About
Oh, hello. Are you here about negotiating prices for housing?
... no? Then what are you doing here?
You want to know about me? Why are you interested?
Oh... you've heard about my little incident with Jigsaw, eh? I see. Well, I suppose I could tell you about it.
Well, for starters, I'm a senior VP for a real estate development company.
As for the Jigsaw incident... I woke up in a sewer with a collar around my neck. Four other people were there as well, in the same situation I was in. Mallick, a nervous, twitchy young man, automatically assumed that we were in a Jigsaw trap. My only reply to him was this:
"No, it's not Jigsaw. He's dead."
The TV in the room flickered to life, and a puppet appeared on the screen, saying "Five will become one, with the common goal of survival." He stated that while our "lifelong instincts will tell you to react one way, I implore you to do the opposite." The first part of our test involved pulling against a cable to get a key at the other end of the room to release ourselves. The consequence for not completing the trap was to be beheaded. We decided that we needed to work quickly, since nail bombs were set to go off in the room once the timer counted down. Mallick got anxious and ran ahead, starting the timer. In the end, everyone except for Ashley, who we learned was a fire inspector, got their keys. Ashley, however, was eventually beheaded by the blade once the cable was pulled tight. Luba and Charles walked through a door to the next room, while I stayed behind to grab the keys they left in the collars, as well as the key meant for Ashley's collar.
After grabbing the rest of the keys, Mallick and I joined the other two in the next room. Before shutting the door, we talked about each of our professions. Charles was an investigative journalist for a gossip magazine called The Herald. Luba worked at the Department of City Planning and granted building permits. Mallick was just a lazy junkie kid. We barely managed to shut the door before the bombs in the previous room went off, and the next test began. In that trap, we had to smash jars filled with glass to find keys that would allow us to enter bomb shelters before another nail bomb went off in the sewer. Mallick didn't think the bombs were relevant, and asked me how I knew they were.
Educated guess.
There were four bomb shelters, but only three of the keys would fit the locks. The puppet told us to decide which of us would "be the odd man out." Mallick started to smash the jars with a pole. Charles proceeded to beat Mallick with another pole down to the ground, with the intent of sacrificing Mallick's life so the rest of us escape to safety. Luba and I were able to pick up keys that fit the locks, and I climbed to safety inside two of the three bomb shelters. Mallick attempted to pick up a key, but Charles stepped on his hand and took it. Just as Charles was about to enter his shelter, Luba hit him with a pole and gave the key back to Mallick, and the two entered the other shelters, leaving Charles to die by the explosion. After the room cleared, we climbed out of the shelters, where we saw Charles' mutilated body.
The guy was an a*****e, but he was smart. We could've used him.
Oh well. We entered the next room, where we found a dirty bathtub filled up halfway with even dirtier water. For this test, we had to find a way for five cords of electricity to make it into the tub and complete a circuit, opening the door to the next test. However, the cords weren't long enough to reach the bath water. Luba finally realized that we needed to use a person's body as an electrical conductor, and decided that Mallick was the one she wanted to sacrifice. After he refused, she swung a pipe at him, and he landed in the bathtub. Just before she moved towards him, I picked up one of the electrical circuits and stabbed her in the neck. Why?
I didn't trust her.
Mallick and I used Luba's body for the electricity to reach the bath, and the door opened to our final test. A long box sat in the middle of the room, filled with circular saws and an empty beaker. Our task was to fill the beaker with 10 pints of blood. If the beaker was filled with the labeled volume of our blood, the door to the room would unlock and we will be free to go. Originally, Mallick thought that it would have to be a fight to the death, and the winner would get to use the other person's blood to fill the beaker… but then we saw the five holes. It was then that I realized that every game was designed for five people. Only one key was needed to unlock each neck restraint in the first trap; the bomb shelters had room for two in the second trap; and each person could have sustained a mild electric shock to complete the circuit in the third trap.
I explained it to Mallick, telling him that we were supposed to work together so we all survived. Mallick's only comment was "Whoops." Yeah.
Big ******** whoops!
We decided that each of us would sacrifice 5 pints of blood, and possibly survive. As we readied ourselves for the task at hand, we discussed our lives and why we thought we were being punished, and he admitted to having burned down a building that still had eight people living in it. And then it clicked.
The fire. It's what connects us. The fire inspector who worked the bogus accident report. The city planner who pushed through the residential permits. The journalist that buried the investigative story. The rich kid junkie who was the patsy. And the real-estate developer who set it all in motion. We killed eight people. And stole the property, and nobody cared.
Mallick scolded me and called me a monster. You know what, Mallick?
So are you.
With no other options, we each stuck one arm in the machine and began sawing our arms in an attempt to fill the beaker with 10 pints of our blood. Finally, the beaker filled to the top, and we removed our arms from the machine. Both of our forearms were split in two.
We did it... We won...
Mallick passed out, and I crawled into a nearby room, using a meat hook as a way to drag myself along. A police chief found me and called for medical assistance. Both Mallick and I survived, and I guarantee that we've learned our lesson. The scars on my arm serve as a constant reminder of that.
... no? Then what are you doing here?
You want to know about me? Why are you interested?
Oh... you've heard about my little incident with Jigsaw, eh? I see. Well, I suppose I could tell you about it.
Well, for starters, I'm a senior VP for a real estate development company.
As for the Jigsaw incident... I woke up in a sewer with a collar around my neck. Four other people were there as well, in the same situation I was in. Mallick, a nervous, twitchy young man, automatically assumed that we were in a Jigsaw trap. My only reply to him was this:
"No, it's not Jigsaw. He's dead."
The TV in the room flickered to life, and a puppet appeared on the screen, saying "Five will become one, with the common goal of survival." He stated that while our "lifelong instincts will tell you to react one way, I implore you to do the opposite." The first part of our test involved pulling against a cable to get a key at the other end of the room to release ourselves. The consequence for not completing the trap was to be beheaded. We decided that we needed to work quickly, since nail bombs were set to go off in the room once the timer counted down. Mallick got anxious and ran ahead, starting the timer. In the end, everyone except for Ashley, who we learned was a fire inspector, got their keys. Ashley, however, was eventually beheaded by the blade once the cable was pulled tight. Luba and Charles walked through a door to the next room, while I stayed behind to grab the keys they left in the collars, as well as the key meant for Ashley's collar.
After grabbing the rest of the keys, Mallick and I joined the other two in the next room. Before shutting the door, we talked about each of our professions. Charles was an investigative journalist for a gossip magazine called The Herald. Luba worked at the Department of City Planning and granted building permits. Mallick was just a lazy junkie kid. We barely managed to shut the door before the bombs in the previous room went off, and the next test began. In that trap, we had to smash jars filled with glass to find keys that would allow us to enter bomb shelters before another nail bomb went off in the sewer. Mallick didn't think the bombs were relevant, and asked me how I knew they were.
Educated guess.
There were four bomb shelters, but only three of the keys would fit the locks. The puppet told us to decide which of us would "be the odd man out." Mallick started to smash the jars with a pole. Charles proceeded to beat Mallick with another pole down to the ground, with the intent of sacrificing Mallick's life so the rest of us escape to safety. Luba and I were able to pick up keys that fit the locks, and I climbed to safety inside two of the three bomb shelters. Mallick attempted to pick up a key, but Charles stepped on his hand and took it. Just as Charles was about to enter his shelter, Luba hit him with a pole and gave the key back to Mallick, and the two entered the other shelters, leaving Charles to die by the explosion. After the room cleared, we climbed out of the shelters, where we saw Charles' mutilated body.
The guy was an a*****e, but he was smart. We could've used him.
Oh well. We entered the next room, where we found a dirty bathtub filled up halfway with even dirtier water. For this test, we had to find a way for five cords of electricity to make it into the tub and complete a circuit, opening the door to the next test. However, the cords weren't long enough to reach the bath water. Luba finally realized that we needed to use a person's body as an electrical conductor, and decided that Mallick was the one she wanted to sacrifice. After he refused, she swung a pipe at him, and he landed in the bathtub. Just before she moved towards him, I picked up one of the electrical circuits and stabbed her in the neck. Why?
I didn't trust her.
Mallick and I used Luba's body for the electricity to reach the bath, and the door opened to our final test. A long box sat in the middle of the room, filled with circular saws and an empty beaker. Our task was to fill the beaker with 10 pints of blood. If the beaker was filled with the labeled volume of our blood, the door to the room would unlock and we will be free to go. Originally, Mallick thought that it would have to be a fight to the death, and the winner would get to use the other person's blood to fill the beaker… but then we saw the five holes. It was then that I realized that every game was designed for five people. Only one key was needed to unlock each neck restraint in the first trap; the bomb shelters had room for two in the second trap; and each person could have sustained a mild electric shock to complete the circuit in the third trap.
I explained it to Mallick, telling him that we were supposed to work together so we all survived. Mallick's only comment was "Whoops." Yeah.
Big ******** whoops!
We decided that each of us would sacrifice 5 pints of blood, and possibly survive. As we readied ourselves for the task at hand, we discussed our lives and why we thought we were being punished, and he admitted to having burned down a building that still had eight people living in it. And then it clicked.
The fire. It's what connects us. The fire inspector who worked the bogus accident report. The city planner who pushed through the residential permits. The journalist that buried the investigative story. The rich kid junkie who was the patsy. And the real-estate developer who set it all in motion. We killed eight people. And stole the property, and nobody cared.
Mallick scolded me and called me a monster. You know what, Mallick?
So are you.
With no other options, we each stuck one arm in the machine and began sawing our arms in an attempt to fill the beaker with 10 pints of our blood. Finally, the beaker filled to the top, and we removed our arms from the machine. Both of our forearms were split in two.
We did it... We won...
Mallick passed out, and I crawled into a nearby room, using a meat hook as a way to drag myself along. A police chief found me and called for medical assistance. Both Mallick and I survived, and I guarantee that we've learned our lesson. The scars on my arm serve as a constant reminder of that.
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