A/N: two chapters in one day, my lovelies!
Chapter 5: Potential
(Grissom)
Every step he took through the maze-like corridors was one step farther from the man he had killed. Sure the guy deserved it, but he was starting to feel…unclean…once the shock wore off. He had just killed a man, a man who was far from innocent.
He soon arrived at a door with a tape player hanging on its door knob from a string. He removed it and pressed 'play'.
"Hello again, Mr. Grissom. We are so glad you decided to do what needed to be done back there, otherwise the three of you would have choked to death on carbon monoxide gas. Your game has only just begun, and to continue, you must enter the room before you."
The tape ended and he placed a hand on the door knob, looking down the hall before he opened it. The room was lit up like a dark room; a red safelight gave the room a red hue. He could see what looked like a person tied to a chair, but they were covered by a sheet. There was a table to the right of the person that had another tape player, a brick, a baseball bat, bolt cutters, a knife, and a meat cleaver. Looking back at the person under the sheet, who hadn't moved, he reached to remove said sheet. A shrill, high-pitched alarm sounded, startling the person into consciousness, as well as nearly giving Grissom a heart attack.
As he heard muffled moans of confusion and panic, an overhead projector screen unfurled, revealing the words 'DON'T DO THAT'. The person blindly looked around under the sheet, their head swiveling from side to side, and Grissom played the tape on the table.
"Your entire career is based on finding criminals, people who commit unspeakable cruelty, but you never get to deliver justice. Your first test gave you a taste of that, and you enjoyed it, didn't you? We all know you did, even if it was deep down. In front of you is a man who is guilty of murder. You must be familiar with the phrase 'thou shalt not kill'. Now, you must be curious, since you just killed a man."
He glanced at the trembling form under the sheet.
"That was to prove the point that all people are capable of murder. Serial killers, cops, you, and your companion. The test, is whether you get to deliver justice. The man in the room with you killed another human being and didn't serve a lick of jail time. Kind of goes against our so-called Court of Law, doesn't it. So will you deliver justice for the man who was ran down, or will you leave that for us, the seasoned killers? You have five minutes to deliver rehabilitation through pain. You must crush his right hand and his right foot, or cut them off, if you prefer. After you release him, he will be instantly cleansed. If you fail to complete your task in five minutes, or you choose not to deliver justice, then the fire sprinklers will go off, showering the room in hydrofluoric acid .If you cut him free before rehabilitating him, the sprinklers will go off. Let your second test begin."
Another time started counting down and the man under the sheet's muffled whimpers was heard as he started crying. He reached to remove the sheet again, but the alarm sounded, making them both jump. He could hear a whooshing sound above them, like the sound of liquid being reintroduced into the pipes.
'Come on, Gilbert, you have to outsmart these guys.' he thought, looking around the room. There was only one camera in the room, but it was protected by a cage of some sort. Besides the chair and the table, there was no other furniture. He began to pace, looking from the man in the chair, to the table, to the timer. He now had four minutes to crush a man's hand and foot. There was no way he was going to sever them.
'Not a man, a murderer. The tape said he ran down another man and didn't pay. That…that makes this justifiable, right? Besides, you're not going to kill him, and if you don't go through with this, you'll both die.' he thought, his mind seemingly rationalizing what he was about to do.
With three and a half minutes remaining, he picked up the bat, still unsure he wanted to go through with this. Through the whimpers, Grissom thought he heard the man try to say 'please don't.', albeit muffled. He hesitated and lowered the bat, looking back at the camera. He didn't want to do this!
He sighed and tried to regain his nerves as he raised the bat again. Praying he was doing the right thing, he swung down on the man's bare foot, trying so hard to ignore the pained screams as he repeatedly bludgeoned the foot. Once he heard some of the metatarsal bones break, he moved on to the hand.
He knew the man was in immense pain and was begging for him to stop, and he wished he could, but he couldn't. Time was running low.
"I'm doing this to save you. You heard that tape, and this won't kill you, so just…tough it out, okay? This is nothing compared to the acid that'll rain down in…two minutes." he said, preparing himself to destroy another part of the un-convicted murderer.
He swung down again and again, trying not to watch the man's hand curl up into a fist and re-open repeatedly, like he was squeezing an invisible stress ball. After hearing more cracks and snaps, he dropped the bat and reached for the sheet. When no alarm sounded, he removed it.
"Oh my god..." he said, locking eyes with the terrified man gagged and restrained in front of him.
"No, no, no nonono! Greg, oh my god!" he said, grabbing the bolt cutters to remove the ankle shackles and pairs of handcuffs. After cutting them off, he removed the gag with twenty seconds remaining.
"It's not…not your fault." Greg said, grimacing at the sight of his mutilated hand. Grissom tried to ignore the look of hurt and fear Greg cast at him when the sheet was pulled away, not doing a good job at it.
"Come on, the door's right over there. We can make it." he said, letting Greg lean against him for support as he stood. After all, it was the least he could do…he'd carry Greg if he thought it'd help.
He still had the bolt cutters in his free hand as they made it out of the room. He shut the door and they started moving down the hall at a slow, yet steady pace.
"Oh God, Greg, I don't think I can ever stop apologizing for this. If I knew it was you, I wouldn't have done it." he said, glaring at a camera they were nearing.
"Yes you would have." Greg said. They stopped and he looked at his younger colleague. "I would have made you. A few broken bones are nothing compared to a hydrofluoric acid bath." Greg added.
"You could lose your job." he said.
"Better that than both of us dying in some middle-of-nowhere…wherever." Greg said, wincing.
(Lawrence Gordon)
His head was spinning with pain as he sat up. There was blood everywhere and it took him a minute to remember what had happened. Then it all came back: the new game, the crime scene investigators, Hoffman…
He opened the door and slowly stepped out of the car, blood oozing down the side of his face. He slowly limped back inside the lair after being unable to find his cane. He heard someone yelling and slowly neared the main office. He was unnoticed as he stood in the doorway, watching Hoffman, Brad, and Ryan. They were all looking at a screen where a gray-haired, but not necessarily elderly man, about his age, was yelling into one of the cameras.
"He killed that man to save the life of another! Demetrius James was a low-life gang member who beat up tourists for fun! Greg Sanders didn't deserve what you put him through!" the man yelled, suddenly looking away, listening to another man urging him that they needed to get out of there.
"Well if it isn't the three little psychopaths." he said, announcing his presence as he grabbed his cane from the ground.
"Gordon?" Brad asked, looking surprised.
"I thought you said you killed him!" Ryan said. Hoffman stood, glaring daggers at the blood-covered face of Lawrence Gordon.
"You three showed such potential. You could've made excellent partners." Gordon said, taking a step forward as he leaned on his cane.
"I was an excellent accomplice. Better than Amanda Young. Better than Jill. Better than you." Hoffman said.
"Really? You think killing John's wife and half the police force to get to her was you beingng loyal to John?" he asked.
"I never served John Kramer. Unlike you, I have an agenda." Hoffman said.
"Really, detective? I hope you have nothing planned for the next…rest of your life." he said. Brad and Ryan looked at each other when he said the last part.
"You-" Hoffman started to accuse.
"Yes, I called the cops. They should be here any time now." he said.
Hoffman started laughing, a low chuckle. "You didn't have a phone on you." the detective said. They heard a loud bang, a gunshot, on the screens and looked. He used this to his advantage and limped as fast as he could, swinging the cane at Hoffman's head. He hit his target and the larger man fell.
"Fine. You want to do this the hard way, then we'll do this the hard way." he said, looking at Brad and Ryan, who seemed both excited and scared shitless.