Bioshock (c) Irrational Games

Booker paced about his office, angry, outraged and infuriated. Guilty and wracked with despair. A little finger… that was all he had left oh his daughter now… just a tiny stub of flesh that used to be her right pinky and a tiny bloody trail from where those bastards, Comstock and Lurace, took her… wherever the hell they took her.

"Why did I -" Booker tried to speak, but the words were lost. "Oh, god. Resse - our baby girl is… Anna. I'm so sorry… dear god, I'm sorry…!" He collapsed on his old, faithful desk chair. The creaky wooden thing had supported him through many years of work, but the comfort of familiarity did little to allay his despair. "My little girl…" Fingers forked through his hair before seizing clumps, nearly tearing it out by the roots as he screamed in anguish. "I'm so, so sorry! God!"

Booker gave into his despair, staring at the ceiling with tears trailing down his cheeks. Eyes half-hooded and empty. He barely noticed a bright light forming somewhere, from the outside of his doorframe. By the time he stood, the light condensed into a tiny ball and sent out a thin white shockwave, powerful enough knock him back into his chair. Smothered in his crib… a ghostly voice whispered

"What the hell was that…?" He whispered to the spartan room, which contained little more than a desk, a chair and a cheap bed with little more than a sheet covering it. There was a door to the left of the desk that lead to a smaller, equally sparse room. Still shaky from the last hour, Booker stood and ran a hand through sweat-sleeked hair before his heart jumped and he froze. He could feel it beating impossibly harder when he swore he heard soft mewing from the baby's room. He waited for a moment, it was a trick of his mind, surely. Grief, guilt and the pain of losing his only child, but when he heard it again, that was when he knew this couldn't have been a hallucination.

"Anna…?" He called tentatively, his gaze drifting to the door leading to the spare room. Time seemed to slow down and speed up simultaneously as he walked over and pressed his hand on the ajar portal.

"Anna, is that you…?" It was a half-begged whisper, Booker could hear his heartbeat echoing in his ears as he dragged his feet to the white wooden crib. There was a tense moment where hundreds of thoughts crossed his mind. Did he dream the whole thing up? Was it just a gigantic nightmare and his Anna was still sound asleep in her bed?

Booker swallowed softly before forcing one foot in front of the other until he was above the crib. He stared down at two perfectly round bright blue orbs and felt his fears melting into relief. Little Anna babbled, "Da-da…" she giggled, then found entertainment in trying to squeeze as many fingers as she could in her mouth.

Booker reached down and scooped the little girl up, cradling her protectively against his chest though the sudden change of environment caused the little girl to fuss and tears of protest formed in her eyes.

"Hush now, Daddy's here. You're safe." He cooed, carefully jiggling his daughter as he paced the room. "Daddy's here, Anna." He whispered her name, leaning down and kissing her brow. "And I'm never letting anyone touch you again."