Haven't written in more than a week, so I'm putting a lot more detail into the way this chapter is written. Put a lot more focus into making the first half sound like a freeform poem. I'll work on updating this story more, but do know that I will NEVER drop this story. Hope you all enjoy : )
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"A man chooses, a slave obeys. OBEY!" - Andrew Ryan, BioShock
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Should you have let her out that easily? She could prove to be a liability.
Alexandra takes a second to think back on the recent situation, mind as usual playing tricks on her typical thought process, muddying it until it's covered in filth. Yet an arm breaks free, and so does her mouth, already gasping for breath, gagging on the sludge around her. She eventually sputters out a response.
"She was like a little sister to me, and even after what happened between us I still believe so, even if she might not. I had someone I looked up to as a sister as well. I'd be angry in her situation, too... Though she never could stop talking. She probably would've accidentally ratted me out by now had I still been in her life."
Alexandra reminisces on her past while absentmindedly walking towards Prosperity Street Promenade, mind lost in the intricacies of past relationships, now foreign after years of disconnect. She vehemently believed that she would be able to patch the shattered relationship with her friend piece by piece. What she uses as binding, though, will determine whether that connection strengthens, or fades into the spiraling pit of time. The silt burying her consciousness alive could work. after all,it's everywhere.
Another arm, and her head, now free from the muck encompassing her essence. A scream of anguish sounds. Alexandra WRITHES in unbridled panic.
"She believes I... No. I'm not gonna open that can of worms once again."
They squirm around her as she digs her flesh out of the ground, now halfway out. Listening around her, there was no wildlife, no life in general, and nothing to prove it even existed, just the sound of her choked coughs and heavy breathing. It was as if everything around her ceased to live, earthly brown and pitch black the only colors her mind could comprehend, most color sucked out of her surroundings, and the bit of it left mixed until it was nothing but homogenous slop.
Her body was freed, and finally, Alexandra, out of the mire, without hesitation, ran.
"It still tortures me to this day, more than my deranged family ever could."
Accidentally bumping into someone, she still pays no mind to her surroundings, and continues on with her sprint down memory boardwalk, each old step in the mired wooden planks dredging faded nightmares from her caustic mind, fishing out each and every last detail for the sole purpose of gutting her mental state.
The woman is gone now, and Alexandra slows to a stop at the end of the pier, looking back at the abyss following her... and jumped into the ocean below.
Taking an overly deep breath, Alexandra refocuses on her surroundings and stops herself from bumping into a streetlight, walking around it and continuing on her path.
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If only the Cap was here...
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Under the sweltering radiance of the sun, Alexandra, now on her motorbike, eventually reached below the same spot where she usually watches the sunset, on the Vespucci Hotel rooftop, overlooking the beach filled with the same self-obsessed souls spewing the same ignorant drivel. Even still, it's somehow calming watching the world around you continue.
Walking down the alley and around the corner the darkness of said alley permeating the area, Alexandra puts her hands in her pockets, but inside the denim was what felt like a piece of paper. She didn't remember this being in her pockets, so either she's learned how to sleepwalk, or...
She rushes to pull out the now crumpled note:
| Fuck, you really shouldn't have shouldn't have come out of hiding
| as usual, you picked the worst possible time to Interfere, alex |
| not to mention you didn't even tell me. You're a Bitch for that
| i understand why you don't want anybody Worrying about you |
Alexandra believes she knows who contacted her, and if her guess was right...
She reached into her other pocket, and found another note:
you know why i'm contacting you, And what i plan to do now
| i've always loved a good fucking chase, alex, so give one To me |
| don't want it to be easy so Choose you actions wisely, you slob
| i don't Have the fucking patience to remind you what will happen
'Well, she seems quite livid at me, but all is well if she decided to warn me.'
Alexandra begins climbing up the ladder.
Why would 'she' have to write in code? And isn't it quite obvious?
'She's quite the crafty one. Usually when one of us was writing a note, letter, hell, even schoolwork, our "trainers" would watch over us... So the crafty bitch decided to constantly and inconsistently capitalize some letters and leave others lowercase, in every single bit she wrote. In school the teachers thought she had some sort of mental issue, and so did our trainers... The amount of beatings she got for that was terrible, but the "habit" never broke, so they gave up.'
...You're right, that IS crafty
Reaching the top, Alexandra walks over to a sunchair and lays down.
'She acts like an idiot, which is probably why they let a letter like this out, but she's quite the opposite. Sure, I'm better than her with ranged weaponry, traps, etc., and I can take a lot more pain, but her?'
She smiles with radiance, shivering slightly.
'Put her in front of someone, and she will rip them apart.'