Bang!
The door slammed hard, a screeching violin kicking in like an alarm!
Zoey Parker knew that sound meant one thing—she was being hunted!
The air turned heavy, the door's violent banging pounding her chest like a sledgehammer, sending her into a panic!
"Oh crap, oh crap… No, no, no, no, no…"
What now?
As the door shuddered, about to give way, Zoey spotted an iron crate by the back exit!
She lunged, slamming her shoulder into it, pushing with everything she had!
Behind her, the door quaked under the relentless assault of two hulking psychos!
Bang!
[We're gonna kill you!]
Bang!
[I'll chop your head off and shove it in your gut!]
Bang! Bang! Bang!!!
Adrenaline surged, making Zoey's head spin.
"I get it! I get it! Stop smashing, you lunatics!!!"
Rumble—!!!
The crate slid open just as—
The door exploded inward, two psychos charging with machetes raised!
Zoey's scalp tingled as she saw them rushing her. She bolted!
Screams and curses filled the corridor behind her!
Her heart pounded like a revved engine, blood pumping as she vaulted a long table, barely shaking the two psychos on her tail.
But as she landed—
Clang!
The door to her right burst open!
Another armed lunatic charged out, lunging at her!
Zoey screamed, veering left without thinking!
She shoved through a front door, then a back one, landing in another corridor!
The glass door at the end shattered instantly!
A mace-wielding psycho stormed through the broken glass, barreling toward her!
Boom boom boom! Boom boom boom!
The violin swelled into a frantic symphony, like death's shadow closing in!
Run! Keep running!
"No, no, no! Stop chasing me! Big guy, I'm sorry! I messed up, okay?!?!"
"What the hell! Why's every psycho in this hospital after me?!"
"Gus Harper! You designed this messed-up map?!"
"Quit chasing me! AHH—!!!"
With a shriek—
Zoey, scrambling over a corridor door, felt a gust whip past her ears!
She ducked just in time!
Whoosh!
A machete grazed her scalp! The icy breeze sent chills down her spine!
Quick on her feet—
Zoey danced around a table with the psycho, hopped onto it, and scrambled up to a vent!
Now she got it—why streamers never got lost!
That jerk Gus Harper used jump scares to steer players down the right escape path!
In Outlast, the map wasn't just a pile of static obstacles.
Gus's scare traps made it feel alive, like a pulsing, bloody maze guiding players to safety.
But man, what a brutal way to guide!
Zoey wailed, dodging one psycho after another!
Gus cackled, sipping iced Coke with his left hand, munching popcorn with his right!
Two voices clashed in the apartment.
One frantic, one chill—
"How do I run? How do I run? Gus, tell me how to run!!!"
"Use your legs—left or right, up or down, figure it out—"
"What kinda help is that?! You call that coaching?!"
"Don't blame me—your camera's spinning like a damn fidget spinner, how am I supposed to say left or right—"
"Gus Harper, you jerk! You're the worst!!! I'm never trusting you again… Oh crap!!!"
Buzz—!!!
Another blade flashed, cutting off her rant!
Zoey had no choice—keep running!
But—
As she shoved through the next door—
The path ahead was blocked!
The corridor's floor had collapsed, leaving a gaping, bottomless pit!
"Dead end?!"
Zoey's brain short-circuited!
No time to think!
No time to stop!
She leaped!
Whoosh—!!!
Her nimble shadow arced through the air.
Bang!
Zoey grabbed the edge, slamming into the broken floor!
"Ow—damn—!"
The impact churned her stomach, nearly making her puke.
She clawed her way up, footsteps and shouts closing in from all sides.
[Walrider! Walrider!]
Kill you! I'm gonna kill you!
Gimme meat! Meat! MEAT! I NEED MEAT!
Panic flooded her mind, adrenaline spiking. Zoey ran like she had a GPS wired into her brain.
She shoved open the only lit door at the corridor's end and stumbled inside!
Next second—
A radio crackled to life:
[Kid, I know you're not one of 'em—get up here, quick!]
Zoey looked—
A food elevator sat in the room's corner!
Oh, thank God!!!
Hearing a normal voice?
Zoey could've cried!
She wasn't the only sane person in this hellhole!
"Coming! Coming! COMING!!!"
No hesitation!
Zoey staggered to the elevator, yanked open the metal grate, and dove in!
Glancing back—
Four or five psychos stormed into the room!
"AHHHHH—"
Clang!!!
A machete slammed the grate—Zoey barely escaped!
"Ugh—!!!"
Her bones felt like jelly!
The sheer terror and tension left her dizzy, fingertips trembling!
Horrifying! Intense! Heart-pounding!
This chase was unreal, spiking her blood pressure!
But finally—
She was safe!
"This… this is nothing…" Zoey stammered, stubborn as ever.
"Just… whew… a little chase… you think I'm scared…"
"I've got a teammate now… safer with backup…"
Before she could finish—
Creak—
The elevator stopped.
An old man stood at the exit.
Scars crisscrossed his body.
Skeletal, ribs poking through skin.
Bald, with a cleft lip, sporting old-school research glasses.
His hands, pants, arms—drenched in blood.
Like he'd just performed surgery.
Or slaughtered a pig.
Congrats, kid, you made the right choice.
Buzz!!!
The old man's fist swung!
Zoey's scream echoed through the apartment!
"AHHH—"
[Ding! Blood pressure, heart rate, breathing, and adrenaline levels critical… Auto-disconnected from sensory link!]
…
"It's a trap!!! Damn it!!! A TRAP!!!"
Jada Brook's voice boomed through her stream!
Lightning strike twist!
She thought she'd escaped—only to jump from the frying pan into the fire!
"I just got out! And you hit me with a sucker punch?! Are you even human—!!!"
Before she could finish—
Buzz—BANG!!!
Another punch!
Jada crumpled, blood pooling in front of her!
Chat lost it—
'Double sucker punch now'
"Hahahahaha…"
'Old man: Keep running, you get another fist.'
'Lmao, how do you even voice-act like that?!'
'Who taught you to scream like that?'
'Chat's too wild'
'Gus Harper's Evil Plan'
'This guy! Escapes death just to eat a fist.'
'Jada's heart rate's been pinned!'
'Heartbeat Queen!'
"Hahaha, oh man, Heartbeat Queen…"
'…'
Amid the chat's roasting—
The creepy old man grabbed Jada, tying her to a blood-soaked wheelchair!
"You're with that damn priest… his… witness or whatever…"
"Wake up, kid. You must be wiped. Need a breather?"
"Double shot of whiskey, we'll have time to chat…"
As he spoke—
The old man hoisted Jada into the wheelchair.
Straps locked her arms and legs tight.
Jada knew this was bad.
But the game's mechanics left her powerless—she could only let the old man bind her and wheel her out.
Squeak-squeak-squeak.
The wheelchair's rusty wheels screeched through the hospital.
They hit the first-floor lobby of the inpatient wing.
Rumble—
Lightning flashed outside the open door, thunder roaring, rain pouring.
A damp, musty breeze hit Jada's face.
Behind her, the old man's raspy, sinister voice purred:
"Love that mountain air at night. Wanna take a stroll? I'll wait right here…"
"What?!?"
Jada lit up!
"No way! Chat, we found a good guy!"
"There's still hope in this messed-up world!"
She squirmed: "So, uh…"
But before she could finish—
The old man cut her off:
"Not going? Thought you loved running. Don't like freedom? Shame… Let's roll."
Jada: ?!?
As the old man pushed her away from the exit, deeper into the hospital, Jada's defenses shattered!
"No! Yo! Hold up, man!"
"I wanna go! Let me out! OUT—Please!"
"I just wanna go home—!!!"
But the skeletal old man didn't budge, wheeling her deeper.
Chat was in stitches—
'Clowning every day, now you're the clown, huh?'
'Old man: Yeah, I'm a creep, deal with it.'
'Your heart rate's screaming you wanna bolt.'
'Bet this guy's a doctor—white coat, monocle vibes.'
'He's taking Jada for, like, sketchy back-alley surgery.'
'Slice-and-dice special!'
'Doctor Creepo!'
'?'
'Y'all, this ain't right… at least it shouldn't be…'
'PSA: No real doctors here, just psychos in this hospital.'
'Yo, @ShadyDoc, send help!'
'This is too much…'
'…'
With the creaky old elevator, they hit the third floor.
Right out the gate—blood trails on the floor.
A thick stench of blood and rot wafted from the dark.
Jada's gut screamed trouble:
"Whoa, whoa, no—this place ain't right! We said we'd chat! This ain't a chat spot!"
"You got a medical license? This hospital legit? I'm feeling fine now—can we reschedule?"
"Yo, say something! I'm serious…"
Kill me!!! Kill me!!!
A guttural scream from the darkness made Jada jump, cutting off her rambling.
Around the corner, under dim corridor lights, a guy in a security uniform was strapped to a hospital bed, spread-eagled.
His thrashing rattled the iron frame.
His face? A bloody mess, like someone peeled it off. Between his legs, bright red blood soaked the sheets.
"I'm DONE!!!"
Jada's skin crawled!
She thrashed harder than the security guy!
"This is insane! Your surgery skills are trash! You… me… him—what'd you even cut?! I told you those glasses were shady!!!"
But the doctor ignored her screams.
He glanced at the security guard, cool as ice:
"Better not say that again…"
[Kill me! Kill me! It hurts so bad…]
The doctor dropped Jada's wheelchair, strolled to the patient, snapped on rubber gloves, and stabbed his hand in!
The doctor's back blocked the gory details.
But the sound of ripping flesh and gushing blood sent chills through Jada!
Chat went wild—
"Holy—!"
'No wonder this game's 18+!'
"What the…!"
'Bro, I'm feeling phantom pain!'
'I'd pay big bucks for eyes that didn't see this, ears that didn't hear it.'
'What's Gus Harper's deal, man?'
'This is next-level twisted.'
'Yo, Jada, you good? Blink if you're in danger…'
'Haha, this game's a vibe with snacks!'
'?'
'…'
The immersion was too real—Jada's head buzzed, spine iced, body frozen.
Squeak, squeak, squeak.
The wheelchair rolled over sticky, dried blood. The doctor pushed her into a small, dark room.
Click.
A busted surgical lamp flickered on, blood splattered across white mosaic tiles.
A grimy operating table sat in the center.
On it, blood-stained scalpels, tourniquets, suture needles, and scissors—straight out of a slaughterhouse—lined up neatly.
Oh no.
Jada's face fell.
It's over.