A/N: Hello! Just wanted to make a quick note that the reason this is called 'Epilogue' is because it takes place at the direct end of the first Saw. However, it is indeed a PROLOUGE. Just wanted to clear that up..

Breath. Low, gasping breaths echoed through out the darkened room and lingered in the air, contradicting the unstill silence. Every so often a muffled whimper could be heard escaping from the lips of a young man shackled by his right ankle to a pipe. At first look at this boy, it would appear he was not human at all, instead some blistering monster. But still Adam sat, in the same position that he had been in for an amount of time that he did not know. His tear-streaked cheeks were illuminated slightly from the glowing remains of an 'x' that sat on the wall opposite, taunting him. Adam's head laid limp upon his front, and it was clear that all he truly wanted to do at that moment was sleep or die, whichever would take away his pain quicker. Oh, how the boy hungered for the pure bliss that unconsciousness would bring him, a temporary end to his pain, spite and memories. A medicine that no matter how hard he pleaded with himself, his body would not grant him. Instead, he was left alone with his nightmares, broken faith and haunting memories. 'There is no hope', he thought to himself. It was completely unknown to Adam that only a few hundred feet above a search was just resuming for the fifth day in a row. A search in vain for his escaped roommate, Dr. Lawrence Gordon. For the first few days in that… place, Adam had toyed with the idea that Lawrence would get out, and come back for him. But now, in his heart, he knew that he wasn't going to get out of there alive.

Already, the scent of death and decay had settled in his nostrils. Although he seemed to be getting used to the putrid smell, he couldn't help but gag every few minutes, although, that might have just been the mere thought of where he was sitting. Adam could not clearly see what state his body was in, but he could tell it was bad. His ankle ached from the chain that was wearing deep welts into his flesh and his arm felt like it was coming apart at the shoulder where the bullet had entered him. The boy closed his eyes could feel the stiff, stickiness of dried blood covering his legs and staining his jeans. He almost puked right there. It was a rancid mixture of his own blood and of another man's who had made the mistake of trying to kill him. Well, there would be no mistakes made now.

Adam clenched his teeth and shifted his weight off of the pole, feeling his body tremble in the process. Again he felt a sharp slice of fire cut across his arm as if another bullet had entered him and cried out. He knew that if lack of nutrition didn't kill him, an infection surly would. The thought of this made him smile, and he realized how truly mad he had been driven. He would give anything to get out. Moving back to the pole, Adam felt his free limb brush against what seemed to be Zepp's face, and heaved, spilling the little contents of his stomach onto the bathroom floor. How long had he been here? He didn't know, but he was willing to bet that he, in his mind at least, wouldn't be there much longer. Adam allowed his head to fall, once more, towards the ground, finally falling victim of fatigue and insurmountable pain. He was at last greeted by the comforting darkness of sleep.