"Let's go, Mr B!"
My, my, what a sweet voice. Like a melody to my ears.
I follow the trail of the voice, which echoed through out the corridors of Rapture.
I see a small girl, pale in the flesh and dressed in a dirtied pink dress, but her eyes.
Oh, those wonderful, luminous yellow eyes.
"Mr B, let's go! The Angels can't wait for us!" her angelic little voice teases as she takes my finger and leads me through the dark, damp back alleys of Rapture in search of... well, whatever that red liquid is. I look out at the submerged city, and take note of the tranquility beneath the waves.
Wait, who's that?
I see a large, ugly, diving-suited monster with a horrible luminous light staring at me.
Oh, silly me, that's just my reflection.
She stops by an object.
It's like a person, just it's not moving.
What is that?
Is that an 'Angel'?
She tugs at my finger, getting my attention
"Hurry up mr B! I can smell another Angel!" she innocently pleads, releasing her grip and skipping off further down the corridor.
Wait, come back. I can't move too fast!
I quicken my pace, following in her footsteps. I come into a large, open ballroom.
Who are these strange, masqueraded people? Why am I being stared at?
A scream pierces the silence.
I burst out the doors of the ballroom, running at such a speed I never knew was possible. Skidding around corners, I come to a balcony.
There she is! The angelic-voiced girl.
Wait...Those angry men surround her like a pack of wolves.
No. They're grabbing her! Let her go!
She is thrown aside, her precious red fluid now in the hands of that...that...creature
She begins to sob, and tears begin to cascade down her cheeks
I roar out in fury, how dare they hurt her!
Jumping down into one of the men, crushing him like a tin can.
Oh...such a pretty red to go with the awful crunching sound.
Another of the nasty men swings a pipe at me.
Silly you, that won't hurt me.
I beat his hand aside and thrust my drill into his face, another fountain of that luscious, red fluid paints my drill-end.
"Take this, you bastard!" the last man calls, firing some sort of object at me. I think they call it a 'gun'. Several annoying pinging noises ring in my ears.
Ignoring these noises, I swing my drill at him, but he ducks, parrying my attack with nonchalant ease. With the red liquid in his hand, he goes to consume it.
How dare you! She found that first!
I seize his scary, deformed face in my hand and try to squeeze the liquid from his mouth.
He won't give it back. I must not be squeeing hard enough. He wrestles and shouts, but he won't give it back.
Next, my hand is coated in the strange, red liquid. But it isn't the one I wanted.
I think I squeezed too hard.
Picking up the vial of red liquid, I hand it back to the little girl, who accepts it with a smile and a squeal of glee.
"Thank you, daddy. I knew you'd protect me from the bad men" she replies to the gesture, hopping up onto my back, wrapping her arms around my helmet in a gesture of compassion. I like this feeling. It makes my insides go warm and fills me with joy.
You're very welcome.
Very welcome indeed.