I have no idea what to say at this point. I jump from Avengers and Spider-Man to the Maze Runner trilogy to Detroit: Become Human and now to Outlast (Yay!). What is wrong with me? Please help.
I just keep getting inspired to write stories. Please don't hate me. Anyways, let's hope that this story turns out better than some others!
Oh, hi. I didn't really expect you to be there. So, here we are. Wait, where am I?
BANG*
Oh, right. I'm in Mount Massive's asylum, getting shot to death. Wonder what happened to the Walrider? I mean, whatever the Walrider did to me hurt like no other shit could ever hurt, but then it just vanished like nobody's business.
So, have you felt how it's like to die? Probably not, because you're reading this. But what if, in death, you could read this. How would it feel like?
Well, I don't need you to tell me, since I'm about to find out.
BANG*
Aaand there another bullet goes, entering my soft tissue. More like ripping through my soft tissue, but I'm not complaining. In fact, if I could, I would rejoice at the fact that I'm about to die. But I can't, because my entire body feels like a big bruise.
Oh, look. Two more bullets joined their buddies. Isn't that fantastic? Hey, look! Ano—
Aaaaand I can't see anymore. A bullet tore through my eyeball. That hurt.
clink*
What the fuck was that? Holy shit, my sight is returning! WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!
"Gott im Himmel. You have become the new host." What? The host? But the Walrider is dead!
No, I'm not!
"Shit, I'm hearing voices!" I wail, not wanting to be this insane so fast. "I was only here for a day, I can't be that insane!"
Yeah, you aren't. I'm real, not like some memory of someone talking like those dipshit romance movies.
This is going too far. First, I'm getting shot at—Wait, what? I listen closely at what's around me, realizing that it's gone completely quiet.
Then I actually look at where the soldiers were shooting from, and all of the soldiers had their guts spilling out of them. An eye was rolling across the floor to my feet, stopping just inches from touching me, and I'm not surprised I haven't thrown up yet. I saw this all the time for the entire night, of course I'm not going to vomit just from seeing this.
Something black was swirling about, and then it materialized. Into a very familiar masculine figure.
Hello.
Running had never been so easy. Sprinting past the Walrider, I sprinted through all of the hallways and burst into the lobby. Every ache and bruise, every fracture that I got from the Walrider seemed to have disappeared, and I felt like I could fight Chris Walker and make it out with barely a scratch.
The Walrider appeared right in front of me, blocking my only way out.
Hey, listen.
That one line made me think of Navi from Ocarina of Time, and the Walrider seemed to shudder, though it looked more like a ripple in a pond.
Don't compare me to that annoying fairy. She has no sense of humor. Not to mention useless as fuck. Now I, I got everything you could possibly want from a partner that comes with you on adventures..
"How the fuck do you know Navi? You have never even played the game!" The Walrider tried to replicate a snort, but it sounded more like an engine trying to start.
Come on, you can't be that stupid!
I glowered at Walrider as best as I could, and the Walrider merely laughed in my head. At least, I think in my head.
You haven't died yet, despite getting shot at, like, at least twenty five times. Billy Hope died, and yet I'm still alive, and all of the soldiers that tried to kill you are all dead due to me. Not to mention that I haven't killed you yet.
Yeah, that is true. Wait, so the Walrider isn't going to kill me?
So shocking. Walrider isn't killing someone for once, get out the beer and celebrate!
And now I have the Walrider getting sarcastic with me. Wow. What an exciting day!
Okay, I can see you just aren't getting it. And here I thought I had a competent host.
Wait, what did you say?
Mic drop.
All of the air in my lungs turned cold as ice, and my heart skipped a beat. Am I hallucinating, or did the Walrider just tell me I was his host?
What, are you just going to sit there with your mouth open, or are you going to leave?
"Wait, so I'm your host now?" The Walrider crossed their arms and made a tapping motion with its foot, obviously unamused. "Okay, just making sure you weren't fucking with me."
Why would I fuck with you? If I wanted to fuck with someone, it would be—
The Walrider's head tilted to the right, as if listening in to something, before it gave off a mechanical growl. Within the blink of an eye, the Walrider disappeared from my view. Then, not even a moment later, I could hear someone screaming. My feet were moving all on their own, traveling through the doors as I could hear the person scream.
"Oh, god! Oh, Christ in heaven! How did it get out?!" Is he talking about the Walrider? Oh, fuck!
Slightly limping, I managed to get my bloody fingers to twist the doorknob and swung the door open to see a man -who also happens to be Mr. Blaire, whom blew me off in multiple interviews, that bastard- being held by the Walrider all the way up to the ceiling. "No! No, please! No! No!"
Howls erupted from Mr. Blaire as the Walrider began to thrash him around, before tearing him apart in an explosion of guts. Another male began to scream as Mr. Blaire's blood splattered all over him, someone that I didn't even see until now. The Walrider formed in front of me, his head moving back and forth between me and the mess that he made.
So, are you going to congratulate me for murdering the dude that started this entire mess?
So Mr. Blaire started this? I'm not surprised, not at all.
Well?
What?
Whatever happened to saying thank you?
Oh, sorry. So many things have chased me that I completely forgot about manners. Thanks for murdering Mr. Blaire. Probably would have done it myself, but you did a much better job decorating the place in his guts.
I like to think I'm a pro at this by now. Not that you need me to tell you.
I rolled my eyes at how the Walrider was basically feeding his own ego by this point, if he even has one.
Hey! Just because I ain't human, doesn't mean that I don't have an ego!
I raised my hands in surrender.
Sorry, didn't mean to offend you, Walrider.
No problem, I guess.
We have to find you a new name.
What? Why? Walrider is perfect!
But I want a nickname! How about Wally?
No, too generic. And Wally is a horrible name. It makes people think of that weird robot that fell in love with a space robot named Eve. Or Eva, whichever one you prefer.
Okay, how do you know all of these movies? You haven't even been outside yet!
You're my host. I can see your memories. And you've seen all of these movies, of fucking course I'm going to know all of these things.
Okay, jeez. Enough already. Can we just get out of here?
Okay, but—Hold on, that dude is running outside.
The Walrider slipped out of my forearms and his partially invisible form slipped under the doorway. I hobbled after him, pushing open the door to see—
Hey! He's heading for my car!
Who was the idiot that left their keys in the car?
Ha, ha. Very funny. Wait, is that what I think it is?
I lift the camcorder that I still have, not even damaged other than the crack from earlier in my journey. Zooming in on the patient's hand, I gasped lightly at the camcorder that the patient is holding.
Dude, he has a camcorder!
Okay, can we kill him?
No! He can help me take down Murkoff with whatever he recorded!
So, can we take the camcorder and then kill him?
How about...no.
Oh, come on!
Fine, we'll scare him shitless. Is that what you want?
But I want to murder him...
Come on, he's in the car now! Either take it or leave it!
...Fine.
Finally!
The familiar black smoke that once haunted me through the hallways now covered my arms, and surrounded me in a small tornado. The Walrider smashed a bunch of cars, and I could see the patient lifting up their camcorder in my direction before dropping it in my car and pulling the gear into reverse, most likely slamming the gas pedal by how the car is speeding away.
Fucking hell! This dude is trying to destroy my car!
Can we kill him?
What is it with you and murder?
Hey! Spend almost a ton of your life just wasting away in boredom, only for the most interesting parts of your life to be people killing each other and loving it, see how you turn out. Oh, wait. That basically describes your life up until this point, now, doesn't it?
Oh, shut up! Can we just focus on keeping my car safe?
Fine, fine. Whatever you say, boss.
Thanks for finally noticing who's in charge, Wally.
I form a wall of nanites between my jeep and the wall that the patient was about to drive into, stopping the Jeep without denting the metal. Letting out a small sigh, I lifted the jeep and gently placed it onto the street outside, keeping it from moving as I walked to it. The patient inside was thrashing about inside the Jeep, and was bashing against the driver's door.
"Hey! Stop damaging my car, god damn it! I got a new paint job, like, a few weeks ago!" The patient stopped, his joints freezing up. He turned to face me, and I squinted at him, feeling like I saw him in the asylum before.
"Hey, you're that guy that was by the generator room!" Patient I-slightly-remember-the-fucker tilted his head to the side, unsure about what I was talking about. "You know, by the little courtyard?!"
He nodded, still a bit hesitant, and some nanites entered my Jeep through the window still slighly opened by the driver's door and opened the passenger's window, so I could talk without having to constantly shout. "Hi..." The patient waved slightly as he said that, his eyes wide and panicked.
"Oh, sorry. Wally over here just wanted to scare you shitless. Ain't that right, Wally?" The nanites that were billowing about swarmed up my jacket's sleeves, and I could feel them shaking and buzzing in anger as they swarmed into my pores.
My name is WALRIDER, not fucking WallyGet it right you piece of shit!
Hey! Don't say stuff like that! I'm just trying to get this guy on my side so I don't have to kill more people to hurt Murkoff.
You've been doing an awfully great job, boss.
I pushed the Walrider out of my mind, ignoring his obnoxiously loud voice(?) and pulled my lips into a smile. A small one that I hoped would seem like a nice smile. By the way the patient was staring at me, probably not.
The patient lifted his right index finger at me -which I most dearly missed- and whispered, "Are those bullet holes in your shirt?" Oh, fuck. Forgot about those.
Like how you forgot your intelligence back in your mom during birth?
Oh, fuck off for a sec.
Attempting a more natural smile, I replied with "Oh, yeah. Forgot about those." Yeah, definitely got a nice reaction from that.
"How the fuck are you—Oh. I get it. Wally is the Walrider, isn't it?"
Told you. It was too easy to guess what I was. Then again he should have guessed it just from the black smoke that was pouring out of you from earlier.
Hey, what did I say?
To fuck off for a sec.
How about you just fuck off until the day I die?
*gasp* Why, I never! Is this the way you treat all of your friends, or at least people you are acquainted to?
Only the ones that aren't you—Hey, I just thought of a name for you!
Oh, god. I liked Wally better than that name. Don't you fucking da—
Your name is Billy, at least for now until we find a good name on the internet. Much better than Walrider!
...Maybe I should have died with Billy.
Oh, where's your most precious intelligence now?
Right now? Since my intelligence is the same as my host's intelligence, inside your mother's womb.
God, you're absolutely disgusting.
Says the guy who landed in a pile of body parts and didn't throw up on the spot.
A car door got us both to shut up as the patient began running away.
Billy—
I got it.
A swarm of nanites surrounded the patient and plucked him out of the air, dragging the screaming dude back. Tears were streaming down the guy's fade as he practically wailed right in front of me. "Calm down, jeez. I'm not going to kill you. Hey, Hope, could you put him down?"
The Walrider complained in my head as the swarm flew up my sleeves again, dropping the poor patient on the floor. "Please don't kill me!" His eyes were red and he had a runny nose, but the patient looked fine enough.
"I won't unless you give me a reason to. Like running away with all that evidence." The patient blinked, and gave me this look that people give when they are really looking at someone instead of just judging them by a glance.
"So, you aren't going to kill me?" I nodded, and the dude appeared as though he was going to start bawling again. But he thankfully just wiped his eyes, stood up -with what I noticed was a bad leg- and stuck out his hand for me to shake. I shook it, silently telling the Walrider to heal his foot as the patient said, "I'm Waylon Park."
My mouth dropped open, and I barely even recognized anything happening around me as I just recalled the name of the person that sent me that email. "You...You're the guy that sent me that email..."
Broiling fury resonated within me. "You brought me to this god-forsaken place, nearly had me killed multiple times and got me stuck with the Walrider as my 'reward!'" Waylon shrunk into himself as my voice rose to a half-yell.
What's wrong with being my host?!
Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact that I'm can't live like a normal human being anymore! I have to be constantly moving now, and I'll always be reminded of Murkoff now that I have you!
Well, then maybe you should get going now. Also, from what I get by your lifestyle, being a normal human being sucked. Be grateful that you don't have to work to live now that you have me!
Should I? I went through all of that crap, and you expect me to feel grateful about being handed you instead of being handed a nice and comfortable life without ever being reminded of Murkoff ever again, of being free from Murkoff and getting revenge against them forever?
Yeah, never mind.
"I'm sorry." The Walrider fell silent, leaving me to deal with the cry baby that is in front of me. "I sent that before all the shit went down, I didn't mean for you to go through that."
"Uh..." Then Waylon started to cry again, repeatedly talking about someone called Lisa and probably others, but I couldn't catch it because his words were all slurred together and he was constantly sniffling as he cried. Waylon leaned against me, and I stood there, uncomfortable, as Waylon continued to cry.
You should probably comfort him.
Oh, and why would you say that?
Because I want this idiot to shut up! Can we please kill this guy?
No more murder. Just because I'm still mad at you.
Fucking hell!
You shouldn't antagonize your hosts, if you want to live. Just saying.
You're probably right, for once.
What do you mean, for once?
Exactly how it sounds.
I lightly pushed on Waylon, sort of surprised at how easy it was to move this man. "Look at me." Once Waylon lifted his head, I continued. "I don't want to kill anyone, but you seriously need to stop before Billy starts to get cranky."
"But if you're the host, doesn't that mean that Billy is dead?" Despite being confused, Waylon wiped his eyes and managed to make his rambling decipherable.
"That's the Walrider's new nickname. Now hurry up before—!"
BANG*
A bullet zipped past us and hit the concrete, and I could see the hole before the dust even cleared out. Waylong yelped and hid behind the jeep as what appeared to be black smoke billowed out from under my sleeves and completely covered my body. Not even needing to squint, I could make out some soldiers heading out of the building and aiming their guns at us.
Now can we kill?
How about yes?
Oh, I just hit the jackpot!
A ghastly shriek erupted from the Walrider as the black smoke began to disperse along the parking lot, spreading its inky fingers to the soldiers and picking them up, bashing them against the ground and yanking out their innards. Blood coated the ground as the soldiers died, gunshots ringing out and a bullet managing to hit me after bouncing off a bullet-proof vehicle. Screams bursted forth as I turned to face Waylon, shouting, "Get inside the Jeep!"
Sparing me a single glance, Waylon slammed the passenger's door behind him a moment later, the swarm of nanites keeping the soldiers at bay as I sat in the driver's seat. Closing the door more gently than Waylon did, I pushed the gas pedal down slowly and managed to drive away with no incident, the swarm of nanites easily catching up to the Jeep and entering through Waylon's open window. Waylon yelped as the nanites flew right past his face and up my sleeves once more, retreating into my body.
God, that still fucking hurts. How long is it going to take until I'm used to this?
Honestly, I don't know. You're the second host I've ever had, and I couldn't even retreat into Billy, that bastard wouldn't even accept me back into his body. Otherwise he'd fucking die from the pain that he felt, because he was a fragile as a toothpick.
Well, that's reassuring.
Well, you know. Just trying to do my best.
"...lo? Oh, god!" My mind came back into the present, and my hands jolted at his sudden scream.
"Holy shit! What the fuck happened?" Waylon shivered violently, terrified by the look on his face.
"A bullet..." Glancing over to where Waylon was pointing, I cursed at the bullet holes in my windshield, air whistling as it passed through the hole. The rearview mirror showed a car behind and to the right of us with a business man driving as half of his body was out the window, trying to aim at us.
"Okay, no need to panic." Big, wide eyes just stared back at me.
Swerve to the left!
I turned left just as I heard a gunshot, Waylon screaming as I drove like I was drunk. "Did you put on your seatbelt?" Nanites began to swirl around my Jeep, keeping the bullets from reaching my car, and I silently thanked the Walrider as I pushed the gas pedal to the floor.
Behind us, we could hear the man screaming and tires squealing as the car most likely swerved wildly, and then a large crash, metal bending and glass breaking upon impact. An image of the same car that was following us right by the side of a building with blood and a corpse's torso hanging out of the driver's window flashed in my mind when the Walrider came back.
So, are you happy now?
Yes. Yes I am.
Taking a right, I sneaked a glance over at Waylon Park, the guy that brought me into that nightmare of an asylum with a simple email. My hands clenched on the wheel so tightly that the driver's wheel cracked before I let up. I couldn't find it in me to take my revenge out on that poor soul, he probably didn't think all of that shit would happen, but I still couldn't forgive him for sending me that message. Perhaps spending time with Waylon could help me forgive him?
Probably not.
{Start of Author's Notes}
Well, this was a blast to make. I was inspired by Remnants of Insanity by I forget who, so if you find some similar writing styles you know where I got it from. Anyways, I hope you all have a fantastic week and I hope to be able to post more. Bye!
Poem:
I wanted to fly
But I fell down instead
And next thing I know
I realize I'm dead
Blood pours from my neck
Floor stained crimson red
And now I'm watching
Me on my death bed
My hands are folded
Body's sleeping with ease
But my soul is restless
I will never find peace