A diary from under the sea -Kurt Steed

I'm not even sure if there is even a sane person out there anymore. Rapture was meant to make something of people, but now all it has done is make monsters. Well if there anyone who finds this audio diary then you'll probably want to find somewhere safe and comfy. Well no where is safe in Rapture now.

The name is Jasper Steed. I was born in London 1929. I came from wealthy family, you see my father made his money originally by working his way to the top of a banking firm. Once he had enough money he began to invest it. Firstly, it was high end restaurants then nightclubs. Then he bought a weapons factory in 1938. Of course world war two happened and he sold off weapons to the allies, which made him a lot of money. As for my mother…well she raised me proper. So much money she didn't have to lift a finger.

A year after the war my father sadly passed. A drunk tried to rob our house and shot my poor father. Once the will reading came around I had found out, that as my fathers only son, he left me his businesses. Left them to me! I was only 17 at the time. My mother did her best to help me out with all of this responsibility.

Everything was grand from there. I invested responsibly and helped to fund projects. Me, at only 18 became some kind of wonder kid. I was interviewed for every possible form of media. The press titled me as the youngest millionaire in the world. Sadly though a year after my father had died, so did my mother. Was of illness the doctors said. For me time may have stopped for a bit, but as for my business, Steed Investments, it was growing larger every day.

But with all this money I became stupid and irresponsible. I threw parties all the time. The most exquisite parties. The "not so legal" parties. Drugs and prostitutes were the main factors, to which the press caught wind of. At the same time the government was growing suspicious of me. Why you ask? Well some of books were a tad off. I began to under pay some workers. Cutbacks really. But never told the government. Some of the extra cash I "didn't make", if you get me, was spent of importing drugs and selling them. Whatever you wanted I could get you.

By middle of 1951 I got a tip off that the press and the government knew all about my underground drug empire, along with what went on at the parties. That's when I was saved. A man named Andrew Ryan, who I had heard of before and very much looked up to him, sent me a supposedly top-secret letter. Upon opening it I couldn't believe it. He wanted me to join his new society. It was advertised as an escape from the "parasites", as he called them. I felt like I had no other choice. By now I was 22 and was already about to go to prison and lose everything. So I sold it all. My house's, my fathers restaurants, his nightclubs and all of my stocks and from there I fled to Rapture.

Well I tell you, upon my arrival into Rapture I really could not believe it. A city at the bottom of the ocean! I really was free from the world above. Down here was a fresh new start for everyone, without any interference from the world above. I have joined the elite. I have joined Rapture.

Steed Investments was back and now in Rapture. 1952 was when I began to make my Rapture dollars. For those folks who came to rapture and weren't extremely rich, I offered to help them invest in their ideas and dreams. For those scientists and artists who needed the financial backing, I would be there to help give them the start. What I put in, I certainly got it back and more. I now had large modern apartment in a place called Cohens Studios, which I helped Sander Cohen to build with my money. The returns on the studio apartments were unbelievable.

In the few years after that business continued to grow. I had started to become more acquainted with Andrew Ryan. The man was an inspiration. How could he not be? He even presented me with Raptures man of the year, twice, one in 1954 and 1957.

By 1958 people may had thought I had it all. The big apartment, the money, the connections etc. But for me there was one thing missing. Love. I was wanting to share my success with someone and wanting to become a father. So that my next heir will take over. Just like me with my father. The women in Rapture were hungry. They wanted it all. They all wanted to be stars. But from a few unsuccessful attempts I had finally found her. She had worked as a receptionist for my company. Her father brought them to Rapture two years ago, he was one of Spain's greatest doctors. Anyway, she had only been with my company about four months before I worked up some courage to ask her out on a date. She was, to me, my Spanish flower. Her name was Simina. We just clicked. I finally felt complete. I didn't need anything else.

New years eve 1958. I was invited to the Kashmir restaurant for a big celebration. Of course, my plus one was my Spanish flower. The night was amazing. Up until that Atlas and his men attacked. We were upstairs, out of the way. We had mingled and now just drank with each other. Then all I remember seeing was a flash and a powerful shockwave knocked me back. My ears rang out in pain. Debris was everywhere and I rolled over to check on Simina. My suit ripped and broken class cut right through the left-hand side as I rolled over. That night I try not to remember as much, everything happened so fast. It was dreadful. Dead bodies all around. Simina was still alive though. We left as soon as we could and as fast as we could. Turns out we weren't the only place to be hit.

1959 clocked in and from there Rapture went to shit. The start of the new year, everyone took out their money from the banks. Even me. The two of us just stayed in my apartment. Trying to survive the chaos. People began to splice up. Injecting themselves with all the plasmids they could get their hands on. I have personally never spliced. I had seen what they would do to you. Becoming dependent on them. The whole city was in a civil war. Ryan v Atlas. Dog eat dog. I remember one night we were both looking out the window seeing gun flashes in each building. Fighting in every corner of the city. I said to her "I may have lost what I have built, but I haven't lost you". Well I think jinxed myself there as two weeks later we were trying to find more food until some leatherhead splicer turned up. He head caved in with a metal pipe. That changed me.

Then for about a year I feel into a huge depression. I began to splice a bit to defend myself more. Hell, I even spent three months living in Siren Alley, buying out every whore I possibly could. My whole world was in darkness.

Well folks that's my story. Right now I'm standing in the Kashmir restaurant, in the same spot from 1958. It hurts knowing that my Spanish flower is not more. Looking around that place empty's me. There is nothing left for me here. I know if I keep on splicing then I'll end up insane. I've heard a couple of the splicers say that someone new has entered Rapture. Ha! What a mess their walking into. Poor soul will probably die here. I give him five hours before he's dead. Anyhow, I believe my times up. This is it I guess, where it all ends for me. Somewhere beyond the sea.

-A gun shot is heard and the audio diary cuts out-