Lewis reached out to touch the cheek of the fifth. She was exactly like him, except her gaze was far off, not focused on anything in particular. Her skin had no texture or warmth. She felt like hard plastic.
“You know, sometimes I think I’m weird, but I’m glad to know that there’s always another even stranger than me,” Lewis said. “Nice video game fantasy you have here.”
“It’s not a video game if the player is actually real,” the Voice replied, laughing as the five models disappeared in a flash.
“You said it yourself. It’s virtual reality, or something. I mean, that’s cool, man. You got something to have a wank to every now and then. I’m sure Lana isn’t going to be too pleased about you stealing her likeness, but—”
“You’re not thinking this through. Lewis, I have you tied up. No one knows where you are. You think Lana is going to come save you from this? She never came for me. You might be stuck in here a long time, living as her.”
Lewis wasn’t about to let the Voice abolish all the joy in the room. “Hey, there’s plenty worse I could think of. It’s not so bad. She’ll come at once. I know her.”
“Will she now?”
Suddenly, a wind swirled throughout the room. It ramped up in intensity so quickly that Lewis found himself struggling to stay on his feet. Long hair whipped violently behind his head as he stumbled for the door, rolling to his back and tumbling out of the bedroom. The door slammed shut behind him, so loud that his ears rang.
“Choices await you,” the Voice spoke ominously.
Lewis rolled to his hands and knees and looked forward. A hallway stretched on into the distance and beyond, door after door lining each wall. There were hundreds of them!
“Choices? What do you mean?”
Something dropped from the ceiling, plopping on the carpet right behind him. Lewis heard a rattling noise before his eyes even focused on it, a coiled serpent raising its head, baring its fangs for an immediate attack. Lewis scrambled to his feet as the scaly head lunged for him, missing his calf by mere inches.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” he screamed, jumping for the nearest door and twisting the knob. The door gave, and he fell on through, rolling into a freezing-cold powder.
The Voice laughed. “I’ve never seen Lana Craft so scared before! My eyes deceive me! She’s always so fearless, Lewis. Nothing ever worries her. Not even a tiny little rattlesnake.”
“Screw you!”
Lewis was glad to have a wall between him and the venomous reptile, but relief was short-lived. He went to his feet quickly, hugging his body with his arms, for his legs were ankle-deep in fresh snow. There were no walls of a Craft manor spare bedroom beyond, but rather a snowy landscape, sharp mountains poking through the low-hanging clouds in the distance.
Worse yet, Lewis was still naked, and the air around him felt below freezing! His feet had already gone totally numb.
The Voice spoke again, as clear as in the master bedroom, seemingly coming from the wind itself. “Ah yes, Lana’s been far up north several times, all over the world. Surely she can survive a little challenge in the cold and snow. That’s easy for her!”
“You sick bastard,” Lewis uttered, his teeth chattering while frosted breath streamed from his nose and mouth. Every inch of his body was cold to the bone, and wrapping his thin arms around himself did little to appease the discomfort.
Just ahead was a sharp drop-off, a cliff almost hidden under white snowpack. Lewis eased himself toward the edge, his toes colder with each step. It was a long fall down, lined on either side by sharp, exposed rocks. A fall would mean instant death.
Lewis wiped his running nose. “What do you expect me to … d-do?”
“Jump, of course. I saw Lana do it all the time. A piece of cake for her! I bet you can do it.”
Lewis stared ahead. It was a ten-foot gap from one end to the other, a doable jump had he not been freezing his ass off and inhabiting someone else’s body.
“Or what? What if I don’t?”
“You face consequences. An approaching predator, perhaps? That should get you motivated.”
Lewis turned, the color draining from his slender, borrowed physique. Something moved in the snow just behind him, an animal as white as the landscape, nearly concealed in the blowing gusts. He squinted into the white cloud, spotting a large shape lumbering on four thick, powerful legs. A black nose emerged, ahead of a broad snout and dark eyes. The beast’s white fur rippled in the wind, snowflakes caught between the individual hair.
It growled when it noticed him.
“A … p-polar bear?” Lewis gasped, instinctively backing closer to the edge. An overhanging clump of frozen snow broke loose and fell into the abyss below, revealing the rocky ledge.
“Jump or be bear food, Lewis!” the Voice announced. “He’s caught your scent now. He won’t be letting you out of his sight!”
Lewis reminded himself that this was all some perverted horror game, created by the man who had abducted him from the Craft manor. None of it was real—though that didn’t stop his heart from racing at the sight of a one-thousand pound, four-legged monstrosity with a jaw powerful enough to snap his leg in two. Anyone would be shitting their pants.
Then, it charged.
“Now, Lewis!” the Voice boomed. “Decision time!”
Despite its gargantuan size, the animal moved quick, bounding through the snow and kicking up thick white clouds in its wake. Lewis turned, took three steps back—any more would’ve put him within range of being clawed by the approaching polar bear—and jumped with every ounce of strength in his frozen legs. The deadly pit loomed below him, passing almost in slow motion.
“Ahhh!” he screamed, arms flailing through the air, reaching to grasp the other side of the gap. Then, the ledge jumped farther ahead, way out of reach. Lewis slammed into the rockface, his chest ripping open on a sharp-edged boulder. He scrambled for grip, fighting through the pain, ripping one fingernail after another, yet his numb fingers could find no surface to cling to.
With a red mist following him down, Lewis tumbled to the bottom of the pit, ricocheting off both sides until his body was mangled and covered in blood. The impact at the bottom snapped his neck, crushing his skull from the back. His arms were twisted unnaturally, while one leg had been severed clean off, cleaved by a blow he hadn’t even felt.
One eye stared up, unblinking, as a massive boulder broke loose from the cliff and hurtled down the pit, coming straight for him. Lewis couldn’t make a single sound as it all went dark, everything being replaced by searing pain …
… and then there was the cold around his feet, numbing his toes.
“What?”
The Voice laughed obnoxiously. “An admirable effort, Lewis! You might’ve had the distance there. Good form, too.”
Lewis glanced down. He was standing in the snow again, overlooking the gap. He was still in Lana’s body, as naked as before, only without the life-threatening lacerations and crushed bones.
“Try again, Ms. Craft.”
“You … you fucking tricked me!” Lewis shouted at the top of his lungs. “I had that gap, and then you made it bigger!”
“Did I? Sorry. I didn’t want it to be so easy. Now, let’s see you do it again.”
Lewis heard the polar bear behind him. It was just like before, caught between a hungry, carnivorous beast and a deadly drop that would literally rip his body apart. He backed toward the edge, momentarily entranced by the animal’s black eyes. It started to charge, but this time he stayed still, trembling in Lana’s naked skin.
Not again, Lewis told himself. It’s a sick, twisted game. The gap isn’t the way to go.
The polar bear lunged at him, opening its mouth wide. Lewis was thrown to the ground, razor-sharp claws digging through his hairless flesh, spilling warm blood all down his body. Then, its jaws snapped around one of his legs, biting through all the way to the bone.
Lewis cried out in pain, right before the gargantuan beast flung his limp b
ody around and snapped his neck with a crack.
A moment later, he was standing again, his feet buried in the freezing-cold snow.
“Wrong again, Lewis,” the voice told him. “A foolish choice if you ask me. Lana’s a strong woman, but I don’t think she can handle a polar bear in a fistfight.”
“Fuck you!” Lewis spat, screaming at the sky.
There was a glint just above him, and then a heavy tool fell into the snow. Lewis jogged forward, spotting an ice axe, the sort used for ice-climbing. He remembered Lana having a similar one back in Tibet.
“Too many fails. I have granted you assistance. Now, let’s see how Lana would complete this challenge.”
Lewis barely had time to formulate any resemblance of a plan before the polar bear was racing toward him again. He turned and sprinted for the gap, ignoring the cold bite of the wind on his naked, hairless body. At the last possible second, he leapt into the air, the hand with the axe outstretched for the opposite end of the pit.
After a painful slam against the rockface, Lewis knew he had misjudged the distance again. Except, he wasn’t falling to his death. The sharp blade of the axe had dug in as designed, hooking into solid ice hanging from the ledge.
With a hint of a smile forming on his face, he pulled himself up and rolled to his back, panting hard. The frigid snow covered his nude form, but he didn’t care at the moment. The polar bear roared from the other side, displeased at the latest sequence of events. Lewis watched as it sniffed the air, staring at him with its beady, black eyes. Then, it turned and disappeared out of sight, lost in the gusts of snow.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Lewis muttered under his breath. “Go back to where you came from.”
The only path was forward, so Lewis pulled himself up, nursing a limp in his right leg. His body was sore all over from the impact. Lana was tough, but she wasn’t indestructible.
“Not bad,” the Voice complimented. “I am impressed. You used your instincts and the tools available to complete the challenge. The real Lana Craft would be proud of you. Maybe you are a survivor.”
“Now, why do I have the feeling that you aren’t finished with your little game?”
Ahead, there was another shape, standing in the snow. Lewis stopped immediately, fearing another polar bear. It wouldn’t have surprised him. At least this time he had a weapon of sorts. The ice axe was meant for climbing, but the edge of the blade was razor-sharp and deadly. He could put up a fight.
However, it wasn’t a polar bear, or any four-legged animal. As Lewis trudged forward, wincing in pain, he saw that it was another person, a woman wearing far more clothing than he was at the moment. He didn’t get a chance to see her face before she shot off out of sight, sprinting ahead with her ponytail bobbing back and forth.
“Hey! Hey, wait!”
Lewis raced after her as quick as he could, stumbling with the limp. A door appeared out of the haze, like the ones back at the Craft manor. He turned the knob and barged through, finding the familiar hallway from before. A swirl of snowflakes circled his legs as it closed behind him.
“Hello?” he called out. An echo returned shortly after.
“Seeing ghosts, Lewis?” the Voice asked.
“That isn’t one of your tricks? I saw another person, a … a woman.”
“A shadow, probably,” the Voice laughed. “You’re seeing things. I bet it’s a glitch.”
“I know what I saw with my own damn eyes!”
Then, Lewis saw her again in the hallway with doors, three down from where he was standing. Her attire had changed since the snow-covered hell of before, now black leather pants with a crimson tank top. Her hair was a fiery red, pulled back into a ponytail. She turned to look at him, her eyes almost glowing in the darkness.
Lewis gasped. “Lana?”
She disappeared into a door.
“Lana, wait!” He bolted after her, reaching the door before it closed.
The Voice howled with laughter. “You sure you want to be racing after her?”
“That was Lana! I saw her!”
“Like I said, a shadow.”
On the other side was another unexpected landscape, a humid jungle stretching as far as the eye could see. He stepped down from the doorway, his toes sinking into the soft soil. Sunlight breached the tightly-packed canopy in mesmerizing rays, like transparent curtains waving as the wind passed through the trees.
At least Lewis wasn’t freezing his ass off anymore! The humid jungle was quite tolerable compared to the snow, though it only took seconds before perspiration was dotting his naked skin.
“Lana!” he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Lana!”
“I wouldn’t be doing that.”
“Yeah, and since when have you ever helped me?”
“Five minutes ago. Doesn’t an ice axe ring a bell?”
Lewis ignored the Voice for now.
Dammit, where’d she go?
Compared to the snowy mountains of before, the jungle was an overload of green. Lewis stepped lightly, pushing through plants with the biggest leaves he had ever seen before. Fat vines hung overhead like ropes attached to the trees. Roots snaked out of the ground, firmly embedded in the soil and concealed below the dense vegetation. Lewis nearly tripped on one.
Creeping through a lingering haze in a wet lowland, Lewis spotted the mysterious woman again, her back facing him. Her attention was elsewhere, and, judging by the bow and arrow in her hands, she was out hunting.
“Lana?”
The woman turned. No longer was she hidden in the darkness. Lewis clearly saw that it was Lana Craft herself, or at least a recreation of her. Even out in the jungle, her bright red hair stood out. Otherwise she was identical in the body and face. Again, he was temporarily startled by how her eyes seemed to glow.
The woman put a finger to her lips, gesturing for him to be quiet.
“Who the hell is—”
Lewis heard the roar of an animal right before he crashed to the dirt. Large fangs perforated his face in an instant, blood weeping from each wound. He felt the skin and flesh being ripped apart, right as darkness spilled over his eyes, hiding the predator’s orange and white fur.
Lewis screamed out in pain, the last breaths leaving his blood-covered lips.
The Voice laughed in amusement.
Lana Craft stepped into the manor, scrubbing the bottoms of her boots on the welcome mat. She held her umbrella just outside the door, shaking the water off it. It was a torrential downpour outside, and her clothes were soaked all the way through. She tossed her coat on the nearest hanger, breathing a sigh of relief to be in someplace dry.
“Lewis, darling?” she called out. “You didn’t scurry off while I was away, did you?”
There was no answer.
Lana took one step, and then stopped. Tiny shards of glass cracked under her boot. She followed the trail to the front door, where one of the windows had been broken through. Someone had been inside the house, and there was no sign of Lewis.
But, Lana remained calm. She pulled a letter from her pocket, opening it in haste to read the words again. Her eyes scanned left to right. She had memorized the contents several times, but still refused to toss it away.
“Oh Mason,” she sighed. “You’ve really gone off your trolley now. I knew it. You just couldn’t resist, could you?”
Folding the letter carefully and stuffing it back into her pocket, Lana went back outside, retrieving her phone. Launching a specially-designed app, she swiped her finger across the screen, watching to the sky. Moments later, a miniature quadrotor helicopter appeared, descending down through the rain. A flash of lightning in the distance reflected off a small video camera attached to the underside.
She maneuvered it to her hands, turning off the blades right as she reached to grab it. The electronic motors went silent.
“Okay Mason,” she started, detaching the video equipment and heading back indoors, “let’s see where you’ve taken him. I can’t promise I
’ll be nice this time.”
“Is that a fucking tiger?”
“Shhh! Don’t you want to live through this?”
“And continue being a part of some pervert’s death simulator?”
“I heard that,” the Voice boomed. “And yes, I do get off to it. I like watching Lana Craft suffer in so many ways. Shame it isn’t the real her, but you do just fine.”
Up close, the resemblance was uncanny. She was identical to Ms. Craft, identical to him. They were the exact same height, their bodies alike in every detail imaginable. Lewis almost felt like he was looking into a mirror. The woman staring back was similar to the one from the master bedroom, except her hair was bright red, and she had some clothes on.
When she spoke, it sounded like an echo.
“Master won’t let you leave until he’s had his fun,” the doppelgänger explained.
“Master?”
“There goes the secrecy,” the Voice said, coming from the jungle around them. “Now you’ve erased all hope of Lewis ever leaving this … what did you call it? Oh yeah, a video game.”
No, it was more than that, Lewis knew now. It was a reconstruction of real life. Maybe it was all made up of polygons and running on his captor’s computer system, but the world around him was designed to mimic everything he knew, including the pain.
Each time Lana Craft died, he felt it, the life being ripped from his body through gaping wounds, broken bones, and smashed internal organs. It was a cruel, one-sided game. There certainly wasn’t any enjoyment on this end. Only his constant spectator took pleasure from his suffering, each time he missed a step, made a wrong choice, or wasn’t aware of his surroundings.
This fictional world was designed to kill him in new ways, each as gruesome as the one previous. A never-ending cycle of death.
Lewis heard the rustling of a bush nearby, and turned to see a pair of yellow eyes staring at him from the shade. His only instinct was to be as still as possible, but the tiger already had his scent. There was no running from it, not anymore.
When it leapt forward in a sudden strike, the doppelgänger went down to one knee, pulled back an arrow, and launched it at the creature’s heart. The giant cat fell limp to the dirt between the two of them, groaning in agony.
A Gender Swap Mega Bundle 6 Page 45