AUTHOR'S NOTE: This would be chapter one! Thank you for your kind reviews! The story will be more fast-paced eventually, for now, though, this is just to get a feel for the characters. I hope I'm doing John and Amanda justice.
Once again, John and Amanda belong to Twisted Pictures, Lionsgate, James Wan, and Leigh Whannell. Not me.
ONEAmanda groaned, her head lolling slightly forward as she came to. She felt wierd, as if she were waking up during a very uncomfortable nap while in a car on a road trip. Her dark eyes blinked, and her brows furrowed, staring at her fish net stockings as if seeing them for the first time. Something felt wrong...her head felt heavy. Did I get drunk? she wondered. She sat up slightly and made to leave her seat, when the feel of cloth restraints on her wrists came to her attention. She looked up, and confusion began to turn into panic. Tears filled her eyes as she struggled, trying to break free of her bonds, barely registering her strange surroundings. Two overhead lights cast a foreboding light throughout the room. The floor and walls were dirty and dusty from abandonment, and dark shadows leading to nowhere and everywhere waited expectantly in the distance. She could taste blood and metal in her mouth and she tried to scream, but it came out all muffled.
The click and buzz of a television screen turning on caught her attention, and she turned in her seat to see a television several feet from her, the static clearing to show the sight of a puppet. The television pigmentation was a morbid black and white, but it didn't stop that damned thing from being creepy. It had spirals on its cheeks, dark eyes, black hair, and wore a small dress suit. Its crude mouth opened, and a distorted voice echoed throughout the room. "Hello, Amanda," it began. "You do not know me, but I know you. I want to play a game."
Amanda felt sick. She knew there was only one person who would do anything like this: Jigsaw. Oh, she had heard of him all right. His last two victims had been the subject of a couple of newspaper articles a couple of years ago. Sure, he wasn't headline-world-breaking-news, but everyone knew him. Everyone would take an extra glance over their shoulders when walking home in the dark and lock their doors and windows just to be safe. He was not a major concern, but in the back of everyone's minds, the fear and worry was still there. Jigsaw was still at large, and that frightened people, although they would never admit it.
Why me? What did I do? she thought. She wanted to scream at the television screen and demand that he tell her why he was doing this to her. Sure, she was a druggie. She did heroin like there was no tomorrow, but...that didn't mean she had to die, did it? She had no time to second-guess her thoughts, because that bone-chilling voice was speaking again.
"The device you are wearing is hooked into your upper and lower jaw. When the timer in the back goes off, your mouth will be permanently ripped open. Think of it like a...reverse bear trap. Here, I'll show you." The puppet moved to the side to show a mannequin's head, the heavy metal device which was obviously on her at the moment, on its own head. A few seconds passed, and the trap went off, completely mutilating the dummy's head. Amanda gasped, her eyes widening in horror as the sight sunk in. Oh my god. Oh my god. I'm going to die, she thought, terrified. She was scared shitless.
"There is only one key to open the device. It is in the stomach of your dead cellmate. Look around, Amanda. Know that I'm not lying. Better hurry up. Live or die: make your choice." The puppet was finished, and the television began to fizz with static once again, but she didn't give a fuck about the sound of the television. She could hear the clock behind her head ticking. She didn't have much time.
The most peculiar sensation began to kick in as she struggled against her bonds frantically, the cloth beginning to loosen, the timer click-clicking all the while. Every nerve in her body was on edge, and a huge surge of energy and rush of adrenaline flowed through her veins as she finally managed to get her hands free. She jumped to her feet, her hands reaching up to feel the metal trap on her head. It felt cold and unfeeling, like death. She staggered forward, an unseen force making her run around the perimeter of the room, searching for this "cellmate" of hers...She couldn't see him, and time was running out! Her breath was coming out quickly in panicked gasps, and madness was just around the bend as she whirled around, her eyes searching in desperation.
Her eyes widened as she found him. There he was, in the right-most corner. She approached him slowly, cautiously, gazing at him curiously. He wore a gray t-shirt, jeans, and no shoes, and as she neared him, she stifled a gasp. She knew that face, she knew this man! Lying before her was Christopher, her drug dealer. She had known him for quite some time, and he was the only one she ever went to for her heroine. He always gave her the best, and was actually pretty nice as far as drug dealers went. Tears ran down her cheeks as she began to cry, kneeling down in front of him. With shaking hands, she lifted his shirt to find a dark green question mark painted on Chris's stomach. A knife lay next to him, waiting to be used expectantly.
Could she do this? Could she end another human being's life to save her own? Would she kill this man who had a pregnant fiancee whom he was planning to marry in a month? The tape had said "dead cellmate". Chris was dead. She would not be killing him. It would be okay, then. It would be okay...
Her trembling hands grasped the knife handle tightly, raising it up above her head, her sobs the only sound other than the ticking. Amanda's heart nearly stopped as Chris groaned, his eyes opening slightly. He wasn't dead! He was still alive! She nearly dropped the knife, but something primal kept her grip on it tight as her sobs increased. Screaming, Amanda slashed down, cutting his stomach open. She stabbed him over and over again, his startled cries deaf to her ears as she managed to cut a big enough opening. She threw the knife to the side and dug her hands in his stomach, pulling out his intestines. Blood covered her hands, but that primal urge, that force that was controlling all of her actions drove her to dig and search. She reached in as deep as her hand could go, bile rising up in her throat. The feel of something metal against her fingers made her heart beat faster, pumping more blood into her system as she deliriously pulled the key out. Her grip on it was slippery, but she had it.
The ticking began to go faster, and Amanda screamed over and over again as she reached behind her, her arms shaking convulsively. Her hand found the padlock and she attempted to unlock it, but her grip slipped. The ticking increased ever faster, and she tried again, her chest heaving. So little time...!
The key was in. One quick twist was all it took to have the padlock unlock itself. Amanda practically ripped the padlock off, gripping the sides of the bear trap with both hands, and throwing it to the floor as far away from her as possible. Within seconds of hitting the floor, the trap went off. Amanda's shoulders raked with sobs as she nearly collapsed to the floor, the adrenaline rush fading as quickly as it had come, that primal drive receding back into the recesses of her mind. She let the tears come, let the relief wash over her. I'm alive. I beat the game. I'm alive. I did it. I'm the only one to have done it. I'm alive. I'm alive, she kept repeating to herself in her mind over and over again.
A creaking noise brought her from out of her thoughts, and her head snapped up, her body tensing. Please, don't let that be another trap, she thought, fear beginning to rise in her stomach again. Out of the shadows across from her came a tricycle, the same puppet from the video riding on it. Her eyes narrowed, and she waited. Finally, the puppet's mouth opened and that distorted voice spoke once more. "Congratulations. You are still alive. Most people are so ungrateful to be alive. But not you. Not anymore."
Yeah, no shit! she wanted to scream at the thing, but something told her to get moving. Mustering what strength she had left, Amanda rose to her feet and passed the dead body of Chris. She turned away from him in regret, ashamed of what she had done, but glad at the same time. She had killed another man, but she was alive. She did it! She had beaten one of Jigsaw's games! She had done what others could not. There would be no puzzle peice carved in her skin today.
Amanda walked past the puppet uneasily, keeping a wide berth. That thing creeped her out, and she was very glad when she was past it. She began to run blindly through corridors, realizing blankly that she was in a large abandoned warehouse. She ran through corridors, trying to find her way, when at last she found a door. She pushed it open, and the sun blinded her eyes. It was daylight, and the sounds of the bustling city assaulted her ears. Panting, Amanda looked this way and that, finally tearing down the street as fast as she could.
John slid the door open. He had been sitting in this room in front of the camera monitors watching Amanda play her game. He had been delightfully surprised when he had seen her cut her drug dealer's stomach open. It wasn't that he enjoyed murder, oh no. He despised murderers, in fact, but it was interesting to see to what lengths people would go to to save their own lives. His feet echoed on the stone floor as he picked up his puppet and the tricycle, bringing it back into the room. He flexed his gloved hands as he went back into the room, the coppery smell of blood reaching him. Bending over, he narrowed his eyes, taking a good look at the dead man in front of him. This had been Christopher Hammeln's game just as much as it was hers. This man had a beautiful fiancee, a child on the way, a decent apartment in this shithole of a city where people threw their lives away. He had thrown his life away. His fiancee did not know that he was a drug dealer, that the majority of their income came from him selling and buying the drugs that addicts desperately wanted and needed. She was completely in the dark, and it disgusted him that this man should succeed at life and have everything one could hope for at the expense of others. Others like Amanda.
Amanda Young...he remembered her well. Smart and with a quick tongue. An interesting young woman with only one downfall: her addiction to heroin. She was throwing her life away, just as Christopher had done. But he had helped her. He had broken that habit once and for all, he was sure of it. Now Amanda could be the beautiful witty girl he had met in the hospital all the time. Never again would she take anything for granted. Never again.
His time was running out. He had a few years left, true. He was not on his deathbed just yet. But he would need someone to carry on his dream, his vision...and he had the perfect candidate.