Author's note:

Hello one and all!

First off, before we start, this will mostly be set around my OC, who is, a Psycho. Not completely over the edge enough to be a Variant (Yet), but enough to warrant him being in such a place like this. Later on, I will introduce other characters (Such as Park, Gluskin, etc)

I will also be introducing a side female character soon as well, just to bring a bit of kindness and sanity to the story xD

Also, I have recently made an Outlast tumblr, so people can see my art (Which some pics may be based on my fic) the link to it is on my profile.

Most chapters will be in first person, just so people can get an insight to how the main character's mind works.

Anyway, enjoy!

Rated M for Violence, Language and Sexual Content

Chapter 1 - Forgetful

How long have I been here for?

That question constantly swirls around the mess that is my mind. Well, others say it's a mess, but to be quite frank, I think I'm perfectly fine. Ok, so I get the odd sadistic impulse, who doesn't these days?

Apparently acting them out is frowned upon though.

Which is why I find myself here, inside this looney bin, staring up at the ceiling. My light had long since died, casting a dreadful shadow across my cell. As much as I hate to admit it; darkness makes my skin crawl. Reminds me of too many things from my past, things that must stay in the past. Despite the fact these arseholes kept reminding me about what happened all those years ago. Want me to relive them in my mind.

One would think they're trying to make me insane.

How rude.

My thoughts are disturbed - as per usual - by my next door neighbour. An idiot, who thinks shouting and banging his head into the cell bars is a good idea. Every day he does it, and every day his face looks worse and worse. Though, that could also be due to that damned machine as well.

I turn on the mattress, shoulder sinking into the rather uncomfortable material as I watch the insane man. As irritating as he could be, seeing him in pain and discomfort did satisfy me in a small way. I even find myself smiling at the sight of blood trickling down the other's broken face. A rare thing for me to do these days; smile.

Not much to smile about. Between being locked in here, my therapy sessions and the threat of that damned machine. So, these little moments of delight I had to savour quickly. I see no problem in finding bliss in other's pain. That's how everyone thinks, surely.

"You won't take me!"

Oh, here he goes again. This will go on til the man knocks himself out against the bars. It had become the insane blokes routine; Scream, shout, smash face, knock out. All I could do is watch and find amusement. Though soon enough, he sees me watching, and his frustrations turn my way. "Stop smiling, pretty boy!" He spits though bloodied lips, causing one of my eyebrows to rise slightly. Ahh yes, a little pet name that idiot had chosen for me.

Though I hate it with a passion. Someone else called me that in the past. A man who was now worm food in the ground, like he should be. "Just you wait, pretty boy. The machine will eat you too. Will eat your brain til nothing is left!" His face smashed against the bars, harder this time, splattering right red blood across the cell floor. "They won't take me! Not again... no... I'll keep my brain. Won't have me!"

There was a sickening crunch, like music to my ears, before the patient crumpled to the ground. Fantastic, it seemed he knocked himself out at last.

No... wait a second. I've seen enough dead bodies to know what had actually happened to him. So intrigued by this I was, I slid off the bed and plodded towards him. His eyes were wide and lifeless, nose completely caved in as blood trickled from his many facial wounds. The moron had managed to kill himself! I could feel my smile widen somewhat at the sight, even moving a hand to poke at the flesh.

Of course, it wasn't long until men arrived in the small room. The camera in the corner having informed them of my neighbours death. They usually weren't in a hurry to clean messes up, but it seemed they needed the cell for someone else. They were less then gentle with the corpse, yanking the deceased onto a stretcher before wheeling him out. I've always wondered what they do with the corpses here. Do they burn them? Bury them? Leave them in a pile to rot under the sun? Goodness I should stop thinking about it before I work myself up!

And soon enough, I was alone again in my dark cell.

The silence is welcomed, maybe now I can get some peaceful sleep. Hah, fat chance I guess. Damned nightmares, every night. Even worse without the comforting glow from my light. It's as if they know I hate the dark, which is why they refuse to fix it in my cell.

Bastards.

I find myself back upon the dirty mattress, eyes staring up at the ceiling. 314. That was how many cracks there were. Yes, so long had I been in this particular cell, I had actually managed to count every single mark there was. Not much else to do. Maybe my next neighbour would be more entertaining? Or would they lumber me with yet another mindless creature set about on destroying themselves?

As delightful as it was to watch a man break down and rumble like that, I kind of miss having a decent conversation. It's frustrating to say the least.

Wait. Didn't I ask myself a question earlier?

Goodness, I am so forgetful these days. For the smaller details; the Doctors here refused to let me forget about the important things. The things that made me into the man I am today.

What was the question again...

Ah yes! How long had I been here?

All that effort to remember, and I can't even answer my own question. How frustrating. It feels like I have been here for so, so long. A few years perhaps? Or maybe months...? It's hard to tell. I fold my hands over my chest, thumbs twiddling as I try my hardest to think. To try and remember when I came to this place.

But again, I am interrupted by something tapping against the bars. I ignore them. As always. It frustrates the guards, and I love doing such things. "Oi, Evans." The impatient voice called out. I finally look in the direction of the guard... Jerry was it? I'm terrible at remembering names. Even my own sometimes. They usually just refer to me as 'patient'. Rarely would they use my name, except the few guards around. "Don't get too comfortable alone. Your new buddy will be arriving soon. Quite a hand full apparently."

Outstanding.

"Can't wait.." I replied in a usual sarcastic tone. By the sounds of it, they were going to put another mindless creature next to me.

Maybe I should rest now while I can. I wasn't going anywhere for a while...

Wait...

Is... that a new crack in the ceiling? Damn..! Now I'll have to recount them all, make sure I have the right number in my head. Otherwise, it's going to bother me all night.

Or is it day?

I'm not sure.

Anyway...

1...2...3...4...

Chapters will be longer from here on out I think. This is just to get a feel of Evans.

He's not quite 'Bat shit crazy', but neither is he really sane xD

Don't worry, I will be adding the actual events of Outlast later, I'm simply building up to it xD