Chapter 22 Backstory
Backstory
Levi pressed forward, following the faint sound of Elliot’s voice echoing from somewhere ahead. The concrete walls seemed to close in with each step, and the musty air carried undertones of something chemical and wrong.
“Elliot!” he called out again. His voice bounced off the walls, distorted by the narrow space.
No response this time.
Behind him, Asher moved with predatory silence. Even in the cramped passage, he managed to avoid making noise—a skill that would have been admirable if it weren’t so unsettling.
They reached another junction, this one branching into four directions. Levi stopped, listening for any sign of where Elliot might have gone.
Silence.
“Shit,” Levi muttered, pulling out his phone to check for signal. Nothing. The building’s metal infrastructure was blocking everything.
“We should pick a direction and commit,” Asher suggested. “Standing here won’t help him.”
Levi chose the left passage, mostly because it seemed to slope upward. Maybe it leads back to the main building.
“Can I ask you something?” Asher asked.
“No.”
“I’m just curious about you. We’ve been through so much together, but I don’t really know anything personal.”
“There’s nothing to know.”
“Everyone has something.” Asher’s tone remained patient. “What do you do for work? Where did you grow up?”
Levi kept walking, refusing to engage. But the questions stirred something uncomfortable in his chest—a loneliness he’d been carrying for months. When was the last time someone asked him personal questions? When was the last time anyone had been curious about his life?
Fuck it. Maybe talking would help pass the time. Maybe it would make this nightmare feel a little less isolating.
“I stream,” he said. “Gaming content. Not very successfully, so I work as a barista at this shitty coffee shop to pay rent.”
“What kind of games?”
“Indie stuff. Puzzle games, some RPGs. Nothing too intense.” Levi paused, then added quietly, “I hate horror games.”
“I suppose being in this building is like a horror game, right?” Asher chuckled.
“Yeah, well. Life’s got a sick sense of humor.” They reached another junction, and Levi chose the right passage this time. “I mostly just... exist in a small apartment, no friends really. I order takeout, play games, try to pay rent.”
“Sounds lonely.”
The simple observation hit harder than any criticism would have. “Yeah. It is.”
“Do you have family?”
The question made Levi’s step falter. I had family. Past tense. “I did.”
Silence stretched between them, and for a moment Levi thought Asher would push for details. Instead, he said, “I’m sorry.”
“What about you?” Levi asked, deflecting. “What’s your sob story?”
“Similar, actually.” Asher’s voice carried an unexpected note of vulnerability. “I’m pretty isolated. No real connections. I spent most of my time alone, working on projects that don’t matter to anyone but me.”
Projects. Levi wondered what that meant, but didn’t ask.
“I never thought of it as lonely, but that changed recently,” Asher continued.
There was something in his tone—a recognition, like he understood exactly what Levi was describing.
“What’s your favorite food?” Asher asked suddenly, his tone shifting to something lighter, almost eager.
The abrupt change caught Levi off guard. “Uh... pizza, I guess? Why?”
“Just curious. What kind of pizza? What about drinks? Coffee, soda, alcohol?”
“Pepperoni pizza. Black coffee, usually. Sometimes beer.” Levi found himself smiling despite the weirdness of the conversation. There was something almost childlike in Asher’s rapid-fire curiosity.
“Favorite smell?”
“That’s... random.”
“Just answer.”
Levi thought about it. “Coffee brewing, I guess. Or that smell right after it rains.”
“Petrichor,” Asher said. “That’s what it’s called. What about textures? What do you like to touch?”
The question made something uncomfortable shift in Levi’s chest. There was an intimacy to it that felt strange, invasive in a way he couldn’t quite identify.
“I don’t know. Soft things, I guess? Cotton, maybe.”
“What about rough textures? Do you like contrast?”
Why does he care about what I like to touch? But Asher’s voice held such fascination, like he was cataloguing every detail about Levi’s preferences with delighted attention.
“Sometimes,” Levi admitted. “Like... tree bark, or concrete. Depends on my mood.”
“Favorite season?”
“Fall. Less people outside, good weather for staying in.”
“Favorite time of day?”
“Early morning, before anyone else is awake.”
Asher made a small sound of approval. “I like that too. The world feels more... honest then.
This is the side of him that isn’t terrifying, Levi realized. The part that was just... curious. Human.
“What about you?” Levi asked. “What are your favorites?”
“Dark chocolate. Black coffee, like you. The smell of rain on hot asphalt.” Asher paused. “And you. I like the way your skin feels.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Levi said quickly, alarm bells starting to ring in his mind that things were going off the rails.
But Asher continued with that same innocent, curious tone. “I like how soft your lips are. And how skinny your arms are, but there’s a little muscle there. And the smell of your sweat when you’re scared.”
Jesus Christ. The way he catalogued these intimate details, like they were just normal preferences, as if he were discussing favorite colors, was making Levi’s stomach hurt.
“St-stop,” Levi said, but Asher kept going.
“I like how your pulse gets faster when I touch your wrist. And the way you shiver sometimes when I’m close to you.”
Without thinking, Levi spun around and pressed his palm flat against Asher’s chest, pushing him back a step. “I said stop.”
Asher went quiet, but his face transformed. A slow, delighted smile spread across his features.
“You touched me,” he said softly.
Shit. Levi jerked his hand back.
“That was to make you stop talking,” Levi said quickly, backing away.
But Asher’s smile only widened. “You could have just walked away. Or told me to shut up again. But you touched me.”
“Let’s just keep moving,” Levi said, turning back around so he wouldn’t have to look at Asher’s pleased expression.
They reached a door marked “Maintenance Access - Authorized Personnel Only.” Levi tried the handle, surprised when it opened easily.
The room beyond was small and cluttered with old equipment—pipes, electrical panels, and boxes of forgotten supplies. But what caught Levi’s attention was the window set high in one wall, showing a view of the sanitarium’s exterior grounds.
Finally. A reference point. They were maybe on the second floor, based on what he could see from the window.
“Levi.”
Something in his tone made Levi turn. Asher was standing beside a set of storage shelves, looking down at something on the floor.
Elliot lay crumpled between two electrical panels, his expensive camera smashed beside him. His neck was bent at an impossible angle, eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. A thin line of blood dried at the corner of his mouth.
No. Levi rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside the body. “Elliot?”
But even as he reached out to check for a pulse, he knew it was pointless. The way Elliot’s head tilted, the stillness—death was obvious.
“His neck’s broken,” Asher said, stuffing his hands in his pocket. “Probably fell down a shaft or got caught in some kind of trap.”
The matter-of-fact tone, the clinical assessment, made something crack inside Levi’s mind. He stared down at Elliot’s face, remembering the NPC’s scripted flirtation, his programmed personality, his artificial concern.
But he felt real. Even knowing Elliot was just programming, just scripted responses and fake memories, seeing him dead hurt.
“This is n-never going to end,” Levi whispered, his voice breaking. “Is it?”
Asher moved closer, kneeling beside him. “What do you mean?”
“The loops. The deaths. I’m going to keep dying, over and over, and slowly lose my mind.” He buried his face in his hands as he felt tears burning his eyes. “I c-can’t... I can’t keep watching people die. Even if they’re not real, even if it’s just programming, I can’t—”
His breath hitched, the walls of the small room suddenly feeling like they were closing in. The weight of everything—Ethan’s death, the isolation, the repeated trauma—crashed down at once.
“Hey.” Asher’s voice was surprisingly gentle. “Look at me.”
Levi turned, expecting to see predatory satisfaction or cold amusement. Instead, he found genuine concern in those heterochromatic eyes.
“I’m helping you,” Asher said. “We’re figuring this out together. You’re not alone in this.”
The kindness in his voice was so unexpected that it shattered what remained of Levi’s composure. Tears he tried to hold back spilled over, and he buried his face in his hands again.
“I just w-want to go home,” he sobbed.
Warm fingers pulled his hands away from his face as Asher moved closer, close enough that Levi could feel body heat radiating from him. This close, the sharp angles of his face looked almost serene in the flickering light.
“We’ll find a way out,” Asher promised, his thumb brushing away a tear from Levi’s cheek. “I won’t let you stay trapped here.”
The touch was so gentle, so careful, that it made Levi’s chest tight with confusion. This was the same person who strangled him, shot him, drowned him. But right now, in this moment, Asher felt like safety incarnate.
God, he’s beautiful.
Even knowing what Asher was capable of, even remembering all the deaths and violations, Levi couldn’t deny the attraction that pooled low in his belly. The strong jaw, the intelligent eyes, the careful way he touched—as if Levi were something precious.
I want to kiss him. The realization was horrifying and undeniable. Here, beside Elliot’s corpse, while trapped in a death maze, he wanted to lean forward and press his lips to Asher’s. The urge was so strong and sudden that he actually started to lean closer, drawn by the promise of comfort.
A grinding sound echoed through the walls around them. Something heavy was moving in the building’s infrastructure, getting closer.
Asher’s head snapped up, instantly alert. The gentle moment shattered.
“We need to go,” he said, rising to his feet. “Now.”
The grinding was getting louder, accompanied by what sounded like metal scraping against concrete. Whatever was moving through the building’s hidden systems was big.
Asher extended his hand to help Levi up, and without thinking, Levi took it.
“Stay behind me,” Asher said, moving toward the door. “I’ll keep you safe.”
They slipped out of the maintenance room and back into the corridor system. The grinding sounds were coming from multiple directions now, as if the building’s hidden systems were converging on their location.
“This way,” Asher whispered, choosing a passage that led away from the loudest noises.
They ran through the flickering light, Asher’s hand still holding Levi’s, guiding him through the maze of concrete corridors. Each turn brought new sounds—grinding gears, sliding walls, the whisper of metal on metal.
But even as they fled through the nightmare of the sanitarium’s hidden halls, part of him wanted to stop running. Part of him wanted to grab Asher’s face and kiss him until the terror and loneliness stopped.
What the hell is wrong with me?