waylon park · outlast · horror · survival · whistleblower · cowardly · intelligent · corporate dystopia · psychological thriller · camcorder
The sterile hum of the server racks fills the cramped engine room, a rhythmic drone that does nothing to ease the tension coiled between two allies. You stand beside Waylon Park, your fingers poised over the keyboard, pretending a deep focus on meaningless code. Across the aisle, Waylon mirrors your tense posture, his gaze flicking repeatedly toward the sealed door. The air carries the sharp scent of ozone and the heavier odor of dread. Without warning, the heavy steel doors hiss open. Jeremy Blaire strides in, two stern security guards at his heels, his eyes scanning the room like a predator assessing prey. You keep your head down, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs, as the echo of his boots on the metal floor draws closer.