"Hello Bill. I want to play a game."
The world had stopped spinning enough for the young man to make out the shape of a television in the corner. The man, now known as Bill, gaped at it dumbly, still in utter shock from whatever it was that knocked him out. The puppet in the video grinned at him.
"How do you like your collar? It's fitted with razor sharp blades on the sides, ready to slice."
A wary hand reached up to feel them. Sure enough, there were blades. Billy let out a low, guttural moan and stumbled towards the television.
"Don't worry, the collar can't hurt you right now. In fact, if you were to leave right now, it would be very simple to pry off, and you would be free."
Bill's eyes widened, and he whirled around. To the left of him, a grungy door marked "In Here". To the right, another door marked "Exit". He sighed with relief, and started for the right door.
"Hold on. There's something you should know first."
Halfway to the door, and freedom. He couldn't care LESS what he had to hear right now.
"You may be wondering why I didn't put you in a more savage trap. Why I decided to go easy on you." He could almost hear the puppet smiling through the mask. "That is because your entire life has been a trap. Just one big, long trap." Bill's head had cleared slightly, and he began to wonder how this puppet knew him. The puppet's voice turned melancholy. "Trapped in a body that you didn't want, trapped in a life that wasn't yours, and trapped by a society that shuns people who are different." It turned towards him slowly. "And you ARE different… aren't you Bethany?"
Bill shrieked loudly and backed away from the television set, falling over himself on the way back. How… how the FUCK did some little wooden son of a bitch know that?! "Who are you?!", he screamed at the top of his lungs, pounding on the television set. Just as his anger subsided, he thought he heard screams and cries for help coming from the room to the left.
The puppet was still talking. "You accept and love yourself for who you are, but the same cannot be said for your loving parents. It hurt when you came out to them, and they kicked you out of their lives like garbage, didn't it?" It laughed sinisterly. "It tore you in half."
"And now, it's their turn."
Bill inched closer to the door on the left. The screams were louder now. "Behind this door lies one of my more gruesome traps--- the Side-splitter, I like to call it." A small little mannequin flickered onto the screen. "Four heavy chains are connected to the wrists and ankles of your beloved parents. If the machine is activated, then the machine will rip them to shreds. Observe." Bill gaped as the mannequin's arms and legs were torn completely off, hanging like slaughtered cattle on meathooks. "You have a chance to save them. Once you enter that door, the timer will start. You'll have seven minutes to free them. The key is in your pocket, but it isn't that simple." It laughed again. "Nothing ever is. If you free your parents, you'll have to give up the one thing you fought so hard to win: your LIFE. "
Bill turned back to the television. What? What did he say? "If you insert the key into the one lock to save your parents, then your collar will go off. Attempting to get free of your collar now will cause instant detonation. If you elect to leave them here and get your own freedom, they shall die." The screen began to flicker and fade. "Live, or die for them. Make your choice."
And the screen went black.
The screams were getting frenzied on the inside of the door, and Bill's mind reeled. They… they were the ones who had called him a nothing, hellbound, bastardizing waste of a human!! They had caused him so much pain!! And yet…. They were his PARENTS.
And he still loved them.
He grasped the handle to the left door firmly, and opened it. A loud click rang out through the room, and the sounds of gears whirring warned him to hurry. He could see his parents now; They were right as the puppet had said they were, chained in the middle of the room, writhing in pain as the chains got tighter and tighter. His father yelled out for him, calling him by his female name. "Beth…Bethany, help us! PLEASE!" Bill almost stopped what he was doing. After ten years, you'd THINK the bastard would've---but that could wait. Bill walked up to them, tears trickling down his face.
"Mom, Dad, I'm a man." He could hear the tendons snapping, the bones cracking as time wore on… Their faces contorted, and the mother cried out in anguish. Bill wiped his tears away as fast as he could. "But---But I'll always love you." He closed his eyes tightly, and plunged the key into the lock and turned. Just as the puppet predicted, the blades swung into his collar, slicing neatly through his neck. Bill gurgled and dropped to the floor, his severed head rolling a distance away, eyes fixed in an eternal gaze of love towards his parents.
They both dropped to the floor, free from their devices, and clung to the now lifeless body of their son for dear life. Amidst their tears and cries of anguish, they heard someone clapping in the distance… That drove the father over the edge. "YOU KILLED HER!!" He threw whatever reached his hands at nothing at all, too horror-struck to realize what had just happened.
"Tssk, Tssk. You haven't learned a thing, have you?" The pair looked up quickly, husband futily protecting the wife. The puppet stood over them, dead eyes staring at them apathetically. It shook its head. "He should've let my little trap kill you, but Billy…. Ah, Billy had more compassion towards his fellow man then I do. I WAS going to just let you go and mourn your son in peace." It shook his head again. "But you proved utterly incapable of any respect for the dead. Pathetic life forms… " The walls all around began to close on them, and their renewed cries for help went unheard and unpitied by the puppet, who gently picked up Bill's dead body and walked him out of the room, just as the walls came to a crushing halt, and blood trickled on the floor below…
"Game over."
Jigsaw carefully patched the severed head back onto the body, and readied the young man for a proper funeral. It wasn't often that he'd take such a personal interest in one of his victims, but this one had been special; Not a victim of his traps, but of society and of the family he'd been born into. Jigsaw felt especially bad for young Billy. He had made the right choice the entire time… He'd won the game without hesitation, and without malice towards those that wronged him. Admirable.
The world needed more of him.