Chapter two: Game of survival
Warnings: mention of major character death, blood, profanities.
A/N 1: This part ended up going in a completely different direction than I originally intended.
A/N 2: I don’t own these characters/ the saw universe.
Sorry ‘read more’ isn’t working.
Summary: They have to get through a series of agonising traps to earn their survival, but who will live and who will die?
Permatag: @desireepow-1986 @cordoniaqueensworld
Series tags: @cordonianroyalty @imthequeenofcordonia @rainbowsinthestorm @ladyangel70 @texaskitten30 (just let me know if you’d like to be added/ removed)
His limbs felt heavy, achy as he started to claw his way back to consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, the room was dark except a green kind of glow to it. He blinked a couple of times until everything came flooding back into focus. He looked up realising that his arms were chained above his head.
He looked around him- nothing to be seen. It looked like he was in some kind of warehouse. He soon noticed that his legs weren’t chained to anything, just his arms. He twisted his body slightly to look around when an agonising, fiery like pain laced through his abdomen. He looked down to see his shirt was now red where he felt the pain. He was kind of scared to see what was underneath his shirt if he was being honest.
He stood on a podium, like a stage. Gritting his teeth, he jumped up and down pulling on the chains that held him in an attempt to loosen them from the metal pipe where they were attached to. His attempt to loosen the chains that held him turned out to be futile, they wouldn’t budge.
He looked up seeing they were attached to a metal pipe a good 10ft to 15ft above him. He twisted around so he could grip on the chains more easily and hoisted himself up, groaning loudly at the pain that shot through his abdomen. He took a second then continued to climb the chains, once he was high enough he wrapped his legs around it, grabbing on it with his hands and trying to tug it but once again it wouldn’t budge. He huffed knowing what he needed to do but knowing it was going to definitely hurt. He took his legs from around the pipe and grabbed back onto the chains.
He let go. The pipe snapped and fell with him. He hit the stage, ending up going through it and landing on his back. He screamed, gritting his teeth. He could feel blood dripping from the wound on his stomach and others that were caused by going through the stage. The chains fell and hit his chest just causing him to yell out in pain again. He opened his eyes at the right time to see the pipe coming down as well so caught it just before it hit his face, chucking it away from him.
He lay there for some time, unaware of how much time had actually passed. His time perception was off, he knew it was late evening when- he couldn’t even remember what happened. It felt fuzzy, like his head was made of cotton wool, but he didn’t know how much time had passed, how long he’d been out. The lighting again wasnt real so that gave him no indication of what time it was which all in all was messing with his head slightly.
He wasnt sure how much time had gone by but by then the pain had started to lessen somewhat, from the fall anyway, so he turned onto his side, groaning loudly and grinding his teeth together as he did so. He managed to get onto his knees, he lent back on his legs looking at the handcuff like things around his wrists that the chains were attached to. He tried to pry them off but luck wasnt on his side today.
Out of options and knowing what he needed to do to get out of them, he placed his left arm across his leg and lined it up so his right hand with the metal part was hovering over his hand, or more specifically his thumb. He gritted his teeth and brought it down on his hand, the metal tore into his flesh leaving blood trickling down from the wound. He struck it again feeling the bone pop out from it’s socket.
“Fuck!” he yelled. He took in a breath, wincing when he looked down at his now bloody hand. He needed the things off, he wouldn’t be able to get far carrying around the chains- they’d hold him back. At least if he got one off that would grant him some freedom to find something to get the other one off with. He grabbed on the cuff around his now injured hand with his other as he wiggled it out, the flesh getting scratched by the rough metal as he shimmied it out of its confinements. He held his hand against his chest when it was finally out and the chain attached to the cuff clattered onto the floor beside him.
Once he had gotten his breath back, he wobbly got to his feet, still keeping his injured hand against his chest. After he had gotten his balance he looked down at the now red stained t-shirt, he felt the world around him sway- he never was a fan of blood.
With his uninjured hand he lifted up his shirt a little bit to see a once gaping wound that had been poorly stitched back up. He dreaded to think why it was there to begin with. He stepped out of the rubble of the now fallen stage, tugging on the chain as the pipe got stuck against some debris. Every step hurt. He wasn’t sure where it hurt more if he was being honest. He could feel some blood dripping down his back from the wound he’d gotten from the fall.
He looked around once again when an envelope caught his attention, he hobbled over it, groaning as he bent down to pick it up. He ripped it open pulling out a glossy piece of paper, his brow furrowing as he did so. He turned the paper over - his confusion multiplying as he did so. Once the paper was facing the right direction, he could see an x-ray of a torso. In the left corner of the picture was a key. He unconsciously put his hand over the wound on his abdomen right where the x-ray was showing where a key was.
His gaze then shifted to the cuff on his hand, quickly locating the lock. It didn’t take him too long to figure out where this was going. There was no way he was going through dislocating his thumb again.
He looked back into the envelope he was still holding and found a straight needle and some thread- the same coloured thread that was obviously used to stitch him up in the first place.
He staggered back over to the now fallen stage, carefully falling to his knees beside it. He placed the items down beside him. Keeping his still bleeding hand against his chest, he rummaged through the debris until he located a piece with a sharp, serrated edge. He brought his findings up to his face, examining the needle-like point. Once he had come to the conclusion that the piece of debris would in fact do the job, he unbuckled his belt as he leaned back on his legs. He placed the debris and his belt down beside him as he lifted up his shirt, getting a good look at the wound. He placed the x-ray in front of him as he slipped his shirt off over his head. He picked up the belt, folding the leather in half then placed it in his mouth between his teeth. He then picked up his ‘scalpel’. He gingerly touched the outside of the wound with his injured hand as he adjusted his grip on the debris clutched in the other- the jagged edge slightly slicing into his flesh on his fingers- which all in all was miniscule to the pain he had already experienced and was about to. He shakily brought it towards his wound. He took in a deep breath as an attempt to calm himself down before he started.
He brought it just beside the first stitch, gently as possible cutting through the thread of the first suture. He winced- it was muffled by the belt in his mouth that his pearly teeth were currently clamped down on. He continued onto the next one. Some blood soon started to pool from the wound, down his stomach and onto the floor below him. He tried not to look at it, he was already holding back the urge to spill his guts as it was, however, doing this blindly most likely was not the best cause of action.
He tried to somehow distance himself. He tried to imagine that he wasn’t about to rummage around his stomach for a key, the searing pain made that difficult though, that and the feel of the warm, sticky blood starting to pool from the wound.
He cut through the next stitch- there were eight in total, he wasnt even half way yet. He cut through the others quite quickly, wanting it over quickly, the sooner he did it, the sooner he could get the key, sew himself back up and get out.
He took the belt out from his mouth- seeing the imprints in the leather he’d left and tossed it down onto the floor beside him. He took in a deep breath and looked down to the now fully gaping wound. He picked out the bits of thread that were left in the wound- wincing as he did so. After that was done, he placed his thumb on one side of the wound and his index finger on the other side. He grunted as he spread open the wound, his other way hovered near it. He took a moment waiting for it to stop shaking before he slowly pushed his fingers into the wound. He carefully felt around whilst thinking of other things other than what he was doing, the pain of it and the wet, warm, sticky blood coating his fingers.
Finally his fingers brushed against something not organic. He carefully grabbed hold of it, having a good feel of it and soon coming to the conclusion that it was definitely a key. It had been a while since he was in school but he remembered enough about biology to know that you don’t have metal, key-like organs. He used his other hand to open up the wound more so he could easily take his fingers out.
He let out a sigh of relief when it was finally over. He quickly used the blood soaked key to unlock the cuff around his wrist, relishing the feeling of there no longer being a weight around his wrist as it clattered to the floor.
He dropped the key down beside the X-ray and picked up the needle and thread after using his already crimson shirt to wipe away some of the blood. He quickly threaded the needle and without thinking too much about it made the first stitch. He hated the feeling of his skin being weaved back together as the needle went in and out, in and out of his flesh. It was fiddly with the needle being straight and having an injured hand made it more difficult, however, he got it done.
He bent over slightly to pick up the blood covered piece of debris to cut the thread, then without care let the needle, thread and ‘scalpel’ clatter onto the concrete.
By the time he was done he had blood dripping down his chin from where he had bitten into his lip so harshly. He used his shirt to wipe away any blood that was around the wound and his chin then slipped his shirt back on. There was something about walking around half-naked that made him uncomfortable, like a piece of his armour was missing. It made him in a strange way feel safer- less vulnerable with his shirt back on.
Without warning a light suddenly was switched on- it was like a spotlight pointing to a door on the other end of the room. He was certain had the mysterious light not have been switched on then he wouldn’t have noticed it in the otherwise dimly lit room.
He staggered on over to it. Noting ‘this way’ was written on the grimy, metal door in red ink.
He pushed against it with all his strength to get the stiff, heavy door to open. It almost certainly hadn’t been used for a very, very long time. He stopped at the threshold- slightly hesitant to leave. Yes, it looked as if a massacre had gone on with all the blood in there but…it had just been him, but now he was about to step out of there into the unknown with no idea what awaited him. No idea what was lurking on the other side. He did it anyway.
He walked through the long, narrow corridor, the dull lights flickered on and off as he continued on his way, avoiding the water dripping from the ceiling above him.
He kept a hand over his wound as he hobbled along. He pushed the creaky door open at the end of the hall, being greeted with a rickety- not exactly safe looking metal staircase on the other side. He gripped the cold metal handrail on his way up them- the metal clanking beneath his feet. He arrived at the top of the steps into another little hallway with another staircase at the end.
He made his way along, stopping by what looked like a piece of glass- like a one way mirror, he thought.
He leaned in close but still couldn’t see anything inside. His curiosity and confusion only spiked when he noticed a big light- like the ones they used on tv to mimic natural light pointing into whatever that room was being used for.
He didn’t stay long, eager to get the hell out of there so made his way towards the other staircase. He didn’t know where he was going, not a clue in the world but continued on his travels regardless.
Again the metal clanked beneath his weight as he negotiated down the stairs taking him into another hallway. This one seemed to go on for an eternity until he reached…nothing. A brick wall. There was never an option to go left or right. Just a continuous concrete-like maze, except this one guided you toward only one destination. He pushed against it. He didn’t know why or what he expected to happen but he certainly didn’t expect a mechanical whirring and the bricks to all fall out of place and for the whole structure to move to the side, letting him see the room that stood on the other side.
He stepped in, welcomed by water dripping on to his head. He looked up seeing tubes hanging from the ceiling. It didn’t take him long to notice the window- he assumed it was the same one he tried to look through…however long ago that was. Again his time perception was off.
He looked around, taking it all in. The room was still wet, water coated basically every surface and dripped from the ceiling.
He saw the door, his eyes soon travelling to the body that lay just beside it. He walked quickly over to it, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He felt himself start to gag as he took notice of his friend’s body. He carefully got to his knees, placing two fingers on the pulse point on his neck- he already knew but…he needed to know for certain.
He felt his body shudder at how cold Maxwell’s body felt under his touch. Of course, he felt nothing and took his hand away, carefully standing back up.
He soon took notice of the staircase and open door. He cautiously walked over to it, taking his first step up.
He ended up down another narrow hallway and entered the only room at the end. The smell of blood in the air was prominent. It looked like a murder scene and judging by the body hanging limply in what looked like some kind of torture device..it was.
This time he couldn’t keep the sick down. Practically projectile vomiting in the corner of the room. He looked up when he heard footsteps, his eyes widened in confusion.
“Hello Liam,” the person said, before he felt something strike him in the back of the head before everything went black.
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