MHA: Jigsaw Reborn

Chapter 8: Live or Die, Make Your Choice

(A/N: I forgot to ask, but how was the last chapter? Did you guys enjoy it? Anyhow, things are going to get a lot more juicy as Kramer starts to move his chess pieces. I wonder what butterfly effects this first major trap will have for MHA?)

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[2 Weeks Later]

[Narrator's POV]

The world was a blur.

Manual's head throbbed with pain, his vision slowly coming to his senses as he tried to recollect his last thoughts. It was the usual evening patrol on the streets, a peculiar time when the typical activities of a citizen slowed down as criminal activity started to rise.

It was a forced routine that Manual put himself through. The evening orange sky, as beautiful as it was, served as a constant reminder to him about that regretful event early in his career. The flames bore the exact hue as the sky when the sun says goodnight, so that every time Manual looked up, he would remind himself of his failure as a hero and to never make such a mistake in his life.

He remembered how empty the streets were. There were typically people crossing the street here or there, or an occasional fan that said waved, and there were always cars that whizzed by him. But not this time.

The only thing he could remember was a quick, yet sharp pain he felt on his back as if a knife or sword had grazed him. Then, he felt his body cease to move before blacking out and waking up just moments ago.

He groaned as he tried to move but his limbs felt heavy. Panic began to set in as Manual's eyes adjusted to the dim light around him. He realized he was sitting in a cold metal chair, his wrists bound tightly to the armrests, and his ankles shackled to the legs. A harsh, sterile light flickered overhead, casting eerie shadows on the damp, concrete walls.

However, two things immediately jumped out at Manual. The first was a clear glass container surrounding his head. It was as if he were sticking his head within an empty aquarium.

Looking above, Manual noticed a tube with a small opening about the size of a bottle cap or a coin. Connected to that tube was another container filled to the brim with water right above Manual, with the only thing holding all that water from drowning the hero being a valve situated in the middle of the tube connecting the two containers.

The second thing that caught his attention was the large container of water opposite him.

To be more specific, it was mounted to the wall opposite him, just below the odd placement of an antique television propped up on a stool, its screen blank and lifeless. The large container, which easily held multiple gallons of water, had 10 hoses extending out of it and connected to other empty containers with specific markings on them.

As Manual took in what he was seeing, his heartbeat intensified. He was in some sort of an underground room, possibly a cellar of sorts. With the exception of the containers around the room, the rusted pipes bordered the walls. His own strained breathing and the soft trickle of water from somewhere nearby were the only sounds audible.

"Where... where am I?" Manual whispered to himself, his voice trembling with fear.

Before he could fully process the situation, the screen of the television flickered to life with a loud buzz. Manual flinched, his eyes widening as a static-filled image began to form. Slowly, the picture cleared, revealing a figure he had never seen before.

A grotesque puppet with pale, cracked skin and dark eyes stared back at him, its mouth twisted into a sinister grin. The puppet wore a black suit, a blood-red bow tie, and spiralled red cheeks, its appearance both unnerving and surreal.