Mister B....Mister B.....
The Big Daddy Bouncer came to with a start, the echoing scream of the little sister vibrating through his helmet like thunder. He placed a large hand down on the ground, feeling the chill of concrete even through the protective cocoon of his diving suit. Pushing against the floor, using both his gauntlet of a left hand and the Drill that was forever attached to his right, the Big Daddy pushed himself to a kneeling position. He shook his entire frame, attempting to banish the last dregs of disorientation from his body. After a moment or two the Big Daddy drew himself to his full height, though with the way that his suit was crafted it gave him the look of a formidable hunchback, he gaze out through the many tiny view ports in his helmet at the surrounding area.
The room where he stood appeared to be a overly large foyer, with a single large desk with several small trinkets and items on use. Behind the desk were several rows of small compartments each only big enough to fit a exceptionally small item, each of the compartments having a small number above each. Flanking the desk were two large stairwells leading upward to another floor of the building. The Big Daddy began a slow circuit, taking in the rest of the room. The rest of the remaining space in the room was filled with small chairs, plants in vases. The walls had several pictures on them, most of which being portraits of various locations of some kind.
Deep in the mind of the Big Daddy, a memory from the past began to wiggle and squirm. It fought through the haze of his tempered mind, through the Big Daddy training and the Adam riddled brain cells, fighting with all its might to make itself know.
The memory was of Children laughing, of a woman carcass his naked skin, of he before his transformation into a Big Daddy, back when he was still a husband and well...a father. Of his family and he staying In one of the hotels of Rapture....Before.....
The Big Daddy growled loudly as the memory receded back into its dormant state, leaving his mind to throb with pain. Pounding a fist against the exterior of his helmet, trying to distract his mind from its inner pain with outer stimuli, the Big Daddy returned his attention to the room, the entrance to this... “hotel” as his memory had recalled. It was this time observing that he notice just how exceptional old and dirty the room appeared. Everything from the pictures on the wall to the very desk itself was covered in a thick layer of dust, giving it a gray appearance, and added to the overall look of lack of maintenance and care. This was a place, that had not seen use in many years.
With a sudden strike as if lightening had plunged head long into his heart, his mind recalled the lack of the presence of the Little Sister. Calling loudly in his deep throated rumbles, he called again and again for the Little Sister. He spun this way and that, searching the darkness for his little one. He threw out his right hand once, and caught the desk with the point of his drill, causing the items on it to fly into the air, one of which being a bell. The bell fell to the concert floor and made a clear and rich “ding” as it hit, the sound echoing through the shadows.
Almost in answer to the ringing, there was a shuffling of feet coming from the direction of one of the stairwells. The Big Daddy towards the sound, and without even a moments hesitation, charged up the stairwell. The stairwell in response creaked and screeched, almost seeming to beg to be released from the burden of his weight.
Up the stairwell he charged. At the top of the flight the stairwell ended and lead to a long darkened hallway. Both sides of the hallway were lined with dirty, cracked doors, leading to the many rooms of the hotel. The Big Daddy threw himself down the hall, charging with all his might. After a moments frenzied charge, the Big Daddy found himself at a four way intersection. Finding himself momentarily disoriented once more, he stood in the center and tried to determine which way to go. Each hallway looked the same in the shadows from the last and there was no evidence to show which way the little one might have gone. For the moment, the Big Daddy was lost.
The moment however, was fleeting, for to his right, came the sound of shuffling feet once again. This time, as the Big Daddy turned, he caught sight of a shadow against the shadows, of a figure moving in the dark. Charging once again into the unknown, the Big Daddy made his way hurriedly down the hallway.
A left, then a right, straight for a while, then another turn. The figure seemed to make a wind circuit. The Big Daddy was not concerned about finding his way back into the strange foyer, but as he kept running after the figure that he believed was his little sister, he began to wonder. Physical, he was much bigger of stature and therefore much faster than the little sister. How than was it no matter how fast he ran, he could not get so much as in viewing distance of the little sister. How could she run so fast with her tiny frame? But this thought was swept aside. His only concern was checking up to her.
Finally as he turned another corner, he caught sight of the figure he pursued. It was indeed small and appear as well to be a little girl in a dress. His heart leapt and he rumbled loudly once again, attempting to get her attention. But whether she took notice of him or no, she gave not indication. She scrambled through a door in on the furtherest end of the hallway. Once she was through she slammed the door behind her.
Not wanting to injure his little one but growing intensely tired of this chase and fearing for her safety,the Big Daddy raised his drill. Riving it even as he charged toward the door, steam and smoke bleaching from within it, the Big Daddy lifted it out beside him and pointed it toward the door. As he reached the door, he drew back the drill-hand, placing a hand and foot out in front as if he were throwing a punch, the Big Daddy threw the drill forward with all his might.
The door dissolved into spectacular shower of shards and splinters as the drill connected with it. There was no resistance, and the Big Daddy let out yet another rumbling growl, this one of yearning for his little one......
.......but the large room he found himself was empty.
Angered beyond anguished, the Big Daddy threw his head back and roared, the walls shaking with its ferocity as he slammed his spinning drill into the floor. Again the air was filled with dust and splinters. There he keeled, his heavy body shaking in anxiety. There he remained for along time, breathing deeply in his suit. The Big Daddy was alone, and he began to fear he would truly never find his little one. He whimpered into the confines of his helmet as he hung his head.
Thats when the strange sound began. A wailing in the air, as if a large beast was crying out with its last defiant breath. The pitch would rise than fall, rise and fall once again. The Big Daddy lifted his head and stared at the cold dark ceiling, listening as the sound seemed to emit from the very walls and floor.
Slowly the room took on a sinister change. What little bit of paint that remained on the halls slowly peeled hallway to reveal the skeletal-like frame work underneath. The ribbons seemed to float in the air before burning into ash in mid-air. From beyond a furious hateful light burned. The Big Daddy looked down as he heard cracking and he watched as the floor turned from wood to metal and then continued to watched as the metal rusted over and cracked in several places. And from the splints, the same fiery glow issued forth. Though the Big Daddy gazed at this fire that burned all around him, it felt as if the room had suddenly gone freezing cold. Inside his suit, the Big Daddy shivered in discontent and growl nervously.
A scratching of metal against metal found it way to the Big Daddy ears. It was coming from behind him and it was slowly getting closer. The Big Daddy turned.
Standing in the doorway of the now transformed room, stood a towering figure, easily as tall as any of the other Big Daddies he had ever met. He was donned in a simply white sleeveless robe that reached down and covered his entire being. His bare arms, though tiny, were tone with muscle. Strangest of all was the figure's head, which upon it rested a helmet that was triangular shaped, the top of which reached to the ceiling, and the bottom pointed downward like the beak of a ravenous bird of prey. There were various object s attached to the helmet and around the eye region was wired mesh on either side. Though if there was anything underneath, shadows hide it from sight. Ever inch of the strange figure was dirty and covered in what appeared to be blood, and if the sight wasn't enough to confirmed, the smell certainly was.
He reeked of blood, of decay, of age...of death...and of anger.
He did not so much as walk forward as he did lurch and when he did so, something very large and formidable dragged behind him, causing sparks to issue forth. The Big Daddy could not see what it was until the figure had fully entered the room that it was a very large, rusted, and menacing looking sword that he dragged.
The Big Daddy rumbled in challenge (and nervousness) as the figure stood before him, lifting the sword and jabbing the end of it into the middle floor, piercing metal with sharp metallic clang. The two stood, facing one another. One staring into a black abyss, the other looking from the black abyss into the glowing orbs that reflected the anger light.
The Bid Daddy did not understand why he was in here, or what this strange place was, for that matter, who or what this strange figure was, but he recalled the sound of that metal against metal screech and recognized it as the sound he had heard before regaining consciousness. This....thing, that stunk of blood and death, had to be the reason for his little sister's disappearance and he would make it pay.
He turned around fully, jerking his drill from the floor. Facing his enemy, he rived the engine of the drill, and charged!
He crossed the room to the figure in the blink of an eye. He thrust the drill forward, smoke pouring from it as if coming from the bowels of an angry dragon and the Big Daddy complemented it with a roar to match that of a one as well. The drill flew toward the figures unprotected mid-section, almost as if it were hunger for the figure's intestines.
The figure in response leapt back, displaying a speed that it had lacked a moment before. Robe flapping in its wake, the figure moved its massive sword to intercept the Big Daddy's drill, and there was a sound of thunder as the two weapons met. The Big Daddy felt his arm, unbelievably, go numb from the impact, and the two stood locked together, the drill continuing to bore into the sword. Sparks flew into the air and the drill began to grow unbearably hot as it continued onward. And still the sword held in place and the figure itself showed no sign of discomfort or pain. It simply stood there, gazing down at the Big Daddy throw the mesh metal.
Final, the figure threw its weight and strength behind the sword, and without a word tossed the Big Daddy off balance. Than as the Big Daddy stumbled and tired to regain its loss balance, the figure reached forward with its hand, and grab the bar frame that was attached to the outside of the Big Daddy's helmet. And with a display of strength that would leave most men speechless, the figure slammed the Big Daddy's head against the ground. The impact dented the metal floor and vibrated through the Big Daddy's body. The Big Daddy's growled in pain as it attempted to pick itself off the floor.
The Big Daddy looked up, and caught sight of the figure raising its massive sword high above its head, each of its hand gripping tightly unto the handle. In the red glow, the figure looked and could have easily passed for an executioner from the underworld. The Big Daddy threw itself back as the sword dropped, cleaving the floor were the Big Daddy had been just a moment before.
Regaining his feet once more, the Big Daddy step forward, seeking to take advantage of a moment's opening. But the figure already had its sword up and swinging, the blade carving great arcs in the air. The Big Daddy raised its drill in defense and the two metal weapons meet again and again, sparks flying into the air each time they struck. The Big Daddy was hard-pressed and each time the sword connected with the drill, the Big Daddy could literally feel the weapon degrading. The figure also seemed to have a massive amount of stamina, for it did not even appear to be the slightest bit winded by this display. If this kept on, the Big Daddy knew it would be drawn into a corner it could not fight its way out of.
So instead on waiting for that moment, the Big Daddy decided to go on the offense. With a roar of defiance, it duck a swing of the mighty sword and as the figure starting to swing again, the Big Daddy brought up its drill and threw it out in a back-handed motion. The Drill and sword connected again, and this time the Big Daddy felt as well as heard the drill crack. But with the momentum behind it, the move was able to deflect the blade. Taking advantage of this, the Big Daddy punched forward with its left hand.
The move caught the figure square in the chest and knocked it back a step. Then the Big Daddy lurched forward and threw its helmet forward in a head butt. It hit the figure in its own helmet and seemed to daze it, if not for a moment. This gave the Big Daddy a chance to rive its cracked drill and with a rumbled of anger, brought the drill swinging. It caught the figure once with a grazing blow, and than a second time with the same affect. The third time however, the Big Daddy brought the drill around in a furious hay-maker.
This caught the figure on the side of its own metal helmet and there was a shattering explosion as the drill connect solidly. The Figure spun around and brought up a hand to cover its helmet, even as the other clinched tightly around the sword in reflex. The Big Daddy stood back, and raised its spinning drill, and lurched forward, not wanting to take a chance on being defensive. The Big Daddy attacked, drill spinning and smoking in the red light.
At the moment the drill was about to connect the figure turned. Its helmet had a huge scar snaking its way up it, and the mesh was torn and flailed. And somehow, even though the Big Daddy could still not see its true face, the Big Daddy could sense that it was now angry...VERY angry. With its empty hand it reached up and caught the drill before it had a chance to impact its helmet again. There was a spray of dark blood as the drill pierced the figure's palm. But the hand held, and the drill gained no ground.
Then with its sword hand, the figure lifted the sword high above its head once again and brought the sword.
This time, there was no chance to dodge. Big Daddy its mind go numb and was only vaguely aware of the sound of his left arm falling to the floor. A moment later the sound was followed by a roar that was both filled with pain and outrage. Slumping forward but not able to fall because of the figure's grip on his drill, the Big Daddy looked from his now bleeding stump to the now useless limb on the floor. It whimpered deep in its helmet.
The Figure, letting its sword tip fall to the ground, turned and with yet another display of strength that belayed his appearance, flung the Big Daddy aside. The Drill came out of the center of his hands with a hiss and spray of blood.
The Big Daddy fell to the floor with a crash and turned to huddle around its bleeding stump. It was vaguely aware of the figure turning fully toward it and making its way slowly toward him, walking again in that jerking lurching. He wanted to rise and face him, to avenge whatever this figure had done to his little one, but there was storm in his mind. He could concentrate he couldn't get his body to function correctly.
The Figure stood over the fallen Big Daddy. It observed him for moment, almost in a predatory way. Then it place a foot down on its shoulder and shoved, forcing the Big Daddy to face him.
The Big Daddy faced him, inside coughing blood on to the helmet. He watched as the figure stood there momentarily, then taking its sword in two hands it raised the massive blade high above its head once more. The Big Daddy faced the imposing blade. The Big Daddy couldn't remember the last time it consciously felt afraid. Because of the tempering that all Big Daddies go through all emotion is taken away except those pertaining to the little sister. Now though, gazing up at the blade, and the Big Daddy honestly felt afraid to die once more. And again, he wished he knew what had become of his little sister. What had this creature done with her? Had he killed her? Taken her Adam afterwards?
And thinking of his little sister, the Big Daddy closed his eyes and felt afraid and alone. It let out a whimper into the smoldering angry abyss...
....and out of the abyss came a cry.
Mister Bubbles! Get up Mister Bubbles!!!
Eyes snapping open behind its helmet, the Big Daddy rose suddenly. This sudden movement caught the Figure off guard and stumbling backwards it fell, the blade swinging wildly and clattering to the floor. The Big Daddy was on top of him before the figure could. Blood dancing through the air in great torrents, The Big Daddy brought up its drill, rived it up and brought it down, burying it up to his wrist into the creatures body. The creature made not a sound, but clutched at the spinning drill in a vain attempt to draw it out. Its legs kick furiously, but the Big Daddy but its massive foot down and crush first one and than the other. Rivets of blood flew as the drill continued to bite into the creature.
Than hooking the drill into the figure drawing it up, the Big Daddy pulled the figure up and charged across to the nearest wall, throwing it against it. The Big Daddy impaled the figure there, than drawing its drill out, and as the figure slipped mercifully down a little, it thrust the drill back it. Once more it repeated this process then with a roar, the big daddy tore its arm from the drill, leaving it spinning in the thrashing creature.
The Figure tired in vain for several moments to pull the tearing ripping drill from its midsection, but to no avail. Soon as the drill began to smoke and finally die, the figure tired once again to free itself , and manage to draw the drill out a bit, before it finally slumped forward and ceased to move.
The Big Daddy stood and stared at the now firmly dead creature, its gored ridden robe still flapping from the motion of the drew. The Big Daddy rumbled with satisfaction. Then it turned. It was time to search out his little sister.
He took a step ,wavered, step once more and fell to the floor with a crash. He growled and tried to crawl forward, but it was useless. His body was not obeying the commands from is mind. His bloody limbs no longer functioning. It seemed he was going to die alone. But....at least the little one was alive. Maybe she would find another to protect her.....maybe. The Big Daddy rumbled and closed his eyes
In the recesses of his mind the Big Daddy felt more than heard the tiny footsteps approaching him. Felt the tiny figure looking at him as darkness closed in. Felt the tiny voice say as he died.
Time to go back...Mister B...
“Mister B....wake up Mister B!” The tiny voice that sounded so familiar urged. The Big Daddy grumbled and open his eyes and peered out ward. There standing there, clutching her tiny needle device, framed by the familiar view of Rapture, was his little one. Rumbling with excitement, the Big Daddy got to his fight and looked her up and down, looking for any signing of injury. There were none and his was overjoyed by this.
But she was rather confused and she looked up at him strangely “Whats the matter Mister B? You acting very strange today.” The big Daddy looked at her and rumbling once, reaching down and matted her on her heard gentle and affectionately. She smiled shyly and looked at him with a shake of her head.
“VERY strange.” She said once more. Than she took his massive finger in both her tiny hands and pulled “Come on, Mister B! Lets go look for some Angels, Ok? I got a good feeling about today!” She sounding so cheerful and carefree that it brought warmth to the Big Daddy's heart, and he allowed her to lead him away into the familiar tunnels of Rapture, away from the dregs of that strange evil world, away from the thoughts of death alone in that world...of the battle with that strange... pyramid headed creature.
- Title: The Horror meets the Mighty
- Artist: Richard_theholderoftruth
- Description: Ello everyone. I hope you are all doing well when and if you read this. It has been awhile since I've posted anything, and i do apologize. Writer's block, blah! But hopefully with this I can start to recover. hahaha anyway this time around I decided to have some fun with a conscipt that was brought to me. How awesome would a fight between pyramid head and A Big Daddy be? =) hopefully I caught the epicness of it! anyways guys please enjoy!
- Date: 08/11/2010
- Tags: horror mights mighty