This is based off a dream I recently had, enjoy.


It was a bright and sunny morning on the day Detective Lieutenant Mark Hoffman had to evacuate one of his many Jigsaw lairs. The day had just begun and there he was running for his life, trying to escape being caught by the FBI.

During the middle of the night, he got word the FBI had finally cracked the case of the mystery behind the Jigsaw killings. Word had spread quickly of the identity of the killer. It wasn't long before Hoffman or his other accomplice, Jill Tuck had to get out of dodge. The duo ran out of one of their Jigsaw lairs, saving their lives. They ran out of the front door, scattering. Hoffman ran down the street while Jill ran in the opposite direction. Patrol cars had surrounded the entire lair. There was a small group of kids playing in the street, right before the patrol cars. Hoffman had no choice, he ran for his life in the middle of the group.

Shots rang out, coming close to hitting Hoffman. He stayed in the middle of the group using the kids as human shields, that didn't stop the FBI. Blood poured out of the children, screams could be heard for almost a mile. The children tried to run, but Hoffman stopped them. He gathered them all around him, putting them in a protective circle. At this point, more fires were shot. Children lay dead in the cold street, blood running out of them. Hoffman was almost completely soaked in blood, his hair already showing red tints.

Hoffman saw a slight glimpse of Jill running past him across the street, she too was being chased by FBI agents. Blood had already soaked though her shirt, its color slightly resembling cherry Kool-Aid. She darted in between two officers, almost being caught. Out of no where Hoffman grabbed a short, husky child with dark hair. He lifted the boy in front of his chest, holding him tightly. The FBI was now hesitant to fire at him, they stalled.

In a quick second, Hoffman flung the child from him running in the direction of Jill. Their eyes briefly met, their minds racing. They nodded at one another continuing to run.

Hoffman and Jill quickly decided they would hide out at Hoffman's apartment for the time being. Hoffman wasn't stupid enough to put down his actual address at the station. It was only a matter of minutes before their next game would begin.

Detective Hoffman sat in a black swivel chair he had snagged from his office. His eyes were fixed on the door before him that led into his living room. His face was twisted in a mix of anger and desperation. He was sitting outside on his patio with his back toward the balcony, which faced a row of houses and a lone street below. He was drenched in blood.

The freshly dried blood covered him from head to toe. His hair was matted with the gooey, red liquid. Hairs were standing on end, red streaks were everywhere. His hair resembled a punk style, although it was far from it. Blood caked around his ears and down his jaw line. His clothes were soaked a dull dark red color, while his black pants bore spots.

There he sat for what felt like an eternity while the street below was becoming fuller then ever. Cars sped down the dark road as if there were a fire. There were no stars out that night only the feeling of pure desperation and excitement, after all the Jigsaw killer had been finally identified. The duo knew their time was quickly running out, they needed an outlet.

Hoffman slowly turned around in his swivel chair, staring at the almost lifeless body of a brown haired female beside him. She lay unconscious due to the injection she received earlier. Hoffman stared at her for a few moments before turning his chair all the way around facing the balcony. His eyes traced the outlines of the buildings below.

He muttered quietly to himself.

"I need to find a way to kill her. Some way that's unique, that has never been done."

His attention turned to the balcony railing, his thoughts racing. His eyes ventured to the left of him, resting on the second door that leads to the living room. The chair swiveled around again facing the living room door where he barely made out a figure.

A blonde haired woman walked through the door, her eyes on him.

"Hoffman, the game is ready. What do you want me to do with her?"

Jill Tuck pointed to the near lifeless woman merely feet from her.

Hoffman didn't say anything at first; he stalled wondering what to do with her.

He answered absentmindedly.

"Drag her through the second door and leave her there for now."

Jill nodded; she grabbed the young blonde woman by her feet dragging her to the other door. She quickly made it inside, the floors were already soaked in blood. A puddle of blood was directly under Jill and the unconscious woman. Jill left several footprints in the bright red liquid, her shoes were stained in the process.

She examined her white blouse, it was severely drenched in fresh blood. Her hands let go of the woman's feet, letting them fall to the floor. Jill proceeded into the living room, leaving Hoffman to deal with his issues alone.

She walked inside and found their four newest victims cowering over in a corner of the room. The victims consisted of three women and one man. They were all around their mid twenties, each one with different colored hair. Jill approached a young red haired woman, staring at her with intense anger.

Jill viscously grabbed her by the hair, dragging the woman to her level.

Jill screamed.

"Do you want my baby!?"

She held up a little glass vial filled to the brim with clear liquid. It contained the DNA remains of her diseased son Gideon. Jill opened the lid, forcing it closer to the woman's face. The other victims stood horrified in their places, not one attempted to help the struggling woman.

Jill started to drag the woman off by her hair.

"You're going to have my baby!"

The woman struggled against Jill's tight grip, but it was no use. Jill continued to drag the woman off by her hair, attempting to pour the liquid DNA down her throat.

The woman bellowed.

"No! Stop it! Get the hell off me!"

The other three victims watched in horror as the red haired woman was being dragged off through an orange door. A man with bright blonde hair panicked, trying to escape though a locked window.

A female with short black hair slumped to the floor, trying not to panic. The last female with long brown hair watched the other two in silence. She had grown weak at the sight of Jill Tuck trying to force dead remains of a baby down the red haired woman's throat.

Mark Hoffman remained outside on his patio. His eyes had become fixed for a while on his living room door. His eyes remained there as if something huge was about to happen. He sat back listening to the patrol cars below struggling to make their way down the street. All of the cars came to a halt in front of Hoffman's apartment.

Sirens were wailing with all their might, doors were being slammed shut. It was all over now. Hoffman remained sitting, continuing to listen to the very early process of his capture. His mind was racing, thinking of a new way to escape. There was only one thing he could do to escape the madness now.

He looked away from the living room door, his eyes fixed on the metal railings next to it. He only had but one chance to escape and now was it….