Disclaimer: I do not own the character of Jigsaw or the plot of the Saw movies. I don't make any money from writing this.
This is an AU story about the Saw movies. It will contain some spoilers from the later movies, but it will not follow any particular plotline from previous films.
Drip, drip, drip.
The first sound I heard was the sound of dripping water. For a moment I thought I was in my own bathroom, and that the dripping was that damn sink that just would not stay fixed. Three plumbers and an ex-boyfriend later I gave up; it'd just have to drip for the rest of my stay in that place. When the moment passed however, I realized that there was a draught in this place that made it impossible for me to be safe at home. My apartment complex wasn't exactly the Ritz, but it was nice enough and it definitely didn't have a smell to it. What was that smell even? I strained my neck and felt my nostrils flare when trying to identify it.
"Hello?" It felt weird to talk; I realized it must be because my mouth was dry. I wanted to look around, but even though my eyes had gotten used to the darkness there wasn't much to see. Something big to my left, what could possibly be a door to the right and high above me was a dirty window.
I was in a basement.
As soon as that realization hit me a wave of panic flooded my brain. I'd been kidnapped. It was so surreal I had to sit completely still for a moment to grasp the concept of it. My lips trembled and I felt like vomiting, but of course nothing came up. Instead I just sat there dry heaving for a second. I pushed my hazel hair away from my eyes and tried to force away the intense fear that had gripped my heart. Someone had taken me from my home and brought me to this place. But why?
"Can anyone hear me?" My voice cracked when I tried to scream out, but I had to try. It didn't hurt trying, right? Feeling around me I realized I was sitting on cement, and the floor felt cold against my bare skin. Great, apparently I'd been taken while wearing my t-shirt and short pajama combination that I used to sleep in. What was the last thing I remembered?
But it was completely blank. I could remember my whole life, but what I'd been doing for the past 24 hours just wouldn't come to me. It was fuzzy and I realized it must be because I was drugged. Of course I was drugged, how else would they have gotten me to this place? Who were they for that matter?
"Fuck," I mumbled and tried to stand. I failed miserably, probably due to the drugs in my system. Why would anyone want to take me? I wasn't that pretty, I didn't stand out in a crowd, I didn't go out my and I didn't participate in scandals. I lived alone, I worked at a diner, I went hiking in my free time and I refused relationships. By all means I wasn't ugly or boring, I was very happy with myself, but I didn't stand out in a crowd or make myself seen very often.
I was a wallflower, to put a term on it. Not quite as pathetic as those wallflowers in high school, but I still was one. I had one friend who I talked to online and a mother who I talked to at Christmas and my birthday. Short list. Who would take me when there were so many more attractive and interesting people out there? What made me special?
Over where there was possibly a door a noise caught my attention and I backed deeper into the corner I was huddling in. I refused to keep my back open, and if I was going to die I was going to put up as much of a struggle as I could. No one would take out Caitlin Rose without her at least doing some damage. I tensed all my muscles and made sure to be in a crouching position. If someone tried something, even if they had a gun, I'd spring from my position and hope that my body had woken up enough to allow me to go for the door. I was a wallflower, but I wasn't a coward, and I wasn't weak either. I was just happy not standing in the spotlight.
Keys jingled and the sound of chains made my breath quicken. This could be it. This could be the moment I died. A blinding light suddenly hit me and made me hiss in surprise, my corneas burning.
"Glad to see you're awake."
I didn't respond to the male voice, I was too busy rubbing my eyes and cursing out loud. There was a ruffling next to me, too close for comfort and I opened my eyes ignoring the stinging.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
He sounded honest, but why would I take his word for it? He looked like he was in his fifties, the white hair on his head being a dead giveaway. He didn't look mean; he had a kindness about his face, but also an indifference that scared me more than anything else. I had expected a kidnapper to wear some sort of special outfit (for some ridiculous reason), but he wore a red t-shirt and blue jeans. Nothing special, nothing spectacular. He looked like a normal guy.
"Why am I here?" I asked once my heart was beating at a fairly steady pace. He had simply walked in and sat on the bed, which I noticed had been that big thing to my right. Did he expect me to sleep on that bed? Was I expected to stay here for a long period of time? Surely not.
"You'll know soon enough," he said, his voice low and raspy.
I decided to chance it, and took a quick look around me when my eyes had gotten used to the light. I figured I'd hear the bedsprings squeak if he stood up to kill me. My original assessment had been right; I was in a basement. There was nothing but a bed, a sink and a toilet in the room. Or the word "cell" was a better one to use to describe the space I was in. Cement floor, tiled walls, dirty ceiling. Suddenly tears stung my eyes instead of the light and I had to swallow to stop myself from sobbing. How could this happen to me?
"I don't want to be here," I whispered, almost pleading. He didn't reply, nor did he move. He just sat on the bed with black frames and white sheets. There was a sympathetic look on his face that I hated, suddenly I was filled with anger and I just wanted to hurt him.
"Don't try anything; you're still weak from the drugs." It was almost as if he'd read my mind, or maybe he'd just seen the anger flare up in my eyes. It was my turn not to reply; instead I turned my face away from him and aimed it at the corner I was occupying.
When he noticed I wasn't going to pay him anymore attention he seemed to think it was unnecessary to speak to me. I heard him stand up – the bed squeaked, just like I'd anticipated – and his feet moved across the floor behind me. The door made a tired sound as he opened it again, but then I noticed him hesitate for a second.
"I'd advise you to rest for a while; I'll bring you food in a few hours."
Then he left, the door was shut and bolted, and finally I could allow grief to rip through my body. Never before had I cried so much or felt so hopeless. My body ached and I still couldn't stand up, there was nothing for me to do, nothing for me to try. How brave was I now? I hadn't even tried to attack him or fight back or escape. I'd done nothing.
Caitlin Rose was nothing but a coward it seemed, and that thought made me cry even more.