Page 33 of Immersed
“See? That wasn’t so terrible, was it?”
Levi couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. The evidence of his body’s treacherous response was obvious, impossible to hide in their close proximity.
The stranger’s gaze tracked downward, a smile spreading across his features like sunrise. “Well, well,” he huffed, voice rich with satisfaction. “Isn’t that interesting?”
“P-please,” Levi whispered, the word barely audible. “Don’t.”
The knife trailed down from Levi’s throat, over his collarbone, continuing its descent until it reached the hem of his t-shirt. With a quick, precise movement, the stranger sliced through the fabric, splitting it open from bottom to top.
Cool air hit Levi’s exposed chest as the ruined shirt fell open. The stranger’s gaze darkened further as it roamed over newly revealed skin, taking in every detail with hungry appreciation.
“Beautiful,” he breathed, the knife continuing its path along Levi’s sternum without breaking skin. The cold metal left a trail of sensation that made Levi shudder. “I knew you would be.”
Something snapped inside Levi. Terror overrode his paralysis, sending a surge of desperate strength through his limbs. He shoved hard against the stranger’s chest, the sudden movement catching his tormentor off guard.
The stranger stumbled backward, thrown off-balance. Levi lunged for the desk, fingers closing around the heavy brass lamp. He swung it wildly, connecting with the stranger’s shoulder in a satisfying impact.
The blow sent shockwaves up Levi’s arm. The stranger laughed—a sound of genuine delight—as he ducked the second swing with fluid grace.
Levi backed toward the filing cabinet, lamp held before him like a shield. The stranger advanced slowly, knife glinting in the dim light. His bare chest showed a reddening mark where the lamp had struck, but he moved with undiminished grace.
“You’re making this so much more fun than the others,” the stranger said, circling to cut off Levi’s path to the door. “They just cowered and begged. But you—you have spirit.”
Levi’s back hit the desk again. Desperate, he swept his arm across its surface, sending papers and office supplies flying toward his attacker. The stranger batted them away effortlessly, never losing his predatory focus, though his smile widened with appreciation.
“Resourceful too,” he noted, deflecting a flying paperweight with the flat of his blade. “I do so enjoy a challenge.”
Their deadly dance continued, Levi wielding the lamp with increasing desperation as the stranger toyed with him. The killer occasionally let the knife nick skin—small, stinging cuts on his arms and shoulders that drew beads of blood but caused no serious damage. Each cut was precisely placed, designed to wound but not disable.
“You’re learning,” the stranger observed as Levi managed to avoid a particularly aggressive feint. “Adapting. I wonder what else you’re capable of.”
A miscalculated step sent Levi stumbling over the bedroll. He crashed to the floor, the lamp flying from his grip and skittering across the wooden planks. Before he could recover, the stranger was on him.
The stranger flipped Levi onto his stomach and pressed a knee into the small of Levi’s back, pinning him to the floor with uncomfortable pressure.
“Careful now,” the stranger warned as Levi struggled beneath him. “You wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
One hand gathered Levi’s wrists, twisting his arms behind his back. The position sent spikes of pain through his shoulders, already strained from the earlier struggle.
“There we go,” the stranger whispered, his voice close to Levi’s ear, breath warm against his neck. “Much better. Now we can really get to know each other.
11
Skill Issue
Levi’scheekpressedagainstthe rough floorboards. He bucked upward, trying to dislodge the weight pinning him down, but the stranger just adjusted his position, his knee pressing more into the small of Levi’s back.
“I love how you keep fighting.” His free hand traced the curve of Levi’s spine with deliberate slowness. “So much spirit. It’s intoxicating.”
Cold metal pressed against Levi’s exposed back—the flat of the knife blade, sliding along his skin. The stranger’s touch wandered lower, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of Levi’s jeans.
“St-stop,” Levi gasped, renewing his struggles. The floorboards scraped against his face as he tried to twist away. “P-please stop.”
The hand withdrew from his waistband, but only to trace patterns across Levi’s shoulder blades. His nails pressed into flesh, not quite breaking skin but leaving angry red crescents.
“Your skin marks so beautifully,” he said. “Like canvas waiting for art.”
Levi felt hot breath against his neck, then the wet heat of a tongue tracing the shell of his ear. His entire body shuddered with revulsion, muscles tensing beneath the stranger’s weight.
