I thought this would make a good multi-chapter fic, but I don't know. I feel like this is destined to be a one-shot.
So, I was talking to my friend, Jaime during lunch today about the movie Saw. Well, I haven't seen it but he has and he was telling me that at one part in the movie, a guy is chained to a wall and put it a room. And the only way out is to use the saw...
AND THEN I THOUGHT OF SEVERUS AND VOLDEMORT!
So, obviously, this is dedicated to Jaime!
"I have no use for you anymore," Voldemort snarled as he practically dragged Snape by his hair down the dark corridor. Severus was weak and he was tired- and he wanted to stop moving. But Voldemort had clearly stated that he needed to be moved.
After weeks of being tortured for information, Severus was ready to give up. Just enough food and water to keep him alive, the Cruciatus over and over, and even more painful and potent spells, Severus had had enough. For the past few weeks, Voldemort had said the same thing:
"Just give me some information, and I will set you free from your agony."
The offer was so inviting... but no! He would not do it. He would not betray Dumbledore or the Order or any soldier of the light. He couldn't. It wasn't right.
When would the Headmaster come for him?
They reached an open door and Voldemort pushed him inside. Severus fell to his knees, his hands broken and his legs nearly. He couldn't hold himself up and he collapsed. Voldemort gave a cold, high-pitched laugh. "Ah, look at you. You pathetic nothing. I don't need you anymore. You have suffered for your betrayal. But not enough. I still have more in store for you." Voldemort sighed. "However, now you are too weak. You don't entertain me anymore. I'm bored with you. So now... you can torture yourself!" He laughed again and shut the door, walking over to the corner of the room. On his way, he dragged his prisoner by the collar and tossed him aside. He tugged at a chain and let it wrap around Severus's ankle. It clasped in place.
"You see, Severus, I have more important things to do than torture you. You deserve punishment, but you can't go on wasting my time if you are not even going to make it worth my while. So I've decided to let you do it on your own. You see this chain, Severus? It's an Unbreakable. No matter what you do, you can't release it from your ankle. You can't cut it. You can't explode it. Nothing. So there is no escape." Severus looked down meekly at the chain and sighed. So he was stuck here for good.
"But, because I am so merciful, if you really, truly want to leave, you can. There is a way. And if I see you leaving, I won't stop you."
"What do you mean?" Severus muttered.
Voldemort's eyes glittered. He walked over to another corner and picked up a saw.
"It's either your leg or your life, Severus. Cut your leg off and hobble home. Or stay here and die of hunger. Because I'm not coming back. There's a special lock on the room. It locks the door from the outside, but it keeps it open within. So you can leave. But I can't go in. A life or a leg." Voldemort banged the saw's flat side against his pale hand. "Your choice." He put the saw down near Severus and walked towards the door. He opened it, turned, and looked back.
"It's not like if you died anyone would miss you. Or that the world would have lost something useful. I don't see why you should inflict even more agony upon yourself if it'd be better for all of us if you just died." And with that... touching... message, Lord Voldemort left the room and never returned.
Severus looked around. The room was gray. The walls were gray, the floor was gray. There was nothing in the bare room, besides the door, a tiny barred window, the chain connected to the ankle and the wall, and of course, the saw.
The sharp edge of the saw glistened in the tiny bit of moonlight that streamed into his room. Severus looked out the window. How long had it been since he was out there? Would he ever go back?
And if ever did, he would be less of a man than he was before.
...Suppose he did cut off his leg, what would happen? Well, first, he would scream because of the interminable and horrible pain that he would feel. Then he would start to bleed a pool of blood. Once he covered the wound with something, he would have lost so much blood that he would be terribly weak. Then he would have to hobble or crawl over to the door, push it open, and go outside. He'd have to hobble or crawl out onto the grounds, away from the mansion. Then, if he had enough strength and concentration, he would Apparate to the Forbidden Forest, hobble or crawl to the castle, and be brought to the Hospital WIng. And Mad-Eye Moody would be the only person willing to talk to a one-legged man.
And, of course, if he could not Apparate, he'd have to crawl home! He might even die on the streets!
He had to admit, there were less pros than cons on this topic.
But what if didn't cut off his leg? Slowly, he'd die of starvation. But that wouldn't take long. What was it, three days without water before you die?
He could wait.
It seemed that waiting was the right thing to do. He leaned back against the wall and dozed off...
"Well, well, well, Dumbledore, have you lost something?" Voldemort laughed cruelly.
To the other man's surprise, Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, well, I have. I have lost a brave and noble solider who died without breathing a word. His death was not in vain. And if he had the opportunity to return to his home, he would have."
"Yes, well, you do not know everything Dumbledore..."
Dumbledore looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"Severus had the chance to leave," Voldemort said. "I gave it to him. But he chose to die. He chose to let you down.
"He chose to let you suffer like this...
Severus woke up, startled. Oh, how could he leave the Headmaster! He wouldn't be unfair to Severus even if he was missing a leg! Others might, but not Dumbledore!
He had to leave! He had to go back to the Headmaster.
Severus picked up the saw and cut off a long strip of cloth off of his sleeve. He put it to the side. He would need it to wrap up the wound.
Now, to do the actual cutting.
He remembered from Muggle school that when someone had a leg or an arm amputated (which made no sense to him!), you would have to cut at the knee or the elbow. Something about the limb... he didn't remember all the details. But he knew how to do it.
He put the saw right underneath his knee.
He was ready for this.
With a deep inhale of breath, he moved his arm back and forth.
Oh, the pain! His nerves tingled with agony and he screamed! But he couldn't stop, he had to keep going. He needed to be free. The Headmaster, remember Dumbledore!
Back and forth, back and forth, hurry, hurry!
The leg was coming off. He could see the blood and the muscle tearing. He shouted in pain. His vision was bleary from the tears- water and blood.
Back and forth, back and forth...
He had to keep going!
He was half way there! He had to stop, it hurt too much, he had to stop, he was cutting BONE!
Ligaments, bones, and muscles alike ripped and broke in front of his eyes. It was like one of those horror films his father liked watching.
The ones he sometimes had had nightmares about.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, the chain was off.
And so was his leg.
He grabbed the scrap of cloth and tied it to his wound, still crying in pain. He stood on one leg, leaning against the wall.
He hobbled to the door and put his hand on the knob...
But the door was locked.
I am EVIL! I know!