Saw III

Game over.

I'll fuckin' kill you!

You fuckin' bitch!

You fuckin' bitch!

I'll fucking kill you!

Help me…

Daniel!

- Secure the back! - Left side clear.

Let's move up!

- Left side's clear. - Let's move!

Oh, my god.

Someone call Kerry.

Call came in at 11:45, a woman heard an explosion.

- Fire department was first on the scene. - Kerry.

- Is it him? - Before you go in there—

Eric, is it him?

We don't know yet.

It's not Detective Matthews.

What happened?

The victim was held in place by these chains.

Hello, Troy.

I want to play a game.

This game will take place in a room not bigger than the room

you've spent most of your life in—

a prison cell.

Despite all of the advantages and privileges that you were given at birth,

you have returned to prison again and again,

more comfortable in chains than you are in freedom.

Tonight, we will see how far you are willing to go

to break those chains once and for all.

Live or die, Troy.

Make your choice.

This was the bomb.

All he had to do

was release himself from each of the chains,

walk out the door,

before it went off.

"All he had to do?"

Oh-oh, god!

Fuck, fuck!

I really had this feeling it was going to be him.

Kerry…

Eric is a missing person case, not a homicide case.

I've been having nightmares where I…

I see him.

I'm never going to be able to forgive myself for what happened.

Listen, it's not your fault.

- It's always somebody's fault. - That somebody isn't you.

That somebody is still out there.

So put all your anger into finding them and putting them away.

All right?

What I don't understand is…

How the hell could Jigsaw do all of this?

He was damn near on his death bed the last time we saw him.

I'm not so sure he did.

So far, this doesn't follow any of his patterns.

Meaning?

Well…

How'd you get in here?

- We cut the door down. - Why?

Because somebody heard an explosion and called us.

I mean, why did you have to cut the door down?

It was welded shut. Bloody truck couldn't get in here.

- Exactly. - I don't follow.

If the aim of Jigsaw's game was to get out before the bomb went off,

then why was the door welded shut?

The guy couldn't get out if he wanted to.

You won't believe this. We got the tape out clean.

Hello, Troy. I want to play a game.

Live or die, Troy.

Make your choice.

Hello, Kerry.

I want to play a game.

Up until now, you have spent your life among the dead,

piecing together their final moments.

You're good at this because you, like them,

are also dead.

Dead on the inside.

You identify more with a cold corpse

than you do with a living human.

I believe you want to join your true family,

indeed your only family,

in death.

The device you are wearing is hooked into your ribcage,

and by the time this tape is finished,

you will have one minute to find a way out.

At the end of that minute,

you should know better than anyone

what happens then.

There is a single key that will unlock the harness, Kerry.

It is right in front of you.

All you have to do

is reach in and take it.

But do it quickly.

The acid will dissolve the key in a matter of seconds.

Make your choice.

You.

I gotta be at the hospital by 9:00.

It's Tuesday. I thought you start at 11:00.

Yeah, well,

they changed things on me last minute.

Well, you better head off, then.

You're not going to take a shower?

Nah.

I'm just gonna take a shower at the hospital.

Can we just…

…talk for 5 minutes?

Hey, how about we just make eye contact for 5 seconds?

What's wrong?

Nothing. It just…

Everything.

Lynn…

What is it you want from me, Chris?

A divorce.

Car skidded into oncoming traffic.

- Pressure? - 80 over, palp. Pulse is ready.

Ready? 1, 2, 3.

- Where's Lynn? - Page Dr. Denlon!

Set up an art-line.

Dr. Lynn Denlon, please report to trauma immediately.

Dr. Lynn Denlon, please report to trauma immediately.

Lynn!

Pressure's dropping rapidly.

Pressure down to 70. He's going into shock.

Get an O.R. ready. We've got to crack his chest.

Did we get a bolus? 500 wide open.

No.

What?

- No air entry on the right side. - And?

It's not blood loss, it's tension. Let's get a chest tube in him.

We got to get him to O.R. now.

His stats are dropping. He's gonna code.

I'm doing it.

I'm getting a rush of air.

Stats are improving.

Pressure back to 80.

Pressure normal.

Look, if you got something on your mind, go upstairs to psych.

Just don't bring it in here. We don't have any seconds to spare, Lynn.

The woman standing in front of me had to be dragged from the locker room

to put a chest tube in a trauma patient?

Lynn Denlon should have been the first one there.

Lynn…

Lynn!

What the hell?

I'm locked in!

Is anybody there?

Hello?

Anybody here?

What is this?! Help!

Help me!

Help!

Who are you? Who are you?!

What is this?!

What are you doing?!

Are you gonna behave?

Let's go.

What is this place? What is this place?!

What is this place?

Who are you? Who are you?!

Hello, Dr. Denlon.

You may not remember me,

but I most certainly remember you.

I was a guest…

at your hospital once.

Where am I?

Do you remember me?

I've seen you on television.

Lawrence Gordon was your doctor.

I was his patient, and he was mine.

As you can see from that report,

my prognosis isn't good.

Would you agree?

There's no preventative treatment for what you have.

I remember you saying that to me once before

in almost that exact same tone.

Leave it to a doctor to find such a cold, clinical way of saying

I'm a dead man walking.

Looking at me, how long would you say I had left?

I'd have to examine you.

Even then, a frontal lobe tumor is unpredictable.

The growth depends on the rate of mitosis versus apoptosis, and—

I'm sorry, but is all this

crude medical equipment around me causing you to believe

that you're still inside a hospital?

No.

Then why are speaking to me in that graduate school medical jargon?

Look at me!

Now you look at me.

I asked you a simple question.

Based on your experience,

how long do you think I have left?

It's not a simple answer.

Based on your file, I'd say…

Not long.

Death is a surprise party.

Unless, of course,

you're already dead on the inside.

Unless you're the type of person who swallows

antidepressants to hide the pain,