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Peter Strahm: Tell me how to open it! How do I open it?!
[Hoffman points to the tape player on the floor. Strahm picks it up and plays it]
Tape: However, if you choose not to, you will never be heard from again. Your body will never be found. You will simply vanish.
[The Box begins to rotate into the floor]
Tape: I ask you, Special Agent Strahm: Have you learned enough to trust me?
[Flashback]
Tape: [Narrating] Will you heed my warning? For if you do not...
Peter Strahm: **** you.
Tape: [Narrating] ...this room will forever be your tomb.
[Present]
Tape: And my legacy will become yours.
[Flashback]
John: If you're good at anticipating the human mind...
Jill Tuck: I think I'm being followed.
Dan Erickson: Who would be following you?
Peter Strahm: I want to talk to Jill Tuck one last time.
Hoffman: He suspected someone on the inside.
[Strahm and Erickson meet at FBI]
John: ...it leaves nothing to chance.
Peter Strahm: We were all supposed to die. You were supposed to be the "hero."
[Present]
Tape: Make your choice.
[Strahm realizes the room itself is the trap as the room starts to close]
Dan Erickson: Cowan... Yeah, this is Erickson. I want you to put out an A.P.B. Suspect's name is Peter Strahm. Yeah, that's right. Special Agent Peter Strahm.
[Strahm tries to shoot the Box open, to no avail]
Peter Strahm: Tell me how to stop it, you son of a bitch!
[shoots three more times]
Peter Strahm [Last Words]: I know who you are! I know!
[Strahm climbs the converging walls and tries to escape through the ceiling vent while the Box is lowered safely into the floor. Strahm's left arm is caught between the walls, Strahm screaming in terror and breaking violently and showering his blood onto the coffin. Hoffman looks away as the walls come to a close.]
[Hoffman points to the tape player on the floor. Strahm picks it up and plays it]
Tape: However, if you choose not to, you will never be heard from again. Your body will never be found. You will simply vanish.
[The Box begins to rotate into the floor]
Tape: I ask you, Special Agent Strahm: Have you learned enough to trust me?
[Flashback]
Tape: [Narrating] Will you heed my warning? For if you do not...
Peter Strahm: **** you.
Tape: [Narrating] ...this room will forever be your tomb.
[Present]
Tape: And my legacy will become yours.
[Flashback]
John: If you're good at anticipating the human mind...
Jill Tuck: I think I'm being followed.
Dan Erickson: Who would be following you?
Peter Strahm: I want to talk to Jill Tuck one last time.
Hoffman: He suspected someone on the inside.
[Strahm and Erickson meet at FBI]
John: ...it leaves nothing to chance.
Peter Strahm: We were all supposed to die. You were supposed to be the "hero."
[Present]
Tape: Make your choice.
[Strahm realizes the room itself is the trap as the room starts to close]
Dan Erickson: Cowan... Yeah, this is Erickson. I want you to put out an A.P.B. Suspect's name is Peter Strahm. Yeah, that's right. Special Agent Peter Strahm.
[Strahm tries to shoot the Box open, to no avail]
Peter Strahm: Tell me how to stop it, you son of a bitch!
[shoots three more times]
Peter Strahm [Last Words]: I know who you are! I know!
[Strahm climbs the converging walls and tries to escape through the ceiling vent while the Box is lowered safely into the floor. Strahm's left arm is caught between the walls, Strahm screaming in terror and breaking violently and showering his blood onto the coffin. Hoffman looks away as the walls come to a close.]
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Peter Strahm: The last thing she said was "Detective Hoffman." Why would she say that? Why did she say your name?
Hoffman: I don't know.
Peter Strahm: No? How did you walk out of that building?
Hoffman: How did you?
Peter Strahm: On a gurney, with a ****ing hole in my throat! [Coughs] And you. Couple of scratches and a story about how your arm straps broke. Jigsaw doesn't make mistakes.
Hoffman: Is this you theorizing again? Because Jigsaw's dead.
Peter Strahm: I'm not talking about him. I'm talking about you and your whole crooked department!
Hoffman: My department's gone. They're all dead. There's no one left.
Peter Strahm: Besides you!
Hoffman: I've been chasing Jigsaw from the beginning. And I got him. So unless you've got something else to say, back the **** off. Read the papers. I saved that little girl.
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Tape: Hello, Agent Strahm. If you're hearing this, then you've finally found what you've been looking for. But is the discovery of my body... enough? Or will your insatiable hunger to uncover the truth push you deeper into the abyss? Heed my warning: Do not proceed for this room can be your sanctuary or it can be your grave. The choice is yours.
Peter Strahm: **** you.
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[Flashback]
Hoffman: What's going on with Amanda? Didn't you tell me the only way to truly offering enlightenment is by not attaching emotionally?
John: But you can have something Amanda doesn't: anonymity. That's the greatest protection. That's what I've given you. I need you to set up a game. It may not be entirely clear, to you right now. But I assure you that the people being tested are a part of something much larger. They're connected. So in the end, all the pieces will fit together and it'll be clear.
Hoffman: Amanda will fail you.
John: We'll see. [hands him a folder]
Hoffman: What's this?
John: It's time to play a game.
Brit: The tub wasn't meant for one person. We were supposed to hold one cable each, and suffer a small shock. It was meant for five people. They all were, every game. We only needed one key in the first room. They all worked and any one of them would've opened every collar. In the second room, the three tubes were large enough for more than one person. We were supposed to work together so we all survived. That's the game!
Mallick: "Your lifelong instincts will tell you to do one thing but I implore you to do the opposite." Oh, god. Whoops.
Brit: Yeah... [Sees nine seconds left on the timer] Big ****ing whoops!
Hoffman: What's going on with Amanda? Didn't you tell me the only way to truly offering enlightenment is by not attaching emotionally?
John: But you can have something Amanda doesn't: anonymity. That's the greatest protection. That's what I've given you. I need you to set up a game. It may not be entirely clear, to you right now. But I assure you that the people being tested are a part of something much larger. They're connected. So in the end, all the pieces will fit together and it'll be clear.
Hoffman: Amanda will fail you.
John: We'll see. [hands him a folder]
Hoffman: What's this?
John: It's time to play a game.
Brit: The tub wasn't meant for one person. We were supposed to hold one cable each, and suffer a small shock. It was meant for five people. They all were, every game. We only needed one key in the first room. They all worked and any one of them would've opened every collar. In the second room, the three tubes were large enough for more than one person. We were supposed to work together so we all survived. That's the game!
Mallick: "Your lifelong instincts will tell you to do one thing but I implore you to do the opposite." Oh, god. Whoops.
Brit: Yeah... [Sees nine seconds left on the timer] Big ****ing whoops!
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[Flashback]
Hoffman: You're assuming this is going to play out the way you want it to.
John: I assume nothing. I anticipate the possibilities and... I let the game play out.
Hoffman: Then why do you need Amanda in the game?
John: To ensure that the rules are followed. She won't make decisions for anyone. She will just... offer choices.
Hoffman: That leaves a lot to chance.
John: If you're good at anticipating the human mind... it leaves nothing to chance.
Hoffman: You're assuming this is going to play out the way you want it to.
John: I assume nothing. I anticipate the possibilities and... I let the game play out.
Hoffman: Then why do you need Amanda in the game?
John: To ensure that the rules are followed. She won't make decisions for anyone. She will just... offer choices.
Hoffman: That leaves a lot to chance.
John: If you're good at anticipating the human mind... it leaves nothing to chance.
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[After Ashley is decapitated by the trap.]
Charles: [to Mallick.] Unless you wanna be shredded when those bombs go off. I suggest we move on.
[Charles and Luba enter the next room, as Brit collects the keys.]
Mallick: What are you doing?
Brit: Being smart.
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[After receiving the instructions from the tape and the timer starts.]
Mallick: Nobody has to die?
Luba: No, no, no, it says: Don't listen to your instincts., That means don't go for the keys.
Mallick: You ****ing nuts?!
Ashley: How are we supposed to live if we don't go for the keys?
Luba: Maybe, It's testing our endurance.---
Charles: We gotta move there [pointing to where they go.], That timer's connected to those jars.
Brit: No, It didn't say anything about those jars. They could be nothing.---
Ashley: They're nail bombs. Homemade, probably C-4.
Mallick: How the **** do you know that?
Charles: She's a fire inspector. She's seen all kinds of demented shit.
Ashley: How do you know me?
[Charles doesn't respond.]
Mallick: Hey, man, she's asking you a question. How do you know her?
[Charles is still not responding.]
Mallick: How do you know her?! Answer me!
Brit: Look, let's just keep our cool. Okay?, we can figure this out.
Luba: We're all here for a reason. Okay, and we're all connected, as the message said. We just need to-- [Luba stops and turns to Brit.] What did you do?
Brit: You go first.
Luba: I-It said that we were all born with advantages. Right? That means we're all for money.
[None of them doesn't respond.]
Ashley: I'm not.
Charles: And neither am I.
Mallick: Hey, nice ****ing try, Nancy Drew.
Luba: Well, then, what does it mean?
Ashley: We all did something wrong with an advantage from birth. That doesn't have to mean money.
Mallick: What are you not telling us? Huh? You know about her, what do you know about the rest of us?
[Charles doesn't respond.]
Mallick: Would you ****ing talk to me?!
Charles: Relax!
Mallick: I am ****ing relaxed!
Charles: It's a game, tweaker! Get it? The less you know about me, the better. The reason why [Charles grabs Mallick's burnt arm and show it to him.] you ****ed up your charmed existence is pretty obvious to everyone, isn't it?
[Mallick lets go of his arm.]
Mallick: **** you! **** you!
Charles: You've been playing with matches again, have we?
Mallick: **** all of you and your ****ing plan!
[Mallick panics and runs through the keys.]
Luba: Not yet!
[Charles pulls Mallick's collar to stop him, causing the timer to start.]
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[Erickson finds Brit at the final game after she slams a hook onto a desk]
Dan Erickson: Drop it! I said drop it!
[Erickson walks around the desk and sees her bleeding on the floor]
Dan Erickson: Who did this to you? Who did this to you?
Brit: [Weakly] We won. We won. We worked together. We did it. We were connected...
[Brit passes out]
Dan Erickson: [On headset] I need immediate medical assistance. 1293 Sandburst Drive.
Dan Erickson: Drop it! I said drop it!
[Erickson walks around the desk and sees her bleeding on the floor]
Dan Erickson: Who did this to you? Who did this to you?
Brit: [Weakly] We won. We won. We worked together. We did it. We were connected...
[Brit passes out]
Dan Erickson: [On headset] I need immediate medical assistance. 1293 Sandburst Drive.
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[Luba wakes up with a collar on her neck, frightened and panicked.]
Luba: [panicked] What is this?---
Ashley: [to Luba] Hey, [Luba stops.] don't move.
Luba: What did you do to me?
Ashley: I didn't do anything.
Mallick: Jigsaw.
Luba: What?
Mallick: I knew this was gonna happen to me. This is what he does.
[Mallick tries to free himself.]
Brit: No, it's not Jigsaw. He's dead. Haven't you watched TV lately?
Luba: Yeah, well, whoever it is, [points to the video camera.] they're watching us.
Brit: [looks at the camera.] We have to make sure we follow the rules.
Ashley: Which are what?
[As Mallick desperately tries to free himself.]
Charles: [to Mallick.] I wouldn't do that if I were you. [Mallick stops and turns to Charles.] Unless you want your head to pop off like a dandelion.
Mallick: How do you know that?
Charles: Because I have eyes. [points to the timer.] One pull-pin starts the timer for all of us. You won't wanna do that unless you know how it works, now, would you?
Mallick: You're starting to freak me out, dude.
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[Mallick breaks a jar with a pole. Brit collects a key from it.]
Brit: ****. It's a blank. [Looks at the locks] I need a shape.
[Charles hits Mallick with a pole]
Charles: Get your hands off that! You're not going anywhere!
[Charles begins to beat Mallick with the pole.]
Luba: Stop it!
[Luba attack Charles, only to be thrown to the floor.]
Charles: Get a clue, you ****ing bitch! It's survival of the fittest!
[Charles begins breaking all the jars. Brit and Luba looks for the right keys.]
Brit: [Examining the keys] Blank.
Luba: [Examining the keys] Blank.
Brit: [Discovers a fitting key] I got it.
[Brit sees Luba get a key and goes into a shelter. Mallick tries to get a fitting key from the floor, but Charles steps on his hand.]
Charles: Better luck next time, rich boy.
[Luba hits Charles with a pole, knocking him to the floor.]
Luba: Survival of the fittest, my ass!
[Mallick takes the key. He and Luba enter the shelters. Charles regains consciousness and stands. 0:03 seconds left.]
Charles: Wait!
[The room explodes, killing Charles]
Brit: ****. It's a blank. [Looks at the locks] I need a shape.
[Charles hits Mallick with a pole]
Charles: Get your hands off that! You're not going anywhere!
[Charles begins to beat Mallick with the pole.]
Luba: Stop it!
[Luba attack Charles, only to be thrown to the floor.]
Charles: Get a clue, you ****ing bitch! It's survival of the fittest!
[Charles begins breaking all the jars. Brit and Luba looks for the right keys.]
Brit: [Examining the keys] Blank.
Luba: [Examining the keys] Blank.
Brit: [Discovers a fitting key] I got it.
[Brit sees Luba get a key and goes into a shelter. Mallick tries to get a fitting key from the floor, but Charles steps on his hand.]
Charles: Better luck next time, rich boy.
[Luba hits Charles with a pole, knocking him to the floor.]
Luba: Survival of the fittest, my ass!
[Mallick takes the key. He and Luba enter the shelters. Charles regains consciousness and stands. 0:03 seconds left.]
Charles: Wait!
[The room explodes, killing Charles]
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[Mallick enters the next room, and begins to close the door.]
Charles: Not yet!
[Mallick stops.]
Brit: Don't close the door. It'll set off the timer.
Mallick: Do you know that for sure?
Brit: Educated guess.
Luba: What we need to do is figure out who everyone is?
Brit: Okay, well, we know that the dead woman worked for the fire department.---
Charles: Not anymore! She got canned a month ago.
Mallick: How the **** do you...? How the **** do you know that? You're responsible for this? She had her ****ing head cut off! I'm closing the door!, I'm gonna close the ****ing door!
Brit: Just be quiet!, [Mallick stops.] Please? [turns to Luba.] What's your story?
Luba: I work for the Department of City Planning.
Brit: Married? Kids?
Luba: No, and no. Your turn.
Charles: Uh..., You're not gonna tell them about Daddy?
Luba: My dad is... Richard Gibbs.
Mallick: The owner of the Cougars?---
Charles: He's been trying to build a new stadium for years. Little did he know all he had to do is wait for his daughter to get a job in City Planning.
Mallick: [to Brit.] And you. Huh? What about you? What sort of shady shit have you been up to? Huh?
Brit: I'm a senior V.P. for a real estate development company.
Mallick: So you're boring too. Hmm?
[Charles laughs.]
Luba: The Marshvard Group. Yeah, you can't get a permit in this town without going through the Department of City Planning. Right?
Brit: No, you can't.
Luba: What about you?
Mallick: Uh..., No wife, No kids that I know of, No job.
Charles: Trust-fund baby. Anyone surprised?---
Mallick: I'm so ****ing sick of your self-righteousness, man!
Brit: Your turn.
Charles: I'm an investigative journalist for The Herald.
Mallick: The Herald? That's your massive accomplishment? You work for a gossip rag?
Charles: Bite your ****ing tongue.
[They look at the jars.]
Brit: What the hell are in those jars?
Charles: Let's do this ****ing thing before the bombs go off.
[Charles closes the door, as the bombs on the first room explode.]
Mallick: ****!
Charles: Not yet!
[Mallick stops.]
Brit: Don't close the door. It'll set off the timer.
Mallick: Do you know that for sure?
Brit: Educated guess.
Luba: What we need to do is figure out who everyone is?
Brit: Okay, well, we know that the dead woman worked for the fire department.---
Charles: Not anymore! She got canned a month ago.
Mallick: How the **** do you...? How the **** do you know that? You're responsible for this? She had her ****ing head cut off! I'm closing the door!, I'm gonna close the ****ing door!
Brit: Just be quiet!, [Mallick stops.] Please? [turns to Luba.] What's your story?
Luba: I work for the Department of City Planning.
Brit: Married? Kids?
Luba: No, and no. Your turn.
Charles: Uh..., You're not gonna tell them about Daddy?
Luba: My dad is... Richard Gibbs.
Mallick: The owner of the Cougars?---
Charles: He's been trying to build a new stadium for years. Little did he know all he had to do is wait for his daughter to get a job in City Planning.
Mallick: [to Brit.] And you. Huh? What about you? What sort of shady shit have you been up to? Huh?
Brit: I'm a senior V.P. for a real estate development company.
Mallick: So you're boring too. Hmm?
[Charles laughs.]
Luba: The Marshvard Group. Yeah, you can't get a permit in this town without going through the Department of City Planning. Right?
Brit: No, you can't.
Luba: What about you?
Mallick: Uh..., No wife, No kids that I know of, No job.
Charles: Trust-fund baby. Anyone surprised?---
Mallick: I'm so ****ing sick of your self-righteousness, man!
Brit: Your turn.
Charles: I'm an investigative journalist for The Herald.
Mallick: The Herald? That's your massive accomplishment? You work for a gossip rag?
Charles: Bite your ****ing tongue.
[They look at the jars.]
Brit: What the hell are in those jars?
Charles: Let's do this ****ing thing before the bombs go off.
[Charles closes the door, as the bombs on the first room explode.]
Mallick: ****!
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Hello and welcome. From birth, you've all been given the advantages of few others. Yet, through poor moral decisions, you've used these advantages to selfishly further only yourselves at the expense of others. Well today, this singular way of thinking will be put to the test. Today, five will become one with the common goal of survival. You are all connected. A cable runs through your collar devices. It can be pulled so tight that you will be decapitated on the mounted razors. The only way to remove the collar is with the keys from the glass boxes on the pedestals before you. However, if one of you moves to retrieve the key, the 60-second timer will begin for you all. In choosing how to react to the situation, your life-long instincts will tell you to do one thing, but I implore you to do the opposite. Let the games begin.
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Hello and welcome. This journey has been one of discovery and hopefully, you've discovered the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. The human body, for instance, is an astoundingly durable creation. It contains approximately ten pints of blood. Yet it is still able to operate with just half of that. The device before you is one of sacrifice. A sacrifice of blood. In order to open the door, the beaker must be filled to the marked level. A level that is of no coincidence. This amount can come from any one of you. But that does not matter. What does matter is time. For in 15 minutes, if the beaker is not filled, the bombs will explode and the doors will be sealed forever. So now I ask you: How much blood will you give in order to survive?
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Hello and welcome. You must all be eager to learn the next important lesson in your transformation. The game before you is designed to bridge the gap between you all. In order to open the five locks on the door out of this room, the five electrical circuits powering them must be closed. The only way to do this is to find a way to connect all five cords to the bath water. Close the circuits, and the door will open. But you must work quickly, for in three minutes, an electrical current will surge through this room, locking the door forever. Who will bridge the gap? The choice is yours.
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Hello, Agent Strahm. If you are hearing this, then you have once again found what you are looking for - or so you think. Your dedication is to be commended. But I ask you if you have learned anything on your journey of discovery. As the old adage goes, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me." The situation you find yourself in is one of trust. So I ask you, Special Agent Strahm: Have you learned to trust me? The only way to survive this room is by entering the glass box before you. Pain will be incurred, but you have a chance of survival. [1] However, if you choose not to, you will never be heard from again. Your body will never be found. You will simply vanish. I ask you, Special Agent Strahm: Have you learned enough to trust me? Will you heed my warning? For if you do not, this room will forever be your tomb. And my legacy will become yours. Make your choice.