The Chains That Bind - MLM (John Kramer X M!Reader)

Chapter 1: Shadows of Silence

The weight of the evening clung to the streets of the city like a suffocating blanket. Even the flicker of passing headlights could not cut through the haze in your mind. The heavy steps of your boots echoed on the cracked sidewalk as you made your way home. It wasn't much of a home, though. More like a cage, with its peeling paint and the bitter stench of whiskey that lingered in every corner.

Your father would be home by now. Drunk, no doubt. The thought filled you with that same dull ache that had haunted you for as long as you could remember. Every morning you woke, and every night you fell asleep hoping that maybe today, something would change. But nothing ever did.

In a lot of ways, you felt like you were already dead.

Tonight, though, something else gnawed at the edge of your thoughts. You had noticed it for a few weeks now: a strange feeling, like you were being watched. You brushed it off at first, thinking it was just paranoia. But now, every time you walked home, the sensation grew. And yet, you never saw anyone when you glanced back.

The front door to your apartment groaned as you pushed it open. The muffled sound of a TV blaring in the next room signaled that your father was still awake.

"Late again," his gruff voice slurred from the living room. The smell of cheap beer and stale cigarettes hit your nose immediately. "You think you're too good to spend time with your old man, huh?"

You clenched your jaw, choosing not to respond. You had learned a long time ago that nothing you said would make a difference. Silence was your only defense.

You slipped past the living room, heading toward your bedroom. Your sanctuary. Or at least, the closest thing to it. You shut the door behind you, resting your back against it, trying to shut out the world, trying to shut out him. But the noise and the memories were always there. The angry words. The bruises. The disappointments. The hope that had dried up long ago.

Sitting on your bed, you stared at the small pile of unopened bills on your desk. The rent was overdue. You worked a dead-end job that barely paid enough for groceries, let alone any kind of escape. It was like the universe was taunting you, keeping you trapped in a life you didn't want. A life you didn't ask for.

You had thought about ending it before. More than once. But something always pulled you back. The idea that maybe, just maybe, things could get better. But that hope was fading fast.

............

Across the city, John Kramer sat in the dimly lit room of his workshop, watching the live feed from the small camera he had hidden across from your building. His eyes narrowed as he watched you retreat to your bedroom, your face pale, dark circles under your eyes. There was something about you-something familiar. The quiet desperation. The way you moved through life, burdened by invisible chains.

John had been observing you for weeks now, evaluating your routine, your behaviors, your interactions-or lack thereof. He saw the way you flinched every time your father spoke. The way you lingered on the edge of bridges or hesitated before crossing busy streets. The hollow look in your eyes was something he knew all too well.

A perfect candidate.

But there was more to you than the others. More than just someone lost in a world of pain. He could see it-the potential. You weren't broken. Not yet. But you were close. And John knew, in his twisted way, that he could give you something no one else had ever offered.

A choice.

But first, you had to be tested. You had to learn that life was something worth fighting for. John leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hand over his jaw, the bones beneath his skin sharp and defined. His cancer was spreading-he could feel it every day. It gave him a strange kinship with people like you. People on the edge, desperate for control in a world that offered none.

He clicked off the feed and turned to the blueprints scattered across his desk. Amanda, his apprentice, would help set the pieces into place. But he would be the one to guide you through it. Slowly. Carefully.

.............

The next morning was no different. You left for work early, barely exchanging a word with your father as he slept off another hangover. The cold morning air bit at your skin as you walked down the same path you had taken a thousand times before. The weight of your life dragged at your steps.

But this time, you noticed something.

A small package lay on the ground in front of your apartment door. There was no label, no indication of who it was from. Just a plain brown box. You hesitated, glancing around, but no one was there.

Curiosity got the better of you. You knelt down and picked it up, feeling its surprising heaviness. When you opened it, a chill ran down your spine. Inside was a single cassette tape. No markings, no note. Just the tape.

Your fingers shook slightly as you took it inside and placed it in your old cassette player. The sound of static filled the room before a voice emerged-calm, measured, and unmistakable.

"Hello, I want to play a game."

Your breath caught in your throat. The voice was familiar, though you couldn't place it at first. And then it hit you. Jigsaw. The news had been filled with stories about him, about the brutal traps he constructed, and the people who barely escaped them.

But why you?

The voice continued. "Your life has been a series of choices. Choices you have made, and choices others have made for you. But now, the time has come for you to take control. You've lived your life in the shadow of your father, in the shadow of your pain. Now, I offer you the chance to free yourself. But freedom comes at a price."

The tape clicked off, leaving you in stunned silence. Your pulse raced, and your mind spun in a thousand directions. It couldn't be real. Could it?

Outside, unnoticed by you, John Kramer watched from a distance. His lips curled into a slight smile. The first move had been made. Now, it was only a matter of time before you stepped into his world.