I knew I was awake, but I didn't want to be. My body was stiff and I kept my eyes closed tightly. I could feel the warmth of the light from the window shining down on me; it was a nice feeling. I never wanted to leave. Already the pain had improved; I wondered what I looked like. Suddenly, it all came back to me in a flash; images of blood, the horrible rooms and the unimaginable pain flooded my mind. Rick! What happened to him? I couldn't know for sure, but I had a feeling that he didn't make it. My eyes flickered open and scanned my surroundings, the same clean, white hospital room as before. I tried to stretch, it hurt too much. I noticed a glass of water sitting on the nightstand next to me. I reached for it and sipped slowly. A woman in a long, white coat entered the room.

"Hello," she started, sitting down in a chair beside me. "I'm Dr. Albrecht."

I nodded and set the water down.

"I'm just going to check up on you and make sure there are no new infections, you feeling better?"

"Sort of…" I sighed, wincing at the stinging of the alcohol swabs she was applying to my arm.

Oh, liquor! I missed that the most. I could almost see myself licking the alcohol swabs – but of coarse I wouldn't. Oh, just once more… I needed it! The psycho won't care if it's just one drink. The minute I get out of here…

The phone rang suddenly, I jumped a little. Dr. Albrecht picked it up. She talked for a few seconds and then hung up.

"Two detectives are here to see you," she said questioningly. "They'll come up here, are you okay with that?"

My heart beat faster, detectives? Did they know what happened?

"Um, yeah… it's okay."

After giving me more pain killers, she left. I waited anxiously for the detectives to arrive. I pondered what they were going to ask me, I tried to think of good lies.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, two shady looking characters entered.

"Are you Madison Jack?" The first one asked. He had light blond hair and wore a dark brown trench coat.

I hesitated. "Yeah, who are you?"

"I'm detective Hayes and this is detective Moreau, we want to ask you a couple questions, if it's all right with you."

I wondered what they'd say if I said it wasn't alright. I decided to cooperate anyway.

"Okay,"

Moreau smiled slightly, he had thick dark hair and wore a black jacket with jeans.

"I know this might be hard for you, but you need to tell us the truth." He paused, looking for my reaction. I stayed still. "First off, how did you end up like this?"

"I don't know. I think I was drugged, I woke up like this." I answered automatically.

Hayes spoke up. "Have any idea of who could've done it?"

"No," I murmured.

The two detectives exchanged glances. I tried to decode what they were saying to each other.

"So you're saying that someone drugged you, cut you up a bit, burned only a bit of your hands slightly and left you to wake up and discover that you had few new injuries?" Moreau said, sounding dissatisfied.

"Um, well, yeah… I guess." I said quietly, playing with the ends of the cushy blanket nervously.

They didn't look like they were buying it. I felt my cheeks burn a little.

"Do you know who Jigsaw is?" Moreau asked suddenly.

"Who's Jigsaw?" I asked back. I'd heard those doctors mention it before.

He frowned. "Jigsaw is a notorious serial killer. He puts people in… odd traps that they can only escape by hurting themselves. We came here to ask you these things because it sounded a bit like the other cases. We don't want to scare you, but we need you to tell us everything! Now, are you sure you don't remember anything else? No trap or anything unusual? A tape recorder, perhaps…?"

I started to shake, but I didn't think they could see it. Jigsaw, was that his name? Traps, tape recorders… it definitely fit the description. I really wanted to tell them now, but something told me not too. It was stupid; any sensible person would've told the whole world by now. I guess I wasn't too sensible.

"No, sorry… I-" this was it. I could either tell them everything, or tell them nothing. I could bring down a serial killer, or live my life as if nothing happened. Oh, whatever. "I can't remember a thing."

Moreau and Hayes sighed together. "Well, thanks anyways."

They started to leave when Moreau turned on his heels swiftly to face me. "Are you sure? Not even a tape?"

"Give it up, Andre." Hayes mumbled, pressing his back slightly.

As they left I couldn't help but crack a small smile. I knew it was unspeakably bad to lie like that, but no one would ever know. I sat there for a while, scaring myself by thinking about my… experience. I would never have to talk about it to anyone and I'd live my life the way it was before. Or maybe not… I didn't know for sure, but the reason I even went through that was because of my drinking. Vaguely I remembered telling myself that I'd get into rehab or at least try to quit. No, I had to stop. What was so great about drinking anyways? It had become such a habit, such a routine that I didn't really notice. Sure, the taste was nice; but at what cost? Throwing up every other night, having horrendous headaches, waking up in someone's house after a party and not remembering anything from the previous night? Something clicked in my mind and I saw images from the last party I went to. I was talking to these guys… then this other one got me another drink… then someone was dragging me off the dance floor, I turned around… then everything went blank. It was hard to figure out the fuzzy pictures, but I understood. Whoever it was that dragged me away was the psycho. But it didn't matter now, it was over and I would live on. In a way, I guess he kind of did help me. I contemplated his cold words, "…You are still alive. So many take that for granted…" he was right. "…but not you, not anymore," right again. I'd get better; I would turn things around.

A nurse came in and gave me a small smile. "Good news, we're only going to keep you here till tomorrow. You're healing quite fast!"

"Thanks," I replied, managing a weak smile.

She left and I drowned in my thoughts. What was I going to do once I got back to my apartment? I lost my job recently, I had little money… and it's not like I can land a job before my next rent. I held back tears; there was no way this was going to work. I pulled the covers over my head and tried to sleep.

---

"Are you awake?" Someone asked.

"Yes…" I mumbled.

"Sorry to wake you, but are you well enough to leave? Or would you like to stay longer?"

"Oh! I'll go," I said, tried to climb out of the bed.

She looked a little worried. "Okay, just sign this please."

I took the clip board she was holding and signed it, already at the door. Finally I was out of this boring place! I couldn't quite run yet, but every step felt like a small victory. Soon I was out the main doors and into the streets. Then I remembered that I didn't have any cash. I reluctantly walked back to the hospital and borrowed enough for one bus ride, I found it hard to believe that they'd actually help me out like that. I finally caught a bus and soon I found myself walking down the familiar street towards my apartment. It was all going so fast, I loved it. I was almost back to normal, too. I had some scars and my muscles were sore, but other than that I was healthy. I shakily opened my door – I never locked it. Inside it was the same, cold and empty. I flung myself onto the lone couch and sighed; it was good to be home. I knew what I really wanted… I tried to fight it, but gave in. I went straight to the fridge and took out a long, slender wine bottle. It felt nice and smooth in my hands, for some reason I started to shake. I leaned against the now closed refrigerator door and popped the cap off. I stared out the window across from me, the sun was setting beautifully. The chilled liquid swam down my throat and gave me goose bumps. It stung my mouth and gave off the delicious flavor, I smiled largely. Suddenly, a shadow emerged from the living room. I gasped and let go of the wine bottle, it fell to the ground and made a loud crack which made me cringe. The wine spilled on me and pooled around my feet, the glass reflected the sun into my eyes. The shadowy figure stayed still. My body flinched and I slipped on the wine, I caught myself and stood against the wall shivering madly. Finally whoever it was came forward, I started to cry.

"Please don't hurt me!" I started, my voice was shrill.

"I'm not going to hurt you," the familiar voice said, pulling back the hood of his cloak.

I stared in horror; the psycho was back, probably to finish the job. This wasn't supposed to happen! I was going to – well, my plans had just backfired. So I had one drink, now I have to die?

I studied his face; he looked to be in his thirties. He had short brown hair and looked very average. Something about him was familiar…

He continued. "Don't be afraid of me, I'm nothing to fear. I was here to… check on you. Something I rarely get to do with my subjects. Do you know who I am?"

I remembered him from somewhere; I just couldn't put my finger on it.

Before I could stop myself I blurted out, "I know you're a psycho!"

He hid a smile. "Your friend, Karen, got shot at a party one night. I was a detective on that case and I questioned you. At first we thought you were apart of the shooting, not a bystander. We have a file on you."

His words stabbed my heart, why'd he have to bring back these painful memories?

"I don't understand…!" I said, sounding very panicky.

"You will, in time. I'm here to help you, Madison. We both know you need it… you have nothing left here… you're even turning back to that poison…"

Now I knew for sure that it was the man who put me in that horrible 'game'. I started crying again; he was right about everythingI didn't have anything left, I had to stop pretending.

"H-how… could you… help me?" I murmured, feeling like I was being pitied.

He paused, staring at my weak state.

"That's right! Y-you can't help someone like me! I'm fucking hopeless!" I exploded, staring him right in the eyes for the first time.

"You can stay with me. I'll make sure you don't get your hands on liquor and you don't have to pay me anything. Trust me, Madison."

He's asking me to stay with him!? But he's a… murderer!

"What? S-stay… with… no! Please, just… leave! I don't need…"

"Where else are you going to go? Jump from party to party after you can no longer pay your rent? Become homeless and have to resort to stealing and prostitution just to nurse your addiction? Stay with me Madison, get the help you've been searching for all your life."

I didn't care how right he was, how could I…? Oh, I didn't know what to do… it was so confusing! I've always done stupid, risky things… but this would be the worst. Of course I would stay with him – if he wasn't a serial killer!

"A-are you… Jigsaw?I asked,almost whispering the last part.

He hesitated. "That's what most call me, but my name is Hoffman."

A/N: Yeah, when I was writing this I noticed that we don't know Hoffman's first name yet. Hopefully they'll tell us in SAW V. I don't know what to make his first name until then so for now his name is Hoffman… also, 5 REVIEWS OR ELSE NO CHAPTER 5. Okay, thanks for reading!