"This is pure nightmare fuel…"
Twitch, Yin's live stream.
After testing the DV camera's night vision, Yin switched it off fast. The grainy green static was too much.
"I'm begging for some light inside," he said, voice trembling. "This thing's a trauma machine."
Flashback: as a kid, Yin scored a pricey DV camera. "My parents wouldn't let me near it—too expensive," he told his viewers. "But kids, right? Tell me I can't touch something, and I'm all over it."
One night, he snuck it out while his folks slept. "I was clueless, just fiddling, and flipped on night vision—same as this. Roamed the house, ended up at my parents' door. Total darkness. Raised the camera, and boom—my dad's standing there, staring. His face was this sickly green, eyes like light bulbs. I almost passed out. Nightmares for a week, fever of 102. Swear it's true."
Chat went wild.
"Hoping for a rerun of that scene!"
"No way Yin's dad pops up in there!"
"Haha, filial piety maxed out!"
"Yin's done for. Gus built this to break you."
"Gus knew night vision makes people look like corpses."
"This guy's evil. Where's he getting these ideas?"
"Gus probably chills in haunted asylums for kicks."
Yin pushed the jeep door open, facing the shadowy Giant Mountain Asylum in Colorado. An empty security booth sat by the gate. The night wind rustled bushes, but nothing moved—not even a ghost. Yet Yin felt watched.
He snagged a battery from the booth, pocketing it. The main gate was locked tight, but a side door wasn't. It creaked open with a rusty screech, the Phoenix Engine's detail so vivid he could practically feel the rust. "Anyone even here?" he muttered.
The Gothic asylum loomed like a beast in the dark, its windows like unblinking eyes. Yin raised his DV to capture it, then froze. A light glowed from a third-floor window—the only one lit in the dead building. Curiosity pulled him in. He zoomed.
His heart stopped. A figure stood at the window, staring back.
"Holy—!" Yin yelped, jumping. Creepy was an understatement.
Zoey Parker, watching from her Seattle office, shivered. She slid closer to Gus Harper, the "horror king" sprawled beside her. Outlast's vibe was unreal. Sneaking around was scary enough, but realizing you're the one being watched? That hit different. Like some old philosopher said: stare into the abyss, and it stares back.
The figure slipped away, the light fading. Chat erupted.
"Don't do us like this!"
"Who's walking in there now?"
"I'm out! Hid in the booth for ten minutes, then bailed to watch Yin!"
"Smart call, lol."
"Outlast (X) Security Sim (√)"
"Gus is like, 'Someone's in there, good luck!'"
"Yin's sweating buckets!"
"I'm sweating a little," Yin admitted, "but it's not that bad…"
Meanwhile, on Twitch's Cody Black channel, Cody Black took a deep breath. That window stare shook him, but he'd survived P.T.'s terrors. "Compared to Lisa's lights-out jumpscare, this is softer," he said. "Gus eased up. P.T. was brutal—barely anyone cleared it day one. Outlast's a full game, so they can't tank sales with that level of scare."
The main gate was sealed, so Cody Black slipped through a fence gap to the backyard, climbing scaffolding to an open window. "Let's do this," he said, pulling himself into Giant Mountain Asylum.
Total darkness. The DV's night vision threw a sickly green glow, the viewfinder's noise and tight field making it hellish. The room was wrecked—filing cabinet toppled, papers scattered, a desk lamp smashed. A sofa lurked in the blur, with a door crack leaking faint light.
"Light, thank god," Cody Black muttered. Light meant safety. He crept forward, the ancient floor creaking.
As he neared the sofa, his DV swung—and a wrinkled, corpse-like face filled the screen. Fear gripped him. He froze, voiceless. He'd thought the room was empty, but a patient sat right there, on the sofa's edge.
In night vision, the patient's eyes blazed like bulbs. Cody Black's hair stood up—like glimpsing someone in the mirror mid-shower, uninvited.
Then, crackle—a wall-mounted TV sparked on, spitting snow and screeching static. The patient lunged, fist flying. Cody Black's vision flashed red, a scream tearing through his stream: "Oh my god!"
He bolted, dodging the patient, crashing through the lit door, and locking it behind him. The corridor outside was a mess—blood-smeared walls, toppled cabinets, scattered files. A riot had ripped through here, fresh or old, hiding dark secrets.
No time to think. The door clicked. The patient burst out, fists swinging, muttering then roaring: "Sorry—kill you! Kill you!" Cody Black's pulse raced. He recognized the voice—the guy who killed Lisa in Silent Hill, locked up here after the cops grabbed him.
The dark humor hit hard—Silent Hill's killer chasing him now? Crazy. Cody Black sprinted down the corridor, slamming through an ajar door into a bathroom. Blood coated the tiles, a vent cover lay broken near the ceiling, debris piled like someone fled in a panic.
Footsteps closed in, roars echoing. Cody Black leaped onto the debris, grabbing the vent's edge. He scrambled inside just as the patient burst in, cursing and circling. Finding nothing, the lunatic left.
Cody Black collapsed in the vent, gasping. "Holy—!"
Chat went insane.
"Wild!"
"Now I get why it's Outlast! Straight-up escape!"
"Gus put the rules in the name, obvious!"
"This game's a heart attack!"
"Cures low blood pressure, causes high!"
"That face in the viewfinder nearly ended me!"
"It's 8:15 Pacific time, and every light's on like it's New Year's."
"I'm under a blanket, terror resistance +99."
"Turned over, found Lisa next to me (lol)."
"Lisa's husband's in the asylum, Lisa's in your bed—small world!"
"Y'all are cruel. I live alone!"
"Gus's horror is contagious. We're all unhinged!"
Outlast's global launch hit like a tsunami.