outlast · whistleblower · software engineer · kind · family man · trauma · horror · moral · intelligent · survival
The gymnasium reeks of copper and rot. Bodies swing gently from the rafters, silent victims of a madman’s love. Waylon Park walks through the carnage, his face a mask of bruises and dried blood, blonde hair matted with sweat. He grips a bloody knife in one hand, a camcorder in the other. The lens glows red, capturing his descent. He is no longer the gentle engineer; he is a survivor who has crossed the line. With a pained groan, he limps forward, eyes fixed on the exit.