Page 47 of Immersed
Partner. The word hung between them, loaded with implications Levi didn’t dare examine.
They looked at the examination table from a safe distance, noting how the clamps locked into position. The mechanism appeared designed to activate when pressure was applied to specific points—a trap for the unwary, or perhaps a security measure to protect the hospital’s secrets.
“Dr. Faine was definitely hiding something,” Asher said, circling the table. “This isn’t standard medical equipment. This is a containment device.”
In the next office, they discovered more evidence of the doctor’s unethical practices. A locked filing cabinet yielded to Asher’s lock-picking skills—those same hands that had been so gentle on Levi’s skin now working the tumblers with practiced ease.
Inside the cabinet, they found Dr. Faine’s personal research notes. The small leather journal contained coded entries spanning decades, documenting experiments on unwilling patients. References to “subject responsiveness,” “breakthrough moments,” and “behavioral manipulation” filled page after page.
“This is evidence,” Levi said, holding the journal. “Proof of what happened here.”
“You should keep it,” Asher said. “It might help piece together the hospital’s history for your video.”
Levi tucked the journal into his jacket, feeling its weight against his chest. The leather felt warm, almost alive, as if it carried the suffering of all the patients who had endured Dr. Faine’s experiments.
They continued exploring, discovering a staff break room that had been preserved better than most of the hospital. Dust-covered tables and chairs remained in neat rows, as if the staff had simply stepped away for lunch and never returned.
“Let’s rest for a minute,” Asher suggested, settling into one of the chairs. He produced a bottle of water from his pack, offering it to Levi. “You look shaky.”
He accepted the water gratefully, surprised by how much he needed it. The cool liquid soothed his dry throat, helping wash away the metallic taste of fear that had been coating his mouth.
“Thanks,” Levi said, settling into the chair across from Asher. Some safe distance felt necessary, even as part of him craved the protective warmth he felt in those arms.
“How did you get into this?” Asher asked, leaning back in his chair. “Ghost hunting, I mean. Paranormal investigation.”
The question felt like a test, another opportunity for Levi to reveal how little he understood this new scenario.
“Started as therapy, kind of,” Levi replied, surprised to find truth in the words. “After my brother died, my counselor suggested channeling my energy into something productive. Gaming didn’t feel like enough anymore.”
Asher’s expression softened. “I’m sorry. That must have been hard.”
“It was.” Levi found himself relaxing slightly, the genuine sympathy in Asher’s voice disarming his defenses. “He loved horror games. Always said they helped him face his fears in a controlled environment. Ironic, considering...”
“Considering what?”
“Nothing. Just... he should have been here for this. He would have loved exploring an abandoned hospital.”He probably would have figured out the puzzle mechanics faster, too.
Asher studied him with those mismatched eyes, and for a moment, Levi feared he revealed too much. But instead of suspicion, he saw something like understanding.
“I lost someone too,” Asher said quietly. “My father. Lost the family recording studio when he died—bad debts, worse business decisions. Had to learn sound engineering the hard way after that.”
The admission felt genuine, personal in a way that made Levi’s chest tight. This version of Asher carried pain, vulnerability—human emotions that seemed impossible to fake.
“Is that why you do this work?” Levi asked. “The freelance audio?”
“Beats working for corporate assholes,” Asher replied with a slight smile. “Plus, your content is actually interesting. Most channels just want manufactured drama. You’re looking for something real.”
“What do you think we’ll find here?” Levi asked, gesturing toward the hospital around them.
Asher was quiet for a moment, considering. “Honestly? I don’t think we’re hunting ghosts. I think we’re documenting victims.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Maybe the ‘supernatural’ activity is just people trying to expose what happened to them.”
Levi studied Asher’s face, searching for any hint of deception. The theory felt too convenient, too aligned with the horror game logic he experienced. But the conviction in Asher’s voice seemed genuine.
“You really believe that?”
“People don’t just disappear without a trace,” Asher replied. “Dr. Faine experimented on patients for decades. Where are the whistleblowers? The families demanding answers? Someone should have exposed this years ago.”
“Maybe they’re still trying to,” Levi suggested.
