Timeline: Minutes later

Rating: Pg-13 for violence

Chapter 14

The Needle Pit

"Man is the cruelest animal." -Friedrich Nietzsche

Amanda imagined that if Mark was here with her he'd be rolling his eyes and, no doubt with a cocky grin, boasting to her that he could take Xavier down in a fair fight. It would be something Mark would say, either to impress her or simply because his male ego forbid him to say otherwise.

She scolded herself again. She needed to keep her head in the game and stop wishing he'd suddenly come to the rescue. Although she knew he wanted to, he wouldn't sacrifice that previous anonymity. She was aware that Mark would be more useful if he remained anonymous and continued working within the police department, but it still annoyed her that he tried to feign innocence to the outside world. It was also irritating because she wanted him right by her side, right at that moment, and the mere fact that she was aware she wanted him close to protect her was gnawing at her pride and driving her insane.

But the fact was there, and it was undeniable. She wanted him here in the game with her. It suddenly struck Amanda as funny. Half the time she was annoyed with his mere presence, yet here she was, in one of the most dangerous situations she'd ever been in, and the person she wanted beside her the most was Mark Hoffman. Not John, but Mark. When she looked at Xavier and his huge muscles, bulging veins, and a determined-as-hell expression on his face, she didn't want weak, sickly John at her side. She wanted Mark next to her, someone who could stand up to him, someone who could face him without fear. She wanted to have that courage. That strength. And she finally admitted to herself, partly due to her thoughts racing so fast her conscious could no longer suppress any thought that might be awkward or undesirable, what she really wanted was him.

Amanda grew frustrated as she tried to figure out what it was that kept him in her thoughts at this completely inconvenient time. Was it the way his hand had grabbed her, and he'd shown how much he really cared by pleading with her to leave before she got hurt? Was it that moment where he'd almost kissed her, that moment she'd tried so hard in vain to block out while she played the game? Or was it simply the fact that ever since they'd been reacquainted, Mark had only been willing to help her and look out for her, with nothing expected in return? It was the first time in her life someone was willing to do something like that. Even John had expectations from her, asked things of her she wasn't always comfortable doing, like participating in the game she was currently in. Like always, she could never say no to the men who demanded things from her. It was always the men like Mark that she dismissed. Only this time, she didn't want to.

She decided then that she had to live, if only for her petulant desire to prove to him that she was right and he was wrong, that she could take care of herself, and also so she could see him again and go through with that damn kiss that she couldn't get out of her head, the one that had so nearly happened it haunted her even now amidst all the danger.

"You said you survived, right?" Daniel asked, cutting through all of her thoughts.

"Yeah," she said, continuing her search for things to fight back with, should Xavier get hostile, and also acting like she would under normal circumstances, as if she'd woken up here a true victim.

"So, we could survive too, right?"

Amanda looked at Daniel and smiled.

"Yeah," she said sarcastically.

"My Dad's a-"

Amanda glared at him.

Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it.

Daniel stammered for a moment, mentally racking his brain for the words that would help him back out of the confession he was almost about the make.

"My Dad's a real hard ass, you know."

Good save, kid.

"He's probably got half the city right now looking for me, just so he can kick my ass for disappearing on him."

Yeah, that sounds like Eric Matthews.

He smiled and she forced herself to return one.

"Yeah, probably," she said, her voice wistful and full of doubt even though she tried to make it sound sincere. She stood up and turned around. Jonas suddenly appeared in front of her, starling her for a moment. He alerted them that they found another unlocked room.

Jonas lead them to the room that Amanda knew contained Xavier's game. She stared at the door Xavier continued to bang against over and over again. Finally he succeeded at gaining access to the room. The countdown began. Everyone but Amanda walked in. She lingered behind for a moment, hesitating entering. She wanted to remain forgotten.

Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Besides, by knowing that it was Xavier's trap, she wasn't exactly feigning fear.

"Now what?" Addison asked.

"Whatever we do, we got four minutes to get it done," Jonas said.

Xavier walked over to the door and examined it. He moved like the neanderthal he was. He used his first instinct- force- to try to open the door. He failed as Amanda knew he would.

Jonas found Xavier's envelope. He pulled out the recorder they found in the previous game. He replaced Obi's tape with Xavier's and pressed play.

"Hello, Xavier. I want to play a game."

Jonas strolled around the room holding the tape, strutting as if he owned the place and made all the rules.

"A game that's very similar to the game that's you've been playing as a drug dealer."

Xavier's shocked expression was priceless. Amanda entered the room now, a devious expression of amusement on her face.

"A game of offering hope to the desperate...for a price. I think we can agree that you're situation is desperate..."

For a moment Amanda lost focus on the tape, completely entertained in Xavier's internal panic. She was aware it was a very morbid amusement, but she couldn't help feeling a little satisfied that the fear was getting to him, that he was at last processing the severity of his dire situation.

"Hey guys," Daniel said, a tremor in his voice. He pointed to the bedsprings. Xavier pulled the blanket off of it and lifted it up, revealing a huge hole filled with thousands of syringes.

"It will be like finding a needle in a haystack. Let the game begin."

A moment of silence followed the sarcastic chuckle.

"Someone's going in there," Xavier said. "Somebody's fucking going in there."

Amanda's heart pounded in her chest like a wild rabbit's.

Someone?

It was Xavier's test. But she remembered the note and his complete disregard for the instructions. He hadn't learned anything from that first lesson. He was still determined to break the rules. Anyone was a potential victim. Amanda felt like crying. This wasn't supposed to happen, he wasn't supposed to twist all the rules around! John would be furious! But how could she stop it?

She tried to avoid looking at Xavier, but at the same time, she wanted to look at him to see what he was thinking, if he was coming towards her. Her eye contact was all the motivation Xavier needed. His intense stare revealed his devious plan, and Amanda sensed it immediately. He darted to her.

"No, no, no, no, no!" she screamed, running away from him. There wasn't really anywhere to go, and she wasn't fast enough.

"You're sick," Daniel said, revolted by Xavier's actions.

Amanda continued screaming. Everyone was telling Xavier not to do it, but their words accomplished nothing.

"What the fuck are you doing?" someone said. Amanda's frantic shrieking was the sound that dominated all of their voices in both volume and intensity. It was the only thing she and Xavier could hear. He held her by both her arms, clutching her so tightly she almost wanted him to let go except for the fact she knew her landing would be even more painful.

"No, no, no, please!" she begged.

She tried to grab onto him, but he threw her into the hole. She collapsed onto thousands of needles. Her back got the worst of it, but there was pain all the way down, shooting through her from head to toe. Her spine felt like it had snapped in half upon impact with the needles. The syringes below her and surrounding her stabbed and scratched her skin with different degrees of severity. Over a dozen penetrated several inches into her flesh.

When she thought her throat was too raw to continue emitting sound, her wailing persisted regardless. The pinprick sharpness of the needles were driving her mad, bringing her to a level of pain she never fathomed existed.

"Come on! Come on!" she heard Xavier yell from above. He was goal-oriented and focused, if nothing else. He probably could have been a leading CEO with that attitude, if not for his sadism and life of crime.

Amanda rolled over, partly to begin her task and partly to alleviate the pain of the needles and broken glass piercing her flesh.

"What the fuck's wrong with you?" Daniel asked Xavier. He couldn't understand how someone could be so completely cruel and self-seeking. If he wanted the antidote so badly, he should have been the one to go into the hole and scrummage around for a key through all the syringes. How he could be so brutal and force another human being to endure that was beyond Daniel's level of understanding.

Xavier turned away, looking guilty and worried that she might not get the job done.

"You're out of your fucking mind," Jonas said.

Amanda began to dig through the needles as they spoke, her pain turning all their words into gibberish sounds with no meaning attached. All she understood was the pain, the all consuming distraction.

"Come on! Come on!" Xavier yelled. He kept glancing over at the clock.

"We're running out of time."

Mark physically cringed as through he was the one being subjected to the torture. His face contorted in pain along with hers. John entered the room. Mark wasted no time in updating him.

"Amanda..." Mark said, and then he paused for a moment as he tried to form the words to describe the horrific turn of events that just took place in front of him.

"Amanda is in the needle pit. Xavier threw her into his trap," Mark said. John raised one of his eyebrows slightly. He examined the monitors with mild curiosity and watched as Amanda clawed her way threw the piles of needles.

"This wasn't part of the plan!" Mark shouted when it seemed as though John wasn't fully processing what was going on. "He's not playing by the rules! Amanda wasn't prepared for this! We have to intervene!"

"At this point, intervening...would ruin everything."

"Is that all you're worried about? Eric's game? Well I'm pretty sure Amanda dying would ruin everything, or do you just not care-"

"I care a great deal for Amanda's safety!" John hissed back. "But this isn't the time. Amanda is resourceful. She'll take care of herself. The problem is not her safety; it is your lack of faith in her."

John paused, and then gently reminded Mark of the obvious.

"Besides, the needle pit isn't exactly fatal."

Mark froze, a devious thought seeping into his conscious from John's careless words.

"That's why Xavier's trap wasn't designed to be fatal. You knew this would happen, didn't you? That he would force Amanda to do his test?" Mark said.

"Yes, I suspected something like this might happen, to either Amanda or one of the other test subjects."

"You knew...you knew...unbelievable..." Mark said. He shook his head in disbelief, trying to process the bombshell John had just revealed so calmly. His hands clinched the edge of the table; the thought passed through his mind for a moment that he might snap it in half.

I should kill him right now, Mark thought, the first true homicidal urge he'd had since the day John put a shotgun to his face and dared to pull the trigger. All the possible methods of killing him taunted Mark's imagination. The hammer a few yards away might make a mess when he bashed it into John's skull, but it would surly do the job and so would the wretch or screwdriver. The gun he left in the other room would be efficient, although far too quick. And of course there were the other dozens of torture devices just laying around begging to be used to satisfy Mark's blood lust. Temptation surrounded him. It was the worst place in the world to have to fight off feelings of rage and hatred. Mark had to avert his eyes from all the potentially lethal items in the warehouse he could use to murder John with, for at the moment, it would be too difficult to resist, despite the possible regret he might have later.

"You look troubled, Mark. I assure you, if it appears that Amanda can't defend herself, I will allow you to-"

"Fuck you," Mark said. Not exactly the best verbal defense he had, but his mind wasn't functioning correctly. "I'll do whatever the fuck I want, and when I decide it's time to get involved, I will."

"Very well," John said. "Although I must remind you that in doing so, you will lose the anonymity you desire so much."

Mark groaned.

"I knew this whole thing was a bad idea," he said.

Seconds dawdled in her mind, imitating minutes and hours due to the intense pain Amanda endured. Often she thought time had surely run out and that her search had become futile, but she continued digging into the needles, searching for the key that she herself had put into the pit only one day ago. She had tossed it in and didn't hesitate before emptying boxes and boxes and boxes of needles on top of it. The irony of the situation would not have been lost on her, that is, if she'd been capable of thinking anything at all. That was the problem with immense pain. It was a good distraction when she needed one, but it could be a true hindrance when she required focus.

She concentrated on the image of the key. She remembered the weight of it in her hand, the shape of it, the edges of it pressing into her palm, leaving a slight imprint. She longed to feel it again. She thought only of having the key in her possession once more. Amanda flung the needles behind her, buried her hands into them with more aggression, forcing her body to grow accustomed to the pain, as though her life were hanging in the balance. Her subconscious whispered to her, a tiny voice reminding her that her life could be very much on the line if she failed. It seemed as though John had not done a proper risk assessment when he decided to include Xavier in the game. Certainly John had not intended for Xavier to act this hostile, to throw her into the trap.

He paced, and watched the clock count down, helpless to do anything.

"Keep fucking looking!" he yelled. "Come on! Come on!"

"Fuck you! Fuck you!" she shrieked. The sound she emitted almost didn't sound like speech, more like an animalistic cry from another species that happened to mean something in English. The noise sounded like a cats fighting.

"Someone's gotta help her," Daniel said. He looked around. They all had worried or sympathetic expressions, but no one was willing to share her pain.

"What the fuck guys?" he said. He stood near the hole, debating whether or not to jump in and help. The way Amanda was tossing needles around made him hesitate.

At last, the key finally came into her view. She grabbed it and tossed it over onto the floor. 10 seconds left. Xavier grabbed the key and hurried to unlock the door. Amanda leaned against the wall, sobbing from her pain. Xavier fumbled with the key, and dropped it on the floor, losing the precious seconds he needed. The time read 0:00. Xavier had not accessed his antidote. Time had run out. Despite Amanda enduring the real test, Xavier had still failed. Everyone looked disappointed.

But Amanda's thoughts were a million miles away from games and antidotes and timers. Her mind still struggled with the pain, her neurons still relentlessly fired away, her body still felt as though it were swimming through the needles as their unforgiving sharp pricks still rammed themselves inside of her. The wounds they inflicted on her limbs and torso bled. To let them remain in her meant continuing agony, but to remove them meant the pain would intensify for awhile, a state of being she couldn't imagine even existed. Her one coherent thought was the wish that there had been something in the syringes to dull her senses. Guilt she felt over having such a thought soon replaced the idea. She sobbed as her consciousness broke again under the shock of what her body just endured.

Daniel helped her out of the pit and knelt by her side. He removed one of the needles. Amanda faintly realized his presence and gasped with the fresh pain that came from him removing the syringe. Daniel shook his head and glared upwards angrily at the cameras. He felt like flipping the voyeuristic bastards off, but instead he just mouthed, "Fuck you," as clearly as possible and continued removing the syringes from Amanda's body.

"I told you she would be fine," John said. He made the mistake of attaching a slight smile towards the end of his statement, a gesture that brought forth rage from Mark.

"You call that fine? She has a dozen fucking needles sticking out of her arm!" Mark yelled. He rose from his chair so quickly it toppled over to the side. His index finger hovered near the monitors and he pointed at Amanda, who had yet to gather her senses enough to stand. When he looked at her his face relaxed, and rage turned into pleading.

"We have to help Amanda," he said, his voice breaking at the very end.

John looked closer at the screen, inspecting it meticulously.

"She's not as injured as you think, Mark. She is resilient."

Mark shook his head in disagreement.

"At least," John said, "The others will not suspect her now. She's actually a great deal safer now than she was before."

"Yeah," Mark said, "Because a sane person would never subject themselves to being thrown into a pit of syringes, or put someone else that they care about in there either!"

"Are you calling Amanda and me insane?"

"You, definitely. There's no doubt in my mind. As for Amanda, I'm undecided. But when it comes to you, she's becomes insane. Batshit insane."

John chuckled, repressing it as well as he could to prevent another coughing fit.

"I'm glad you think this is all so funny. At the snap of your fingers, she rushes away to do what ever you tell her to, no matter how dangerous or crazy it is. You abuse your power too much."

"Yes, well luckily, what goes on between Amanda and myself is none of your concern," he said, just edging Mark on now, taunting him with the fact that he had absolute control over Amanda's mind.

"If I killed you right now, it would be a justified homicide because you're holding her hostage. Her life is in your hands."

"Amanda has freewill. She has just willingly subjected it to my control."

"No, you're wrong. She's trapped. Trapped in her mind, trapped in that house with all those psychotic criminals, and you're the one that put her there!" he shouted. This time, he wouldn't just settle for words. Words were weak. Words fell and faded before their true meaning was understood. Words were not getting the message through. Words were wasted on John Kramer. Mark grabbed the collar of John's shirt with both hands, his nails digging into the cotton material, turning his knuckles white from the pressure. His face hovered inches above John's, who looked up at Mark expressionless, almost bored. Mark shook him once. His head jerked back from the thrust, but besides a slight grunt, John didn't bother to give Mark's outburst any attention, like a parent waiting out a child's temper tantrum. Mark shook him again, ignoring the IVs and other medical equipment around them that served as a reminder that Mark was battering a cancer patient.

Being sick doesn't excuse being a sadist bastard, Mark thought. He shook him again, the assault more violent than the first, but John never lost his placid expression.

"What I find interesting..." John said, "Is why you care so much, when most of the time you're begging me to send her away."

Mark's wanted to release John, wanted to break the eye contact before John could see what Mark really felt, but the paralysis that possessed his body in response to John's simple statement incorporated itself completely into his hands.

"...Only because...leaving would be for her own good. And I want her safe," Mark said at last. His eyes darted away, and the the IV came into focus in Mark's peripheral vision. He let go of John, who didn't seem to notice or care that Mark released him.

"Well, Mark. If you truly feel that way, feel that Amanda's life is in immediate danger, you know what you must do. I can't exactly stop you," he pointed out.

Mark looked at the screen again. In the time that he and John had spent bickering, Amanda and Daniel had removed the needles from her and had already left the room. She leaned on Daniel for support, but she didn't appear to be giving up, nor did she try to send them any kind of signal to indicate she needed their help. As a matter of fact, she was avoiding looking at the cameras at all.

Is she trying to tell us not to intervene? Mark wondered. Although his heart protested against it, he reasoned that was the most likely scenario.

"I'll wait...for now," Mark said, succumbing at last. He looked over at John and added, "You better be right about this."

Author's Note: Sorry for the slow updates, loving the reviews and/or favs. ;)