Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt people!)

Nobody Dies Agnostic

    “Wesley, for the love of God,” The doctor replied, pinching the bridge of his nose.

     “You’re the one who went to medical school, became a surgeon, survived a Jigsaw test, got recruited by Jigsaw, decided to test a seventeen-year-old, decided to keep the seventeen-year-old, and then didn’t guard your fucking coffee pot. I’m just here for the free food and beverages. Give me alchohol.”

     “I will put you back. I will put you back outside,” Doctor Gordon said.

     “Won’t work, you fed me so I’m just gonna keep coming back,” Wesley replied. “Bitch.”

     “Swear jar.”

     “No, fuck you,” Wesley replied. “I don’t even have money, the swear jar is because you keep saying fuck at work, and you can’t do that because you have an actual job like a real person.”

      “You are deeply tiring. The game should be starting soon,” Lawrence said. “Out of my chair.”

     “Doctor Gordon cares not for Wesley? Doctor Gordon kicks Wesley from the comfy chair to ruin Wesley’s posture further? Jail! Jail for Doctor Gordon for one thousand years.”

      “Stop quoting Instagrams at me,” Doctor Gordon said, waving a hand and checking the monitors.

     “God, you’re fucking ancient.”

     “I am not that old,” Lawrence said. Wesley raised an eyebrow.

    “What’s a poggers?”

     “A made-up word that you say incessantly,” Lawrence replied.

     “All words are made up, geniu-”

      Wesley was cut off when the people in the nerve gas house began to wake up.

      “The game is beginning,” Dr. Lawrence said. Like that wasn’t super fucking obvious by the freaking out happening onscreen.

      “Which one’s Veronica?” Wesley asked, squinting at the grainy footage.

     “There is one singular teenaged girl on that screen,” Lawrence said.

     “Doc, that looks like it was shot on a fucking microwave,” Wesley replied. They’d been wondering why the video quality was so shit, at first, they’d thought it was a budget thing, but John had no problems when it came to money, neither did Lawrence. Wesley had no concept of a detective’s salary, but Mark didn’t sound like a hobby type of guy, and Welsey knew nothing about Amanda other than that she’d been one of the first acolytes Jigsaw had picked up. The conclusion Wesley reached was that they probably had shitty cameras because all of the people with money were old as fuck. John got a pass because he had actual brain cancer, but Wesley was pretty sure Lawrence didn’t know what a jpeg was.

     “She hasn’t woken up yet,” The doctor said, opting to ignore Wesley’s comment on their video quality. “Why do you want to know, anyway?”

     “You make great company, Doc, but I haven’t actually spoken to anyone my age in like, six weeks.”

     “I’m sure you’ll meet soon enough and you’ll have a new person to endlessly irritate,” Dr. Gordon said.

     “Damn right.”

     Watching people during long tests was a bit like watching those videos of hamster mazes. You know exactly what they should be doing to get out, but those hamsters sure don’t. The similarities end pretty shortly after that because Wesley has never seen a hamster throw another hamster into a pit of used needles. It was especially jarring when the hamster was a potential new friend. Wesley hoped Ronnie didn’t die in this trap, that would kind of suck a lot.
 
     Wesley did laugh when the son of the test subject and Veronica, one of the people orchestrating the test kissed. Because of Irony. Dr. Gordon wasted no time thumping them on the back of the head and telling them to shut up.

     “How the fuck does one even procure fucking nerve gas?” Wesley asked as one of the contestants- Laurie- seized on the floor.

     “Carefully,” Lawrence said.

     “Oh, you’re a prick. You know what I mean,” Wesley groaned.

     “Sarin- the gas being used, was developed in Germany in the late thirties as a pesticide.” Dr. Gordon said. “It comes from methylphosphonyl difluoride with a mixture of isopropyl amine and isopropyl alcohol.”

     “Doc. Those words are made up.”

     “I thought all words were made up,” Lawrence replied, turning back to the screens.

     “I hate you so much, what the fuck,” Wesley said.

     “They’re moving,” Dr. Gordon said, nodding at the screens. The cameras tracked Amanda, Veronica, and the Matthews kid running through the house, pursued by the scariest fucking dude Wesley had seen in their life.

     Their impression of Xavier- or as Wesley had taken to calling him, the big scary guy, didn’t get any better when he sliced off a slab of meat from his own neck. Wesley turned to express exactly how fucked that had been but stopped short when they noticed Lawrence’s white-knuckle grip on his cane. He wasn’t looking at Xavier, though. In the corner of the screen, Wesley could just make out what looked like a foot- oh.

      On a good day, Wesley avoided their test room like it was out to get them, and they hadn’t had to remove a body part. This most definitely was not fun for Dr. Gordon.

     Wesley wondered if the decaying corpse chained to the other wall had any significance to the doctor.

     Wesley figured it was best not to ask, and kept their mouth shut until Amanda plunged a syringe into Daniel’s neck.

     “They’ll be in the safe for a while,” Wesley said, testing the waters. “I’ll be right back with two cups of coffee.”

     “I’m fine,” Dr. Gordon said, waving a hand.

     “Who said the coffee was for you, bitch?” Wesley replied, standing and leaving. It was for him, but Lawrence was probably having a capital ‘M’ Moment right now, so Wesley figured he’d be in denial about wanting the coffee until it was right in front of him. Like a bitch.

     Besides, Wesley was becoming proficient in reading the various Dr. Gordon-isms, and they could definitely tell the man needed a second to think before he’d be a viable candidate for pestering.