Dr. Doctor (An Outlast Fanfic)

One

Med classes were always fun. Ever since the sixth grade, Waylon just knew he wanted to do something in the medical field. It started off as neurosurgeon, then cardiovascular surgeon, then pediatric surgeon, then medical examiner... Pretty much, every class he took in health sciences made him realize that a lot of college was needed, and now he just wishes to be a nurse.

Waylon excelled in school. He loved anything to do with computers, so BioMed was a piece of cake. LoggerPro was his best friend, and his instructor always complimented his work at running labs. Maybe he could be a lab tech? No, not enough pay, but still interesting. Nursing was on his mind, but he did enjoy hearing about all the other careers available to him.

"Yet another excellent run, Mr. Park. I don't know how you manage." It wasn't too difficult to run a urinalysis,  but sometimes the test strips got contaminated and made the data incorrect.

"No problem, maybe its because the school actually decided to give you unexpired resources." It's usually not a surprise when an experiment goes wrong and the data doesn't match with the actual. However, funding from a local hospital has allowed the students and instructors more current tools to use.

"You can thank Murkoff for that. They seem really interested in helping med students. Then again I hear that they need all the help they can get. Maybe it's a trade deal," Mr. King chuckles. He was the instructor of the Nursing Program at the center, and was also Waylon's Biomedical teacher for two years. He was a kind man, and had a husband who was a rocket scientist. Class was always fun when he'd go off on tangents about not being allowed to have social media.

There were several students in the class, and many already had internships. Some had gotten them from other classes and continued them for years. It wasn't a requirement before, but since the class was so high up, it was a real crucial part of it now. Waylon had applied everywhere it seemed, but hospitals didn't like to hire people from the same class. He'd send emails everyday, and either get no response or receive a denial online. Murkoff and St. Something were the last places he applied for, and he was getting tired of checking his email in class every ten minutes.

Free time was something most students missed out on, but Way almost always had time to nap or make computer programs. There was another half hour of class, and he had plenty of coffee that morning, so going on his laptop seemed like a reasonable thing to do.

Inbox, three new emails. St. Wallrider, Application Denial. Mr. King, Work graded. Murkoff Health, Interview Information.

Holy shit, he got a good email for once.

Completely ignoring his skills test grade, he goes straight for the last one, seeing that it was sent only a few minutes ago.

Waylon Park,

We are happy to inform you that your information and skills meet all our prerequisites and requirements. If you wish to continue the registration process, please send us a time good for you to come in for an interview, as well as your availability for the week. Enter through the ER entrance and bring the required papers your instructor gave you.

-Jeremy Blaire
Murkoff Inc.

The email was short, but it took Waylon a good ten minutes to read and process it. He had to keep refreshing to make sure it wasn't some sort of mistake or hallucination. Did he really get accepted? What should he wear? Did he remember to put all his experience? He never worked at a hospital, just a geriatric home. When was he available? All days? Not on Wednesday? Or was it Friday? Who knows, his poor brain couldn't even process that his computer screen was dimming from inactivity. All he could do was sit and stair, and drool a little on the black, fireproof table top beneath him.