Waylon Park 4

My Outlast (and Outlast: Whistleblower) fan-fiction. I wrote it before playing Outlast 2. I want to share it with other Outlast fans.

     I run down the hall, stealing a glance over my shoulder.  I cannot see Miles, or the Walrider, but I can sense that they are not far behind.  My mind is reeling, I am trying to think of what to do.  I was acting on impulse, in grief over Lisa.  I should have thought of a plan.

     “Stupid, Mr. Park.  More than stupid, in fact, that was crazy,” Jeremy’s voice says inside my head.  I do my best to ignore him.  I can hear Miles’ footsteps echoing down the hall behind me now, I need to get to a hiding spot or to the elevator.  S**t, hiding would be useless, the Walrider can sense me, same as I can sense it.

     I stumble, almost trip.  Pain shoots up my right calf.  No!  No!  This is not the time for my leg to act up on me.  I keep running; I can see the elevator.

“Quickly, Mr. Park,” Steve’s voice taunts me.

Wait �" that’s it!  When I was running from the Walrider before, it could not pass through the airlock chambers.  If I can just get up to the second floor, there is an airlock in the prison block.  If I could somehow lure Miles inside, I could trap him �" at least for the time being �" and then I would have more time to figure out what to do next.

I reach the elevator, the Rorschach already blurring my vision.  I will not have time to get the elevator going up before the Walrider could get inside with me.  Then it’d be game over.  I climb inside, looking around.  There!  A trap door in the ceiling, an emergency escape.  I jump up, grasping the handle and yanking it open.  I take a deep breath, bending my knees and jump a second time, grabbing ahold of the edge of the doorway.  It takes everything I’ve got not to scream �" the pain in my leg is unbearable.  I can hear Miles approaching.  I desperately pull myself up; if I cannot get the door in place before he reaches the elevator, then I am done for.  I pull the door up and latch it, sitting down on the elevator roof and clamping my hand over my mouth and nose to silence my heavy breathing.

Miles enters the elevator and I can see him through the small crack around the edge of the door.  He spins around, looking around the small space of the elevator.

“Darling, you can’t hide from me,” Eddie coos.  I fight the urge to respond.

He looks around again.  Then he hits a button and the elevator hums to life.  As it begins its ascent, I look up and can see the distant rectangle of light that it the first floor elevator gate.  I stand shakily on top of the moving elevator.  I need to jump off before Miles can exit the elevator.

The doorway draws nearer and I jump for it, landing hard on my shoulder.  I let out a cry in spite of myself.  The Walrider hisses loudly and I stand up, my leg screams at me to stop, but I have to keep going if I want even a small chance of getting out of here alive.  I run up the stairs toward the second floor, I just have to reach the second floor and it’s practically a straight shot from there.

I hear the elevator door be thrown open and I do my best to quicken my pace.  I finally reach the second floor landing and start down the hall toward the prison block.  I pass a sign for the showers, I know I am not far.  I hope to God that the airlock gate is still functioning, that it has not been broken since I last saw it.  Miles is gaining on me, I can practically feel his breath on the back of my neck.

I see a black panel next to an open door with a glowing green lock in its center.  Yes!  I am nearly home free.  I take a sharp left, bolting through the chamber doors.  The first set of doors shuts behind me, but I can hear the clanging of Miles’ shoes on the metal floor as well as mine.  The doors ahead of me start to close.  I leap through the air, hitting my elbow on the quickly closing door.  I land outside the chamber, but am pulled back.  D****t!  The doors caught my shirt.  I quickly wrestle my way out of the shirt and leave it hanging there.

I can hear Miles pounding on the doors, hear him screaming, “No!  Let me out!”  I hear the gas jets come on.  I run around to the security room just to the side of the chamber.  There is a control panel and large window inside.  Through the window I can see Miles, immersed in green gas, coughing into the bend of his elbow.  He notices me and presses his hand flat against the glass, his eyes watering as he struggles to open them and look at me.  A black cloud seems to surround him.  Even his eyes are black.

“Keep it on!  Kill him!  Kill him before-” he breaks into a coughing fit, “-I’m completely gone!”

I look at the control panel in front of me.  A large green button framed by yellow and black stripes �" indicating a hazard �" labeled ‘Gas’ stands out to me.  I can hear the Walrider, screaming and hissing, see it swirling around Miles.

“But… you’ll die,” I yell through the glass.  I think back to my time at Mount Massive, I watched man suffocate to death in an airlock just like this one.  A painful way to go, to say the least.

Miles manages a small smile.  “I know,” he chuckles in exasperation.

I stare at him in disbelief.  “You surprise me Miles.  And to think you said you weren’t noble.”

Miles continues to smile, but sadness creeps into his eyes, “Why do you think I took the story?”  He breaks into another coughing fit.  “Hurry!  If you don’t push that button, these doors are going to open and then you’re fucked.  He does things to your mind, turns you into a different person.  Let me die while I-” he coughs, “-while I still have some of my humanity left.”

I know he is right.  I fight back tears; after all, I am the one who led him here.  And now he has to die.  Another victim of Murkoff, the very thing I was trying to prevent.

“Well Mr. Park?” Steve’s voice says impatiently.

I grit my teeth and slam my fist down on the button.

Author's Note

My Outlast (and Outlast: Whistleblower) fan-fiction. I wrote it before playing Outlast 2. I want to share it with other Outlast fans. That being said, if you have not played the games or do not have an extensive knowledge of them, the story will likely not make sense, seeing as I literally picked up my story where they left off.