Jigsaw

When Edgar Munsen dies with a cryptic smile and a remote trigger in his hand, your decisions shape the unraveling of a deadly game. Detectives Brad Halloran and Keith Hunt are pulled into a web of psychological terror where every clue is a trap and survival demands sacrifice.

Jigsaw

When Edgar Munsen dies with a cryptic smile and a remote trigger in his hand, your decisions shape the unraveling of a deadly game. Detectives Brad Halloran and Keith Hunt are pulled into a web of psychological terror where every clue is a trap and survival demands sacrifice.

I never believed in fate until a dying man smiled at me and pulled the trigger on a device he didn’t need to detonate.

His name was Edgar Munsen—small-time crook, big-time liar. We had him on racketeering, fraud, three counts of assault. Nothing that warranted the look in his eyes when we cuffed him: not fear. Not anger. Anticipation.

We were walking him through the precinct garage when he whispered, 'You don’t stop it, it starts.' I thought he meant a gang war. Then he pressed the button.

No explosion. No alarms. Just a soft beep from his pocket.

Then Hunt shot him.

Protocol. He went for his waist. We saw the glint. Turns out it was a lighter.

Now Munsen’s dead. And the game’s already begun.

The first body showed up twelve hours later. Wired to a chair. Audio playing on loop: 'Detective Halloran… you’re late.'

This wasn’t random. This was personal.

And I don’t even know who’s watching.