#wtr rabbit

Saltwater coated his mouth and airway as he broke the ocean's surface and gasped in, coughing out seawater even as the bobbing waves hit him with more and threatened to pull him back under. Eyes stinging, he looked around over the floating pieces of wreckage, luggage and bodies to land on the only landmark he could see: a lonely lighthouse that loomed above the plane crash and flickered weakly in the moonlight. Water lapped in his ears and muffled his hearing but there were no sounds of other survivors. Only the ambient noise of crackling fire, creaking metal, and gentle waves.

He swam towards the lighthouse through the frigid water, and by the time he managed to maneuver around what he thought was the slowly sinking tail of the plane onto the steps that circled the base of the lighthouse, he could barely feel the rough surface of stone and smooth metal beneath his fingertips as he pulled himself out of the water coughing harshly. He felt his body tense before a more violent coughing fit took over, vomiting out seawater as he forcibly tried to dispel it from his lungs and stomach until he was left panting on the lighthouse steps.

Syrus spent several seconds trying to catch his breath from the near drowning, each inhale stinging his nose and throat painfully while he tried to blink away the salt from his eyes. All he smelled was salt, the night air agitating his lungs and drying the water on his skin. He didn't get cold easily, but he still shuddered.

Water lapped at his shoes as he pushed himself off the stairs and stood up, looking back towards the floating debris in the water. There was no movement aside from the bobbing of metal and other objects on the surface, the plumes of fire and smoke that were slowly becoming extinguished as more parts of the plane sunk, and the occasional burble of bubbles from the watery depths as the ocean claimed the wreckage piece by piece. He heard and saw no one else.

It didn’t seem like anyone else had survived the crash.

Given that Syrus could feel internal shifting of bones and skin stitching back together beneath his clothes, he could only imagine that the rest of the passengers had perished on impact or were knocked out to drown beneath the surface, as unlikely as the second one option was. He couldn’t tell from where he stood on the steps what was luggage, a seat, or a floating corpse.

He exhaled and turned away from the water, walking up the metal steps past bent light posts lining the stairs that flickered unpredictably to barely illuminate the ascent. Aside from the question of why humans would create a lighthouse in the middle of the ocean away from any landmass, he wondered just how long the structure had been around. He just hoped that whoever potentially resided inside would be accommodating. He already felt a slight gnaw in his chest from hunger.

However, when Syrus reached the top of the steps and saw the half-opened double doors, it made him think that no one was home.

Sniffing the air there was nothing but the smell of saltwater and the faint scent of moldy fabric and rust from inside, and past the doorway was pitch black. He should have known better.

Humans were nosy and loud. If someone had lived here, they would have very likely rushed outside to see the commotion of an entire wreckage less than a hundred feet away in the water. If someone had survived and made it to the lighthouse before him, he would have heard them rummaging around or calling for help inside.

“Tch,” Syrus let out a slightly irritated exhale but moved to step inside. Even if there were no current occupants, there seemed to be some power despite it being weak and sporadic. Perhaps there was a way to contact someone inside.

When he passed the threshold, his eyes weren’t given the chance to adjust to the darkness before there was the sound of a door creaking behind him, turning around just in time to see the door slam itself shut behind him. Baring his teeth, he prepared to callout whoever was around by lights in the room flickered on before he could utter a word.

Blue and yellow lights weakly illuminated the narrow entryway with the aid of the rooms rusted metal interior that reflected them. The large discolored, metallic bust of a man was revealed along with a sagging, tattered, and dirty red banner that waved lightly against the air. A crackling noise played from somewhere and echoed within the room, just barely able to be recognized as more vintage music after a couple seconds of listening.

Syrus narrowed his eyes at the display but relaxed slightly, the whole thing seeming automated on whatever power supply barely fueled the lights and mechanisms. He tested the closure of the front door lightly, the structure not budging at his more absentminded attempt, before walking around the plaque and bust in the center of the room toward one of the two open doorways in the back of the room.

He didn’t bother to read the plaque because he didn’t care for whatever human memorial or achievement the structure was meant to represent. But, as he brushed past the red banner, he noticed gold coloring reflecting in the light and was able to make out the words ‘NO GODS OR KINGS. ONLY MAN.’ through the stains and dirt.

“Petty creatures,” he murmured to himself, turning away and saw that the two open doorways in the back of the room led to staircases down. He descended the several steps down where the staircases met into a singular landing that turned into another staircase further down in the direction of the front of the lighthouse before splitting once more into another room. It made him feel rather claustrophobic but at the very bottom it opened slightly.

A round, metallic structure sat in the center of the room within a pool of water in the floor, taking up half of the space. It was hollow with a glass-windowed hatch held open to the side, the interiors lined with two rows of red seating and a lever at the back of the sphere.

This was it? There was a random lighthouse in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean and all it contained was two claustrophobic floors, an egotistical homage bust, and an empty machine?

Syrus made a barely interested hum as he glanced around the rest of the small room for anything else, the only other object of note being a discolored plaque to his left on the wall that had the word ‘ART’ near the bottom with the rest of the plate taken up by combined artistic symbols. Turning back to the metallic sphere in the water pool, he wondered the purpose of it – aside from obviously seating passengers – and walked to its side for a closer look.

Other than natural discoloration and rusting, it seemed surprisingly functional if the dim but active light inside was any indication.

After a minute investigating the exterior, he decided to reluctantly check the inside for anything that could be considered a clue or potentially be of importance, bending slightly to step onto the red-colored flooring. He wasn’t fond of going into an even smaller space and froze when there was a light hiss behind him that cut through the sound of water gently lapping at the metal sphere below. Spinning on his heel he saw the open hatch start to close behind him with a slight fog of steam, stepping towards the closing glass.

“Hey!” Syrus was quick to rush forward and try to shove back against the windowed hatch to keep it open, was able to feel the pistons strain against him. A jolt that went through the whole sphere jostled him enough to make him step back to keep his balance, the hatch sealing him in with another hiss as he realized the sphere began to descend into the water.

He growled, moving back forward to try and forced the hatch back open but as the water level rose and the sphere was fully submerged, the water pressure aided the latch in remaining shut. Outside he could see the stone walls of the descending tunnel with statues lining the walls, plagues counting the fathoms the sphere lowered past, a measurement that was meaningless to him as he debated trying to break the glass open or ruin the machine.

It was already less than fully functional, a noise from the window like something else was trying to unsuccessfully open or close as the lights and statues gave way to an oppressive darkness that he couldn’t see through.

Syrus took a deep breath to try and settle his nerves even as he continued to scowl slightly, unused to and despising being in such a cramped space. Only the sound of creaking kept him from pacing around in his restlessness, in case any antsy pacing somehow affected the machines structural integrity. After about a minute of the intense blackout his eyes were suddenly assaulted by light, blinking as the sphere moved forward out of the stone tunnel into open water and an unfamiliar sight.

A large city stood in the oceans gloom, illuminated by neon signs and stage lights that littered the ocean floor and coral below the sphere, dimmer than ones freshly installed but still easily cut through the darkness that lingered this far beneath the ocean’s surface. The sphere slowly moved along an underwater track that weaved through buildings rivaling skyscrapers and superstructures, glass walkways webbing between them that refracted the lighting.

Fish and ocean life swam through the city unphased, even a humpback whale and its calf drifting above with a lingering moan.

Syrus was both impressed and perturbed, having never heard or seen anything of this caliber by humans. The closest was the legend of Atlantis but this was obviously a more modern construction in comparison to the centuries-old description. And, as the machine followed the track toward an entrance in the side of a building, it solidified that this was no Atlantis.

‘Rapture Transit’ glittered in the lights around the tunnel through algae and budding coral, a shoal of shimmering fish scattering as the sphere slipped inside and began to ascend.

Relief rushed through Syrus when the machine broke through the water and surfaced, even though the water outside was replaced by the sight of a dark metallic platform covered in rust with a tattered red carpeted walkway leading into the dark. Both were covered in dark stains and ragged scratch marks etched from carpet to metal at varying thickness and depth. He hadn’t exactly been expecting a warm welcome, but he still stiffened when the hatch hissed before opening, refusing to move other than wrinkle his nose in disgust and cover it with a hand.

The air reeked of rot and decay, mold and mildew, and the more room temperature air of the sphere was quickly replaced by a cold that leeched into every inch of the machine in a chill that settled uncomfortably on his skin. If the overtones weren’t so immediately repugnant, the saturated scent of blood underneath would have left his mouth watering.

Syrus listened for several seconds for any sounds past the creaking of metal and the water lapping under the sphere, eventually deciding to step outside onto the platform. Slowly growing used to the stench in the air, he lowered his hand and looked around as he walked the short path connecting the platform to the rest of the rooms more solid floor, glancing at the wall directly across from where the sphere surfaced. A tiger shark idly swam past in the illuminated gloom outside.

He frowned at the sight before he turned his attention to the rest of his surroundings.

The entryway he’d found himself in was in heavy disarray, furniture turned over and torn with old papers scattered on the floor and rendered illegible by old blood stains that covered everything. He noticed a peculiar shape splayed out behind the couch, a second passing before he realized it was a rotted yet mummified corpse.

The mixture of cold, humid air had affected the way the body was decaying, and he couldn’t gauge how long ago the human had perished.

If the room was any indicator of years of neglect, Syrus was surprised that the lights outside still held power and that the spherical machine had worked. Glancing back at the machine in question he silently debated whether to try and see if it could go back or not. But the only thing he had to return to was an empty lighthouse and the wreckage that led him here. So, he decided to travel past the torn apart entrance, staying quiet to listen for any threats over the creaks and groans of the structure around him.

The disarray extended past the entryway into the halls beyond, more knocked over furniture strewn about and making navigation through the bloodied halls slow. The air slowly lost some of the salty humidity the further he got from the entrance, making him sneeze at the increase of dust particles that he could see drift through the dim light.

Even though he was able to stomach the stench of rot that continued to permeate every breath he took, his sense of smell was rendered useless by the potency as he traversed the damaged maze-like halls until he came across the base of some stairs.

Syrus felt hunger beginning to set in as he climbed the steps to a more open room that looked like an entrance hall, intricate yet rusted interior surprisingly decently lit by both flickering lights above and whatever light from outside came through the glass. Once more, he wondered how any of this was being powered.

He felt his back straighten slightly at the sensation of being watched, looking around at the rest of the room. But he saw nothing except the large staircase on the other side of the room and heard nothing but the ambient groaning of metal around him. He frowned but stepped forward to walk across the room, thinking that whatever or whoever was potentially watching him would eventually reveal itself. His thought process was correct when something dropped to the floor on all fours in front of him not even halfway across the room.

The thing lunged at him before he could get a good look at it, forcing him to jerk back in surprise to narrowly avoid claws that glistened in the light. He was caught off guard by the things speed, claws hooking through the fabric of his turtleneck as it slashed at him once more, another swing digging into his side briefly.

Syrus exclaimed in pain and pulled away, making to grab the thing when it skittered several feet out of his reach and shouted, “You got some ADAM, little fish?!”

He hissed and tried to keep it in his sights, bracing himself when the creature jumped at him again. This time when he reached to grab at the thing, he was able to get a hold of flailing wrists and managed to hold on as the momentum from the lunge forced him back a couple feet, pushing his back against the nearest wall. He snarled at the creature, able to get a better look at it now that it was trapped in his grasp.

It wasn’t a feral creature in the traditional sense, but it may as well be.

It was a human male dressed in ripped semi-formal attire that was covered in blood and other miscellaneous stains, the glinting claws rusted over hooks the human was using as weapons and would give another human an infection if they managed to survive the initial swipe. The human wore a half-broken owl-esque mask that was askew, revealing a face deformed by lumps with a distorted grin and manic, bloodshot eyes staring back at him.

“Ooooooooh, little fish is feisty,” the man in Syrus’ grasp purred even though he was smaller and struggling to pull his wrists free.

If the human’s general odor wasn’t repugnant enough, his breath made Syrus grimace in disgust. He was tempted to attribute all the rotting smell to this one man.

Syrus shoved the human away from himself and watched the man contort in mid-air to land on all fours again, deciding to give the human a chance to back down from the idiotic endeavor of attacking him with a firm warning. “Back off or it’s going to get ugly for you.”

“Not unless you-” the human shifted on his hooks in agitation, lunging toward Syrus as his voice rose in both anger and volume. “- give me YOUR ADAM!!!”

Syrus was able to pull out of reach quickly now that he knew how fast the human was capable of moving, grabbing and wrenching one of the hooks from the human’s grasp while the other hook managed to scratch into his cheekbone. Striking the other wrist with enough force to hear a crack he was able to fully disarm the human and kicked the second hook away. Yet, despite being unarmed and having a broken wrist, the human continued trying to attack him.

He twisted a dodge around the smaller man when a punch was thrown towards him, kicking the human in the back and forcing him into the same wall Syrus had just been pressed against. Seeing that the human was dazed, he pinned the human to the wall with a hand when the other man tried to turn around and face him.

“Oi-!” the owl mask fell to the ground as the human glared angrily and started trying to squirm against the hand against his chest. “Git yer hands o-augh!”

Whatever furious tirade the human was about to spew was cut off as Syrus’ tongue darted out from his mouth and latched onto the crook of the human’s neck with a tip that split into prongs, quickly followed by his canines sinking into the other man’s flesh. He felt his teeth scrape against the bone of the human’s clavicle.

If the human’s smell was bad, the blood wasn’t much better.

Syrus’s nose wrinkled and his lips curled in disgust at the taste of the man’s unclean flesh and blood, stomachs churning as he simultaneously injected the human and began drinking from him. The flavor was repulsive, bitter and sour with something chemical that contaminated the human. He wanted to discard the man but felt his hunger urge him to drink.

He reluctantly indulged and ignored the humans’ struggles, deep gulps spurred by his injuries and the uncertainty of his next meal.

With each unenthusiastic swallow he felt the human’s frantic heartbeat weaken, the struggles and warmth fading within a minute. When he could no longer draw a full mouthful of blood from the human he unlatched with a heavy exhale and pulled away from the fresh cadaver.

Syrus apathetically watched the corpse slide to the ground while he licked the corner of his lips for any remaining blood. Feeling a trail leading down his chin he raised a hand and wiped it away, a shudder of revulsion going through him at the taste that lingered on his tongue and in his throat. Still, as much as his insides churned with disgust, he could already feel his body begin to absorb the blood. Soon, the cuts he received would be stitched back together as if he’d never been marked.

“I did warn you,” he told the lifeless body bluntly. Still, if this human had managed to survive then it was very possible that other humans were down here. At best, he could potentially find someone to help him leave this underwater coffin. At worst, he had a supply of blood to feed on for a while. The only way to find out was to press forward.

Syrus turned away from the corpse and walked toward the stairs he’d been blocked from, prepared to venture further.

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A new arrival was here.

It’d been so long since the last newcomers had come down to Rapture, at least weeks or months. It was hard to know the actual passage of time when there wasn’t a way to tell when it was day or night and none of the clocks worked to help keep track of time. Spending almost each waking moment trying to survive and constantly running on fumes certainly didn’t help. Rabbit hadn’t seen the newcomer yet, but they didn’t expect this one – or ones – to last any longer than other arrivals. A day or two maximum was the typical timeframe. If the newcomers even survived the first hour on arrival.

They never understood how the Splicers always knew when there was a new arrival, only that there was an increase of activity in the way of rushed scrambling and mutterings that echoed through the halls as each Splicer rushed to be the first to claim fresh ADAM. Of course, no newcomer held ADAM within their veins and the only reward for the senseless homicide was a fresh corpse to add to the decay throughout the underwater city. Most people didn’t show up eager to stab their arms with questionable needles littering the ground – not like ADAM and EVE were common anyways – and anyone who’d lasted long enough to try probably joined the frenzied Splicer population.

That was the nature of Rapture, destroying lives and sanity with the lingering addiction and greed that ran it into the ground in the first place.

Rabbit crawled through vents and used rafters to traverse to the Entrance Hall, following the sound of Splicers scrambling and muttering down the halls. While they continued to try and be quiet like they’d grown into the habit of, they weren’t as concerned about being noticed. Still, when there was a slow movement in the corner of their vision they still froze and carefully looked toward the source.

An abnormally quiet Spider stretched out from the shadows near them, hook digging into the same beam that they were also perched on.

Static prickled through their veins as the Spider looked at them with a smudged snake-like mask, staring at their own rabbit-masked face for several tense seconds before languidly turning away. The Spider skittered off the edge of the rafter beam and front-flipped to the ground below before crawling away on all fours toward the Entrance Hall.

A rare reprieve from the normal routine of being hunted on sight.

Rabbit exhaled slowly to calm themself down, waiting a few seconds before cautiously continuing for several minutes. The only indication that the newcomer was likely still alive as time dragged on was that they could still hear echoes of agitated Splicers. They mused that the newcomer was able to hold their own or they were managing to hide from the feral addicts loudly roaming the passageways when they heard a death-scream come from the direction of the Entrance Hall. Stopping, they tilted their head in thought.

They were tempted to return to their nest in Arcadia but the orchards were over hours away and new arrivals were rare. It was possible that the newcomer brought something of value from the surface, items like lighters, pocketknives, or even bottled water and some kind of snack. Any item common on the surface that they didn’t have the luxury of having access to in Rapture, things Rabbit valued that the Splicers would look over.

Rabbit huffed a little and decided to continue further since they’d already come a long way, crawling through the vents. In conjunction with the normal creaks and groans along with the expected noises accompanying Splicers they could hear occasional shouts that randomly cried out as they got closer. After a few more minutes there was a lull in active sound before another death-scream rang out close by.

Frowning, they peered out of the next vent grate to try and get their bearings and investigate, going still when they noticed someone standing in the hall below. A man dropped the body of a Spider and they saw a smear of blood at the edge of his mouth before he wiped it away with the back of a hand and looked around intensely, making them lean away from the light of the grate to avoid potentially being seen while examining him.

The man wore more modern clothes, a simply black turtleneck compared to the semi-formal and formal attire of Splicers, so this was the newcomer. And he managed to hold his own, it seemed. A couple bodies were near him and the dead Spider, but they couldn’t tell if he killed the Splicers or if they had been in the middle of killing each other when he dealt the final blow.

The only thing they were certain of was that he seemed uncannily unphased at his situation as his gaze swept across the room.

Rabbit waited for the man to finish looking around, his gaze landing on nothing in particular before he turned and eventually continued on further into Rapture. They tilted their head as they quietly trailed behind him in the vents, pausing every time the metal confines groaned enough to catch the man’s attention until he’d turn and walk along again. They were just glad to follow along with the knowledge that Splicers would attack the newcomer before them.

The newcomer was obviously unfamiliar with the metallic halls, stopping to look around frequently at each bend and turn to try and keep a grip on his bearings. Occasionally he’d mutter to himself briefly that was too far away and quiet for them to discern. Despite not knowing the labyrinthian halls of Rapture, he was unperturbed by the constant display of gore and decay of corpses scattered along his path.

It unnerved Rabbit.

They were used to newcomers jumping at every sound, panicked and scared at the underwater city. It was a welcome difference to the over-aggressive and familiar residents that would frequent the halls instead. They could almost live vicariously through each new living corpse who was blissfully unaware of the depravity in these depths, reminded of when they were first stuck down here. This newcomer was uncomfortably calm, even as they heard him let out frustrated mumblings below.

Still, disquieting as the newcomers lack of panic was, Rabbit also noticed a lack of Splicer attacks and activity as the minutes stretched on. It was something that was more concerning than the singular man below, but they could make the guess that Splicers were preparing an ambush somewhere along the halls.

Splicers, as arrogant, feral, and power-hungry as each one was, struggled to coordinate with each other. However, lately some of them were slowly figuring out that working together would increase the odds of finding ADAM. A few had managed to piece together a strategy that they’d used on the last arrival turned victim and Rabbit had almost died to one of the haphazard ambushes themself.

A rather basic premise, but one that went over most of the heads of the addled addicts.

Rabbit had to give the Splicers some credit though. Patience wasn’t a virtue that was common here and while they were certain the ambush would happen soon enough, the fact that it hadn’t happened yet surprised them immensely.

Claustrophobic halls eventually expanded into a decent-sized room after another stretch of uncharacteristic quiet, still in disarray with scattered furniture and bodies that littered the space of what had probably been a communal lobby area. Blood and Spider claw marks trailed along the floor and walls, ruining posters and papers that hadn’t succumbed to the salted air.

Rabbit crawled from one grate to the next to continue overseeing the newcomer, stopping when movement in the corner of their eye caught their attention.

Through the grate they watched as two Splicers peeled away from the shadows on either side of the room entrance that the newcomer just walked through, one armed with a shotgun and the other a bonesaw that glinted through rust in the artificial light. Simultaneously, two more Splicers with a wrench and rolling pin respectively crept out from behind nearby columns with faded gilding, three Spiders dropping down to the floor from the shadows above onto all fours.

The newcomer was very quickly surrounded.

“OI! Fish!” the Splicer with the bonesaw bellowed unnecessarily loud as it approached, pointing the rusted metal at the newcomer. Now disfigured from an average human man it was the largest of the group and was obviously whatever so-called Alpha that sat at the top of the hierarchy among the present Splicers. Rabbit was too far away to see but they could practically hear the sneer in its voice as the newcomer turned to face it. “Yeah, you! Be a good fish and give use your ADAM, or we’ll tear you apart for it!”

The other Splicers hiss and snickered at the proclamation, shifting on hooks and feet in barely restrained bloodlust as they began to circle the new arrival. Rabbit could all to easily imagine the unmasked ones gnash unkempt teeth in deformed mouths.

To their surprise, the newcomer SIGHED, of all things. As though his whole situation was more of an inconvenience than anything to be legitimately concerned with, making Rabbit wonder why he was so calm in this place of death.

“Are any of you going to tell me what this ADAM even is,” the newcomer asked bluntly. “I doubt it’s the name of a person given that nobody’s bothered to ask me mine.”

Rabbit tilted their head in almost fascination. There’d been a couple arrivals that talked back nervously, but none as brazen or uncaring as this one. It made this newcomer more interesting but there was something about him that kept them on edge aside from his response.

“ADAM is inside you. Inside all of us,” the Alpha replied simply, running a few fingers from its free hand up the front of its sternum slowly as though savoring the thought of the reward it didn’t yet have. Like every Splicer, the concept of anyone not understanding or even knowing the existence of ADAM was an impossibility to it. Almost purring, the Alpha added, “Don’t play coy, fish, and give it up.”

The newcomer scoffed; a sound that immediately made the Alpha stiffen before he even spoke.

“So, if I don’t comply, you’ll kill me. And if I do comply… you’ll kill me?” the newcomer asked, an actual tinge of amusement in the edge of his voice for a moment before it changed to irritation. “I have to say, you need to work on your pitch because no sane person would agree to such a deal.”

Rabbit exhaled slightly in their own amusement. They knew that there were no sane people in Rapture, but this almost unnerving confidence was a change of pace to the begging, crying, or screaming. Still, seven Splicers against one person was about to lead to the obvious outcome. He didn’t even have any Plasmids.

The Alpha’s arm with the bonesaw lowered from where it’d been pointing at the newcomer, scowling so blatantly that Rabbit could see it from where they sat in the vent. There was a moment of the Splicer tensing before lunging forward with the bonesaw, shouting, “We wasn’t asking!”

The other Splicers exclaimed collectively and jolted but didn’t do more than take a step toward the newcomer and the Alpha. The Spiders looked like they were struggling against invisible leashes, hissing and straining to not lunge into the fray as the group waited impatiently to allow the Alpha first blood, first ADAM.

The newcomer ducked out of the way from the Alpha as it swung its whole body into slashing with the bonesaw, taking advantage of the powerful but non-agile attack by making it overshoot. Before the Alpha could fully stop its charge and pull back from the momentum the smaller man shifted in from the side and lunged upward with his elbow, delivering a clean blow to the Alpha’s nose. With an unnatural cracking sound, the Alpha reeled back with staggering motions and raised a hand to its face, blooding dripping down to the floor.

The Alpha hissed. “Why you-.”

The smaller man didn’t make a motion when the Alpha stepped toward him again and raised the bonesaw for another attempt, the other Splicers clamoring for blood.

The strike never landed.

The Alpha’s foot landed wrong and its legs crumpled beneath it as it fell forward to the ground, bonesaw clattering out of its grasp. The excited hissing and exclamations from the surrounding Splicers faded to silence, the homicidal audience stunned by their impromptu leader’s fresh corpse lying motionless on the floor.

Rabbit also stared in shock behind their mask, taking in the fact that the newcomer was able to kill the Splicer with one strike to the nose in the brief silence.

Silence that broke to the remaining Splicers exploding into a frenzied free-for-all.

The Spiders were the first to lunge forward with the other melee-wielding Splicers rushing forward with varying timed swings that forced the newcomer from where he stood, the Splicer with the shotgun quickly racking it on the side. While the Spiders lunged indiscriminately in a fervor just to drag their rusted hooks into his flesh, the Splicers with the wrench and rolling pin tried to force him against one of the pillars.

Rabbit watched the fight with interest and bated breath, trying to get a better vantage point as they shifted to the next grate to try and follow along with the struggle below.

The newcomer ducked and dodged strikes, a hook grazing across his arm as he struggled against the five Splicers, a shotgun blast knocking one of the other Spiders to the ground when it got in the way. He didn’t seem experienced, but his reflexes were faster than any of the other arrivals Rabbit had seen, blocking a bludgeon from the Splicer with the rolling pin and grabbing it. He pulled the Splicer closer with surprising ease while side-stepping another Spider attack, his back facing Rabbit’s grate.

They leaned forward towards the grate and blinked as the rolling pin Splicer was pushed to the side, clutching its neck and screaming while the newcomer turned to face the others. Confused and distracted from the continued fight, they frowned at the shoved away Splicer, wondering why it let itself be shoved to the ground.

Rabbit’s eyes widened and a shiver went down their spine as the Splicer writhed for a few seconds before going rigid with its hands still at its neck, the screaming dying out as it stiffened.

The sound of the shotgun tore them from their shock, gaze snapping back to the newcomer as he stumbled back. They almost thought the blast missed him but fresh crimson was sprayed across the ground and as he pulled a hand away from his side they saw blood splatter to the ground. He just turned to the Splicer with the shotgun.

The newcomer ran forward even as the Spiders continued to try and rake hooks against his skin, jolting to the side to avoid the shotgun shell to the chest and grabbing the barrel of the shotgun before the Splicer holding it could pull away.

They watched the newcomer wrench the shotgun from the Splicers hold, throwing it to the side and proceeding to use the addict as a meat-shield against one of the Spiders, spinning around with the Splicer in his grasp to let the Spiders hook dig into its spine. The Splicer cried out in gurgled pain, struggling against the newcomer as he shifted it to take a blow from the wrench wielding Splicer to the back as well.

From their vantage point in the vents they barely saw something extend from the newcomers mouth and latch onto the collarbone of the Splicer in his hold, trying to identify what attached both the newcomer and Splicer as he continued to use the screaming addict as a meat-shield for several seconds.

Rabbit wasn’t able to discern what it was before it detached and disappeared back into the man’s mouth, the newcomer throwing the Splicer in his grasp at the remaining attackers.

They barely paid attention to the rest of the fight below, barely watched the newcomer as he continued to dodge and weave among the remaining Splicers. Their mind raced as he continued to stand and fight where he should have been dead, thinking of the deformed abominations that would rarely flee the Medical Pavilion.

Eventually the clamor of metal and shouting died along with almost every Splicer below.

In the aftermath the newcomer stood among the fresh bodies with one of the Spiders struggling weakly in his hold. Without the constant motion of dodging and fighting they could see that the newcomer was attached to the Spider by whatever appendage extended from his mouth like a hidden proboscis.

Rabbit could only assume that he – IT – was feeding in the bloodshed.

Hesitance and resolve fought within them as the newcomer dropped the Spider and stepped over to another one of the bodies and picked it off the floor, their hands twitching in confliction.

They didn’t know how or when it made it to the entrance hall or why the other Splicers were treating it like a normal arrival, but they had to stop it here. It didn’t matter that the thing didn’t seem to know its way around the halls or that it was traveling further into Rapture, they just knew that it was too dangerous to let try to reach the surface. It probably stumbled to the entrance hall and figured out that it couldn’t leave by the Bathysphere system.

Rabbit shook their head clear of contradictory thoughts, trying to ignore the way their mind thought of bright lights and cold metal beneath them, of leather bindings and their own reflection in an oversized monocle.

Their breathing shook, reaching for the edge of the grate with one hand as the other reached for their waistband. They had to kill it here.

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The stench of rot had gotten worse the further he walked down the metal hallways, permeating the entirety of his nasal passage and was only undercut by the smoke of a random fire he’d come across along his trek down the hall. He was certain the only way to rid the smell was by blowing apart the entire city and letting the miles of open ocean smother the remnants.

Having felt like he was being watched since coming across the first psychopath, Syrus wasn’t surprised when the cramped halls gave way to a larger lobby and several more humans tried to get the jump on him. The sheer number of feral humans and the use of a shotgun had caught him off guard, though. It would have been a more painful fight if he hadn’t fed on the humans he’d come across earlier, though he didn’t hesitate to drink from the fresh bodies that littered the room now as his body stitched flesh and skin back together.

Still, he grimaced as an intense shudder of disgust ran through him, dropping the drained corpse with blood just as repulsive as the rest and gave it a look of disdain.

The pungent unnatural taste of something chemical overshadowed the flavor of iron and remained as he retracted his tongue, feeling most of the length coil behind his ribs. There was a strain in his chest from how much he’d gorged himself, but he could already feel his body work to push the shrapnel from the buckshot to his side. If he wanted to keep from permanent wounds he needed to take as much blood as he could when he could.

Syrus looked up from the body at his feet to get a better look of the room without the distraction of homicidal humans, licking his lips in distaste to try and get rid of the lingering taste. He briefly thought of shifting in case he continued to be attacked but he knew the ever-present feeling of being trapped would worsen.

He shifted to start walking and heard something behind him, jolting to the side on instinct and cried out when the movement earned him a gunshot to the shoulder.

The bullet would have gone through his heart if he hadn’t moved.

A hand darted to press against the fresh wound as he tried to shake off the ringing in his ears and spun to face the new attacker, barely managing to jerk out of the way of another gunshot. Blinking through the white-hot pain that radiated through his shoulder at the action he bared his teeth at the human in a rabbit-themed mask who was pointing a pistol at him. They also wore semi-formal clothes, though in far better shape than the others.

They didn’t shout any insults at him, but he also wasn’t in the mood to wait.

Snarling, Syrus reached down and grabbed the corpse beside himself and raised it as a shield while ignoring the strain it put on his injuries, rushing forward at the new human to try and end this quickly. He saw them visibly hesitate and braced to bowl them over in his charge, wanting to take advantage of their indecision.

But they were quick as well, making the small snap movement needed to change their aim and he let out a pained shout at the explosive pain that blossomed in his calf.

It missed his bone but still caused him to stagger, seeing red as his already frayed nerves were overwhelmed by retaliative fury. Growling and sucking a pained breath through his teeth, his grip on the corpse shifted before he threw the dead weight toward the human, forcing them to dodge out of the way to avoid being pinned. A click reached his ears as the human pulled the hammer back on their pistol, but he reached them before they could regain their stance and aim.

Syrus was quick to grab the humans wrists and forced the barrel of the pistol upward. He felt them strain against him to pull their arms back down, baring his teeth and squeezed their wrists hard enough that he almost broke bone. Their grip quickly released on the gun and it clattered loudly to the ground.

The humans struggles turned to try and pull from his grasp, but he ignored the attempts to get away and opened his jaws.

Full from the blood of the other humans, he just intended to paralyze them and leave them here. He wasn’t even able to slip out the end of his tongue past his lips before his body was suddenly flooded with electricity and his vision distorted from the excruciating pain of an indeterminate amount of voltage coursing through him, the only warning a faint crackle.

With his muscles convulsing involuntarily, it took Syrus moments of agony before he was able to force himself to let go, practically throwing the human away from him and stumbling away from them.

He tensed as his body continued to twitch against his will for several seconds, gaze snapping to the human that pushed themself to their feet, blue arcs of electricity dancing on their skin. Narrowing his eyes from his initial shock, he bared his teeth as the human turned to face him and took a more defensive pose.

“What? You want my ADAM too?” Syrus snarled the rhetorical question angrily, braced for the human to attack him swinging like the others. The now askew rabbit mask stared blankly at him, offering no response.

Somehow the lack of response further incensed him.

There was a slight tilt of the humans head that caught his attention, glancing toward where he assumed they were potentially looking and saw the glint of the pistol on the ground just a couple feet away from them. He lunged forward as the human made a break for the weapon.

The human reached the gun before he could stop them, grabbing it and turning to face him but he was on them before they could try and aim. Grabbing their wrists again, he forced their hands up as a gunshot rang out toward the ceiling, his ears ringing once more. They struggled against him but he was easily able to hold them in place, ignoring the tingling of electricity as he wrenched the pistol from their grasp again.

“Why do you all insist on fighting me,” he snarled, throwing the gun to the side and grunting in pain as another wave of electricity traveled through the hand holding their wrists. Maybe he WOULD drink their blood to offset the nerve damage his body would have to repair.

Syrus squinted down at the human through the pain and was surprised when they shifted closer to him. Before he could think clearly through the crackling disorientation of electricity, they suddenly dead weighted in his hold. Assuming they were trying to take advantage of the electricity to deadweight from his grip, he was quick to try and tighten his grasp with his free hand, caught off guard when they pulled their legs forward and kicked him in the face and chest.

Coupled with an even stronger burst of voltage, he cried out as he was forced to release them, staggering back and reaching a hand up to his nose. It wasn’t pushed into his skull, but it was absolutely broken, feeling crooked cartilage under his touch.

He felt hot blood drip down his face and tasted it on his tongue, his palm and fingers stained red when he pulled away from his face. Hearing footsteps, he looked towards the noise to see the human darting away, not even bothering with trying to look for the discarded pistol that he had thrown aside.

There was only a moment before the shock gave way to fury and Syrus lunged after them.

He caught up easily, roughly shoving them to the ground and causing their rabbit mask to finally come off from the impact to the floor. They tried to push themself up but Syrus was quick to descend upon the human and pin them down with ease.

A startlingly normal human face contorted in pain, more electricity attacking him as he grabbed them by the throat and ignored their hands scrabbling uselessly at his own. He pushed through the voltage coursing through his veins, absentmindedly noting that it was weaker than before as he opened his mouth again.

Frustrated and tired, he just wanted to leave this underwater maze of homicidal humans. He no longer felt merciful with his patience frayed by several altercations. It would be so easy to just snap the neck of the human beneath him or choke them, but he wanted the satisfaction of dragging this out, wanted to take out all his current frustration and ire on them by making them suffer.

The humans eyes widened in fear when his lips parted, as if they knew what was about to happen. They tried to push themself up beneath him, their smaller stature and weaker nature doing nothing to budge him from his position. Still, he growled at the futile attempt in irritation, tongue partially slipped out as he lifted them off the floor briefly by the grip he had on their throat and slammed their head back to the floor with a sharp thud. Not enough to break their skull, but enough to hurt.

Syrus scowled as he paused, unsure of why he stopped until a part of him realized that the human hadn’t made a noise. He saw their mouth open, saw their eyes shut in pain from the impact and even saw the electrical impulses arcing from them to him weaken… but he didn’t hear anything.

Expression shifting to a confused and wary frown, he slowly retracted his tongue as he stared at the human blinking away a couple pained tears. Keeping his hand on their throat loosely, he used his other hand to grab the wrist of one of their hands that had been trying weakly to pull him off while they gasped in a breath, watched their brow furrow in scared confusion through a bout of what he could only assume was coughing.

They tried to pull their wrist free with weak electrical pulses, but he ignored them and brought the humans forearm up to his face. Not looking away, he opened his mouth again and saw them stiffen beneath of him before he bit down, feeling his sharper canines break skin.

The humans face contorted into a silent yelp of pain as they tried again to pull away from him.

“You can’t speak…” Syrus said in quiet realization, any leftover indignation giving way to surprise. He let go of their arm and they were quick to pull it to their chest, giving another go at escaping him.

The man let them, taking his hand off their throat and shifting aside as they scrambled out from underneath of him, watched them retreat several feet away until they stopped against a pillar and stared at him with confliction. Obviously, they were distrustful of him. Rightfully so. Yet something kept them from running off into the shadows, and that confused him.

“I suppose that’s why you didn’t answer.” He spoke softly, a whisper compared to his furious shouting earlier, but the human still flinched. He wasn’t surprised but he was trying to not give them more reason to run off. Raising his palms up in an attempt of good will, he added, “I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

The human narrowed their eyes at him in a glare, not moving from their spot.

Syrus glanced around while trying to think of how to set the human at ease. While obviously more intelligent and lucid than the other humans he’d come across, he was still essentially dealing with a scared animal. Even if he couldn’t get them to trust him, he might be able to get a couple answers from them somehow if he made them feel safer, and his gaze fell on something that could help with that.

“Look, I won’t hurt you anymore,” he stated, very slowly getting up to his feet. Neither of them broke eye contact as he carefully shuffled across the room until he saw the glint he was looking for in the corner of his eye. Kneeling, he grabbed the pistol off the ground and saw the human stiffen at realizing what he had.

He didn’t hesitate to toss the gun toward the human and ignored the loud clatter of metal on metal while gauging their reaction.

They jolted and glanced between the gun and him as it stopped a few feet away from where they sat, but when he didn’t move they took the chance to cautiously scoot across the floor to the weapon. Picking it up, they examined the pistol for several seconds, likely trying to see if it was too damaged to use. From the way their shoulders relaxed slightly, it seemed to be in a satisfactory condition for them.

“I have some questions,” Syrus tried and succeeded in getting the humans attention, watching them carefully as they snapped their attention in his direction in case they decided to use the reacquired weapon against him. Thankfully, instead of pointing the pistol toward him, they tucked it into their waistband. He realized how ill-fitting the off-white dress shirt they wore was as the folds of it covered the handle of the gun.

The human barely looked away from him as they stood up, walking over to the mask that had fallen on the ground and sliding it back over their face. He hoped that they’d somehow respond to say that they would be willing to give him answers but instead all they did after covering their face with that blank rabbit stare was point at the man.

He frowned, not liking the motion, and asked, “What about me?”

The rabbit mask tilted slightly to the side, the silence continuing. It looked almost like they were also realizing the obstacle of being unable to communicate as they potentially mulled over how to say what they wanted. After several seconds, they shifted from pointing at him to the entrance of the room he’d come through.

“That’s the way I came from, yes,” Syrus replied slowly. He felt like it’d be easier to decipher what the human wanted if they weren’t obscuring their face, keeping him from being able to see by expression if he was off. He could tell by the slump of their shoulders that they weren’t happy though. Getting up from his knelt position, he started slowly walking toward them and began to add, “I understand you can’t speak, but perhaps-.”

He stopped when the humans hand flew to their waistband where they had tucked the pistol away, putting his hands up to try and placate them.

“I swear, I mean you no harm.” He spoke softly and resisted the urge to add that they had attacked him first. Their fingers still twitched and he partially worried that they’d attack him again. He doubted that they expected to win, but he didn’t doubt they’d do their best to kill him if they still saw him as a threat. Almost frustrated, he questioned, “How can I prove it to you?”

He’d already given back their weapon as an olive branch and was trying his best to not get too close to spook them off, what more could he do to try and reassure them?

Syrus was wondering how long he was willing to wait for any sort of reaction from the human before he either took matters into his own hands or completely left the room when they suddenly moved. This time, instead of pointing, they mimed taking something out of their pocket and opening it. When he just furrowed his brow in confusion, they repeated the motion a couple times. Still confused, he reached into his pockets to see if anything had survived the crash with him and pulled out the soggy remnants of his passport.

His wallet must have fallen out at some point while the passport and the fabric of his pocket clung together. But it seemed satisfactory, the human seemingly perking up at the sight of him pulling the book out.

He idly wondered the repercussions of losing his human identification as he threw the book toward the human but was far less concerned about it than he was about leaving. The human walked to where the book landed cautiously and picked up the passport, carefully peeling apart the drenched pages.

“My name’s Syrus.”

The human didn’t give an indication that they heard him in the first place, blank rabbit stare trained toward the contents of the passport in their hands. But whatever they were looking for it seemed like they found. The rabbit mask looked back up at him as they tossed the book back, something he caught with ease.

Pocketing his passport once more, he asked as gently as he could, “What’s your name?”

They stiffened noticeably at his inquiry, making him worry that he’d somehow overstepped a boundary he didn’t know was there. Thankfully they still didn’t run off, but they looked uncomfortable at his line of questioning and took a couple steps to the side, so he tried to reword it.

“What should I call you,” Syrus asked, hoping that they’d be willing to go along with it. He noticed they continued shifting away from him slightly, tensed to try and chase after them if they tried to run off without answering any questions. As they shifted between light and shadow, he noticed the discoloration on their skin where he had pinned them or held them in place and paused, taking a breath to temper his impatience and frustration. “Just let me know what to call you.”

The human remained frozen for a few moments, tensed as though they were more willing to bolt than answer him. But eventually, they slowly raised a hand and pointed to the mask that adorned their face.

“Rabbit?” Syrus asked for confirmation. He saw them shift on their feet nervously before nodding slowly. He made himself nod back, taking a step from the human and saw them stiffen before relaxing when they realized he was moving away from them, not closer. “I hope you’ll be willing to help me later then, Rabbit.”

The human – Rabbit – seemed confused. He would be too. But they recognized that he was giving them an out, another attempt of good will.