Chapter Three

Dead Man's Kill

"You might want to look at this too," the cop pointed his flashlight at the small symbol carved into the kid's skin.

It was shaped like a puzzle piece, the same symbol Jigsaw carved into his victims after they failed their task. Something wasn't right though. Jigsaw had been dead for nearly twenty four hours now, yet this boy had died only a few hours ago, no more than three, and had likely been placed in the room shortly before that.

Staring at the pale corpse, one of the officers shook his head, trying to find some kind of exclamation. Jigsaw was dead, yet another one of his brutal games had gone on.

"Get this body examined," he ordered. "And make sure none of this gets out in the public until I get a full proven report of what happened. Call Kerry. I want her to look at this."

Far away from the sounds of the city was a little, brick residence was buried in the suburbs. Except for the sounds of crickets and the occasional barking dog, the area was silent, that was until the phone began screaming around midnight, soon after Kerry had finally been able to get some sleep. The blaring sound was not pleasing to the exhausted ear, leading the detective to brutally pick it up and snap.

"Whoever the fuck this is better have a goddamn good reason for calling!"

"Easy, Kerry," Rigg, a fellow cop, said though the other end. "If you're ticked off now, this is really going to blow your mind."

Could it really? Did she really need one more thing in her life to worry about now? Sighing she preparing herself for whatever news was about to be delivered.

"They found another body," Rigg continued. "And here's the twist if you haven't figure it out already, the boy was put in the room today."

Time stopped at the mention of those words. Kerry immediately sat up in the bed, clutching the phone tightly in a grip of rage. There was no way in hell that there could be another body. She'd seen it herself, the images of John Kramer being carried away from the crime scene, far from alive. The case was done, dead, closed, finished, so how in the fuck was there another body? Her trail of thought was broken by the cop.

"Is that a goddamn good reason for you?" he asked sarcastically. "They want you down at the station right now to check out this body. No excuses."

"I don't recall me being the one with the excuses, Rigg," Kerry bit back. "Just tell the bastards I'll be down there in an hour and no less."

Not in the mood for another smart ass remark, she slung the phone down on the hook and was right back out of bed again. Jesus Christ! Was she the only one who knew a damn thing about Jigsaw? Had there happened to be another person in the whole fucking city who wasn't finally able to get more than a few hours sleep? Kerry gave mercy to the poor son-of-a-bitch she would have to deal with when she got to the station, because hell was about to rain down on him hard.

After getting the proper attire, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, Kerry left her house. Her new neighbor, who lived across the street seemed also in a hurry to get into hers. Kerry had to admit her face seemed familiar but couldn't hit the nail with the hammer. Honestly not caring, she got into her car and headed back to the city. If they wanted her in correct uniform, they would've called her in the morning. Going well over the speed limit, she drove into the city streets heading for the station downtown. The building was pretty luxurious compared to the lazy asses that worked there. Rampaging through the door, she headed for the backroom, shoving past anyone in her way.

On a slate in the middle of the room was the body of a kid. His face was pale and had stilled in a horrified state. Pulling off the sheet covering him, she got a look at his arms or what was left of them. Each one had an imperfect rip below the wrist, and just above was his crimson hands which had found their way into his arms. Another detective approached her, handing her the only evidence they had: two bloody keys. The puzzle wasn't hard to put together, even if the other idiots had yet been able to figure it out.

"So," one of the men asked. "What do you got?"

"Well, boys," Kerry looked up with a wide, mocking smile. "It looks to me like we got us another Jigsaw."

Lawrence had relaxed in his bed, attempting to get a night's sleep. It wasn't normal for his apartment to be cold, especially during the middle of the summer, but for some reason he was freezing. He got out of bed to check if the air conditioner was on which turned out to be a negative. Maybe it was his imagination or either he was getting a cold, something like that? Convinced his mind had wondered, he began walking back to his room to get back to sleeping. He turned into the doorway, but didn't quite make it into the room before he stopped dead in his tracks. There standing in the middle of the room, was Adam Faulkner.

… Or at least what had become of him. His skin was completely colorless and rotted in most parts. The corpse was wearing the same white shirt and shorts he'd had on the last time Gordon has seen him. His eyes were bloodshot red and were staring dead at Lawrence, full of anger and disgust.

"Are you going to just give up?" he scolded. "Let that bitch get away with everything?"

"Jigsaw's dead, Adam," Lawrence replied, fearing him. "And so are you."

"That's where you're wrong, Lawrence," Adam said shaking his head. "He's dead… but she isn't."

The crippled man gulped, staring at Adam. He'd promised him he'd go back for him with help, and if only he hadn't passed out, he would've known where to go back to. Successfully making it out of the house, he had gotten to the edge of the road before fading. The next thing he knew he was waking up in the same hospital he used to work in. The only thing he had learned was that a truck had driven by and noticed him there, not hesitating to get him help.

When Lawrence finally emerged from his trail of thought, Adam, or the thing that looked like him, had eerily vanished from the room. He recalled what he had told him… but she isn't. What did that mean? Not in the mood to sleep anymore, Gordon got all of his resources, his television and computer, turned on and began looking for any kind of information regarding to what Adam had told him.

Scratching her head, Amanda stared down at her newest sketch, obviously pleased. A small smile crept onto her face, pulling some folders in front of her. Flipping through the files, she looked over a series of faces, each one with their own problem. Leaning back in her chair, she tried to decide if she wanted to play one more practice or go on with the big game. She knew she was ready, but if she wanted to be as great as John, she would have to warm up a little.

"One more game should be enough," she said grabbing a different folder and selecting a particular picture. "I have more faith in you, my dear."

Amanda grabbed for a fearful looking mask that sat on the corner of her desk. Remembering the location of her person of choice perfectly, she left her house and headed for her driveway. As she got in her car, she noticed the woman across the street angrily getting in to hers also and quickly speed out of the driveway. Amanda was sure she remembered her from somewhere but couldn't figure it out. No matter, she had work to do. A few miles away lived the latest player of the game.