SAW: Hoffman

Cyan

Cyan opened the door slowly and covered her mouth as her eyes beheld his new scar from beneath the shadows of his hood.

"Mark." She whispered in shock as he stared at her uncertainly, "What happened to you?"

"You don't know?" He challenged, stepping into the apartment and closing the door behind him, "I was tested by Jill Tuck, left to die in a bear trap. I managed to escape, breaking my hand and ripping my cheek in the process."

Cyan continued to back away as he advanced, his eyes focused on her face for any signs of deceit as they faced each other in silence.

"And now the LAPD are looking for me. It's been uncovered that I am a Jigsaw accomplice, and do you know who has access to that information? Huh?"

"Me." Cyan croaked as he dropped his hood slowly, "Mark, I swear. I haven't said a word to anyone."

He gripped her arm tightly and drew her face to his,

"You lie." He snarled, "WHO ELSE KNOWS ABOUT ME?"

"Hoffman." She gasped in an unsteady voice, "I haven't told anybody about you. I've been out of the city for the past few months on a college placement. The last time I was even near the LAPD was just after...What about Jill Tuck?"

"I know she's reported me." He replied dismissively, releasing her from his grip, "I needed to know if you were still on my side."

Cyan smiled wanly and sat down opposite him, rubbing her arm absently. Hoffman leant against the opposite wall, glancing out of the window as a cruiser sped past with growing unease.

"I know what you've done." She said after a moment of uncomfortable silence, "The news has been broadcasting the trap for most of the day. Please, Mark, you need to stop."

He stared at her in silence and shook his head, immune to her desperate pleas. His hands clenched into fists as her shocking dark eyes filled with tears.

"Your wound is bleeding. I have some rubbing alcohol that you can put on it."

He nodded once and shuddered as she walked into the kitchen, feeling icy cold fingers squeeze his heart as she looked over her shoulder and smiled at him.

'Please, don't be kind to me.'

Hoffman looked around the room at various photographs on the wall as Cyan placed a box on the wooden table, her slight hands trembling.

"The game is almost over." He ground out between his gritted teeth as she poured the rubbing alcohol on to a ball of cotton wool.

Mark hissed slightly as she pressed it to his open flesh gently, her eyes reflecting his own pain as she finished cleaning the wound.

"He's gone!" Cyan snapped finally, slamming the box shut, "Jigsaw has been dead for months! Why can't you just stop, Mark? If not for the people you're destroying, then for me. You promised me anything, and I'm asking you to stop the games."

"That's not possible." He responded with a grin, though he felt nothing inside, "The games have only just begun."

Cyan shook her head in dismay and held her hands out to him, palms facing upwards.

"There must be a better way. I need you to stop, Hoffman. Please, I just want you to stop."

He closed the distance between them and pressed a light kiss to her forehead as he closed his eyes briefly and drew out his weapon, the barrel focused on Cyan.

On the woman.

The woman who knew too much.

'There can be no emotions.'

"I'm sorry." He said flatly, feeling her tremble, "Nobody can know. I-Please forgive me."

Cyan held up her hands pleadingly as the dark eyes met the blue, the live eyes met the dead.

He saw the moment she realised his intent, the moment she stared at him with pure terror and hatred.

"Mark, don't do this. Please-"

'Game over.'
---

He headed down in the lift, ignoring the glances of a few residents as he shoved past them, the gun stowed away safely.

"Are you ok, son?" An elderly lady asked as he paused by the doors, "Are you one of Cyan's friends? She's such a lovely girl, isn't she? I've asked her to look after Felix this weekend, she's so good with animals."

Hoffman nodded, unable to speak. His throat seemed tight as he swallowed, forcing his mouth up into a smile.

"The best." He agreed, trying to ignore the memory of her pleas. His hands shook slightly as he pressed the button. 

Hands stained with blood.

"And such a beautiful young woman as well." The woman continued brightly, clutching her handbag tightly, "She deserves a handsome friend."

The lift was shrinking around him as Cyan Rivera appeared in the reflective surface, screaming his name.

He reached the ground floor and put a hand to his face, feeling the trails of tears staining his face. He had only cried this hard once before in his life, and that had been when he'd lost the only person he had ever truly loved.

Why was he crying?

Angelina had meant everything to him, but Cyan-

'I'm sorry. I never wanted this to happen. I-'

He couldn't bring himself to say it.

He pushed his emotions back as he got into the car, wiping a rough hand across his face.

'Do you like how brutality feels, Mark?'

Mark wished he had never laid eyes on her as he pulled out of the car park towards the junkyard, keeping his eyes fixed on the unmarked cars.

Every time he blinked, the images came rushing back and each time they did, he noticed another detail as she flew away from him.