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January 1st, 1959


"Ohhhhh....my head......," groaned Richard Duss, slowly opening his eyes. He was on the floor, in his own blood, in his own home. "Christ," said Duss, pushing himself off the the floor and standing up. What happened last night? Duss walked toward the window of his small apartment and looking out. His eyes widened, his jaw dropped. "Holy........," Duss gasped.

At the other side of the divide between his home and the Coral Hotel, a huge hole had been ripped into the walkway that connected the two opposing buildings. Duss realized exactly what had happened, but he didn't want to admit it. But as he turned away, he saw his TV. It had the Public Service Announcement picture on the screen, the huge black tower in a circle surrounded by four smaller circles in each corner.

War, thought Duss, a Civil War. Duss hobbled over to his closet through the pain in his foot, and opened the oak door. There, standing upright like King Arthur's sword waiting to be grabbed, was his shotgun. He quickly grabbed the ammo to his gun and shoved it in his pocket, shoving four shots into it that he had managed to pull out. Ok, now what? Richard thought quickly, and began to run over to his bed.

He saw it, the ADAM syringe filled with fire throwing goodness, and stuffed it into his left pocket. He didn't use it like the rest of his neighbors had (the Atlas and the Ryan-loving ones), but he knew he needed it now the most. Now it was time for him to get out of Rapture. Months ago, he had been planning for this excursion out of the failing city in case it exploded into violence. It had been simple, his friend Vincent had his own personal Bathesphere that could go to the surface. But now that their was humogous

He slowly began to walk to the door, not even worrying about putting on a new pair of clothes. They were blood stained, but they were still good to wear. His vest fitted him nicely and he was surely not going to throw away a good pair of pants. He grabbed the handle, and pushed the handle down. Slowly, he opened the door and began to take a step outside.

Suddenly a shot ran out in the hallways, followed by the sounds of running. "I got him Georgie, I got him!" yelled a woman. "Shut up you bitch, we need to be quiet so we don't wake up our tickets to the good life...," said the man. Richard quickly shut the door, and ran behind the wall and taking cover behind it. Splicers. He knew about what they did to people, and he didn't want to meet one of them face to face; if the even had faces. Then, Richard heard something that almost gave him a heart-attack ", I think I heard something Georgie."

Richard gripped his shotgun harder as he heard footsteps come down the hall at an alarming speed. "I think it was right here, George," said the woman, slowly pulling down on the doorknob. Richard heard the door open and slam againist the wall, and he quickly prepared himself for what he was about to do. "Come back here Jane! We need to get back home, no need to be attracting any of Ryan's fascist security." Richard heard the footsteps stop, and then heard the footsteps head out of the room.

Richard popped out from behind cover, aimming his shotgun madly. They lady was gone; it was safe. Richard began to walk slowly toward the door again, this time with slightly faster steps, and popped around the door's left hand corner. No one their either. He stepped out, and began heading down the dimly lit hallway. He knew he had to get to the other side of the city before he should start cheering, but his quick and easy access to the old Atlantic Express line was not happening either. He turned another corner, and began to head towards the elevators.

He began to wonder about the Civil War shortly after he pressed the down button of the elevator: should he really be running away from the whole situation or should he stand up and pick a side? He had come down here as an architect back in 1947 because he felt like the world above was oppressing him, but now he was going to run away while Rapture burnt to a crisp? Everything's different now, he thought to himself, this is not the Rapture I used to know. The elevator doors opened and Richard walked inside, and pressed the fifth floor button.

What was different about Rapture? Genetic altering drugs, crazed movements of workers, increased isolation; the 'usual'.

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