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| - The halls of the Kraken Court were as dark and quiet as always in the depths of Rapture. Marvin Sinatra and Al Buggard, two mobster lackeys, skulked through the dank place. The walls were covered in grime, scum, and barnacles while the wooden floorboards began to rot from the thin layer of salt water that rested over it. "What are we lookin' for again," asks Al in a hissing voice. "Don't you ever listen? We're lookin' for the little girl; that Little Sister that got away from the boss," replies Marvin in an equally slick voice. "Oh yeah, the Little Sister. Hey, you don't think the boss was gonna like... rape her or anything like that, do you? 'Cause I didn't sign up for that," shouts Al. "Pipe down ya jackass! The boss might be a little bit off but he's no child molester. He wants the sister for the same reason everyone else down here does; ADAM," replies Marvin. "Hey, the boss ain't no fuckin' Splicer is he," inquires Al in a frightened voice. "Stop askin' so many goddamn questions, especially when they're stupid. The only reason why he'd want that thing is ADAM. What else makes sense," says a frustrated Marvin. A fast yet delicate tapping sound is heard against the water only a few fet behind the two gangsters. Marvin, with a flashlight in hand, turns to face the noise. Small ripples on the water's surface give away the location of the culprit. Marvin approaches a splintered wooden table and with one kick, sends it into the air. In the spot where the table once stood, a Little Sister is huddled with her knees in the water. "There you are," says Marvin in a soft yet slimy voice. "I'm not gonna hurt ya," he says as he grabs the girl by the arm. She retaliates and sinks her teeth into Marvin's wrist. "Dammit, you little bitch," cries Marvin just before cracking his flashlight over the girls head. In that moment, a deep growling sound reverberates through Kraken Court, causing the thin water sheet to bounce as if coming to a boil. "What the hell is that? The girls Big Daddy," says Al in a trembling voice. "It can't be, her Daddy was killed; I seen it myself. No, this is somethin' else... Let's get the hell outta here Al," replies Marvin. As the two thugs make off with the girl, the growling sound seems to follow them. Running down the dark corridors, the two can hear loud banging noises just behind them. Marvin and Al are both waist-deep in fear at this point as the noise seems to grow just behind them. It isn't long until the two reach their gangs territory. A large metal door guarded by two Sentry-Guns and security systems is all that stands between them and safety. Marvin's fingers tremble as he attempts to type in the passcode on the key pad next to the gate. "Hurry," shout Al as the noise gets closer. "I'm trying," replies Marvin who begins to sweat as the noise grows louder and the growl returns but more angry than before. Just then, Marvin successfully punches in the code and the door slowly begins to screech open. The sounds that seemed to follow the two thugs disappears faster than it seemed to have began and the two look back into the darkness, relieved. "I guess we're safe now," says Al. In the same instant that Al finishes his sentence, a harpoon soars from the darkness and pierces Al in the throat. Al grabs the giant arrow as blood begins to spurt from his neck. Marvin knows its too late and runs through the gate. Just as the door closes, another harpoon flies from the darkness and impales the thick gate. Marvin, still in a slight jog, makes his way down into his gang's territory. There are other gangsters, sitting around polishing their weapons, smoking cigarettes, and gambling. They watch Marvin as he hurries with a blank expression on his face. It isn't long until Marvin makes it to his boss's office door. Two gangsters armed with machine guns wave him in. As Marvin opens the door, a gust of cigar smoke and the smell of alcohol smacks him in the face. He walks into the dimly lit office, filled with regal artwork and Italian-made furnishings that are so hard to come by in Rapture. At the far wall, a large desk sits just in front of three large windows. The chair behind the desk faces the windows. "Who is it," says a voice coming from behind the chair. "It's Marvin Sinatra, Boss. I have the girl." The chair quickly swings around to reveal a middle-aged man with a cigar in his mouth and reddish bags under his dark eyes. He grabs the bottle of whiskey on his desk and takes a deep gulp. "Finally," whispers the Boss. "Bring her to me." Marvin walks over to the Boss and hands him the girl. The Boss, still seated in his chair, begins to caress the girls hair and kisses her forehead. A disgusted look appears on Marvin's face. The Boss looks up and catches this expression on Marvin's face. "You got somethin' to say," asks the Boss. "No sir, I was just thinkin'." Marvin tenses up and moves closer to the Boss. "I lost one of my best friends out there today so I just wanna know if your only reason for throwin' a life away was to have this girl as your personal sex toy!" The Boss lets out a slight chuckle. "First off, watch how you speak to me, Sinatra; I can have you turned into fucking shark food. Second, I'm no pedophile." The Boss looks down at the girl who is still unconscious. "This is my daughter." A surprised expression appears on Marvin's face. "Please forgive me, Boss," pleads Marvin as he drops to his knees. "You're forgiven. Was she asleep when you found her?" asks the Boss. "Uh, no. She hit her head on a table when we tried to get her," replies Marvin. The boss just places his hand over the small gash on her head. With his other hand he grabs the whiskey bottle and takes another gulp. "This is the last bit of pain I will ever let you go through again," whispers the Boss into the ear of his sleeping daughter. The Boss waves his scarred hand at Marvin, a sign for him to leave. As he makes his way toward the door, he makes one last final glimpse at his Boss and catches a surprise. The mob boss that he had worked for for more than 5 years, the man that he had always known to be a cold and heartless man, was weeping over his sleeping daughter. Marvin opened and closed the office door quickly in an attempt to give his employer some privacy. His face was slightly moist, either from sweat or sea water, and his mouth was dry. Marvin looked down at his shirt to see speckles of Al's blood which have surely settled and permanently stained one of Marvin's most expensive shirts. He didn't care.
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