Page 52 of Immersed
Found journal (CHECK POCKET—CARRIED OVER).
Trapped in kitchen, gas leak. Asher tried to save us both. Died together.
A distant scream interrupted his documentation—a woman’s voice, high with panic.Zoe.
Levi froze, pen hovering above the page. His first instinctwasto continue writing, to prioritize recording information that might help him break the cycle. But the screamhadcomeduring daylight hours, when the sanitarium should have been relatively safe.
It’s just part of the game.Scripted event to create tension.
But what if itwasn’t? What if the rules changed again? What if danger no longer waited for darkness?
Levi closed his notebook and stood, torn between continuing his documentation and investigating the scream. The rational choice would be to stay put, finish recording his observations while they remained clear in his mind.
But it’s Zoe,he thought, remembering her mutilated body in the forest.I couldn’t save her then.
Levi checked his phone—4:47 PM. Maybe two hours of daylight remaining. Time enough to investigate Zoe’s distress and return to safety before nightfall triggered whatever horrors this loophadin store.
Or time enough to get myself killed before I figure out what’s really happening here.
17
Good Game
Levisprinteddownthecorridor, abandoning his notes and messenger bag on the recreation room chair. The floorboards creaked dangerously beneath his pounding feet, threatening to give way with each step. Zoe’s scream echoed in his mind, setting his heart racing.
“Zoe!”he called, skidding into the large open space where the team set up their equipment.
Four faces turned toward him—Tyler, Jasper, Maddie, and Zoe herself. She sat on a folding chair, face contorted in pain as Maddie knelt beside her, examining her right leg. Blood soaked through Zoe’s jeans from knee to ankle.
“What happened?”Levi asked, rushing to her side.
“Floor gave way,”Zoe said through gritted teeth.“East corridor. Iwassetting up motion sensors and stepped on a weak spot.”
Levi glanced at her injury. The denimwastorn, revealing a jagged gash along her calf where splintered wood sliced through skin and muscle. The woundwasdeep but clean.
“Where’s Owen?”Levi asked, scanning the room.
“Getting the first aid kit from the van,” Tyler replied, hovering uselessly nearby. “Elliot was supposed to be with her. Has anyone seen him?”
Owen burst through the entrance doors, first aid kit clutched in his hands. His glasses slipped down his nose, and he pushed them up with frantic fingers.
“This isn’t going to be enough,”he declared, opening the small white box.“We have bandages and antiseptic, but that needs stitches. Possibly antibiotics too—this building is a bacterial paradise.”
“I’ll be fine,”Zoe insisted, wincing as Maddie dabbed at the wound with an alcohol wipe.“Just wrap it up. We can still get footage of the east wing before dark.”
“Are you insane?”Owen squeaked.“That needs medical attention. Actual medical attention. From someone with a license and clean instruments.”
“It’s just a scratch,”Zoe argued, though her pale face betrayed the pain she felt.
“We should pack up,”Tyler said, suddenly the voice of reason.“We can come back another day.”
Jasper nodded.“Yeah, no ghost is worth sepsis, man.”
“We drove three hours to get here,”Zoe protested.“The equipment is already set up. I’m not ruining this shoot over a little blood.”
Levi watched the argument unfold, his mind racing. This injurywasn’trandom—itwasa game mechanic, designed to create tension and force decisions. But whatwashis role supposed to be?
Then he remembered the messenger bag upstairs.
