La Vie en Rose- Chapter 3

La vie en rose- Chapter 3:

Chapter 2: http://pastebin.com/4GMuWWhm

She and Robert flew through the clouds on wings unseen, lighter than air. She felt the cool mist breeze past her face and through her hair each time as they ascended. They went up, until they had finally broken through the clouds. There, they floated, the sun shining above them, with fields of peach coloured clouds beneath their feet. Off in the distance, they saw a beautiful and magnificent city, floating on enormous canvas balloons, with rows of white marbled buildings and black tiled roof tops, draped in the red, white and blue flags.

Except each time they flew close to the city, just as they could start to see people wondering along its streets, they would start burning. Rosalind never saw herself burning, but she could see Robert. The features of his face would melt like wax each time, and drip away. His jacket would turn into bloody red strips, and start fluttering in the breeze as they burnt. His hands melting, her grip would slip away, and she'd fall, screaming. She would fall through the clouds that they first rose through, and as she fell through under the clouds, she would see a lightning storm around her. Looking down, the surface of the ocean always greeted her. She would flail around screaming, before holding out her hands at the last minute to break her fall. As the surface of the water flew towards her, she heard a monstrous screech. And then she woke.

Rosalind stirred under the cold damp sheets as she woke. Opening her eyes, she expected to see sunlight through the blinds. Instead, she saw darkness. The same blue abyss that had always awaited her after her dreams of the sky. She had the same one again. Turning over and sitting up on the edge of the bed, Rosalind wiped her hands on the legs of her jumpsuit. Her grey outfit had rotted and fallen apart some time ago, like everything else in the city. She had taken this outfit from an empty locker in a bathysphere garage, when she first started looking for ways out of the city. Now she wore the work clothes of a woman named Michelle. Whether or not she was alive to care Rosalind didn't know. That was also when she had to kill again, as 3 surviving mechanics tried to have their way with her when she was leaving. By then, her speed and strength was already above that of a normal person's thanks to the ADAM, and she and her meat hooks made short work of them.

Rosalind wasn't sure how much time has passed since Robert left her. It could have been 2 months, or 2 weeks. It was hard to tell with no daylight, here at the bottom of the ocean. She rubbed her temples, and felt the clammy lumpy skin on the side of her face. She used to have such soft skin. Until she started taking ADAM.  Now, her youth had left her. Before she had everything. Her skills, intelligence, eternal youth, and Robert. Now, there she was in a filthy cold apartment on a damp mildew scented bed in the home of another of her victims.

 Yes, he had been a clever one. When he heard someone in his house he took his shotgun, and cleared each room, checking the corners. However, he hadn't been smart enough to look up at the ceiling for the figure with her hooks buried in the wooden ceiling trim. That's when she got the drop on him. He didn't put up too much of a fight. Not when she buried one of the hooks into his back, and slipped another one up under his jaw as he fell. She still remembered the look of terror in his eyes, and that sickening tearing of meat as she tore his jaw away from his face, and how the light left his eyes as she caved in his skull with his own jaw bone. And judging by the growth on that man's face, he carried ADAM.

After opening up his throat, Rosalind found the specks, floating around in his blood like gold dust. She drank hungrily, sucking him dry through the wound in his throat. That was all the nourishment she could take. The broken tooth in her mouth she got after her first fight had become infected, forming a massive lump of abscess inside her mouth. Above, the slash in her cheek had healed badly, leaving a lumpy scar across the side of her face. On the other side of her face, a huge tumour had sprouted on her lips and spread to her cheeks, making it nearly impossible to chew any solid foods. Just the action of eating whatever food she could scavenge would cause her agony. It was not long after that the pain of hunger had made her desperate enough to seek nourishment through the blood and ADAM of the other survivors.

She also found that she had taken to the shadows well. This was mainly due to the memories of the other that now lived in her mind. Rosalind learnt from the other how to become a hunter of men, how to sneak up on them and bring them down in one strike. Sometimes she crept, sometimes she jumped into the air, hooked herself onto whatever she could find, or simply waited in the shadows until it was the right time to strike. And with each kill, she also absorbed the powers they had in their ADAM. One person made Rosalind run faster, one made her footsteps quieter. One made her stronger, and one made her skin and bone harden into an armoured shell, strong enough to stop some bullets.

 Ever since she drank the ADAM from the needle of the little sister, she had been dealing with the voice and memories of another person in her head. It was as if she had two souls crammed into her body. Somedays she saw visions of a city floating in the sky, just like in her dreams, except this view let her see it from much closer. Although now each time she saw the city, rather than be filled with wonder, she could only feel guilt, without knowing why. Eventually, the guilt gnawed away at her, and devolved into rage.
 Why did she have to suffer it? Why is the other doing this to her? Can't the other just for once shut up? She was eventually able to convince herself that it was the other who remembered the city, and the other who felt responsible. The ADAM obviously came from the one who saw the floating cities, and who did the bad things that made her feel guilty. Finally, it became hard for her to distinguish where her memories ended and other's life began.

Rosalind got to her feet. The thought of escaping the city was the only thing driving her on. She would find a working bathysphere, go back to the surface, and find a doctor to fix her face. She could be beautiful again, and after that? She'll find the flying city. Find out why the other felt so much guilt for it, and finally silence the voice. Although the search had currently been fruitless, as she ran back and forth across Rapture, not being able to find one working Bathysphere. Maybe today she'll get lucky. The thought made her rise out of bed. Her stomach growled. She was hungry. The man she had killed died 2 days ago, lying in the bathtub rotting. She would have to find nourishment soon, before the hunger weakened her.

Walking past a mirror, something caught her eye. In the darkness of the room, she saw another woman standing in front of her. A woman, with porcelain pale skin, hair as dark as the night sky, and sapphire blue eyes stared back at her in the shadows beyond the mirror. Rosalind leapt back in shock, and yelled at the reflection of the other.

"Who are you?" Rosalind demanded. The other simply looked at her blankly, although with a hint of sorrow in her eyes. After a while of the two of them staring at each other in the darkness, the other spoke.

"He's coming. You better get ready for him. You might know who he is. Or you don't. You probably never bothered looking that far ahead. Oh, and after you find him, give your regards to Robert"

Rosalind stood petrified, looking at the woman in the mirror. Robert. That was a name that had haunted her for her entire time in the darkness. The only man she loved snatched from her, and who left her abandoned and alone in the dark. How did she know about him? How dare she use his name to hurt her? Feeling her rage suddenly boil over, Rosalind picked an ash tray up from coffee table and threw it at the mirror, hitting the woman square in the chest. Silver lines crossed over her body. Bits of her started falling away to the ground as silver knives. first her legs, then her arms.

"I don't blame you for any of this, Rosalind" the reflection spoke again. The pieces of her fell away one by one, until only her face remained. "You're still a good person". The last piece of the mirror fell to the floor, shattering as it hit. Rosalind stared at the oak frame, in shock. What was the woman talking about? How did she know her memories? Rosalind felt dizzy, as the room started tilting around her. Her thoughts stirring tumultuously inside her head. Tilting her head upwards and breathing deeply, she saw something.

Through the skylight and in the darkness of the Atlantic, a black shape descended towards the city. As it green light of the city illuminated it, Rosalind saw that it was silver. It was a tail of an aeroplane. One that must have crashed into the ocean above them.
A screech of static caused Rosalind to jump with a start. Looking to her side, she saw a box with some dials and buttons on it. On the table where she picked the ashtray  from was a short wave radio. Rosalind cautiously approached it. She swore it wasn't there when she came in. It was as if the thing had just suddenly appeared by itself.

The radio crackled once again crackled with static, which soon became words. Over the radio, Rosalind heard voices. One, a man with a  thick Irish brogue, and another, higher pitched with an American midwest accent.

"..light house lit up like hellfire...looks like some sorta plane crash..."
"we're in the middle of the Atlantic ocean...how could it..."
"Dunno. You best get over there. And be quick about it. The splicers are coming"
"How you know the splicers are coming?"
"We got a bathysphere coming down....that means we got visitors"

Rosalind's pulse quickened. A bathysphere, an actual working bathysphere coming down? That would give her a way to leave the city. After god knows how long she will finally leave! Rosalind took some deep breaths, and started chuckling to herself as she thought of what she'd do once she was back on the surface. Find a cure, find a way to exorcise the other from her mind, and see the world. Maybe see Paris. She had always like the city, ever since she had read Les Miserables when she was young.

As Rosalind regained her composure, the thought of the other chimed in. For some reason, hearing the Irishman speaking for the first time had filled her with a dull anger. As if his voice was enough to make her uncomfortable. Like he had wronged her, even though she can't quite remember why. Another bout of dizziness hit Rosalind, and she saw, or rather felt visions of the Irishman's death. A violent death, of being stabbed to death surrounded by the patter of little feet around him. Whatever that was about, she now had a way out. With a triumphant laugh, she quickly sprinted out of the apartment towards the visitors centre.

Chapter 4: http://pastebin.com/GQvKgN7r