DISCLAIMER: I do NOT, repeat, do NOT own Saw.
Hoffman felt immediate relief as he approached his home. It was small, but it didn't matter. It still provided a roof over his and Jackie's heads and a garage so the car wouldn't be ruined.
He stepped onto the porch and reached for the door. Boy, does he have a story to tell her.
Opening the door and entering, he was greeted by the warmth of the heater within the house. He closed the door behind him, keeping the heat inside.
Hoffman knew something was different as he removed his wet dress shoes. It was too quiet. The only thing that broke the silence was the hum of the heater.
"Jackie?" Hoffman called as he placed his shoes beside the door to dry.
As he removed his blazer, he eyed a piece of paper on the coffee table. He couldn't read it at the current distance, but he could tell right away that it was Jackie's handwriting. He placed the blazer on the couch and picked up the paper.
The note read, "Hey, sweetie. It'll be a while before I get home. I got the late shift tonight. See you in the morning. Love you! XOXO Jackie."
Hoffman couldn't help but smile. The "XOXO" on the note made it look like it was from a teenager instead of his wife. He placed the note back on the table. She could've called, but at least she wrote a note.
He heard a faint buzz.
He looked over at the blazer lazying about on the couch, the source of the noise. He rolled his eyes. He forgot to take his phone out of the pocket. He walked over to it and searched the pockets until he found his cell phone. A picture of an envelope was on the screen, meaning someone texted him.
Hoffman flipped his phone open with a thumb and read the text.
It was from Jackie. It read, "Hey when u get home can u check the shed and c if the hedge clippers r still there? Thx :)"
He closed his phone and put it on the table. Of course she'd ask him to see if they're still in the shed. Those sneaky neighbors always head into the shed and steal something, mainly the clippers. Why they did so was beyond him.
He walked to the back door, deciding to go barefoot. There's no way he'll track mud in the house.
He opened the door and entered the backyard. The shed was only twenty feet away. At least he didn't have to walk that far. He headed to the shed, the mud getting between his toes as he stepped onto the wet ground.
The padlock on the door was unlocked, which was odd because it was locked when he left for work that morning. He already knew that someone got into the shed.
He removed the padlock as he opened the worn door. As he entered, the scent of gasoline and tires were present, due to a bottle of gas and a stack of tires sitting in the corner. Beside them was the metallic pair of hedge clippers. They were still there. But why was the padlock unlocked? He looked around to see what was missing.
Everything was still intact; the lawnmower, the spare hose, the pail, the keepsake box...
But one thing was not right: a picture in one of the boxes was broken.
Wide-eyed Hoffman hurried to the picture to see what it was and how serious it was broken.
As he picked up the picture, some of the broken glass fell off. The photo was torn and some of the frame was broken. The worst part was that it was a picture of Angelina, his little sister. The cracks on the glass covered her bright smile as if to gag her. Her eyes surprisingly shouted that she was alive.
The smile he would never see.
Hoffman carefully placed the picture back into the box. He didn't bother to look through it to see what was missing. He was feeling stressed enough. Besides, Jackie only asked for the hedge clippers. Nothing else.
He exited the shed, closing the door behind him. Inserting the padlock and locking it, he remembered Angelina, when she nearly tackled him when he got promoted. She was a hyper one, he'll admit. She always had a smile on her face, even with her bastard of a boyfriend; Seth. He was a caring guy, but there was something about him he never liked.
He found that out when he saw her corpse on her bed. He hated that image of her; the gaping wound in her throat, her blood all over her clothes, the scratches on her arms. The face was the one thing he couldn't stand to even glance at; all life was drained from her expressive eyes. He swore that he even saw her smile, as if she never realized she died.
The sick fucker learned his lesson in the Pendulum just last week, but he still couldn't get over it. He took his only family away from him.
Out of impulse, Hoffman kicked the shed door with all of his might.
"Son of a bitch!" he yelled. He knew that Seth was gone, but it was like he's still alive, killing God knows whom.
But he's dead, cut in half because of the pendulum. He hoped that Seth wasn't having a blast in the afterlife. Maybe he should burn in Hell for eternity because of his deeds.
Because of killing his only family.
He felt something shatter in his chest, like a piece of glass about as big as a fist broke into countless pieces. He clutched his chest as he collapsed to his knees. Something moist formed on his shirt. He immediately assumed it was blood. He winced in pain as he felt something fall through his chest and shirt and onto the grass. They looked like glass shards, covered in a black liquid.
Something red-hot filled where his heart-where one of his orbs-should be, and spread throughout his body. He grabbed a fistfull of grass and mud as the burning sensation started to reach his head. His eyes began to sting.
Hoffman's eyes snapped open. The puddle beside him reflected his eyes. They were a fierce gold, glittering in the dark.
His skin felt tighter and tighter, and he was about ready to scratch it all off. Black veins rippled across his neck and hands. His mind detected the intruder within him. It tried to push it away, to seize control. His skin faded into a grey hue. His sleeves popped as his muscles expanded. Spikes jutted out of his knuckles and back with some on the shoulders, tearing shirt even more.
He screamed in pain as his voice deepened into an inhuman roar.
Everything went black.