Cryoshock (A Bioshock Fan-fiction)

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Hi! I'd just like to take this moment to inform you all that I made the decision to write this fan-fiction after playing both games, and awaiting the hotly anticipated Bioshock: Infinite.

Cryoshock is set after the events of Bioshock 2 and continues the story of Rapture through the eyes of a surviving civilian named Jason Locke.


Jason flickered his eyes, batting them slowly as he tried to get a sense of feeling back in his fingers, his suave black dinner jacket had been stained with blood. His blood. Slowly he arched his back in an attempt to sit up, he felt an aching as he did so which was probably the effect of an awkward position being held for such an extended period of time.. Just HOW long had he been in here? He thought.

Eventually the feeling began to return to his fingers and he gazed at his wrists confused, there were marks, burns of some kind as if his hands had been tied. Suddenly he became aware of an intense cold and he looked up from his corner, the ceiling and walls were covered in sheets of ice and the various cardboard boxes that littered the floor were giving off trails of frost.

A confused look washed over his face and his legs ached as he stumbled to the door, fumbling for the handle. It was cold to the touch and when he motioned to open the door it was frozen shut. Jason scratched his head as he continued to try the door, but no matter how many times he pulled the door wouldn't budge. He parked himself against the wall and put his head in his now warmed up hands, his thoughts travelling from one subject to another. As he traversed his thoughts he began to wonder why he even came to Rapture in the first place. Was it the bright lights and casinos? Or the promise of political and artistic freedom. Art wasn't really his fortae, he was unable to motivate himself to produce any sort of masterpiece whether it was a light opera or a painting. However he once worked as a musician performing in various bars in downtown Manhatton, small clubs which didn't go much beyond the regular 2-3 song setlist, not much pay for an ambitious and honest man like himself.

He scoffed at his own thoughts, thinking himself beyond such trivial debates. Jason lacked the commitment to hold a political opinion often thinking that if he had been better educated he might have run for presidency himself! Again he scoffed at his ludicrous thoughts, there wasn't much chance of running for presidency down in this shithole at least not while Andrew Ryan and Sofia Lamb were vying for power. He remembered New Years Eve 1960 quite fondly and he smiled to himself, this was the day that Frank Fontaine had been killed along with a number of his thugs in a shootout outside his apartment in Apollo Heights. Proudly reminiscing about himself being part of the shootout on Andrew Ryans' side, although his allegiance with Ryan didn't last much longer as the last thing he could remember was having a shotgun smashed into his jaw by a man he once identified as comrade. He rolled his eyes as his thoughts turned to Ryan and Lamb, it occured to him that they once might have been a couple, each was self-righteous in their own ways and they both were power hungry leeches, at least in Jason's opinion. His opinion of Ryan had of course changed when he chucked him into this Freezer.. Or storage cupboard with ice.. he hadn't decided just yet.

Lamb was certainly more tolerable though Jason never expressed any fondness towards her, she was liberally the better idealist with her constant speeches in the Rapture Times about how she wanted REAL freedom for the citizens of Rapture as opposed to the twisted lies of Mr. Ryan.

Hopelessly he looked around the room, searching for a way out of this cramped freezer, he noticed a vent cover screwed to the wall and in the corner there was rusted red toolbox. His hopes had been renewed and he grinned as he raced for the toolbox hoping to find a screwdriver, however his face dropped as he rummaged through the the assorted tools like a child with a toybox. A rather grim realisation came to him as he chucked the box across the room in a fit of anger, that he may well starve without getting so much farther than the spot he woke up on.. Most people would give up at this point but Jason being typical Jason wasn't to be phased by a mere sheet of metal.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a single photograph of a man and woman, the man was himself. The lady dressed all smart in glittering white, her dress adorned with many patterns and symbols. Of course this was the woman whom he would be married if he hadn't gambled away his small fortune on a drunken venture! He held much love, not for her but for the feeling she gave when they were together, it wasn't long before she took off leaving only a small picture which sat in Jason's hand. On the back of the crude card was a name and a date, even though it had been scribbled over he knew what it read: 'Jason & Ruby, Summer 1957'

Strangely enough whenever Jason required luck he would take out this photo and beg forgiveness for his dumb antics, after all if he hadn't been such a jerk he might not be stuck in this sinking tub! Its not that he expected her to come running back but he had no doubt that his fortunes might improve if she did.


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