Stanley, Kyle, and Cartman wake to find themselves in one of the Jigsaw killer's twisted little games. Getting out, is up to them.

This is my debuting fan fiction on this site. This is only Chapter 1 of what I hope to be an exciting story. A note about the first three chapters, they all take place at roughly the same time. You will just be reading a different characters experience until they meet up in Chapter 4.

Speaking of characters, the main ones are: Kyle, Stanley, Cartman, and Billy the Jigsaw. I may put a one or two others in later, but for now that is all of them, aside from a brief appearance with Ike. Kenny is not in this because of his ability to spring back to life, though he may pop up later, I haven't decided.

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or Saw. Nor do I own the characters.

Chapter 1: Stan's Awakening

He slowly opened his eyes and looked around the room he found himself in. A heavy-weight of some kind rested upon his head. As Stan felt around his skull, a mechanism, strapped around his head, held two sharp, long, metal spikes pointing into his eyes. Judging the distance, each spike was approximately five inches from touching his eyes.

The room Stan awoke in consisted of: a small metal table, a scalpel resting on the table, hand restraints, a door, and a television set. Eight year old Stan Marsh glanced around the dingy room as nothing else was to be seen. A speck of metal in front of each eye wavered in his sight. Suddenly, the television turned on by itself and Billy, the Jigsaw Killer appeared.

"Dude, what the hell is going on here?"

Finally, Billy spoke up, "Hello Stan, you are probably confused as to where you are. As an eight year old boy, you lead a normal and well socialized life, helping others when you are so able to. So the question is, how many will you help today?" Suddenly scenes flashed across the screen of Kyle, and Cartman unconscious and strapped to chairs.

"Oh my God Kyle!" Stan gasped as his friend sat lifelessly in the chair.

"Fear not Stan," Billy the Jigsaw continued, "Kyle and Eric are safe and most likely waking up to their own fates. If the three of you figure out how to free yourselves of these small prisons, then the real test will begin."

"What?! What the fuck is this all about?"

"As you have noticed, your hat has been replaced with something completely different. Let me show you how it works."

The TV cut away from Billy and displayed a model head wearing the contraption. Again each spike rested in front of each eye, only five inches away. With a small touch of a button by Billy, the spikes hurled themselves into what would be the eyes of the head and burst through the back of the skull. With each spike measuring at approximately a foot in length, there was more than enough to stick out the other end.

"Dude, this is not happening, this can not be fucking happening." Stan repeated to himself.

"There is only one key to open the device. I'll give you a hint." The screen flashed an x-ray of Stan's left hand. In the center of the x-ray, a small key could be seen at the palm. "To lend a helping hand to your friends, you will first have to sacrifice one of your own. The device is timed at sixty seconds. Live or die Stan, make your choice."

The television flicked off and a timer began on the device.

"No, NO, NO, NOO!! I can't do this. I can't fucking do this!" Stan screamed at the television, hoping the doll would hear him.

To lend a helping hand to your friends, you will first have to sacrifice one of your own. Billy's phrase repeated itself over and over in Stan's head. What kind of trouble were Kyle and Cartman in? Would they make it out of their own traps? What did Stan have that they needed? Tears flooding his eyes, Stan thought to himself, somehow, I have to do this.

Shackling down his left hand to the restraint, Stan then grabbed the scalpel and lowered it towards his palm. Sweat poured down his face as the blade reached his palm. The timer ticking in his head, Stan applied pressure to the scalpel and made a swift cut to his palm.

"AHHHHHHH!!" Stan cried in pain as blood spilled from the wound. Tick, tick, tick; Stan had counted twenty seconds off the timer as it continued.

Stan quickly forced another cut into the palm, a cut that connected the previous on his palm. Again Stan cried in agony as more blood poured from the fresher wound. Five seconds ticked by on the timer. Another cut and Stan almost dropped the scalpel out of agonizing pain. This cut connected the previous two and formed a triangle which covered the majority of the palm. Stan hovered the small blade over to one corner of the palm and drove the blade under the skin, in an attempt to lift the corner as a flap.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" With that, Stan dropped the scalpel and clutched his hand. A flab of skin protruded from his palm, where the scalpel had been. Shaking violently, Stan tried to regain composure. Tick, tick tick, fifteen seconds fell from the timer.

Quickly, Stan picked up the scalpel and tore off the triangular piece of skin, screaming wildly while doing so. He started butchering up the tissue beneath the skin as he wildly stabbed at the gushing wound. Seven more seconds dropped off the timer as Stan frantically tore apart his hand. Suddenly, a glint of gold caught his eye. He quickly shoved the scalpel into his hand and caught the key, then ripped it out of his hand as quickly as possible.

With eight seconds remaining, Stan franticly grabbed the key and searched wildly for the slot and found it in a manner of two seconds. Stan shoved the key into its slot and lifted off the device with his one hand. He quickly threw the machine to the floor. The spikes shot forward a whole foot just before the machine hit the ground.

Stan sat there motionless. He couldn't bear to move any part of his body. Looking down at his hand, he saw a tortured, mangled hand, completely losing blood. The pain refused to die, yet Stan could no longer feel his fingers.

Suddenly the television turned back on. The same doll sat before Stan on the screen, "Congratulations Stan, you are still alive. Might I suggest that before you leave, you check under your chair for an item of great value."

Stan reluctantly turned over his chair where he found a small plastic bag containing another key.

"The key you have discovered will come in handy quite soon, so I suggest that you don't loose it. Keep in mind that there is more than just Kyle and Cartman's lives in your hands Stan. Who lives and who dies is up to you. For I assure you, the choice will be made again."

And with that, the television flicked off for a final time. He suddenly fell to the floor, screaming madly. As he breathed, the dust flew up a few feet in front of him and he noticed the door at the end of the room. After minutes of resting on the ground, clutching his hand, Stan slowly rose to his feet and staggered towards the door. He found it to be unlocked and pushed his way through, slipping the key into his pocket. Once outside the room, Stan collapsed onto the floor and blacked out.