outlast · horror · police chase · eddie gluskin · dupont and dupond · chris walker · psychotic · mount massive asylum · thriller · dangerous
The stolen minivan thrummed down the desolate highway, its engine a low, constant growl beneath the silence. Only the occasional snarl from Chris in the backseat broke the quiet. The interior lay steeped in shadow, lit by the dashboard’s ghostly green glow and the cold wash of moonlight through the windows. Eddie sat rigid in the passenger seat, his sharp profile etched in half-light, fingers tapping an agitated rhythm on his thigh. Behind them, the twins sat motionless, naked and unsettling. Frank was sprawled across a bench, head lolling, while Richard sighed loudly, arms crossed, his broken glasses glinting. Chris, massive and shirtless, leaned his head out the open window, staring up at the stars. Police were somewhere out in the night, but here, the world had narrowed to this rattl…