Outlast

Let The Terror Begin!

Freelance reporter Miles Upshur calmly tapped his fingers on the steering wheel of his 1997 Jeep Wrangler TJ, feeling an eagerness blossom within his chest. He knew that there was something going on at Mount Massive Asylum that could potentially be the story of a lifetime. A story that he sure as hell wasn't going to pass up. The gravel crunched under the wheels as he drove closer to the imposing gates of the asylum, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

"...department of Agriculture Commissioner Salazar said changing weather patterns were to blame for livestock behavior and encouraged ranchers and breeders to attend this weekend's seminar on Beula Avenue in Pablo," the radio blared, and Miles rolled his eyes.

"And if you're out late tonight, you may see some low-flying helicopters near Silverthorne and Leadville. Seems the Arapaho Park services will be spraying for an infestation of box elder bugs," the radio continued before cutting off to static. So there's no signal roughly a mile out. Hm. Interesting, Miles thought he drove through the open front gate and parked his car. Miles grabbed the printed out copy of the email that a whistleblower had sent him, and read it.

You don't know me. Have to make this quick. They might be monitoring. I did 2 weeks of software consult at MURKOFF Psychiatric Systems' facilities in Mount Massive. All sorts of NDA's I am very much breaking right now, but seriously, fuck those guys. Terrible things happening here. Don't understand it. Don't believe half the things I saw. Doctors talking about dream therepy going too deep, finding something that had been waiting for them in the mountain. People are being hurt, and Murkoff making money. It needs to be exposed.

Miles put the email back down on the passenger seat, grabbed a couple of batteries, then his camcorder, and loaded the batteries into the camcorder. Miles opened the camcorder, and raised it to his face, checking all its functions, making sure it worked. Satisfied, Miles dropped his camcorder, and exited his Jeep just as lightning flashed across the sky at a distance. Miles pursed his lips, flinching in surprise, when he heard a rattling sound. Miles turned around, frowning when he saw the gates close by themselves.

"What the hell?" Miles breathed before turning back to the Asylum and walking towards it, his camcorder up and recording as he approached the eerie building. The gates closing on their own only added to the sense of foreboding that surrounded the abandoned Asylum, sending a chill down Miles' spine.

I start feeling sick just looking at this place. Mount Massive Asylum, shut down amid scandal and government secrecy in 1971, was reopened by Murkoff Psychiatric Systems in 2009 under the guise of a charitable organization. Cell phone reception cut off abruptly a mile out, more like a jammer than a lost signal. The Murkoff Corporation has a long track record of disguising profit as charity. But never on American soil. Whatever they thought they could get out of this place has to be big. Might finally be the story that breaks the bastards, Miles thought as he looked aroundcautiously, and he put his camcorder down. He trudged toward the front door, stopping when he noticed the large military vehicles parked there, making him instantly suspicious.

"Are these army vehicles? Really? What happened here?" Miles asked aloud before something else occurred to him.

"Why is there nobody nearby? And why am I just waltzing in? You'd think there'd be some sort of security. Oh, wait! Demonic horrific infestation," Miles muttered sarcastically as he tried the door, which was locked.