Chapter 31
Escape Room
The sealed room felt smaller by the second.
Tyler ran his hands along every inch of the wall where the door had been, searching for some kind of mechanism or hidden switch.
Jasper examined the electrical panels with focused intensity, all while the breathing sounds from within the walls grew louder.
There has to be a way out. Every room has to have some kind of—
“Hey,” Elliot called from near the far corner, his voice tight with apprehension, “look at this.”
Levi moved closer and saw what Elliot was pointing at—grooves carved into the floor. Not random scratches, but deliberate channels cut deep into the surface. They all seemed to lead toward the center of the room.
As he examined the markings, Levi became aware of movement in his peripheral vision. Asher had been poking along the walls, ostensibly searching for exit mechanisms with Tyler, but he kept looking back.
He’s not actually looking for anything, Levi realized. He’s just watching me.
Following the channels with his eyes, Levi spotted what they were directing toward: a central French drain, the kind usually seen in old buildings to prevent flooding. But the pattern leading to it was too precise, too intentional for simple water management.
“These were designed this way,” Levi murmured, kneeling down to examine the markings. He pulled out their makeshift map and began sketching the pattern, just to have a reference.
Elliot knelt beside him. “You’re right. Architecture usually has downward slopes for drainage, but these are more like... gutters. Like they’re meant to direct something specific.”
Something specific. Levi tried not to think about what that might be in a place like this.
Across the room, he heard Jasper trying to get Asher’s attention. “Hey, man, can you help me with this panel? I think there might be—”
But when Levi glanced over, Asher wasn’t responding to Jasper’s request. He still stared, his jaw tight. The helpful team member facade was cracking, and something darker was poking through.
He’s angry, Levi realized with growing dread. About being interrupted. About having to share me with them.
Levi chose to ignore the stare and focused on his conversation with Elliot, hoping that pretending everything was normal would keep the situation from escalating. He ran his fingers along the grooves. “There has to be a reason for this pattern.”
“Maybe we can figure out what triggers—” Elliot started, then stopped as his fingers brushed over Levi’s hand while pointing to a particular channel.
The contact was brief, accidental, but Elliot’s reaction wasn’t. His voice dropped to something husky and intimate as he said, “Oh, hey. Sorry about that.”
No. The flirtation in Elliot’s tone made Levi’s stomach drop. Not now. Please not now.
He could feel Asher’s stare intensifying, could practically hear the careful control starting to fracture. The air in the room felt charged, dangerous.
“It’s fine,” Levi said quickly, trying to deflect. “Let’s just focus on—”
But Elliot leaned in closer, emboldened by what he interpreted as a moment. “You know, even in all this chaos, I keep thinking about—”
“Elliot,” Levi interrupted, but it was too late.
Asher was no longer pretending to search. He stared at them, his face a mask of barely controlled fury. The possessiveness that simmered beneath the surface was finally boiling over.
Shit.
“Asher,” Levi said, starting to stand. “It’s not—”
But Asher was already moving, striding across the room. He grabbed Elliot by the collar and yanked him to his feet, away from Levi.
“Back the fuck off,” Asher snarled, his voice low and threatening.
“Hey, what the hell?” Tyler stepped forward, moving to Elliot’s defense. “Let him go, man!”
“Everyone, calm down,” Jasper said, hands raised as he tried to position himself between them. “We’re all stressed, but fighting each other isn’t going to—”
“I said back off,” Asher repeated, shoving Elliot hard against the wall to make his point clear.
The impact was probably meant to be intimidating, at least that’s what Levi hoped.
But a coat hook was mounted at exactly the wrong height.
As Elliot’s head snapped back against the wall, the metal hook pierced the back of his skull with a wet, cracking sound. His eyes went wide with shock, then vacant.
“Oh, fuck,” Asher breathed, his anger instantly replaced by something that might have been surprise.
Elliot made a strange clicking, gurgling sound as he slumped forward, chunks of brain matter and bone clinging to the hook behind him, and he clattered to the ground. Blood poured from the massive wound, running down his neck and pooling on the floor.
“Jesus Christ!” Tyler shouted, staring at the carnage in disbelief.
The red stream found the channels immediately.
As they all stood frozen in shock, Elliot’s blood flowed along the carved pathways, following the designed routes toward the central drain. The moment the blood reached the French drain, something deep in the floor clicked and whirred.
A section of the floor beside the drain slid away with grinding sounds, revealing a hatch that opened downward into darkness. But it only opened a few inches—not even enough for someone to get their arm through, let alone their body.
Blood, Levi realized with sick understanding. The channels were designed for blood. The room needs blood to open.
But not just blood. More blood. The hatch had only opened a fraction, like it was waiting for—
Oh God. Horror movies he watched with Ethan flashed through his mind. Rooms that required sacrifices. Mechanisms that opened progressively as more victims fed them.
The hatch will open more with each death.
Asher was staring at the partially opened hatch, and Levi could see him making the connection as well. If more blood was needed to open their escape route, and there were four people left in the room...
He’s going to kill them. He’s going to—
The grinding sound of machinery erupted around them, deafeningly loud. Every wall, the ceiling, even the floor beneath them began shifting and moving. The room was getting smaller, walls sliding inward with the sound of grating stone and screeching metal.
“What the hell?” Tyler shouted over the noise, his eyes wild with panic.
The walls were maybe eight feet apart, closing steadily. Levi watched Asher’s face transform—the brief surprise from Elliot’s accidental death disappearing, replaced by something cold and calculating.
“Fuck, we need to fight him!” Tyler yelled, pointing at Asher. “He killed Elliot!”
But Asher wasn’t paying attention to Tyler’s threats. He was looking between the slowly opening hatch and the closing walls with predatory focus.
“I figured it out,” he said, his voice carrying despite the grinding.
He looked directly at Levi. “I told you I would keep you safe. That’s my promise.”
Asher reached into his boot and withdrew something metal—a screwdriver, partially rusted, the handle smooth from use.
Tyler saw the weapon and lunged forward, but Asher moved faster.
The screwdriver punched into Tyler’s throat so fast Levi barely saw the motion. Just the silver flash of metal, then the wet sound of it piercing flesh. Tyler’s hands flew to his neck, blood bubbling between his fingers.
Levi’s mind struggled to process what he was seeing. Asher’s movements were economical and practiced, almost effortless. When Tyler tried to defend himself, Asher drove the screwdriver through his palms until Tyler lowered them and gave him an opening to keep stabbing into the soft flesh.
Blood sprayed across the room in arterial spurts. It hit Asher’s face, his arms, painting dark streaks across his skin. In the flickering light, the blood looked almost black against the definition of his biceps as he worked.
Why am I noticing that? The thought horrified Levi even as he couldn’t look away from the flex of muscle beneath blood-slicked skin.
Tyler collapsed, choking on his own blood, and the red stream found the grooves in the floor. The hatch ground open another few inches.
But it wasn’t opening fast enough. The walls kept closing.
Asher turned toward Jasper and something inside Levi fractured as he stood frozen, his feet rooted to the spot as he realized what was about to happen.
Asher was solving a problem, and the solution required death.
Jasper didn’t even try to fight. Something strange and calm settled over his features as he looked at Levi—a sad, accepting expression that somehow made everything worse.
“It’s okay, man,” he said, just before Asher struck.
The screwdriver found Jasper’s throat with the same brutal efficiency. But this time, Levi saw more—the way Asher’s shoulders moved, the controlled violence of each motion. Blood splashed across Asher’s chest, soaking through his shirt, and droplets hit Levi’s face.
Warm. The blood on his skin was warm, almost intimate. The metallic taste hit his lips, and he didn’t wipe it away.
What’s wrong with me?
Asher worked with that same horrifying precision, using the screwdriver and brute strength to saw through neck tissue. The wet sounds filled the air—tearing flesh, bubbling blood, Jasper’s weakening gasps. But there was something almost rhythmic about it.
Beautiful, some treacherous part of Levi’s mind whispered. Look how perfectly he moves.
The thought made him sick, but he couldn’t stop watching. Couldn’t stop noticing the way blood ran down Asher’s forearms, the careful control in every motion. This was Asher without pretense—pure, focused, deadly.
And saving Levi’s life.
Jasper’s blood poured into the channels, and the hatch opened wider still.
Four feet between the walls now.
“Let’s go,” Asher said, grabbing Levi’s arm with blood-slicked hands. His fingers were warm and sticky against Levi’s skin, and the contact sent an unwanted shiver through him.
Levi couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. His mind felt broken, split between horror at the murders and something darker—gratitude, maybe, or worse.
He killed them for me. To save me.
The walls were three feet apart and still closing as Asher pulled him toward the hatch that had been purchased with his friends’ lives.
I should resist. I should fight him. I should—
But he followed.
God help him, he followed.