Chapter 1: I Hope Those Likes Fill The Void In Your Heart
"Well, that certainly isn't a disaster waiting to happen." Atlas leaned over his balcony, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth, watching the chaos. Because there was a problem, and that was a hole. Nobody knew where it had come from, or why it was getting bigger, but Atlas had enjoyed watching people's reactions, and more recently, vain attempts to fix it.
Today, a group he had dubbed the "Fix it Idiots" we're attempting, for the second time that week to patch up the giant hole with that looked like industrial amounts of tarp. How that had even ended up 100 feet under the ocean Atlas had no idea, but it was amusing nonetheless, especially when it came crashing down over the fools, almost crushing them. It looked as though the hole was widening, but Atlas was sure that was just his imagination. He hoped it was just his imagination. After about an hour, the sound of fabric scraped across tiles became far too annoying to be worth standing outside and so with a final sigh, Atlas slammed the balcony door shut,
The small, claustrophobic apartment was crammed with gadgetry, every available surface covered and then some. He slept on the sofa, covered by a blanket he'd stolen from a brothel, and washed in a tiny closet sized room,cold water only. There was no kitchen, he wanted to eat anything hot, he'd have to go out.
As such, he spent a lot of time reading, as he did that day, untill night had fallen and he looked up to realise he could barely see the outlines of his furniture. He turned on the gas lamp, electricity was for the elite, and then covered himself up and shut his eyes.
He was awoken in the pitch black several hours later, by someone shaking his shoulder so vigorously he was surprised it hadn't fallen off. He blinked, reaching for the gun under his pillow. "Right, it's Jack Ryan here, and we've no time for trouble. Rapture's sinking"
Chapter 2: Timber Bitches!
"Well, we're fucked." Shuffling across the bridge connecting his apartment block to the rest of Rapture, Atlas took a moment to survey the chaos below him. People screamed, clinging onto whatever they could find as a torrent of water and rubble crashed down onto them.
He glanced over at Jack, who gave him an inane smile. In the hour or so of slow progress they'd made across the bridge, it had taken him at least half of it to talk himself out of pushing the bastard right off it.Better to wait though, it was common knowledge Jack had a key to every building in the city.
"What-What actually happened?" It was a stupid question, considering the fact the giant hole was what seemed to be swallowing up half the city, but one he felt obligated to ask.
"I have no fucking clue, if I'm honest. I go to bed, and wake up with this thing bringing half my house down" He pointed at the hole "And then I come get you. After all, you're nothing if not a survivalist."
Atlas was starting to think maybe pushing him off was the best idea. He hated compliments.
"Yeah ok, so you're a fucking twat as well. So helpful."
He bit his lip. "But where to next?"
"Well, maybe if we went through the tunnels we could get to the atrium? If I was a human about to die, I'd go there first"
"Why the tunnels?" "The other entrances are blocked off, I checked on my way here." Rapture's tunnels were long and winding, twisting into the depths of the ocean and towards the sky. And what lived inside them nobody had seen and lived to tell. It used to be Atlas's job to drag the bodies out, swollen fit to burst and caked in dried blood. Staring, half the time. The other half you couldn't tell what they used to be. Jack pulled out his phone, flashing a light into the largest of the tunnels. It was about five foot wide at the largest point. He turned to face Atlas, who had gone a sickly shade of pale, paler. "Come on, Vampire boy, let's go." With that, he climbed into the tunnel, groaning with the effort. Atlas followed after a minute's hesitation, sighing as he heaved himself up. It was dark. Not the warm kind of dark, when you're about to sleep with a hand thrown over your stomach and someone's breath on your neck. No, this was a damp kind of dark, the kind where something can stare out from the darkness and pull you to the underside. And they had been crawling further into it for the last three hours. Atlas shut his eyes tight and tried not to heave. His heart hammered a beat inside his chest as he focused on trying to breathe. Jack was further ahead by a few metres, humming sporadically to break the darkness. He needed to get his attention, he needed to get out of these endless tunnels. "Jack" It came out strangled, and the effort made him gasp again. Jack stopped humming. Stopped altogether.
Chapter 3: We don't fuck in the ghost pipes
Oh god. Shit happens. It's 4am. I'm sorry, I haven't abandoned this, I just-life. Some violence, but nothing too not walking dead-ish
"What in the everloving fuck was that?" Jack strained to look over the other man's shoulder, throwing an arm over in as he practically climbed over his frozen frame. "Oh please don't tell me that's a fucking ghost." Atlas was still frozen, staring into the space where the movement/large shudder/breathing difficulty inducing thing had been. Jack sighed, shaking him slightly before slapping him along the face.
He chuckled. "I've wanted an excuse to do that since you first started trying to murder me." Atlas shrugged, blinking rapidly before turning to climb the short distance to the end of the tunnel. Then a monster appeared. Wait, It wasn't quite a monster. A child, a girl? They couldn't tell. But it was coming up behind them, grotesquely juddering and making a small suckling squelching noise whenever it moved. "That-That is one of the most terrible things I've ever seen, and that is saying an awful lot." Atlas however had effectively disappeared from the tunnel, and his footsteps were growing further away by the minute. Jack hauled himself up the last leg of the tunnel and looked around the dingy room for something to batter the thing with. There wasn't a whole lot of choice-a human hand and a gold club being the best things to hand. Rocks and stones and shit were falling from the sky (If Jack had bothered looking up, he would have realised Atlas was throwing them), and in general it was a horrible situation to be in. The thing lumbered closer. (Up close, you could see blistering pus filled marks and two small melted lumps Jack hoped were eyes). Grabbing at Jack, the thing twisted and fused to his arm, causing him to shriek in agony. He pulled, grasping at the golf club, and (eyes screwed shut) beat at the thing until he could hear a soft popping, squelching noise and felt blood run down the front of his jacket. The thing was pulled off him, and when he opened his eyes Atlas was frowning down at the thing, biting his lip. He stared at Jack (Breathing heavily, blood dripping down him and sweat). And then he stared some more at his arm. There was a large blistering pus filled mess there, the consistency of porridge, lumps of hard flesh poking through the yellow bile. Jack grasped, then heaved, then threw up over his shoes. " You alright down there?" Jack glared. Alright, fair enough,I think that might be a problem, not going to lie. Let's get a sling on it and then let's get out before you get mangled by anything worse."