CHAPTER ONEEditHe awoke, his hand out before as the water poured from the ceiling. He had a headache as the world around him groaned, as he began turning over to help himself up a sharp pain shot through his chest. He gripped it, feeling a sense of warmth at the touch. He looked down to see a large blood stain on his white collared shirt. A mechanical voice singing a song suddenly began,
"If you got hurt, or you don't better! Come on down, to the Heal-Aid Center." The jingle to a local hospital in the Medical Pavilion, suddenly a screech filled the room along with a laugh. James turned around, looking at the deselant hallway, there was nothing there. He began to crawl closer to the hospital, his eyes felt heavy as the blood ripped into a pool. The jinle sang again as he got closer, the laugh boomed through the room. Suddenly, a man fell down in front of him. His face mutated beyond belief and his chest ripped opened, a hook stuck deep into the skin.
He looked up only to see a man smiling down at him. His eyes widened as the man leapt free and landed in front of him, he turned his head around slowly. On his mouth, a Glasgow Smile with crooked and blood riddened teeth. His eyes were a bluish silver and his clothes a blood-stained ruin,
"My My! What do we have here?" He asked as he leaned in closer, adjusting his glasses. Sweat ran down his face, the splicer brought the hook to James' cheek. The tip smoothly opened the skin as he ran it downward, "Why so scared? Thinkin' I'm gonna kills ya! Well, if'n you are so, You are completely and utterly RIG-!" Before he could finish, a shotgun blast came from the side and the splicer flew into the side. James launched himself to his feet and looked to the side as he ran to the hospital,
"Give me ya ADAM! I'm not gonna hurt ya! I promise!" James gripping his chest, reached for the door. He pulled it, but the door wouldn't budge. He looked to a small paper clock hanging on the door, Out to Lunch Back at 6 it read. James looked at his watch, it was 9:15. The guy was probably already dead anyway, he turned to the man who held the shotgun. Suddenly the PA boomed over the whole city,
"Citizens of Rapture, Report abusive splicing. Remember! Splice mildly because, the the less we splice, the more we look nice!" The PA silenced and the shotgun maniac snarled at the PA system,
"Your not the boss o' us anymo' Ryan! Not anymo'!"