Rapture Noir: Pursuit of Happiness

Elizabeth slumped down to the floor. Her ragged breathing echoed through the dark corridor. Was she being followed? She drew her legs to her chest and assessed the situation. The unaccountable feeling of being pursued, of being watched, had plagued her for days. And now this pursuer, a man with a camera following her to Booker's apartment. She can't stay here, but hopefully lost her pursuer in these tunnels and work back around to Pauper's Drop.

Navigating the maze of Pauper Drop's back alleyways doubts began to surface. Had she even been followed? What if, in a fit of paranoia she had simply imagined the pursuer? Could she afford to take that chance?

A metallic wail terminated the thought. A Big Daddy? Had she really wandered so deep into the bowels of Rapture?

An impish tittering could be heard over the heavy footsteps of the Big Daddy. A Gatherer, one of Rapture's little ADAM factories. Curiosity got the better of Elizabeth and she ventured forward, taking cover when she sighted the two figures.

"Can you hear the angels, Mr. Bubbles? Flap, flap, flap go the wings." The Little Sister sang as she lead the lumbering brute by the hand like a child might lead a doting parent. The seeming acquiescence of the beast struck her as endearing in it's own way.

The girl scampered towards Elizabeth's direction, seemingly unaware of her presence. "Hurry daddy, I want to play!" She cried enthusiastically.

Against her every instinct Elizabeth brought herself out of cover and extended a hand to the girl. This wasn't just a Little Sister. There was something about this girl. Her face, her eyes, they were so familiar. The Little Sister looked at Elizabeth with recognition in her eyes, but then recoiled in horror.

With surprising speed the behemoth imposed himself in front of the girl. The beast's brutal drill roared to life and it's formerly nature was replaced with an furious anger. She had to get out of here, had to get back to Pauper's drop and prove that what she saw was wrong. But part of her knew exactly what she'd find. Behind those glowing eyes was...

In a reckless haze Elizabeth dashed through a tear into Pauper's Drop, no longer heeding her potential pursuer or even fully realizing that she had found her way back. Plastering nearly every wall were missing persons posters; Little girls, all. Masha Lutz, Adelaide Tobet, Elizabeth's panic became more visible with each poster she saw. Erratically she moved from poster to poster. At last she glimpsed the sight she had been dreading. A small white piece of paper. 'Eleanor Lamb, missing.' Elizabeth was frozen in place, gripping the paper. Trying desperately to comprehend the terrible implication of what she was seeing. It was true. Eleanor was gone, missing like the others.

It all made sense now. How could she have been so blind? The missing girls were the Little Sisters. Maybe part of her didn't want to realize it, maybe she was too focused on her own problems to see how far Rapture had fallen. Elizabeth felt sick to her stomach. Things were going so wrong so fast.

Suddenly she was jerked back into reality by a frail hand touching her shoulder. A woman, rail-thin and smelling of cigarette smoke gave Elizabeth a concerned look through her coke-bottle glasses.

"Is she yours?" She asked, pointing to the picture of Eleanor.

"I-no, she's not." Elizabeth shook her head, struggling for words. "It's complicated."

The woman points to a picture of a small red-haired child. Her green eyes perfectly match the woman. "That one's mine."

Elizabeth's gaze dropped to the woman's feet. "I'm sorry to hear that." How many women were there in Rapture that shared this woman's story? How many more would there be?

"It's...well, it's not fine. But you've just got to hold out hope. Maybe do what I do, check the orphanages." She replied, handing Elizabeth a cigarette.

"Orphanages?" Elizabeth asked between drags on her cigarette.

The woman exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Those Little Sister orphanages. I mean, between you and me I don't think they're on the up and up. I don't trust Ryan."

"No, no I don't either." Elizabeth replied, shaking her head.

The woman jumped suddenly, checking her watch. "Listen, my husband is expecting me home." Extending her hand the woman continued. "Name is Esmé."

Elizabeth returned the gesture, gripping her hand firmly. "Elizabeth."

"Maybe we'll see each other around. Maybe keep an eye out for my little girl?" Esmé asked with a hint of desperation in her voice.

"Sure." Elizabeth smiled sadly and nodded. As Esmé turned to leave Elizabeth stopped her. "Before you go I just wanted to say thanks for the smoke, and the talk. I'm feeling better already."

"It's good to know you aren't alone out there." Esmé replied with a smile. "I'll keep a look out for little Eleanor."

Elizabeth watched impassively as Esmé stepped into the street. Little girls taken from their homes, taken from their families. Taken and twisted to suit some man's ideology. Elizabeth gritted her teeth and choked back the fury she felt rising inside of her.