(Author's note: Yes. This is where another writer comes along. I will post her name each time the paragraph(s) are hers. Sorry for any confusion.)

PUPPETS'N'GUNS

Chapter 2

JigsawtheWitch

Sarah clenched her hands, growing steadily more pissed. She had woken up less than fifteen minutes ago from a drug induced coma... only to find she was locked in some ramshackle house with a group of people who probably couldn't flip on a light without specific instructions. '1. Place index finger on underside of switch. (Note: switch is considered the piece that is pointing from the wall). 2. Press upward until light turns on. 3. Remove finger from switch.' She smirked as the thought flashed through her mind. Her gaze rested on the dim-witted Neanderthals milling back-and-forth in distress. Yup. If these were the lot she was going to be stuck with for the next gods-know-how-many-hours... she was royally screwed.
She turned around and ran her hands across the wall as if she were blind and searching for any possible obstructions or clear paths. Come ON! she thought in frustration. Jigsaw always left a note or something to let his victims know what kind of game he felt like playing.
"Argh!" she hissed, pulling back and punching a section of the wall forcefully. It cracked and began to crumble. She'd found the clue.
Reaching in rather tentatively, she grabbed the recording device and quickly jerked her hand out. The group of knuckle-draggers clustered around her, anxious to hear what it had to say. Narrowing her ice-blue eyes, she pressed "Play".

Myself

He knew very well how to get in. It wasn't as if the game was on /him/. That was one thing he really enjoyed- the fact that he was on the bad-guy side.

There was a panel off to the side next to the trunk of a chimney which, being only 9 inches in diameter, was clearly meantt for him...or any other small children who'd randomly want to break into a death-house by a subway. OO This led inside of the walls, and left Billy, just a tad miffed, crawling through dust to reach a door, leading him out into a self-working elevator shaft. This wasn't going to do much to his image, he thought to himself. Being dirty? Come on. Who's gonna go for a 3 foot 11 inch puppet covered in dirt? Ohhhhh wow- how scary. They'd be "terrified for their lives", jumping into each other's arms and gasping like a group of sorority girls! No. His brow, already quite low and protruding, sank in to further cover his painted ping-pong-ball eyes. He grunted and ranted under his breath as his crawl towards that shaft progressed on, only until he stopped momentarily at sudden mumbles and sounds of distress that surfaced through the wall to his left. Surely, there was some bitch or bastard in there trying to avoid being killed or whatever...anyway. The shaft was just ahead- black and metally, it shined under a faint light at the roof of the house in order for him to see it. As though he were old, he struggled onto the seat with legs and arms that eased themselves through alledged pain. Making sure his legs weren't dangling around the ends, but rather, secure in his lap, he grabbed the chain in the middle of his seat and pulled, sending the platform several inches up. Sure, there were some clanking noises as the chains grinded from within the turner, but he figured mysterious noises would be a great addition to the atmosphere. Yep. Up to the second floor he went.

JigsawtheWitch

The tape crackled for a moment, and then the voice filled the silence that had fallen. "Hello, Sarah."
Her eyes widened, actually surprised that he had mentioned her first. "I'm making the assumption that it was you that found this message." Ah. "Congratulations. This is probably the only time that your physical strength will help you overcome an obstacle in this house. Now, I'm sure all of you are pondering your predicament. Why are you here? That can be answered as you make your way through the house. As of yet, none of you are contaminated with anything…well, I have not contaminated you with anything. The only contamination that abides within all of you is something with which you've afflicted yourself..." Sarah stiffened and stopped the tape from continuing. She held up a finger, commanding silence, when the others threatened to ruin her concentration. They all froze when they too heard the clanking and rattling of chains. She shrugged when she realized that the sound was parallel to the room. Unless there was some hidden door, whoever it was wasn't going to be bothering them… yet. "…Which is not to say that later you will not be infected by some outside contamination. There will be other tapes explaining what ordeal you must survive before you have earned the privilege to return to whatever semblance of life you choose. Remember the rules... that is what will save you. Let the game begin."
'Great,' thought Sarah as the tape player snapped itself into silence. 'This can't be good.' The cryptic message had said a lot, but revealed nothing. How were they supposed to get out of this gods-forsaken room?

That question was answered quickly enough as one of the men grabbed something from the wall and tried forcing the door open. Sarah sighed. "Oh no, please don't." she said in a sarcastic and bored voice, already anticipating that the life of this idiot was going to end before he expected. Sure enough, as soon as he had managed to pry the door open fractionally, something clicked. The next moment, the man had grown feathers out of his chest. He had triggered a trap that released the arrow at whoever decided not to abide by Jigsaw's rules. Gears whirred and clanked loudly as the door slowly opened to admit them through. A blood price? That was interesting. It didn't seem like Jigsaw to ask for one to die so others could survive. Oh well. New game, new rules. She stepped over the body and walked into the hallway. Let the game begin indeed.

Myself

He reached the top with yet another grunt of frustration. Okay. Just to be honest and get this out of the way, Billy was lazy and out of shape. Things like running, riding his trike, and playing around the mannequin factory could slightly keep him up and at it, and he could admit were fun, but all of this upper-body strength needed at the moment was little found.

Without any hesitation he thrusted open the cabinet doors at the top floor and looked around the room. As expected it was dim, and had only an antique rug, a dresser, a small sheetless bed, and crappy looking wallpaper. Wow. How fun. He let a red mary-jane tap onto the floor and then slid out in full weight (4 pounds) from the shaft. He closed it quiet enough not to make any noise to target his position in the house, but loud enough so that he could still be apathetic about it. There really wasn't much use standing around or acting like he was afraid of what was ahead, so he opened the door and headed down a hallway with a horrible mustard colored paint on the walls. Man. This whole house was /disgustingly/ designed and decorated. What a dissapointment.

JigsawtheWitch

Sarah let herself fall against the wall tiredly and ran a hand through her hair, slightly unsettled. She had to admit that she admired Jigsaw. The concentration, the cunning, the patience… it was incredible. Her admiration did not stop her from referring to him in quite a few varied, colorful terms. It seemed Jigsaw had been in a riddling mood when he devised these traps… that much was evident with the third death. The girl had been unable to solve the riddle and had paid for that with her life.

Sarah had been driven back into the room hurriedly when she had heard something creaking. The cross-bolt had swiveled to follow her and was slowly winding itself up. "Damn," she said, impressed. Not willing to find out what would happen if she waited to see what the cross-bolt would do next, she stepped back into the room. The man who had followed her out, Andrew, had decided to wait. It was his corpse that was sprawled in the hallway, an arrow through his neck. In some small way, she envied Andrew. One of the blundering idiots – she hadn't seen which one… lucky them – had flipped the one light switch in the room. The lights instantly died. A voice, somewhere from the ceiling, said, "'Night, 'night," and they all quickly succumbed to the sleeping agent that filtered into the room. Her last conscious thought was how lucky Andrew was – at least he didn't have to deal with them anymore.
When they awoke for the second time, one of the girls was screaming. She was practically hidden beneath the contraption on her body, holding her against the wall. One piece was wrapped around her chest, one around her neck, one covering her wrists, and one slowly revolving around her, as if ready to strike, but unsure of where. Sarah found the tape and slid it into the player.
"Hello Skye. For most of your life, you've found the easy way out of everything. With such influential people in your life, it was easy to sit back and let them feed you choices, so you needn't ever search inside yourself to make a decision. Now, I believe, the tables have turned. You must look inside yourself to make a decision. Each piece strapped to you represents a truth you probably don't even recognize; truth of the heart, truth of the mind, truth of the hand, and truth of the unknown. Now, tell me – which is the actual truth? Decide carefully; after the second attempt, the device shuts down, regardless. Live or die," he gave a small chuckle.

"The choice is yours."
Skye started taking gasping, panicking breaths. Sarah, quickly annoyed, grabbed Skye's head, forcing the girl to look her in the eye.
"Listen," snapped Sarah. "You're stuck here. You're not getting out unless you play the game. So, calm down, because panicking is only going to get you killed more quickly." The girl's breathing quieted slightly. Sarah surveyed the contraption. The only way it would release Skye was if a panel of buttons were pressed correctly. One button had a picture of a hand, one had chest, one had a neck, and one had a question mark.
"Press… press the hand button," said Skye in a quivering voice, after a long moment.
"Are you sure?"
"No," she gave a bitter smile. "But, the truth of the hand is the only certainty a person has… or, so I've been lead to believe. Press it." Sarah pressed down the button. It glowed for a moment before a snapping sound echoed in the room, along with Skye's agonized scream. The device had severed her hands. "Hit the unknown one!" said Skye, sobbing in pain.
"Are you willing to risk it?" demanded Sarah in a quiet voice.
"The less we know, the more likely it's true. Yes!" Sarah pressed the button. This time, when the chosen button glowed, it severed Skye's legs. The girl did not have long to lament them, because the contraption suddenly made a whirring noise. This time, it collapsed on her, crushing her chest and severing her neck from her shoulders. Sarah shook her head. She pressed all the buttons at one time. They all glowed, then released Skye's corpse, which crumpled to the floor in the pool of slowly spreading blood. Sarah looked up to see three incredulous pairs of eyes on her.
"Are you serious?" she snapped. She hadn't thought they could've reached this level of stupidity. "All the truths were the correct answer. One of them can't be true without the other."
"So why didn't you tell her!" said one girl, hysterically. "She could still be alive!" Sarah gave her a hard look.
"This challenge was for her and no one else. If you didn't notice, I had asked if she was certain." Without waiting for any response, she turned and strode out. Her main concern was leaving the room. Skye couldn't have just… fallen into that device. Someone had to have placed her in there. And she wasn't willing to find out which one it was. Noticing some stairs, she climbed up them. "Let's rock," she muttered, mentally steeling herself and knowing it was most likely futile. It was past time to find her own challenge and get the hell out of here.

Myself

He continued strolling down the hallway- not entirely sure where the hell he was going, but who cared? It was becomming amusing finding more and more reasons to hate this house. Lets see...horrible wallpaper, the floor had no carpetting, the colors clashed- I mean seriously. Olive and mustard? It was a nightmare. Hmm...maybe all of this eying the interior designing wasn't such a good idea. If he'd-a mentioned it to someone he knew they'd probably think he was gay.

Anyway. It was about time to sneak around downstairs and find out what kind of traps were around. He turned the corner rather briskly towards the stairs and was overwhelmed at the sight of a girl right at the top, looking a tad discomforted to whomever was behind her. OO He turned back around so quickly his hair whished in a blur of black out of view. "Shit". He thought. It wasn't time to be caught yet. What the hell were they doing coming up here so fast! They must have had 5 extra IQ points after all. Whatever. Who cared. He ran without hardly any sound in the weightlessness of his steps towards a room in the back, and then closed the door. Sure. It was practically the only closed door upstairs but maybe they'd overlook it for a while?

The room was a peice of crap. He knew that. He examined it rather anxiously in attempts to find a hiding place, and resulted, sadly enough, to the closet, already open, with...er...clothes inside. oO How strange. Well, still. He approached it at first with hesitance, but then lent a weak hand out to push them down to the other end and stand in the back. A toy fell from the shadows and landed next to his feet. Hey! So he wasn't the only creepy inanimate object around! His cheeks glowed into another smile as he closed the closet door.

JigsawtheWitch

Sarah climbed the stairs, partially oblivious to her surroundings as she lost herself deep in thought. Her musings were cut rather short as she reached the top of the stairs and turned the corner. "Oh, fuck me up the ass," she cursed loudly as she surveyed the hallway. Frustrated, she turned to the wall and pounded her head against the plaster for a moment. She lifted her head from the wall and glared at the row of doors.
"Of course," she said, growing ticked once more. "I've blundered around some of this gods-forsaken house and found nothing but fucking doors," she ranted. "I climb the stairs and turn a corner and – surprise! – what do I find! More of these damn doors!" She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Well, what should I have fucking expected!"
She clenched her fists and seriously considered punching the wall until she left a hole. Growling angrily, she decided against it. Though it would vent her frustration rather adequately, it would also waste time and energy she would probably need. She fingered the hidden sheath attached to her jeans, wishing that Jigsaw had at least left her dagger. "Ah, well," she said aloud… though she was speaking to herself. O.o Leaning against the wall, she continued to think aloud."In this game, there is committing suicide and there is… committing suicide." she amended thoughtfully, albeit lamely. "The one version is by giving up and losing… and that is at least forgivable to a degree. Then, there is committing suicide by refusing to play the game." She paused for a moment, and then bared her teeth in a feral smile. She pushed herself from the wall and studied the rooms that lined the hallway. All of them were open to some degree… except the one at the very end of the hall.
She cursed again under her breath. Did that mean that the last door was a certain death sentence? Or did it mean it was the test? "Argh!" she growled, caught between one choice and the other. Her breath hissed furiously between her teeth as she hesitantly made up her mind.
"And, Jigsaw," she muttered as she strode toward the door. "I sincerely hope you've set up something that tests us both… because, what would make you think that I'm not willing to play the game?"

Myself

The door to his room opened. Now you're probably asking "how the hell would he know that it was /his/ door in specifics? Well. It was just that feeling. He knew when something happened rather close to him! Man. This was fantastical. Of all the rooms "oh I'm a bitch- I think I'll choose this one!" Whore. God...He slid slowly and quietly down the wall and sat in the darkness, feeling the toy that had fallen at his feet push slightly into his side. Well. He figured he could just pop out at any moment and scare the crap out of her...yes...that was always an option. Hahahah...and then of course the others would follow and enter the room and be like "HOLY SHIT A PUPPET'S HOLDING HER HOSTAGE!" OO Mwahahahahahahaa...yes...

He stood up again and pressed the said of his face closely against the closet door, hoping he wouldn't accidentally tap his nose or his cheek into it and create a sound for her to follow. Hmm...okay. Okay she was entering the room...(duh)...uhm...okay she took a few steps. OH WAIT! OHHH! OHHHHH! She stopped.

JigsawtheWitch

Sarah stepped into the room cautiously, keeping an eye out for possible traps. She sighed. With her luck, she could walk into the room and not set anything off… but sneaking in would set off every trap in the whole damn house. She rolled her eyes, because she knew that that was entirely possible. She took a few more hesitant steps but stopped suddenly. She could have sworn that she had heard something move behind her. She stood without moving for a moment. That moment seemed to last for an eternity. Hearing nothing except for her own shallow breathing, she reluctantly allowed herself to relax. There didn't seem to be anything in the room… so, maybe it was one of those rooms that lulled people into a false sense of security. Joy. That meant, she could take a step in any freaking direction and have something severed. Painfully. More fun. Her glance swept about the room, ensuring she hadn't overlooked anything potentially useful. Hey! A closet! She started walking toward it, but hesitated. A thought flashed across her conscience. 'Oohh… more possible death traps…' What fun. "Pick me first," she muttered, stepping hesitantly closer to the closet.

Myself

He was no idiot. He HEARD those footsteps in full squeaking floor-board cracking horrible sound! They were coming towards him and he was scared out of his mind. And you might think it was because someone would find him, but no, he was scared that someone would find him before he found /them/ and he could scare them. This was /not/ how he wanted to be seen! With much haste, he slipped behind the clothes to his right and slid into his knees to curl up into a ball behind some boxes. It was working perfectly, perfectly indeed! No one would ever suspect a shadow- if she could even /see/ the shadow that is. Yeah...there was no way Billy the puppet-mofo was gettin' caught!

JigsawtheWitch

She tentatively opened the door, mentally readying herself for when she ended up springing a trap. The door pushed open with little resistance, but with an extremely loud and teeth-grating whine. And that was all.
She sighed, releasing the breath she hadn't realized she'd held." Jigsaw, you are one sick son of a bitch," she muttered admiringly. She crouched down, looking closely at whatever was in the closet. There were boxes... there were -surprise!- clothes... but, nothing else. "I'm so glad I haven't just wasted 15 minutes of my confinement trying to find something that doesn't exist." she snapped. She stopped, then shook her head.
Hmm... maybe she ought to try a little more social contact." Talking to myself probably doesn't scream, "I'm sane!" She shrugged, then stood. Oh well... there were another few hundred fucking doors waiting.

Myself

He didn't have to hold his breath. Why? Because he didn't breathe! You knew that.

Well. Okay. He /could/ breath. Sometimes he did it low and quickly to get attention from Jigsaw or Mommy, other times he just wanted to sound pissed off and grunting came in handy. Lungs weren't even used to begin with. He simply sucked in air and let it fly right out of a giant gap in the plastic-y mold of his chest and shoulders. So in reality, it wasn't really necessary.

Moving on to more relevant matters, he felt impelled to creep out from the pile of crap in which he'd hidden and slide the door open once he thought he heard her footsteps trail off.