hooks and hands that can break concrete. They want my weapons, my dollars, my ADAM, my life as Sofia Lamb commands them. They won't get any of it.
Of all the things I do none I regret more than the destruction of my brothers, the Big Daddies. One might even say they are my sons as the experiments performed on me helped create them. At first our savage battles are fairly even. We fight hard and I take many wounds but I am just a little too clever, a little too fast for them. As I drew closer to Fontaine Futuristics my weaponry and ADAM-granted powers give me a killer advantage. It becomes less worthy combat and more an act of mercy to put them down. Even the mighty Rumblers, who I had seen massacre fifteen splicers at once, were no match for me.
Then there are the Sisters. They adore me with yellow eyes and sing my praises even as I crush skulls to keep them safe. I need them. I need their ADAM but I cannot bring myself to fully harvest a single one. Not with Tenenbaum's warnings, not with Eleanor watching my every step. I will find her, eventually. How I can face her knowing I'd taken a little girl's life to help preserve my own on top of my innumerable sins?
I ride the massive elevator down through the fathoms to the seat of Sophia Lamb's power, Persephone. It is a long trip and I find myself thinking of Mark Meltzer. I was just a step behind him the whole way and once quite literally. If only I had woken up sooner maybe we could have joined forces. Maybe I could have freed his daughter and returned her to her real father. Maybe we could have been friends. Maybe I wouldn't have killed him thinking he was just another Big Daddy mindlessly protecting his charge. His story is not unlike my own. I fear that if I make it out of Rapture that I will think of this often.
I have time as I descend below the sea bed to think of some of the people I have met since waking up.
I wish I didn't.
Plowing my way through the decrepit hotel I slaughter splicer after splicer to get to Grace Halloway. The one time celebrity was a hateful old woman taunting me from the safety of her hideout. She sent wave after wave of plasmid crazy maniacs at me. All of them were seemingly eager to die on my drill. It is a lucky thing that there is so much water leaking into Rapture. I am often grateful to have their blood washed from my suit.
Finding the secret panel to her safe room is easy. By now I am already developing the the keen eye needed to find the supplies and tools necessary for survival. Wiping off her filthy window Grace again accuses me of kidnapping Eleanor and doing things I can't remember. She lets me in.
The key I'm after is on the desk. I take it. I look at Grace who is trying to burn a hole in me with her eyes. In my hand is a sawed off shotgun with five more shots than it would take to kill her. In my other is a palm of hellfire that would turn a person into a charred corpse in seconds.
"What are you waitin' for Tin Daddy? Christmas? Do what you're here to do." she says defiantly. There is no fear in her, no backing down. There is only pain, despair and regret. I have listen to many of her words on my way here. I realize being near her now that she wants to die and she wants me to do it.
I have killed enough already just to get to her. I did not know at the time but I will kill dozens, maybe even hundreds more. Even then I had my fill.
I holster my shotgun and let the flames in my hand die down. Reaching up to my neck I loosen the pressurized seal with a hiss of escaping air. Removing my helmet I hold it in my hands. I can't look at her directly. I know I need to say something but I have no idea where to begin.
"The hell you doing boy?" she spits and interrupts my thoughts.
"I don't know. You...you loved Eleanor didn't you?"
"I still do. What's it to a walking murder machine like you?"
"You think I kidnapped her. I didn't. I couldn't. This...hatred of me you have. You're wrong."
She laughed derisively. "Don't march into my house in my neighborhood and start killing my Family and tell me I'm wrong, Tin Daddy. Go one and pull that gun of yours and finish me off."
"No." I still haven't been able to look her in the eye. Now won't be a good time to start. "I've been listening to your audio diaries. I know all about you. If you want to die so bad for losing Eleanor then do it yourself."
I put my helmet back on and begin to lock in the deep sea seal. Grace's face twists into a visage of anger and she picks up a walking cane.
"You damn monster! I'll never let you walk outta here!"
She hits me with the cane over and over. I guess that it's probably hurting her hands more than anything. My armor is thick enough to stop weak bullets and certainly wouldn't be harmed by an old woman's walking stick. I finish with my helmet and turn to leave. Behind me I could hear Grace sobbing. I'm ten feet out the door when she yells, "Fine then, go! To hell with you!" Her voice nearly cracks as she curses me.
"You're a bigger man than I am, chief. Maybe next time she'll think twice about pointin' fingers before all the facts are in." Sinclair whispers in my ear as I leave the apartment.
"I don't think there's going to be a next time. I got what we needed. I'll be there in a few minutes."