Chapter 5 Game Over
Game Over
The bark bit into Levi’s cheek, splinters threatening to break skin.
He shook so violently that his teeth chattered, air coming in short, desperate gasps that barely filled his lungs.
The warm body behind him pressed closer, pinning him more firmly against the tree, the attacker’s chest rising and falling with controlled, even breaths that mocked Levi’s own panic.
The hand over his mouth loosened, but the fingers, slick with what could only be Zoe’s blood, remained pressed against his lips. The metallic taste seeped between them, coating his tongue with copper and salt. Levi gagged against the palm, his stomach threatening another revolt.
Just feet away, the hatchet lay on the forest floor, handle pointing accusingly toward him. So close. So useless.
“Please,” Levi whispered against the fingers when they relaxed enough to allow speech. “Pause. Pause the game.”
Nothing happened. No translucent menu materialized before his eyes. No soothing voice acknowledged his command.
The hand slipped further from his mouth, resting at his jaw like a threat.
“Main menu,” Levi tried again, words fracturing with desperation. “Options. Exit. Virtual Vice override.” His voice gained volume and urgency with each failed attempt. “Oculus home! SteamVR dashboard!”
The forest remained stubbornly, terrifyingly authentic. Wind rustled leaves overhead. An owl called in the distance. The scent of pine and decay filled his nostrils.
“System shutdown,” he gasped, trying every command he could think of. “Remove headset. Safety protocol. Neural interface disconnect!”
His voice rose to a shout. “EMERGENCY OVERRIDE! ADMINISTRATOR MODE!”
The forest didn’t flicker. The stars didn’t dim. The blood coating his lips didn’t disappear.
Tears welled in Levi’s eyes as this twisted version of existence refused to dissolve around him. He thought of his apartment, his streaming setup, his chat watching this breakdown in real-time. Could they see any of this? Was he really alone?
“Voice commands,” he whispered, words breaking. “Hey Alexa. Hey Google. Computer, end program.”
Nothing. Nothing worked.
“End simulation,” he gasped. His last desperate plea to whatever system held him captive. “End game. Please.”
The pressure on Levi’s back eased, but before relief could take hold, strong hands gripped his shoulders, spinning him around.
His back slammed against the tree trunk, knocking what little air remained from his lungs as cold steel pressed against his throat.
Trapped again, but now facing his attacker.
The moonlight filtering through the canopy illuminated the figure before him.
Tall, with broad shoulders and an athletic build that spoke of carefully honed strength.
His face was all sharp angles—high cheekbones and a strong jawline that seemed carved rather than formed.
But it was his eyes that froze Levi’s blood—one brown, one green—both catching the distant firelight with an unnatural gleam.
The man was attractive, his features too perfect, too symmetrical to belong in this gritty, blood-soaked nightmare.
The attacker stared at him, head tilted slightly as if examining a fascinating puzzle. His eyes moved across Levi’s features, from the sweat beading on his forehead to the trembling of his lower lip, like he was cataloging every detail.
“Game?” The word emerged from those lips with genuine bewilderment, as if Levi had spoken in a foreign language.
His brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his perfect features.
He repeated the word, rolling it around his mouth like he was tasting something unfamiliar.
“Game,” he said again, softer this time, more thoughtful.
His head tilted further, predatory curiosity replacing confusion. “What game?”
The knife that had been pressed against Levi’s throat withdrew slowly, the cold metal dragging lightly across his skin without breaking it.
Levi gasped as the blade disappeared, only to feel the man’s hand replace it, fingers splaying across his neck.
Not choking, not yet, just resting against the vulnerable skin.
“I’m done,” Levi’s words shattered like glass, each one a broken fragment. His legs threatened to give way beneath him, knees knocking together in a pathetic rhythm. “I want to end the game. I want to go home. Please. I don’t—I can’t do this anymore.”
The attacker’s eyes lit up, as if Levi’s terror was the most fascinating thing he’d ever witnessed.
“You keep saying that word,” he murmured, his thumb tracing Levi’s jawline with disturbing gentleness. “Game.”
The touch was feather-light yet impossible to escape. The pressure on Levi’s throat intensified, not enough to choke him, but enough to remind him of his complete helplessness. The palm was warm against his skin, each fingertip a point of burning heat.
Levi’s mouth opened and closed, trying to form words that wouldn’t come.
His mind raced through fragmented thoughts—his streaming setup, the neural interface ribbons, his 178 viewers watching from safety.
None of it made sense anymore. How could this feel so tangible if it wasn’t?
How could he taste blood, smell death, feel his heart hammering against his ribs if this was just code and graphics?
The man leaned in closer.
“Your voice...” he whispered, lips brushing against Levi’s earlobe with obscene intimacy. “I like the sound of it.”
His grip tightened around Levi’s throat, cutting off all oxygen.
Panic exploded through Levi’s body like electricity.
His hands flew up, clawing at the attacker’s wrist, catching skin beneath his nails.
His legs kicked out, connecting with nothing but air.
Each movement grew weaker than the last as precious oxygen failed to reach his lungs.
The world began to narrow, his vision telescoping down to those eyes. Brown and green, watching his death with scientific fascination.
“I wish this moment could last forever,” the man murmured, his words growing distant as Levi’s hearing began to fade. “Just you and me.”
Levi’s vision darkened at the edges, the forest dissolving into abstract shapes.
Sounds became muffled, as if heard through water.
The pressure on his throat felt disconnected, like it was happening to someone else’s body.
His sense of smell faded, then taste, then touch.
Only sight remained, and even that was failing.
This is real. This isn’t a game. This isn’t virtual reality. I’m dying.
The realization should have terrified him, but a strange peace began to settle over his fading consciousness. His apartment felt like a dream now—the ring light, the nervous energy, the chat messages. Had any of that been real? Or was this forest, this death, the only truth?
In his fading awareness, fragmented images flashed before him—his brother’s smile, his empty streaming corner, the avatars of people who’d never know what happened to him. His viewers. Were they watching him die in his gaming chair?
The attacker’s face swam before him, those impossible eyes the only clear thing in Levi’s dissolving world. Then, impossibly, the pressure on his throat eased for just a moment.
Lips pressed against his own. A tender kiss, gentle where everything else had been brutal.
I was just trying to help people, was his last coherent thought as consciousness fled. I just wanted to raise money for the foundation. I wanted to make Ethan proud.
The kiss deepened as his vision faded. The man was breathing in his last breath, claiming even that small thing as his own.
Then darkness. Complete and absolute.