To my surprise, the door was unlocked. I peeked inside, the lights weren't on. I let my head droop down in disappointment. Maybe dying wouldn't be so bad. I'd like a little right now. I pushed the door back further and it made an ominous creaking noise, I shivered more. I took a small step forward and put my hands in front of myself. As far as I could tell, there wasn't anything in front of me – but I tripped anyway. I hit the ground hard on my bad arm; I was in too much pain to scream. My eyes were closed tightly trying to absorb the pain, I hadn't noticed that the lights had come on. I finally opened my eyes and tried to stand. My eyes burned and I closed them again, I swayed in place. I felt like I wasn't in my body anymore and that the ground was like foam, I jumped a little like a person does when they dream they're falling. After coughing up more blood, I used all my strength to study my surroundings. Across from me there was an odd glass tube held up like a chandelier so that it didn't touch the ground. I stumbled over to it and stared; there were sharp, flat metal panels at the base of it. Before I tried anything, I noticed an infamous mini-tape player taped to the side of the contraption. My muscles were weak, but I managed to slowly rip the tape off and press play.

"Notice the glass cylinder in front of you? It's the container of the antidote, Madison. It is at the very top, sealed by a retractable flap. To obtain it successfully, you must climb into it first; once inside, press the button and the antidote will be exposed. All you have to do is reach up and grab it… but if you do not reach it sixty seconds after the button is activated, then the daggers at the base will plunge into your legs, wielding you unable to escape; making this your tomb. Live or die, make your choice."

The tape cut off and I let it drop to the ground. This was it, everything was going to end. I was going to die. I had to try though, maybe… I could make it. I crawled under the base of it, and started to inch my way up slowly. It was a tight fit, the daggers scraped my skin. I groaned and finally I was standing upright. I found a small gray button on my left. It was hard to bend my arms in the small space, so I just leaned my shoulder on it, it worked. I looked up and saw the flap retreat back inside somewhere in the tube. The antidote was hanging by a string, just barely low enough for me grab… if I jumped. The ground started to move again, I leaned on the side of the tube. I flinched and stopped touching the sides, they were burning hot! He didn't tell me about that! It must have started when I pushed the button, which reminded me: I had only seconds to grab that antidote! I jumped – if you could call it that – and missed it by a millimeter. The daggers rubbed against my skin angrily. I tired again, missed.

Now my legs were bleeding and I didn't know how much longer I could possibly hang on. Just try one more time, one more time and then you can give up, I thought desperately. I pressed my hands against the burning sides and hoisted myself up. I couldn't feel my fingertips anymore, but the pain was everywhere else. I just barely brushed my hands on the antidote, I thought I didn't get it; but my finger had caught in the string and pulled it down with me. When the string broke the daggers retracted back leaving a clear way to freedom. Every part of me was shaking violently; I crouched down and crawled as far as I could get away from the trap. I had no idea how much time I had before the poison finished me, but I could guess. My hands shakily fumbled with the cap of the vial. I didn't even think twice before consuming it. It didn't taste like anything, but the cool moisture cascading down my throat was enough.

I was so damaged, so breakable. I couldn't think straight and everything that was me was aching horribly. I continued laying there, every second feeling like an hour. Suddenly, a door opened somewhere in the room. My heart felt like it was being punched. I gave a little shudder as the figure grew closer. My sight still wasn't back to normal, but I could see that he was tall and hooded.

"Congratulations, you are still alive. So many take that for granted…" his dark voice flooded my ears, all I could do was stare.

I tried to say something, but nothing came out. My breathing quickened.

"…but not you, not anymore,"

I imagined that by now he would have killed me, but instead he just gazed at me; not that I could see his face.

I shuffled away from him, terrified.

"You can leave, if you want." He was going to let me go?

It was incredibly painful, but I managed to bring myself up and limp towards the door he entered. I kept looking back to make sure he wasn't tricking me. As I reached for the door handle, the emotion finally reached me. I started to sob quietly, feeling my face turn red and my eye brows rise. I had made it, I was alive. I clenched the handle and stood there for a moment, afraid of what was behind the door. I was stronger then that, I'd proven it today. I opened it and to my surprise light from outside was shining on the steps. I looked behind me again; the figure was gone. I bolted up the stairs and let the door slam behind me. I stopped running after I was two blocks away. It was getting darker, not many people were outside. It must be around five, or else I'd be dead by now. It was the bad side of town, I was in an alleyway. I paused and took in a deep, sharp breath. Was I going to tell anyone? What if he didn't want me to tell? But then, he would have told me not to…

I shivered and continued going whatever direction I was heading. But, where was I going? Back to my tiny dilapidated apartment? I'd have to in the long run. I noticed that I was thinking clearly again – the antidote was working. I stopped to rest for a bit, the adrenaline had worn off and I knew I was in no condition to run around. I glanced at a partially broken window to see my reflection; I looked horrible. There were blood stains all over me, some still new. My arm that had been forced into the knives looked infected. My hair was stringy and tangled; my face had a dead look to it, made worse with the bleeding mascara and eyeliner. I was a wreck and felt like one too. I dragged my sore, broken body towards the main sidewalks. There I found a bus stop, I sat down and waited. Here there were a lot more people around, each one that walked past gave me looks of fear, some disgust, but mostly they didn't care. I wanted so desperately to run up to someone and tell them everything, to have their sympathy and help. But I couldn't, it didn't feel right… I wanted to keep this eerie secret bottled up forever; to forget everything and go back to the simple life I had before.

I could hear the faint roar of a large vehicle coming closer. I knew it was the bus, that it wasn't anything to be afraid of; but I shook even more so. It stopped in front of me and the doors flung open. So many noises, I couldn't stand it. I climbed on the bus and turned to take a seat, the driver stopped me.

He looked me up and down. He probably thought I was some drug-addict. "You got one-fifty?"

I froze, embarrassed. Of coarse I didn't have any money on me. I really did need to get home, though…

"Um," my voice was hoarse and shaky, I tried to clear it. "I-I don't… have…"

He didn't look as friendly anymore. "You'll have to get off, then,"

Oh, shit. What was I going to do? I couldn't just walk home; I didn't even know where I was! If I didn't have somewhere to stay the night, I'd probably die… I was in such bad condition. The answer came to me.

"H-hospital, can you take me to the nearest…?" I tried not to shake as much.

"Oh! Oh, god. Of course, I thought… sorry. Are you okay? What happened? Who-"

I ignored him and slumped into a lonely, dirty seat. The other passengers tried to avoid me. Finally the bus driver started to drive again; I stared out the window, careful not to rub my arm against the cold metallic wall. Everyone these days were so assuming, judgmental. If I saw someone like me walking into their bus, I'd have asked what the matter was. I didn't care if anyone cared, though. Besides, in these parts, lots of people look disheveled and wounded. After about five minutes, the bus came to a quick stop.

"Hey, the hospitals right over there. Do you need help? For god sakes, what's gone on?" I ignored most of his questions.

"I'll be fine, um, t-thanks."

As the bus doors opened the cool air brushed against my skin. I kept my mind off the pain as I walked towards the hospital. I wondered what I'd tell the doctors, I wasn't going to tell them the truth. What could've done this much damage, other than the horrible truth? Falling down the stairs isn't going to work. Who says I need to tell them, anyway? Actually, I don't even know what happened. Yeah, he diddrug me – that's the truth. But that's all I'm saying. Before I realized it, I was already entering through the big, automatic doors. Almost instantly, a nurse noticed me and ran over.

"Dear! What happened? Let me take you into emergency!" She didn't even let me answer, which was fine by me.

I groaned as she put her hand on my back, urging me forward. The bright whiteness of the hospital burned my eyes, but it was also soothing to be surrounded by it. Finally she sat me down in a comfy pale blue chair and told me to stay while she got doctors to look me over. It was nice to be sitting down again, the scrapes on my legs burned, but all was good. I was amazed that I was so calm, so un-hysterical. I was still shaking badly and crying a bit, though. The nurse came back with two other people by her side.

"Do you have your health insurance card with you?" She asked, looking worried.

I shook my head.

"Well, we'll get it from you later, then."

One of the doctors to her side spoke up. He had a wheelchair beside him. "Do you want to walk, or do you need this?"

I nodded; I didn't want to walk another day in my life. The nurse left and the second doctor helped me into the wheelchair.

"Can you tell us what happened?" He said absently.

"N-not… really…" I paused to breathe. "I think I was drugged, I don't r-remember. I woke up… like this."

The man wheeling me into the room whispered to the man who'd asked the question. I only caught part of it, "Jigsaw, maybe?" I wondered what Jigsaw was. "No, I don't think so."

They set me down in the fluffy white bed, I wanted to sleep.

"Before we do anything, what's your name and age?" The first doctor asked, holding up a clip board.

"Madison Jack… I'm twenty-two."

He nodded, put down the clip board and started to examine me. He asked me about almost everything; my arm, legs and even the small burns on my hands. They talked about trauma and the many bruises. Apparently I had a lot more wrong with me than I thought. When they were done they put me on pain killers, gave me water and told me that I'd be in here for a couple days. I had gauze wrapped around my arm after it had been cleaned and I fell asleep almost the second they turned the lights off. I tried to stay awake; I was paranoid that he was coming back for me. My tired eyes slowly gave up and shut, I secretly knew all was well.

A/N: This isn't the end of the story! It's only just begun. But don't worry, it'll be good. Also, REVIEW OR ELSE I won't post chapter four! Thanks for reading.