Previously on NUMBERS...

"I guess I will.. uh… meet you at the end." Rachel said, releasing his hand and walking to the door.

"I love you." Puck said.

"I love you too." Rachel said, before they both entered the doors that they knew could separate them forever.

Puck entered a dark hallway; still severley depressed and worried, because he had just left the love of his life to fend for herself in this hell hole, and that could have been the last time they ever spoke, or even saw eachother for that matter, but at the same time he knew it was the right thing to do. He entered through the door after taking one last look at his beautiful girlfriend, and then scuffed down the hallway until he came to a dark colored table, and perched on it was a white box that almost blinded him. He opened it, and in it was a black piece of paper. Not knowing what to do with it, or what it even was, he shoved it in his pocket and continued on. After walking for a while, he then decided to shine his blacklight on it, and it read

'Knowing why you're here will most definitley not get you out of here free of harm; but knowing might give you some relief and satisfaction. You are one step closer to finding who put you here, and exposing the truth. And keep in mind who you are saving, time is on your side.'

Still shining the blacklight randomly, he found another door on the wall, and was shocked to see what it read...

Rachel stumbled into a room that was pitch black, and she stepped on something sharp.

"Ow!" She yelled, just as she fell backwards, catching herself on the wall, and apparently on the lightswitch.

She had stepped on a needle, and it was deeply in her foot. Usually, people would freak out about there being a disease in there or something, but as a kid, Rachel had to always have her blood drawn, because her blood was a different type then most people's, so she always donated it for the few that would some day need it.

She slowly pulled it out of her foot, and threw it on the floor. That's when she saw it. She screamed at the sight of what she thought was Finn Hudson, who was clearly dead, and was swollen up like a blueberry. The smell was enough to make her die right then and there, so she quickly ran out the door.

Matt awoke abrubtly to very cold feet; literally. He looked down to see that his hands were shackled and he was standing on a block of ice (which was melting very quickly because of the heat lamps nearby), with a noose around his neck. He was positined on top of the block of ice, which was part of a whole nother trap. He looked over to see that it was some sort of teeter totter, and that Artie Abrams was sitting unconscious on the other side, with his wheelchair strapped to the metal piece that he was perched on himself. His side was in perfect balance with Artie's, and he intended to keep it that way. If he lost his footing or the ice melted, the water would go over to Artie's side, and he would be electricuted by the two jumper cables attached to the edge.

"Artie! ARTIE! WAKE UP." Matt yelled, with no response.

"Let him sleep." A familiar voice said. A hooded person came out into the light.

"A-are you the killer?" He asked.

"No." The person said, removing the hood to reveal a very dark and hard to see Mike Chang.

"What are you doing here dude? Let us out?" Matt said.

"I can't." Mike said, stepping into the light, revealing a large device on his head (similar to the one Quinn had worn). "But I can make sure that you guys get out alive." He said, pointing at a row of computers.

"What's on there?" Matt asked.

"I'm monitoring somebody's tasks, and all they have to do is let 100 minutes go by before entering this room, and you will be released from the trap and we can all walk out without a scratch." Mike said.

"Who?" Matt asked, sternly.

"I'm not aloud to tell you." Mike said.

"I think I have the right to know who's fucking hands my life rest in." Matt yelled.

"I'm sorry. I can't tell you. Now stop yelling, it might cause you to fall off and kill us all." Mike said.

"How. I would only kill Artie and I if that happened." Matt hissed.

"No; when you guys die, I mean, if you guys die, the device on my head will be triggered and I will die." Mike said.

"Can you prove that?" Matt asked, while he was shown a card that he couldn't read.

"Here." Mike said.

"I can't see it." Matt yelled.

"Okay then. I will read it aloud to you. 'Mike Chang, the kid who never talked? Oh, well you sure liked to talk your way out of trouble, didn't you. Or you liked to talk other people out of their troubles, I should say. Or foresay maybe you didn't like it, it killed you on the inside, but you were good at it when you were forced to be. Before you are two friends that you lied out your ass off for to save from getting into trouble. You mustn't lie to them now, or to yourself. When their fate rested in your hands, you saved them. Now it lies in someone else's, and theirs a bit. If the person who is completing the tasks comes in that door before 100 minutes is up, then your time is up. It is not you who will be doing the saving anymore. Let your game begin, when they wake up, that is.'"

"Shit." Matt said.

Rachel had been walking for quite some time and had grown tired. She had just mindlessly been walking, when the floor just gave out from underneath her, and she landed in some sort of pit. She felt sharp pains all over her body. Luckily she hadn't fallen in head first, and she was able to see that she had fallen into a huge pit of glass shards. She struggled to find a way out. She took the blacklight out of her pocket and shined it, hoping to get a better view of the thing she had fallen in. She caught a glimpse of writing on the wall, and it said. 'The more you fight it, the worse it will get; but you know quite a bit about that allready.' In an overreaction and rage, she struggled more, angrily letting the glass cut deeper into her skin. She struggled around frantically, desperatley, and angrily for a while. She saw the blood seeping out of her, but she didn't even have the energy to care. She finally managed to grab the edge of the hole and drag herself out. She then collapsed next to the edge, sobbing and cursing herself for being so stupid.

"You've always been a stubborn one." The booming voice said.

"F-fuck you." Rachel said, weakly.

"You really need to learn to think before you act. It can really lead to so much pain, but you really already knew that." The voice said.

"Shut up! Shut up shut up!" Rachel said, and then screamed as loud as she could, throwing her hands to the ground.

"No. This is too much fun." The killer said.

"How in the hell do you find this fun, you sick bastard!" Rachel said, slightly proud of herself at the amount of cussing she had done while here.

"Well, this is a mental hospital you're in, maybe you're the sick one, not me." The killer said.

"Okay that is it. When I find you, I will beat the hell out of you!" Rachel yelled.

"Oh god, a one hundred pound girl is going to beat me, I'm so scared." The killer said sarcastically.

"Or I could just burn this place down to the ground. It wouldn't be too much of a challenge." Rachel said, exaggerating.

"Hey now, you wouldn't want your little boyfriend finding out what you did last time you had fire, now would you?"

Rachel froze in shock.

Sam awoke in a dark room, to hear a strange, high-pitched laughter. He jumped as the lights turned on, revealing that he was strapped to a chair, surrounded by mannequins that all looked too familiar. All of their mouths were moving, making the laughing noises. One by one, it seemed that they malfunctioned, and the laughs begin to get deeper and slow down, then one of the heads of the mannequin burst open, revealing a tape player just in his reach.

"What the hell?" He said.

He grabbed the tape player and pushed play

"Hello Sam, are you ready for your game?" It asked.

"Fuck no! What is this!" Sam yelled. The person on the tape recorder laughed sinisterly.

"Six years when you moved here, you seemed like a nice, boy next door kind of guy that would never do anything wrong, and you were always so nice to me. One day you even picked up my books for me after I had been pushed around by some football players. In my eyes, you were perfect. Boy, was I wrong. I know more about you then most. I know that in your senior year, you and your brother and sister were living on your own, due to the arrest of abusive parents. I felt nothing but sympathy for you. I even offered you a small job where my father worked, but you declined and walked away. I never really saw you much after that, until you came into my family business, and started stealing things. Oh, I know you had a perfectly good reason to, but that doesn't make it okay. You were stealing to live. You thought nobody saw, because you only did it a few times, and then you decided to stop stealing. Little did you know, you siblings didn't know any better, and thought that stealing was a way of life, and that it would be okay and go unpunished, so your siblings started stealing things. Stacey was nine and Stevie was eleven. They started living a life of fear, and crime, at age nine because of you. There was a difference though. You stole so they could stay alive, and they stole for the fun of it. And are they teenagers now? No one will ever trust them ever again, especially in the teenage years, kids are almost expected to steal at that age, and with a past of it, they will surely get blamed for every crime that goes on in Lima. And I know that Stevie has been in a lot of trouble lately, and he doesn't even care. And why do I care that you stole from my store? My dad blamed me for it. And he started becoming abusive after that. I bet your brain is spiraling, and you are trying to come up with who I could be, but I know that my store was not the only one being stole from. I can name all of them right now, without even exposing my identity. Let's see… The Hospital, The Grocery Store, The Video Game Store, The Candy Store, Kohl's, The Gas Station, The Bike Store, The Car Parts Store, oh my, have I gone off on a tangent. Well Sam, back to the point. I am now giving you a chance to change your ways, and understand the true meaning of family. There is a saw blade above you, and eight mannequins around you. You will face each one of them, and have a chance to save them from the saw. You must greet them and protect them, take there hand and press the button to say hello, but it is never that easy. You must sacrifice to save each and every one of them. If you fail at least half of them, the saw will move above you and kill you. You didn't know how to protect your own family, so now you must protect mine. Live or die Sam, make your choice. Let your game begin."

"Shit!" Sam yelled, as the device began turning. After a few minutes It stopped, and the chair he had been strapped to was moving up close to the doll. He took it's hand, as he was asked, and in doing so, a large metal bar slammed into his legs.

"Ahhh. Damnit!" He yelled, as his chair retracted back and the devicee began spinning again. It stopped, and the chair moved up. He grabbed the dolls hand, but didn't push the button, he was in too much pain. The saw blade positioned above came down on the doll's head, sawing it in two.

"Shit!" Sam yelled, realizing that would be him if he didn't save them all.

It began turning again. He greeted the doll, and the metal bar slammed into his legs once more. He screamed.

"Okay Sam, two more, it's okay. You can do this." He said, as it began to turn again.

He greeted the doll, and the bar slammed into his legs once more. He cried out in pain and agony once more.

The device spun once again.

"This is your last one, you can do it." He said to himself.

He took the dolls hand, but he couldn't make himself push it, and the dolls head was shredded.

"Damn!" He yelled.

The device spun again, and he was slowly moved up to the doll. With all of the strength he had, he pushed the button, letting the bar slam into his legs once more.

"Yes. Yes. I did it. I did it." He said, collapsing into the chair. The saw blade was beginning to slow down, and the chains that had been holding him down were unclasped, causing him to fall onto the ground. He slowly drug himself by his arms to the corner of the room, where he saw a wheelchair.

"Awesome." He said, dragging himself into it and heading out the door slowly and weakly.