Page 43 of Immersed
“That’s okay. Zoe will be back soon.”
“Two minutes,” Asher said, already pulling the cable from his shoulder. “I want to test the signal strength before we go live.”
Levi found himself nodding despite every instinct screaming warnings. This felt too normal, too reasonable. Just a sound technician wanting to check the equipment before recording. Nothing threatening about it.
Except five different versions of this man have killed you.
They moved back toward the visitor’s room where Zoe had left the first recorder. Asher knelt beside the device, producing a small handheld meter from his pocket.
“Signal’s clean,” he announced, adjusting something on the recorder’s base. “No electromagnetic interference from the building’s wiring.”
Levi forced himself to breathe normally, positioning himself near the room’s entrance where he could see both Asher and the hallway. The fading sunlight cast everything in amber tones, softening the harsh institutional edges of the sanitarium.
Levi’s fingers found the straight razor display case behind him, running along its wooden edge for reassurance. A weapon. Something sharp. Something he could use if this version of Asher remembered his true nature.
“You seem jumpy,” Asher observed, following Levi’s gaze to the display case. “More than usual for these investigations.”
“Just the atmosphere,” Levi said. “This place has a different energy than our previous locations.”
“Noted.” Asher slung the remaining cable over his shoulder before he arranged a series of large backup batteries near the outlets on the ground, then paused. “Levi?”
“Yeah?”
“We’re partners on this. Whatever’s bothering you—professional or personal—you can talk to me. I’m not just the sound guy.”
The sincerity in his voice made Levi’s throat tight. This version of Asher seemed to care about their working relationship, their friendship, whatever bond existed in this manufactured reality.
If only you knew what your other selves have done to me.
“I know,” Levi said softly. “Thanks.”
The sharp crack of power strips snapping into backup batteries echoed through the room, followed by Asher’s methodical testing of connections.
A thunderous slam reverberated throughout the building—doors banging shut in rapid succession like dominoes falling. The sound rolled through the sanitarium, each impact harder than the last.
Asher didn’t even flinch. He continued adjusting cable connections as if massive doors slamming themselves shut was normal behavior for abandoned buildings.
Levi’s head whipped toward the hallway, then back to their room. Both doors—the one they entered through and a second door leading to an adjacent room—had closed completely.
Night’s falling. The next phase is starting.
“D-did you hear that?” Levi asked, his voice pitched higher than intended.
“Old building,” Asher replied without looking up. “Temperature changes cause wood to expand and contract. Drafts catch doors that aren’t properly latched.”
The casual explanation felt rehearsed, too convenient. Levi approached the main door and tried the handle. It turned, but the door itself refused to budge, as if something massive pressed against it from the other side.
“It’s stuck,” Levi said, pulling harder.
Asher stood, brushing dust from his knees. He tested the door himself—a gentle push, then increasing pressure. Nothing. The door remained sealed tight.
“Interesting,” Asher murmured, examining the frame. “No external lock mechanism.”
Levi grabbed his walkie-talkie, thumb jamming the transmit button. “Tyler? Zoe? Anyone copy?”
Static hissed back, broken by fragments of electronic noise that almost sounded like whispers.
“Zoe, do you copy? W-we’re locked in up here.”
