Waylon Park 1

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

     A creaking floorboard awakes me from my slumber.  I’m a light sleeper these days, every bump in the night puts me on edge.  I sit up, rubbing my eyes.  I know that it is likely nothing, but I have to get up and check, to put my mind at ease.  Lisa and I sent the kids off, have them staying with a friend.  That was probably the best idea, since I decided to draw attention to myself.  I know that I did the right thing.  I know Lisa doesn’t resent me for it.  But I hate it all the same.

     I stand up, the hardwood floor of my bedroom cold on the bottoms of my feet.  I walk to the bedroom door, grip the knob.  I hate this part the most: not knowing what is on the other side of the door.  My mind jumps to a set of locked double doors at Mount Massive.  A window set in them, the silhouette of a man-

I shake my head, willing those thoughts away, putting myself back in the present.  I twist the knob, yank the door open to see what I already knew would be there: an empty and dark hallway.

     “Darling!”  A familiar voice suddenly shouts from the darkness and Eddie Gluskin emerges from the shadows, maniacal smile and all.  From down the hall in the living room, I hear a song begin to play, an old recording, with scratches audible over the music.

“When I was a boy my mother often said to me-” the singer begins to recite the song I know all too well.

     “No!  You’re dead!”  I yell at Eddie as he starts down the hall towards me, his smile widening, the flesh rotting off the right side of his face.

     “We’re not dead, Park,” Jeremy Blaire’s voice says from right next to me and suddenly I am smacked in the side of the head with a blunt object, causing me to let out a cry and fall against the wall; I somehow manage to remain standing.  Blaire lunges at me, pressing the baton in his head against my throat with my back up against the wall; I have nowhere to run.  I begin to choke, gasping for air, pain shooting through my neck; of course the a*****e has that baton pressed right up against my bruise from when Eddie tried to string me up.

     “But no girlie can I find who seems just like the little girl I have in mind-”

     Eddie appears around the doorway, flanked by two of my former supervisors: Andrew and Steve.  Blaire slides me up the wall so that my feet are no longer on the floor, dangling underneath me.  I start to kick frantically, pulling at his wrists and the baton holding me up in the air, preventing me from breathing.  I start to see red as I look back down at the ghosts of my past.

     “You’re dead,” I try to choke out; I am sure they know what I am trying to say.  I direct my eyes at Eddie, “I was there.”

     “W***e!”  He yells, “We could have been beautiful.  But you betrayed me.”  He rests his hand on Blaire’s shoulder, pointing at me with his other.

     “Did somebody hit you?”  Andrew asks, licking his lips, looking at me hungrily.

     “Speak up Mr. Park,” Steve says in that condescending tone I hated so much.

     “F*****g die already!”  Blaire yells at me, applying more force to the baton; I swear my windpipe is going to collapse at any moment under the pressure.

     “I want a girl, just like the girl that married dear old dad-”

     “You can hang there like the rest of them,” Eddie’s smile shrinks, “and die.”

     “You’re dead,” I mouth the words, no sound escaping my lips as my eyelids grow heavy.

     “We’re not dead, Park,” Blaire repeats, “we’re still alive inside your head.”

     “A good old-fashioned girl with heart so true-”

     Everything begins to go black when Eddie speaks again, but this time his voice is higher.  “Darling.  Darling?”

     Someone is shaking me, I struggle to open my eyes, the pain in my throat is gone, I am lying down.  “Darling?”  I can now tell it’s Lisa’s voice and in spite of myself, I cringe at the pet name.

     “I told you not to call me that,” I am surprised by how dry my mouth is, my voice coming out as a barely audible hoarse whisper.

     “I’m sorry, darl-” she catches herself, “-I’m sorry, Waylon.  It’s what I’ve always called you.”  She runs her hand through her long blonde hair.

     “I know… and I’m sorry.  Some things… are just hard to get past.”  I try to push Eddie’s face from my thoughts, but it seems to be burned there, refusing to disappear.  “Could you get me some water, baby?”

     “Sure.”  Lisa exits the room and I sit up, feeling sorry for myself.  I stretch out my leg, wince.  The doctors claimed it would fully recover; I wonder how long that will take.  Lisa returns with the water and I gulp it down.

     “Thanks,” I say gratefully, smiling at her as she sits next to me on the bed.  She smiles back at me, but it seems forced.  I lean in for a kiss, and she hesitantly returns the gesture.  “I love you,” I say when our lips part.

     “I know, Waylon.  I love you too.”

     I sigh, fighting back tears.  Poor Lisa; she never asked for any of this.  I know that if I had died at Mount Massive, she would have given them Hell in my stead.  But I hate that I am the one who put us in this position.  “Why’d you wake me?”

     “You were restless again.  Crying out and making awful grunting noises.  For a moment there I thought you were choking or something.”  She had no idea how right she was.  “Are… are you sure you’re up to the panel meeting Friday?”

     “Yes.  I have to be.”  I try to keep my tone stern, to prove that I am putting my foot down, but I should know I don’t have to.  Good ol’ Lisa, the only thing that I think got me out of Mount Massive alive was knowing I had her unwavering support.  I set my glass on the bedside table, wrapping my arms around her and laying her back down on the bed so that I am on top of her, kissing her jaw.

     She moves her face so that our lips meet and I feel her tongue inside my mouth and wrap mine around hers.  I reach for the string of her robe, but she pulls back from me, looking seriously into my eyes.  “Waylon �" when are you going to tell me why it bothers you so much when I call you ‘darling’ now?”  There it is, the kicker.  There is still so much that Lisa �" that no one, not even Julian �" knows about my time at Mount Massive.

     “Some other time,” I say guiltily, continuing to undo her robe and exposing her bare breasts and abdomen.  For now, I just thank my lucky stars that my member remains fully intact.

     “Whenever you’re ready,” she says, running her fingers through my hair and kissing me.  I smile in spite of myself.  Sweet and understanding Lisa �" fiery when she needs to be, but always understanding.  She is beautiful.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     I run my hand over my hair, trying to make it lay flat.  It continues to stick up of course.  That’s why I liked being a software guy; I never had to deal with the general public, so it didn’t matter what I looked like.  Now here I am, the center of attention on a panel regarding one of the country’s largest corporations, and I am on the opposing team.  I adjust my suit jacket and straighten my tie.  It is almost my time.

     “Mr. Waylon Park,” the announcer calls me up to the front of the courtroom and I walk to my seat and avoid looking at the crowd.  I will be looking at the crowd the whole time I am sitting there, the center of attention.  I sit down, pulling my chair up so that I am not sitting too far back from the table.  I look out over the spectators for the first time, and I suddenly feel sick to my stomach.  I wish Lisa could be here, but we decided that it would be best for her to stay away, for her own safety.

     I hear a buzz deep inside my head.  I recognize it, but try to ignore it.  I tell myself that it’s just my nerves.  But it gets louder, and as I look back over the crowd in front of me my vision becomes blurred, obscured by a large Rorschach-like image.  Oh God no, it’s here…

     I search the faces of those in front of me with my eyes, trying to be subtle.  My head feels like it’s going to explode.  Wait!  There he is, I can- he’s gone.  I saw him, for a brief moment, but he vanished.  I tell myself that it was just another ghost.  But the buzzing inside my skull tells me differently.

     “Mr. Park,” Steve’s voice says and I nearly fall out of my chair.  “Mr. Park?”  No, I was mistaken, it is just the MC.  Maybe it was just my imagination.  But I haven’t had a waking hallucination that vivid before…

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.