You thought it was over
Hoffman screamed and screamed at the person who had captured him here until they were long gone and until his throat hurt.
"You can't fucking do this to me! You can't fucking leave me here!"
When the door had been slammed shut, after Lawrence had said the words which they had all spoken at one point: 'Game over', Hoffman thought the bathroom was in pitch blackness.
Soon, however, his eyes began to adjust to the dark and he realised that there was a little light; a slight luminous green glow dully lighting the room. The bathroom. The one where it had pretty much all began.
He knew Lawrence. Not well, though. Enough to know that he had been John's doctor and in the first main game but not enough to know that he was another apprentice of John! He thought it had been just him and Amanda but apparently Dr Gordon was the principle apprentice. It made sense: who was the one to do all the surgical procedures on the test subjects? Who knew well enough and had enough skills to carefully and crucially pierce poles through a body or how to insert a key through one's eye? It's strange how he or Amanda had never known...
Lawrence Gordon had been in the first main game and escaped it by cutting off his own foot to remove himself from the shackle. It could still be seen, starting to rot, on the other side of the bathroom near the door.
Hoffman looked over to the shackle around his own ankle. The hacksaw was long gone, flung across the room and out into the dingy corridor.
He was furious. He had been through so much; he had had his test(s)!
An image of Amanda flickered in his mind, smirking and leaning towards him.
"When's your test, detective?"
Hoffman had proved, as John wanted, that he had the vital survival instinct. He had gotten out from the FBI uncovering him, killing many in the process, but he did what was needed to get away.
John's games were finished, all was played out. He had packed his bag full of money and was ready to leave, ready to escape this involvement that had long gotten out of hand.
And then it all stopped. All the time of working with John, being careful, escaping, all wasted. Caught so easily by some fucker who has a grudge against me, Hoffman thought.
It must have been to do with Jill. She said that it had been John's last request to kill him. That was it: all aspects of the game over and anyone who had ever been involved dead, even John himself.
There's someone out there still: Lawrence is still alive. As am I, Hoffman reminded himself. I'm not dead yet. It's not over.
Hell, he had survived the reverse-bear trap that was supposed to kill him! He could survive this.
"I'm going to get out of here!" Hoffman growled, tugging at the chain yet again as if it would make any difference.
He looked around the bathroom intently, for anything.
It was unnerving that there were already three corpses in this room, and of course the severed foot. It smelt horrible. The bathroom smelled anyway, old and dirty, but the smells of rotting bodies and stale blood were making it much worse.
Surely he could get out of here? The bodies offered no reply, they just lay there lifeless and pessimistic.
People had escaped from this room before, though. These ones dead had been killed. Zep by Adam; Adam by Amanda and Xavier... Who had killed him? The son? Eric Matthews' son?
He was looking over to Xavier's body and thinking about how he had died when something caught his eye. What was that?
Hoffman leant forward, on his knees and squinting. He could see a small reflection of light from something shiny near to Xavier's body.
It looked like a knife but there was no possible way he could ever reach it - what use would it have anyway?
Hoffman was on the far side of the bathroom, near the tub with Adam and Zep's corpses near to him, so far from the door.
It wasn't long before an extreme exhaustion came over him and he fell asleep, uncomfortably sat against the bathtub, his head resting against the edge.