Miles Upshur 5

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

     I am surrounded by green gas, my lungs contracting and making it harder and harder to breathe.  I see Waylon through the glass.  He is watching in horror; he probably wants to make sure that I die.  I don’t blame him.

     The Walrider has separated from me and is flying around the chamber, trying to find a way out, screeching all the while.  But there is no way out.  I know that, and I can sense that he knows that as well.  His cries grow more frantic, like a cornered pig; more of a squeal than a screech.  I feel thick drool dripping out of my mouth, my head feels like it is going to explode.  I slide down the glass window to a slumped heap on the floor.  This is it.  Finally, I will be free.  The Walrider’s cries grow fainter and fainter.  I can no longer hear them at all.  I cannot hear him anymore.  He is gone.  My lungs burn, my eyes burn, my head aches.  Everything is fading into blackness: my sight, my hearing, my mind…

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.