CHAPTER ONE
( TOXIC MINDS )

     AYSON KNEW SHE wasn't in her bedroom from the moment she awoke. Above her were rafters— endless rafters that made her surroundings seem like a cabin. But as she opened her eyes a little wider, and her vision was finally clear, she realized that it wasn't a cabin, but a warehouse.

The girl furrowed her eyebrows, retrieving her memory of the night before to search for an explanation. How had she managed to get here? Ayson had stayed at home, locked away in her bedroom to stare at the stars through her window. As the brunette reached to touch her now aching head, her hand was tugged back by something bound to her wrist.

It was a cuff with chains attached, which then led to where it was chained on the wall. Both of her wrists were bound to the wall behind her, she noticed. Ayson sat up in her spot, her confusion growing by the second. There were three people to her right, and two at her left; all of them restricted, too. At the moment, all of them slowly became aware of the situation.

"What the," a man beside her pauses, his green eyes darting to his surroundings. "Where are we? How did we get here?"

The brunette wanted to ask the same question, but didn't think she'd get a response from any of them. Three men, two women, and all of them were occupied with the cuffs on their wrists. With a pounding headache, Ayson sat up, leaning against the concrete behind her.

Ayson scanned the area around her again, trying to think of any possible explanation for what she was going through. Six people trapped in a warehouse, and chained up inside? It seemed like an episode of a kidnapping documentary, only it was happening to her. Or maybe she had gotten herself into this situation, and just didn't remember how.

"There are keys," Ayson speaks, catching the attention of the others. "They're hanging from the ceiling."

All of them were silenced at the sight; five keys dangling from pieces of disheveled rope that hung down from the rafters above them. She could've lurched up to grab one of them, only she couldn't due to the chains. Ayson was sure that if she did manage to get up, she probably wouldn't get far from the continuing pound in her head.

"Anyone else have a major headache?" The boy beside her asks, groaning as he places his head against the wall. "I feel like my brain is going to explode."

Ayson took to scanning over all the strangers around her. None of them were familiar in any way, which didn't help with the explanation she was looking for. But while she was staring, she grew aware that the boy beside her was quite handsome. If she wasn't so caught up with curiosity and incoming panic, she would've stared at his profile as long as time allowed. His hair, although messy, was adorable, and sculpted his face perfectly.

The staring led to narrowed eyes, her gaze stuck on a stitched cut that lied just below his temple. It looked like a fresh wound, the stitches new. As she continued to look over the others, she saw the same cut, same black stitches, same place. She tried to fit together too many puzzle pieces, sighing as she grits her teeth in frustration.

"How the hell are we supposed to get to the keys?" A woman, not much older than her, demanded. "I can't fucking move, let alone stand up to walk over there!"

"This is a joke, right?" The boy begins to question again, shaking his head as he jerks at the chains.

The warehouse was clearly abandoned, its walls stained with black splatters and overrun with vines and cobwebs. A large timer with red numbers shined brightly from a shelf in front of her. It was counting down from twenty seconds, sitting nearly sixty feet away from where they're positioned. Something about this seemed familiar, but Ayson couldn't place it.

"Everyone has a cut on the right side of their face," Ayson breaks their chatter again, looking into the eyes of the boy. "And there's a timer across from us, just to the left of five bolted doors. Ring a bell to any of you?"

The harder she thought about it, the more things fit into place. Ayson remembered reading about a serial killer in a magazine once— a serial killer that had supposedly been dead for years. But, as it seemed, he might not have been dead at all. If it was true, she was being forced into a game she didn't want to play.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," the same man from earlier shoots a glare in her direction, "right? That Jigsaw shit has been over for years, John Kramer is dead. We're dealing with a kidnapper with a sense of dark humor."

"Got any better explanation?" The boy rolls his eyes, siding with Ayson's suggestions. "Look, all we know is—"

In an instant, before any of them could argue, the lights of the warehouse shut off. The timer was now beeping, the numbers 0:00 flashing in red. At the moment, it was the only light illuminating the empty space, until a projector came on overhead, displaying a white picture on the wall before them. A puppet with scarlet cheeks and pasty complexion appears on the screen, before opening it's mouth to speak.

"I bet you're all wondering where you are," the raspy voice echoes, sending chills up Ayson's spine. "You're located in a warehouse far from your city, where no one will find you. And we're all here to play a game."

Ayson chokes out a cry, squeezing her eyes shut as he goes on.

"The six of you have managed to take others down with your lies, and that's no way to live. I'm here to change that. And in this game, there's no cheating."

"Fuck this!" The man growls, tugging at his chains again.

"Above you, there are five keys hanging from the ceiling. The objective is simple; release yourself from your chains and get to the doors to unlock them as quick as possible. The five of you that receive a key can open a door leading to the next room, and the last will not. You've probably already noticed the burning sensation in your head, correct?

"This is due to a capsule of hydrofluoric acid that has been placed inside your skull while you were unconscious. If you don't get into the next room before the timer runs out, the capsule will burst and dissolve anything in its path."

Ayson flinched, swallowing back her urges to cry. What had she done, and how had she gotten herself into this mess?

"You have five minutes to claim your key. And, remember; may the truth set you free."

The lights flashed back on, the projector shutting off. The clock on the shelf began to count down from their given five minutes, the keys shining against the light.

"We don't stand a chance against these chains," a new woman comments, rolling up the sleeves of her pantsuit. "How are we supposed to get out?"

Despite the panic setting into her veins, she thought over what he had said. But he hadn't revealed anything about how they would get out of the chains, only how to get into the next room.

"May the truth set you free," Ayson mutters under her breath, looking to the cuffs on her hands as she speaks louder, "may the truth set you free."

"What the hell are you mumbling about?"

"We're supposed to tell the truth," her voice cracks as she explains. "We have to tell everyone the reason why we're here."

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