A Different Lighthouse

Chapter 3

"Hmm?"

"The Splicers...was it the plasmids that drove them crazy like that?"

Armitage took his usual time before he answered. "Sort of. The real culprit is the ADAM."

"And what's that?" Ben pressed. Always with the half-answers.

"It's the base material that plasmids are made of. I don't pretend to understand the science of it, but modified ADAM is what makes a plasmid, and it's addictive as hell," Armitage explained. "Like I told ya before, just a little won't do ya any harm. These people just went too wild."

Ben chewed the inside of his lip, closing his palm over the injection site on his wrist, still a little sore and pink. "Seems like everyone in the city went too wild, then."

"Not everyone, but most yes," Armitage murmured. "Don't worry about it, Ben. We're gettin' outta here."

They backtracked through the main foyer where they'd first arrived, Armitage leading them to the other end past the reception desk.

"Dameron's office is back this way," he explained. "We'll get his key and get the hell out."

"Sounds easy enough," Ben snorted. "Which means it probably isn't."

Armitage smirked, sending him a sidelong glance. Ben smothered the urge to laugh loudly. So stupid, considering the situation, but Armitage made him feel like everything was going to be alright.

"You'd be right," Armitage confirmed. "Like I said, he's probably lost it by now. We might need to kill him to get the key."

Ben frowned to himself, watching where his feet were going as he tried not to trip over dead bodies and debris. "Great."

He felt eyes on him but didn't bring attention to it. He'd learned quickly that asking Armitage questions was about as productive as just waiting for him to say whatever he was going to say.

"Ever killed before Rapture, Ben? You seem to know how to handle a gun," he pointed out.

Ben opened his mouth to answer, then frowned. He'd wanted to say 'no', but his mind came up with brief flashes - a shooting range, a pistol too large for his tiny hands, a golden puppy lying limply in his lap.

"I...no," he said stiffly, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs. "No. I haven't. I learned how to shoot from my dad."

Armitage stared at him for a long moment, questioning, before nodding once and looking away.

They approached the door that led further into Medical, drawing their weapons as they prepared to pass through. Ben blinked once, his eyes growing tired (he wondered what time it was) then gasped and came to a jolting stop as he saw a ghostly woman. She pounded on the door with her fists, sobbing and slumping wretchedly.

"You promised me pretty, Dameron! You promised me pretty! Now look at me! LOOK AT ME!"

She fell to her knees, and then disappeared in a white mist.

"What the hell was that?" Ben gasped, his hand pressed over his racing heart.

"What? I didn't see anything."