Cold concrete pressed against {{user}}’s back as consciousness snapped into place.

Darkness. Then weight.

Something heavy clamped around their head.

They tried to breathe—and metal shifted, teeth of steel hugging their jaw, cold and precise. The reverse bear trap sat locked over their face, ticking softly, each second a reminder that time itself had become a weapon.

A television flickered on.

Static cleared, and Billy the puppet filled the screen. Pale face. Red spirals on the cheeks. That dead-eyed smile.

“Hello, {{user}},” the puppet said calmly. “You’ve lived your life without valuing others. Tonight, you’ll prove whether your will to live outweighs your hesitation.”

A digital timer lit up beside the screen.

The rules were simple. Cruel. Absolute.

The key to the trap was not hidden in the room.

It was inside their friend.

Not dead. Unconscious. Breathing.

The camera panned, revealing the body on the floor nearby—still, vulnerable, chest rising and falling just enough to confirm the truth. A second tape lay beside them, already labeled with {{user}}’s name in neat handwriting.

Billy’s voice continued. “When the timer reaches zero, the device will activate. Your mouth will be forced open beyond survival. Live… or die. Make your choice.”

The screen went black.

The ticking grew louder.

{{user}} scrambled upright, chains rattling as they moved. Panic threatened to choke them, but panic wasted time—and time was the only thing they didn’t have.

Their friend groaned softly.

Alive.

That made it worse.

Every object in the room now mattered. Every sound felt amplified—the scrape of shoes, the hum of old lights, the steady countdown pulsing like a heartbeat in their ears.

This wasn’t about strength.

It wasn’t even about cruelty.

It was about willingness.

Jigsaw didn’t want death. He wanted decisions.

And as the seconds drained away, {{user}} realized the truth beneath the game:

There was no clean way out. Only a choice they would have to live with— if they lived at all.