Saw VIII
Mitchell's head slowly moved from to side as his vision was being restored to him...
He could see something bright and blurry, it must be a spotlight or something, he thought. As he woke, he could smell something disgusting, this worried him. When he saw the blood stains on the floor and walls, he immediately started to panic. "HELLO! IS ANYONE THERE?!" He was scared now, he immediately tried to stand up, but found he couldn't.
Mitchell was seated in a chair that had leather straps placed over his wrists and one that held his neck in place. Everything looked like how he'd imagine Hell would be like, a vague reminder of his old, daily life. Then, his eyes were laid upon something he could not believe, an old rusty TV. All of a sudden, the TV flickered into life and an odd looking doll appeared on the screen...
"Hello, Mitchell... I want to play a game"
At that moment, Mitchell knew his fate was sealed.
The doll continued to speak in a very distorted tone
"Every precious day of your life is wasted away Mitchell, as you continue to find solutions to your problems at the bottom of every bottle you devour. Your alcohol intake only becomes dangerous once it consumes your soul and now, you find yourself unable to find your way of hope... Your freedom. Today, I offer you a chance to find your salvation. What you find yourself in, is something I like to call The Axe Trap. The axe above you is attached to a cable, which is tied to the wall behind you. When the flamethrower burns through, the cable will be incinerated and the axe will cut your face in half."
Mitchell stared in disbelief...
"To avoid your death, the key is hidden somewhere in your body. I will give you a hint as to where the key is located. The key to your life, is in your hands. Will you overcome your obsession with the bottle, or will you drown in your ignorance?"
"Live or die, make your choice."
The screen immediately switched off and Mitchell's time had finally begun...
"W-wait, what.. what the hell are you talking about! Dammit, someone help!"
Mitchell screamed at the top of his lungs. He could hear the sound of the flamethrower burning through now; he couldn't stop shaking at all. He shook his whole body violently trying to make his escape. Using his aggression, he ripped off the straps attached to his wrists and felt a sharp pain run through his left hand. Mitchell darted his eyes around the room and found a knife in a small box on his right hand side. He snatched the sharp knife out of the box and stared at his left hand. This is it, thought Mitchell, all of the tears flooding from his eyes.
Mitchell raised the knife and stabbed at his left hand, plunging the knife in and out, not caring about any of the blood that was rapidly leaving his body. The cable had almost ripped its way through when Mitchell finally found the key. "Thank fuck..." he said as he sank back into the chair. Mitchell moved his hand to undo the lock that held his neck in place, when he heard something unlatch..
The Axe! Shit! Mitchell hurried to try to take the lock off, but the axe fell incredibly fast.. Too fast... "FUCK, SOMEONE HELP!" Mitchell's eyes loomed upon the axe as it fell. He fumbled with the lock, but couldn't get the lock off...
Suddenly, all went black and he couldn't see anything. His face felt numb. The axe had buried itself into Mitchell's face causing a massive indent straight down the middle of his face, the blood pouring relentlessly all the way down his body. His hands fell to his sides and the key slid out from the palm of his hand and fell to the concrete floor.
His body lay motionless on the seat...
" A winner is one who accepts his failures and mistakes, picks up the pieces, and continues striving to reach his goals."~ Dexter Yager