Hey guys, XtremeManiac33 here. You may be surprised that I am writing a new story while I have one another sitting in the corner. I am not implying that I have abandoned the Final Fantasy IX story. I'm still trying to think of something to put alongside the story. While that's happening, this story will take its place. Don't worry, I'll continue writing it eventually. This one has a finished plot and I take priority of those with a finished plot. Now have fun reading this.

Trust In Him

Chapter 1: Prized Possession

The mechanical noise was just unbearable to hear. Heavy machinery filled the air with various car parts being pounded into metal sheets, aged conveyor belt pulleys tweaking at each rotation made, steadily transporting junk into a melting machine and a crane digging into a pile of old car parts before placing them on another conveyor belt. The only machine that didn't produce any sound was the compactor. The compactor stayed silent and untouched for a while, seems like left unattended for years. It was already loaded with one car, one that was brand new and didn't have any reason to be in that place.

Inside was a man, unconscious and unaware of his current location, shaved head and grungy street clothes that consisted of a white polo, blue shirt and denim pants. He was left there without any footwear, not that it was going to matter in his current situation. The man was sitting on the driver's seat, wearing his seatbelt, windows closed and doors locked.

"Ugh..." he groaned, as he began to wake. His vision, blurry, his train of thought, wrecked. It was like someone had whacked him with a large 2x4 from all the shaking his brain did. When he could properly process his environment, he began to panic.

"Hey! HEY!" Trying to move, he discovered that his right hand was handcuffed by the wrist to the steering wheel. No, not handcuffed, chained. He removed his seatbelt and tried to find a way out. Hands desperately bashing against the car windows, a realization came to him that he owned this car and that the windows were bulletproof, something that can't be broken by mere strength. "Someone get me out of here!" He screamed as he tried the door, but even if he could open it he would still be trapped. An alternative must be found. One was the rectangular hole he found on the roof of his car. It looked like he could escape through there, if he wasn't chained.

He tried looking at the back seat and saw a hacksaw lying there, hope began to reappear. Taking the hacksaw quickly, he began cutting the chains holding him from his freedom, only to realize that the saw was not making any progress. "Agh!" The man threw the now useless saw to his right in a fit of rage.

There a mysterious cassette tape lies on the passenger's seat. He examined the tape, which had the phrase Play Me on the other side. "What the hell is this?" Asking questions were not going to get him out his condition, so he put the tape in the player his car was costumed with.

"Hello Evan . I want to play a game." The man on the tape began, deep voiced and aged, and every word being said filled the man with dread. "You were born on this world with a lot of advantages over the vast majority of the population, but did you use these advantages for a good cause?"

"What the hell is this?" The man named Evan murmured to himself, struggling to understand what was happening.

"Your father made a living of making cars as a part of the top car manufacturers in the country, like your grandfather, while you on the other hand sold drugs through your father's connections. Let me ask you Evan, are you worthy of living? Today we will find out. You are chained to the steering wheel inside one of your most prized possessions. You have two minutes to decide your fate before the walls you have desperately tried to push back crushes you completely. In order to escape, you must sacrifice one of your most prized possessions, your hand. I ask you Evan, do you have what it takes to live among the deserving, or will the pressure be too much to handle? Let the games begin."

The car suddenly was activated; the lights on the front and back of his car were now lit, giving Evan a clear idea of how far were the walls from his car. A spotlight was turned on, lighting the inside of Evan's car through the large hole on the roof of his car, something he didn't notice immediately. Two minutes, and counting down, appeared on the car's clock, beeping every second the timer was one second closer to zero.

"No…" Evan whispered to himself. The crime that he has willingly committed, making him fully aware of the judgment that could be passed onto him. "NO!" Fear had found its way to his heart, the startling realization that death was two minutes away if he were not to act.

He had tried pulling the chain once again, using all of his strength, hoping that it may give away. His screams of desperation didn't help. Giving up on the chain, he now went for the steering wheel itself. But he didn't have it in him to pull out a steering wheel all by himself. He was not a hundred percent.

The hacksaw lay on the passenger's seat, taunting Evan of the freedom the tool ensured. Sawing into his flesh and bone didn't reassure Evan. Great pain would have to be realized in order to escape, but is he willing to feel great pain just to live through one day. He had already suffered family problems and the demons that his notorious drug trafficking have brought to him. Everything he has tried to forget has come back to haunt him.

"Don't make me do this!" He once again grabbed the hacksaw put the blade right beside the cuff. The mechanical device looked too old and rusty compared to the chain, used for construction one time too many. It looked like it was about to give up on him after he threw it earlier. "I can't! I can't do it." He began to feel hopeless.

One minute. He was wasting valuable time. He tried using the saw on the chain again, that was until the saw broke into two pieces, further eliminating the very few options of escape given. "It wasn't my choice!" he screamed into the air. Evan checked the compartment on the passenger's side, making its contents pour out once he opened it. There were pictures of him and other people. "Dealer and Customer", a phrase he found written on one of the photos.

In the photo was a bigger man, dressed to cover his identity. He was one of Evan's biggest customers, both physical and financial-wise. He forgot what his name was, for a name was not going to change anything.

"Help! Please someone help me!" He hammered on the steering wheel viciously, the horn loudly beeping into the night.

Then he saw the walls move slightly. The timer was close slowly wasting away his time. Evan tore his polo and desperately tied it to his forearm, trying his best to tighten it so the blood would stop flowing to his hand. "I can't do this. I can't do this!" There was nothing else he could do. Only one way out. If he had to do what a psycho tells him to do just to avoid death, then he had no choice.

When the clock reached thirty seconds, the walls shook once again, but this time, they continued to move inwards. Wide-eyed and the feeling of dread beginning take him, he searched for another saw in the backseat. Alas, there was none. He looked everywhere for another hacksaw and found something else under his seat: a backsaw.

Evan eyed the backsaw carefully. It was not even his. He didn't know whose it was; probably it was fate that placed that tool in his car. With hesitation, he placed the blade where he could begin cutting. The feeling of a dangerously sharp metal against his skin made him shake in fear. With eyes closed tightly and head turned, he began to move his left hand up and down. The saw began cutting through Evan's skin and muscle, blood just pouring out of the wound as Evan screamed in pain.

Metal walls closing in, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he slowly sliced through his arm. Blood dripped through the wound, often spraying about as he cut a nerve. Seeing the inside of his arm disgusted him, the tissue and muscle being torn apart by the backsaw. That was then when his mind snapped. He raised the backsaw high and slammed it down to his bone. A flash of excruciating pain was felt but held on.

The walls had already reached his car, slowly crushing it as the driver continued to brutally slice off his own arm. The backsaw reached the end of its journey, slashing through the last inch of the skin and tissue. Now free from the chain, he had to get out quickly, but he felt drained. A pool of his own blood dripped from the mutilated hand, more decorated his clothes and some on the seat, brakes and the steering wheel itself. He sloppily started moving for the large hole above him, his only route to freedom.

Feeling dazed from the blood loss, his slow crawl to the hole matched the speed of the walls, compressing car one inch at a time. "Almost there. Almost there." Evan whimpered, grabbing onto the edge and pulling himself up. At the sluggish pace he was going, it was as if the walls got a little bit faster. The compactor forced the car into a little tiny space, making Evan's escape smaller as time passed. He forced himself to fit through the hole, even as the metal edges cut his skin. "Need to push through."

Hope faded when he felt the roof slowly push its way into Evan's torso and trapped him where he stood. Screams of agony accompanied the noise around the junkyard, almost drowning the sound out so nobody could hear. The timer had already reached zero.

As he screamed in horror, he looked up towards the control room, where everything could be navigated and activated with a single push of a button. There he saw a hooded figure hiding in the shadows, only to be revealed by the button flashes of the console in front of the figure. He threw the backsaw towards the control room, a futile attempt at that as it didn't go far. "Save…me." He groaned, reaching for the figure as the walls finally met, crushing everything from the prized car and all of its insides to Evan's lower body, squishing the tissue, veins and bones into one single dead carcass.

That does it for this first chapter. As you can see, this is the opening trap. I did a minor edit in this chapter just recently, you won't notice it really. The real story begins in the next chapter. Review if you like. 'Till then, have a nice day.