Chapter Three - Once You Are in Hell

Co-written with Renegade Vic

A/N: Thank you to teenageroadkill for reviewing!

The ticking- and the low, groaning creak that followed- nearly caused Mike to jump out of his skin; he turned to face the unknown threat, fists raised instinctively, but allowed them to lower slightly as he saw the door release from its catch. Xavier was the first to act, seizing a pole that looked like it had once been the handle to a mop or a broom and using it to push the door open; Mike fell in close behind him, half-dreading and half-hoping for the possibility that the drug dealer would trip some equally-lethal trap as the one he had sprung earlier.

If only, if only.

The revolver on the door was calling to Mike. Ruger .357, it looked like- more than enough power to bring down any 'surprises' they ran into in the house. He tried to pry it from the clamp holding it in place, but to no avail- and as he checked the cylinder, he felt his heart sink a notch. Empty. It had only held the one shot.

"Hey, wait a minute. Where you going?" Jonas asked; Mike turned, thinking he was addressing him- but noticed that the older man had been looking toward Xavier, who was already at the end of the hallway.

"I'm gonna find an antidote, and I'm gonna get out of here."

Fucking stupid. Oh well- your funeral…

"What? Antidote? You been in the joint, you talked to the guards that run the chambers. You know there ain't no antidote for this shit."

"Tokyo attacks? That's Sarin gas…and you can treat it," Mike interjected. "Sodium hydroxide. Lye. If we can find a box of lye flakes, we can make our own fuckin' antidote." Jonas didn't seem to hear him, however; neither did any of the others.

"Look at this. The doors are locked."

"Hear that?" He knocked on the wall. "It's wood. Plaster. It's not a fortress, it's a fuckin' house!"

"All I'm saying is, let's take our time and come up with a game plan." Jonas was still thinking clearly. This was good. If they could keep everyone together, maybe there was a way out of this place.

"Well, you come up with a game plan, all right? I'm getting outta here." Xavier didn't seem to be in a mood to cooperate. Typical of the fucker.

Xavier vanished around the corner, no doubt in search of an antidote. Unlike him, the other stayed behind, clearly not stupid enough to assume that there wasn't gonna be a price for those fuckin' things. This was Jigsaw. There was no way they were getting outta here alive without sacrificing something first. And there was no way in hell it was gonna be Ava's life.

Sarin gas. She momentarily stopped to contemplate exactly how Jigsaw had managed to get his hands on the stuff, when Addison began to cough, a rough, hacking cough that sent a chill along Ava's spine.

The gas was already starting to take affect…

Fuck.

She moved past the hooker, who was slumped against the wall and followed Xavier down the corridor. He still had the nail-studded bat in hand and was looking around corners in an effort to predict any 'deadly-dangerous' movement.

Her eyes roamed to the wall and she saw what looked like a metallic protrusion from a painting. Frowning, she looked closer and realized it was, in fact, a flashlight.

"Look!"

She yanked it off the wall, prayed to God it still had working batteries and clicked it on, wincing as the powerful light hit her full force in the face.

"Well…now we have a torch," she muttered, turning it off and walking into the 'foyer'.

It was easily as musty and rundown as the room they had woken up it, with only one difference. There was a set of white-painted double doors with a single, red word painted across them.

EXIT.

Ava heard coughing behind her and wasn't surprised that it was Addison. Weakling. She was already succumbing.

"Are you alright?" Jonas asked, a note of concern in his voice that mystified her. Why did he care? If she died, it was one less person to get the antidote and a not-so horrible loss of a rather agitating woman.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Addison snapped back, wiping her hand on her pant leg, leaving a dark stain. Blood.

Ava rubbed her own throat anxiously. How long was it before she started coughing up blood? She'd been vaccinated but somehow she didn't think tetanus shots were going to help her in here.

Addison's repeated coughing was more than a little alarming to Mike. Sure, she hated him now- and his feelings toward her were only marginally better, and even then only because he pitied her as much as he felt disgusted- but the fact that the Sarin gas was already getting to her did not bode well for any of them. How long had they been in the building- and how long had the gas been circulating? They had no way of knowing- and the thought that he could be next terrified Mike. He had heard the horror stories about the nerve gas- and it had been those stories that prompted him to look up homemade remedies for its deadly effects.

"Seriously, Ad. You're not holdin' up so great," Mike started, hoping to actually pick up a conversation with the only other "participant" he knew. "We've gotta find you an antidote." The icy glare she shot him abruptly ended all hopes he had for conversation.

"Whatever, Mike. Just stay the fuck away, all right? I'm not in the mood for your fuckin' 'white knight' routine." She stormed off toward the others, leaving a confused Mike in her wake.

"You're not gonna be able to help her, Mike. She has to help herself or she's never gonna learn." Amanda's voice, soft though it was, seemed able to cut through the musty silence of the house.

"Learn? You say that like you know her," he replied, turning to face the dark-haired girl behind him. She looked familiar, too- and not just from the newspaper he had seen a few months ago that had trumped up her "survivor story." Had she been at one of their gigs?

"I've…seen her around. And I can see why Jigsaw would want to test her. What's your deal, though?"

"Fucked if I know. I like cars, don't kill people, have friends and a dead-end job. Same as anyone else-" The sound of an impact, of wood splintering beneath the force of whatever was striking it, jarred Mike from his train of thought. Was Xavier throwing a bitch-fit? It wouldn't be surprising…but it could be dangerous to the others' well-being.

Why did he care, anyway? He wasn't exactly fond of the two people he did know, but the rest of them…did they matter? Really, did they? The tape said they had something in common…

Steeling himself for another confrontation, Mike stepped around the corner into the foyer. Xavier was pounding away on the door with his nail-bat, grunting and screaming with each swing.

"Well, we've established that the macho bullshit approach isn't opening the door…" Addison remarked, eyes fixed on Xavier in her most condescending look. Mike was no stranger to that particular expression- she'd thrown it his way more than once, just before the shit had really hit the fan between them. "Any other suggestions?"

"Look who's talking. The only door you know how to open-" Xavier gestured toward her- "is between your legs!"

Motherfucker. Hating someone was one thing- Mike had more than his share of enemies, some he had created himself intentionally- but taking a stab at them like that was just low. Xavier didn't seem to learn his lesson; Mike cracked his knuckles, the unspoken threat drowned out by Addison's retort.

"Why don't you shut the hell up?!"

Once again, the verbal assault began, as per fucking usual. It was like being back in high school to some degree, only there was an overwhelmingly large possibility that they might die.

…Huh. It really was high school.

As Addison and Xavier were seconds from either beating the shit out of each other or one forcibly raping the other, Jonas got between them

"Keep the bullshit to a fucking minimum, alright?" Ava snapped. "I thought we figured out that fighting isn't gonna get us anywhere, so can we please just focus on getting out of this hellhole alive, okay?"

"Listen to the goth-broad, okay. Nobody takes shit from nobody, we've established that…"

"I'm not a goddamn goth, you fucking--"

The lights overhead flickered to life, casting an eerie yellow-green glow over the room and silencing Ava's furious retort.

Amanda padded heavily into the room, her face expressionless aside from this sense of resigned helplessness. Laura wasn't too far behind, and for some reason had decided to stick close to Ava as opposed to anyone else. The blonde stood next to her, nearly close enough for Ava to feel her breath on the back of her neck. Her upper lip curled. She didn't like having her personal space invaded.

"Did you find anything?" Daniel asked, the note of hope prominent in his voice. The kid had spirit at least, she reflected. Hopefully, he'd get outta here in one piece.

"No. Nothing." Laura said softly, as though whispering would spare her, or at least delay, the gas' deadly effects. She was already pale, her eyes beginning to become bloodshot.

"It'd help if we knew exactly what we were looking for," Ava muttered irritably. "Somehow, I don't think Jigsaw's gonna have a bunch of fuckin' gift-wrapped boxes with the antidote in them scattered around the house."

"Hey, keep the sarcastic crap to yourself," Jonas said sharply. "Right now, we don't need that shit. We need fuckin' answers and if you don't got 'em, don't say nothin' than don't need to be said."

Crossing her arms, Ava obeyed. As much as it pained her to admit it, he was right. But it was in her nature to be cynical and no amount of gas was going to rob her of that small aspect of her personality.

She glanced at Xavier almost out of paranoid habit, her eyes drifting over his bulging bicep and noticed a peculiar tattoo, the one that had drawn her attention earlier. A square-diamond with little symbols in each corner. Jonas followed her gaze and saw the tattoo.

"See that ink on your arm. That's Joliet. Right?"

Xavier turned, his stance immediately aggressive.

"Yeah. So?"

"I did a stretch there myself," he explained. Ava stared at him. Another jail-hopper? Fantastic.

"Proud of you," Xavier snapped back, his upper lip curled in a vicious sneer.

She considered making a comment, but refrained from it. She had decided to take Jonas' advice for the time being. No good getting mouthy and ending up with a nail-bat through her skull. Not high on her list of priorities at any rate.

"And you, what's your correctional facility of choice?" Their 'team leader' shot at Addison.

"What's your point?" The hooker looked unimpressed and in any other situation, Ava would've assumed that she was bored.

"My point is, you didn't get that way by teachin' grade school," he pointed out. "Right? That makes three of us that's done time." He looked around at the group. "I think we should be concentratin' on that tape, 'cos that tape said we had more in common than we know. I say, the three of us doin' stretches--"

"Hey!"

Laura. The blonde had moved away from Ava without her noticing and was now standing against the side of the stairs, her hands stretched out in front of her. "I found a door over here!" she exclaimed.

There was an air of distinct mistrust and reluctance at the prospect of going through that door, seeing as the last one they'd gone through had been to the room they'd all woken up in. Big risk.

Xavier moved first and Ava followed, mentally berating herself for going along with Jigsaw's sick fucking game.

"Xavier doesn't fuckin' get it," Mike muttered under his breath, just loudly enough that Ava could hear over the creaking steps that led into the basement. "We had a couple of 'run-ins' a while back…guy's as stubborn as a rock and about half as smart. You think fighting isn't gonna do shit, but we keep following him…we'll all end up dead as that poor greasy fuck back in that room we started out in." He wasn't sure if she was listening to what he had to say- or if she cared even if she was listening- but it needed to be said. The less time they spent around Xavier, the better a chance at survival they all had.

Then again, leaving him free to roam of his own accord was just as bad an idea as sticking around him. Mike wouldn't have put it past him to wait for someone else to find an antidote- and then finish them off from behind and take the antidote for himself. Dirty, opportunistic fuck- and he was hoarding everything of use that they had come across thus far, with the exception of the tape player, which Jonas still held. Maybe they would find something in the basement that could help- a weapon, or some powdered lye.

Administering the homemade antidote would be a problem if they didn't find a syringe. It couldn't be ingested, but getting it into a vein was all-but impossible without a needle. They'd have to find at least one antidote, if nothing else.

The basement was dark, and just as foul-smelling as the rest of the house, if not worse. A dank, cloying odor filled the air, choking out the actual oxygen in place of the thick, disgusting musk of the basement. The humidity and mold were already playing hell on Mike's sinuses; even in the face of the Jigsaw test and his possible death by Sarin gas, he couldn't help but lament the sinus infection that would follow if he did escape.

"Over there," Jonas murmured, pointing toward a shadowy mass in the center of the room. Xavier shone the flashlight toward it, revealing a cloaked figure, hunched over a rusty folding table, unmoving, even as the Latin drug lord circled around to their side. Jonas moved into position behind the figure, seized the cloak- and the figure's hair- jerked them back-

-and recoiled with a hasty "Oh, shit!" A mannequin- at least, its eyes looked like a mannequin, everything else was definitely realistic-looking- its face painted like some kind of grotesque, bloodstained clown, stared up at the room, a boot knife thrust into its chest.

"Fuckin' A…" Mike exclaimed, backing away toward the wall. The lights flared on abruptly. "Shit!" He whirled around, fists at the ready, looking for the sudden source of the light- and saw Daniel standing at the bottom of the stairs, his hand on a light switch. "Warn us next time, huh?"

Jonas echoed Mike's sentiments with a simple "Damn, kid…"

"Sorry." Daniel stepped past the switch, allowing the guy with the shaved head, Laura, and Amanda to pass him.

Come to think of it, they knew practically nothing about that guy. He had been slinking around in the back of the group, totally silent, even when the gun had gone off earlier. It was like he was watching them, waiting for an opportunity…but to do what? Was he the one responsible for everything? If he was, why was he in the house too? Had he already dosed himself with an antidote, just so he could watch everything that was happening? If that was the case, why were the video cameras scattered throughout the house? Who the fuck was Jigsaw, and why was he watching them?

There would be time to figure that out when…if…they got out.

"'Obi'? What the fuck is an Obi?" Xavier asked, holding up an envelope with the word written on it in black marker.

"AH-bi. It's my name." The creeper- from lack of a better word in Mike's mind- finally spoke. He was quiet- but not the sort of quiet that came from fear, like Laura or Daniel, or just soft-spoken like Amanda seemed to be when she wasn't screaming or having a nervous breakdown. It was more…menacing. That deadly calm that reminded Mike of 'that guy' in nearly every action and horror movie.

Double agent.

Sure, it might have just been his speech patterns, his voice- but he still sounded way too calm for the situation at hand.

Obi. The hooded creeper finally had a name to put to the face. And what a face at that. His voice sent a cold shiver up Ava's spine that was becoming all too frequent. She didn't like it. She was usually a fairly strong-hearted woman and yet, here and now, she was shivering like she was hung naked in a freezer.

Fuck.

There was a tape player in the envelope marked with Obi's name, which Xavier ripped out. Snatching the tape-player from Jonas, and thus the only resource they really had left, he put the tape in place, shut the top and pressed 'Play', the all too familiar voice of Jigsaw once again permeating the silence.

"Hello, Obi," the voice rasped. "I want to play a game. For years, you have burned those around you with your lies…cons and deceits. Now you have a chance to…redeem yourself…for the games you've played with others, by playing one of mine."

Obi moved over to the long, chillingly coffin shaped metal box in the middle of the room, knocking on the side and moving along. Checking for weak spots or just checking that it was hollow? Ava didn't know or care. Her attention was completely fixed on the tape in the Latino drug dealer's hand.

"In the device in front of you, there are two antidotes for the poison coursing through your veins. One is my gift to you for helping me kidnap the others…"

Ava's eyes widened. What the fuck was that? He helped him?

"The second is yours to donate. However, one will come with…a price. Remember, Obi, once you are in Hell…only the Devil can help you out."