Waylon Park 5

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

     Miles slides down the glass and I lose sight of him.  I can no longer hear him coughing, but I can hear the Walrider, shrieking in �" is that, fear?  The Swarm begins to vanish from my sight; the cries die down into a painful silence accompanied by only the hiss of the gas jets and the beating of my heart.

I wait a few minutes longer before hitting the green button again.  The jets stop spraying gas and the doors open.  I wait for the fog to clear, beads of sweating covering my forehead.  I walk out into the hall and slowly peer into the chamber.  My shirt lies on the floor, dropped when the doors opened.  I spot Miles’ slumped figure lying against the wall, completely motionless.  His eyes are open �" and blue, I might add �" staring off at the far wall, a line of thick drool running out the side of his mouth into a puddle underneath his jaw.  There is no buzzing in my skull, no Rorschach obscuring my vision.  Just silence.

“I’m sorry,” I bend down to pick up my shirt.  I walk past his corpse, slipping my shirt back on over my head.  I am in no hurry now, my leg still aching from all the effort I put into running.

I can see the stairs.  All I have to do is get out to the SUV, and then, I will finally be done with Mount Massive for good.  Sure, I will have Murkoff to deal with, but they are nothing compared to the Walrider.

“Feed me!”  Frank screams from behind me, leaping on my back and wrapping his arms around me.  I nearly fall over, but manage to stay standing as his saw whirs to life.  He brings it down to my midsection.  I grab his arm as he tries to dig it into my stomach.  I’m not strong enough, the blade is getting dangerously close.  I elbow him hard in the gut and he cries out, loosening his grip just enough for me to pull away from him.

I turn to face him, still grasping his wrist, and twist until he releases the saw.  It clatters to the floor.  We both dive for it.  I feel my hand close around the metal handle and stand, holding it out in front of me.  Frank begins to laugh, a hideous throaty sound.  I press the button, revving the saw and swinging it at him.  He takes a few steps back, but continues to laugh.  I wish I knew just what in the Hell he thinks is so funny.  I keep swinging.  Yes, we are nearly to the stairs.  If I can just keep him at bay a little longer, I can make it to the stairs.

He stops laughing.  He lunges at me and I swing the saw.  I feel it come in contact with something, hear him start howling like a wild animal.  I look to see blood shooting out of his upper arm.  He is clutching it, looking confused, howling louder and louder.  I see the empty elevator gate behind him.  I see my chance.  God, Lisa, forgive me.  I lunge forward and shove him.  He falls backwards, thrashing his arms and legs, wailing the whole way down until I hear the sickening thud as he hits the roof of the elevator.

I drop the saw and limp over to the doorway.  I look down.  His arms and legs are bent in impossible directions, blood spreading out around him.  He is silent.

“And good riddance,” I say, turning and walking down the stairs.  I limp through the foyer, past the twins, and out to my SUV.  I steal a glance at the red Jeep before climbing into my own car.  I look up at Mount Massive.  I lift my hand, and flip the building the bird.  I take another moment to catch my breath.  Then I put my key in the ignition, start the car, and speed away from that accursed place without a second thought.

 

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     I sit on the park bench, the sun shining through the leaves in the trees, birds singing.  It is a beautiful day.  I lean forward, gazing out over the cemetery.  Lisa was buried just a few days ago; Julian arranged for a very private burial.  Hell, even I don’t know where the plot is, and there’s no way to look for it since the stone isn’t up yet.

     I see a movement out the corner of my eye.  I turn my head and see a bald man in a suit headed over to where I sit.  I look down at the bouquet of white and yellow tulips in my hand.  I turn back to the man and wave.  He waves back.  When he gets close enough, I stand to hug him.

     “Thank you for coming, Julian.”

     “Anytime,” he replies.  “Honestly, I was surprised when I got your call.  I was sure I’d be burying you next.”

     I harrumph, a half-smile forming on my lips.  “Yeah.”

     His tone grows more serious.  “H-how did you get out of Mount Massive alive a second time?  Going up against that… thing?  The Walrider.”

     I think about my answer for a moment.  “Honestly, a lot of dumb luck.  Sometimes, when the ghosts of your past push you over the edge… you can accomplish incredible things.”  He nods.  We stand there in silence.  “Mind if we go to the grave now?”

     “Not at all.  This way.”  Julian leads me between the headstones, some shiny and new, others ancient and eroding.  We finally reach a recently covered grave near a large elm tree.  A few tiny strands of grass are starting to poke up through the soil.

     I kneel over the raised earth, the flowers gripped tightly in my hand.  “I did it, baby.  I stopped the Walrider.”  I feel tears welling up in my eyes and my voice catches in my throat.  “I… I’m sorry I wasn’t more honest with you; kept things from you.  I thought we had more time,” I feel the first tear fall down my cheek, “I love you.  I always will.  And I miss you.”  I start to sob and have to take a moment to collect myself.  I feel Julian put his hand on my shoulder.  He squeezes, then let’s go.  I sniff, then decide to finish what I have to say.  “You always believed in me, even when I doubted everything, especially myself… thank you.  I could never have done anything - any of this - without you.”  I squint my eyes closed, taking a deep breath.  “Good-bye.”  I lay the flowers down on top of the grave and wipe my eyes on my shirt sleeve.  I stand up, brushing grass trimmings off the knees of my pants.

“You know they’re moving forward with the case against Murkoff.  This is just beginning,” Julian says.

“Yes.  And I ready for anything they throw at us.  I am not afraid anymore.”~

Author's Note

The conclusion of 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.

Julian is also known as Simon Peacock.