A/N: This is an Outlast Fanfiction, and has been given the M Rating for language, violence, and sexual situations. Read at your discretion.

I do not own Outlast, only my OC, a few random characters, and the plot. Don't forget to favorite, and review.

"Victoria Meade."

My head rose up out of my smartphone, which all be damned to hell, had no service. It kind of bugged me that I could possibly be limited to land lines, and who knew how reliable those were.

The deep voice, whom had called my name came from down the hall, belonged to a large, burly man in a nicely pressed navy suit. The big guy had an almost henchman like feel about him. It was a little uncomfortable to look at him directly, his eyes were a bright hazel, but they were very menacing.

Albeit how nervous the Big Guy made me, I eagerly sprang up out of the folding chair he'd sat me down in only twenty minutes ago. And, because fate has it out for me, I nearly tripped over my own two feet, barely managing to catch myself from falling face first into the carpeted flooring.

Damn these high heels; if it weren't for the appeal of looking professional I would've worn my traditional flats. With a sigh, I attempted to collect myself, and pushed back a strand of unruly blonde hair behind my ears, and fidgeted with the black frame of my glasses that had fallen off a tad bit in the attempt to keep myself from looking anymore of a fool than had already been done. I stole a look at the Big Guy, and saw a tiny smile creep up on his mouth.

All be damned to hell.

I collected myself with a bit of a huff, and strode down the long hall way. I wanted to ooze as much confidence as I possibly could, because I certainly didn't want any of these men at this institute to think I was unqualified to work here. I had my degrees, and I had plenty of experience that would put some of these practitioners to shame.

I'd be damned if they would belittle me over something as trivial as my gender.

Mount Massive Asylum had not been my first pick of a job, to be completely honest. There were plenty of other rehabilitation institutions, and psychiatric hospitals that I had applied for. But of course, the only one to get back to me was this dump, hidden up in the mountains and pretty much cut off from all of society. Albeit this massive inconvenience, it was known that the Murkoff corporation was one of the leading organizations in the world, known for their advancements through dream therapy.

I was puzzled at first as to why I'd been selected for the initial internship; I was told that Mount Massive Asylum wasn't known to have female staff due to a known hazard (only to them, apparently) here that they had failed to mention to me during the initial interview. Because of these reasons, they strangely tried to talk me out of actually taking the job - but that only made me want to take the internship even more. I was never one to refuse a challenge. In recent months they deemed it safe to allow at least one woman to attempt to work here in this hellish, misogynist run asylum.

Apparently I was to be the guinea pig, since they were desperate to have extra staff. It didn't come as a surprise to me that they had that much trouble finding help.

It became frighteningly clear that these men were not women friendly; they were mostly sexist pigs that believed a place like this was not for a woman. Not just because of the ridiculous male population and the hazard that was being kept from me, but because they had the idea that a woman was not capable of being a doctor. That a woman was not capable of being more successful than them.

"Please, right this way. Mr. Blaire will see you now... please, watch your step." He stepped back, his large hand gesturing towards the open door of my soon-to-be boss' office, before walking away. I shot a glare back at him for his snide remark, and I'm sure my face now was as red as a beet in color, rather than the usual pale. But the Big Guy paid no mind, and continued to saunter down the hallway, chuckling lightly to himself. I rolled my eyes and turned back to the door.

Deep breath girl, we can do this. I needed to cheer myself on a little bit in order to gather enough courage to step through the door of Mr. Blaire's office. I'd heard some stories that he was not a kind employer.

Here we go...

The sound of my heels were muffled as I stepped into my employer's office. His office was carpeted in what looked like a cheap, grotesque yellow rug. Albeit the ugly carpeting, his office was very large, and still somewhat classy. But upon further inspection, I found I was wrong; there were filing cabinets that remained open, with their contents haphazardly leaking out of them. There were also papers scattered around on tables throughout the room. The only thing I noticed wasn't entirely disorganized was his book shelf, which was vastly filled with mostly law volumes, and a few medical terminology reads. But it was silently affirming that perhaps Mr. Blaire never touched these books. Perhaps he was a man who thought he already knew everything there was to know.

After assessing the room, my eyes finally fell to where Jeremy Blaire was seated in the room. He was situated behind a wooden mahogany desk, seated in a large, black leather chair with its back towards me. I could hear him quietly speaking on the phone with a hushed voice.

I stood there, slightly aggravated that I had been made to wait as long as I had. Waiting in the hall for the past hour had totally depleted my patience. As I looked around, I noticed that a button on my white blouse had come undone, exposing a thin line of cleavage that was none too professional. Hidden between the curves sat my silver cross pendant, a gift from my mother before I'd left my cozy home back in California.

"Jesus will help guide you, sweetheart - so you can guide those poor, deranged men in confinement. Help them find God."

My mother was a bit of a religious nut, not that I had really taken after her myself. I was a woman who enjoyed proven theories, and not theories that were said to be facts when there was no evidence behind them.

Perhaps there was a god - but perhaps not.

It didn't seem incredibly important at the moment, seeing as a lot of the men here probably had little to no faith. I went back to trying to button my blouse back up without Mr. Blaire seeing. I wanted to remain completely, and totally professional. I would not make myself a fool, and I'd be damned if any of them saw me that way. Hell, I was professional. I was cool, and collected. I mean, that's what I'd keep telling myself anyway.

As he continued to speak on his phone, my mind wandered a little, imagining what it really meant to be a psychiatric counselor here at Mount Massive. My internship here was to be conducted under the wing of a Dr. Brookes, who from what I understood was a senile old man on the brink of retirement. Hence the need to have a new doctor to take his place.

My thoughts again brushed against the situation I was getting myself into. It was a bit frightening that I was here as the only woman in the whole institution. A lot of these inmates haven't seen a woman in many years, and I was unsure of how they might react. I mean, sure, they would obviously hoot and holler and try to touch me if they'd thrown their common human decency out the window when they checked in to the asylum. But could it be more dangerous than just that?

Maybe it would be best to ask about having a security guard when I was with the patients...

I was also curious to know what else happened in this place; before I had even applied for the job, I'd heard rumors that the organization had been conducting illegal tests on the inmates... but I would probably never have enough clearance to learn if these were whispers were in fact true, or just other companies trying to slander Murkoff.

"Miss Meade."

The voice was... like nails on a chalk board. I knew it was Jeremy Blaire, who in fact had a very cooperate sound to him. And it sounded like he was rather annoyed that I had gotten so lost in my own thoughts that I hadn't enough respect to pay attention to the one who would be signing my (very big) pay checks.

My eyes fixated on him- he was leaned back in his seat, his legs crossed, looking somewhat irritated. I clutched at my purse and stepped forward, extending my hand to him. "Mr. Blaire - how do you do? I apologize for that, I was a little wrapped up in my own thoughts."

"Well, perhaps we ought to have you committed." He joked, a small smile cracking on his smug face.

"Now, please, have a seat. I'm sure those shoes are killing you." His eyes worked me up from the black stilettos that I had reluctantly worn, up to my nude stocking clad legs, and then lingered on the fair line of cleavage that had yet again been exposed due to a faulty button.

He didn't even bother to meet my handshake as his eyes lingered on my chest. This is exactly what I was talking about. I could already feel a headache beginning to blossom to life in the back of my head.

Clearing my throat, I gestured to my extended hand, which caused him to look up at my face. He gave me a little frown, but finally gave me a sweaty palm to shake with my own small hand. After that horrible moment was over, I gracefully took my seat in the chair across from him. I was happy to see it wasn't a folding chair, but a chair with cushions and actual arms. After briskly shaking my hand, he stood and began to walk away from his desk. I truly hoped this wan't a foreshadowing of how I would be treated here.

"Now, you are aware that this is a risky job for someone of your... gender." He spoke slowly, and I wasn't sure if the the question was an insult to me or an actual precautionary statement. His eyes never left my face as he rounded around the desk.

"There are a few hundred male patients here, and then a hundred or so male staff. You will be the only female at this asylum, Ms. Meade - I hope you do realize this. I understand that even through out the video chat interview,"- which happened prior to my arrival, given that Mount Massive was a good few hundred miles or so away from home - "we tried to warn you of the risks here, and you still refused to step down from this paid internship. We were not trying to really dissuade you... we just need you to be completely aware of the risks. But we are more than happy to have someone as qualified as yourself. Ah... also this non-disclosure, and liability waiver... I need you to sign, please." He addressed, stepping now to the front of his desk to lean against it, putting himself directly in front of me. He handed me two separate stacks of papers that were stapled together. He looked down at me, and crossed his arms.

Reading through each quietly, I found myself a little shaken by what I was reading.

Section 5A2b; Any disclosure of the events inside of Mount Massive Asylum will not only result in termination of the employee's standing contract, but will also result in a five thousand dollar fine, and possible jail time.

If you are bitten, hit, or maimed in anyway, the Murkoff corporation is only liable to cover at least sixty five percent of the damages of the employee.

At this time, with any female interns or employees, if they fall pregnant during their time at the Mount Massive Asylum, they are subjected to immediate termination if they themselves do not terminate their pregnancy. Failure to comply results in immediate termination, and a five thousand dollar fine, and possible jail time.

Jail time for not aborting a child? I assume this was due to the Murkoff Corporation's worry that if I were to be... possibly raped, and conceive a child I would probably try to sue them and it would bring too much attention to this place. That had to be why it was such a big deal... right?

"I understand the risk I could be putting myself in, I'm aware of the unstable patients here who have probably not seen a woman in a very, very long time. As well as some of the employees..." I coughed nervously as I signed both waivers, "But the fact is, you only have eight psychologists on staff, in a place with hundreds of men who need psychological help. The whole reason for my being, my calling - is to help those in need. Whether it's to rapists, molesters, murderers, or serial killers. All of their perverted and evil history prior to meeting me is irrelevant for me. I am not here to counsel them with a biased ear, to get down to the trauma that cost them everything." I sat back in my seat and eyed Jeremy Blaire with a harsh gaze. I wasn't sure what the point of repeating himself was really getting at.

If he didn't want me here, or thought I was a liability for the company, why even take me on?

Jeremy stared at me with uninterested eyes, as if my passion for my career was meaningless to him, and that I was a moron for even speaking up.

"What is relevant is what is going on inside of their heads, and what has caused their actions. And I am fully aware that I will have certain needs met - like not being left alone with a patient. I was told I would be given the option to have a security personnel with me at all times while I am in the cell blocks, or in the office with Dr. Brookes if we are speaking with a patient... I am not scared of this situation, Mr. Blaire. Nor am I scared of an incident with a coworker, because I'm sure you've just handed out waivers that are almost similar to these. I really doubt you're trying to risk losing any staff members over a female intern." The nervousness that I had carried since walking in here had left me, now filled with a sense of confidence that I'd been trying to ooze since I walked through the doors of the asylum. I was here to help people - not worry about whether they wanted a piece of me. I could ignore that.

Mr. Blaire peered down at me with beady little eyes, and I tried my best to hold on tight to my bravado. But then he seemed to relax, his shoulders drooping as he let out a sigh. His hand raised up to hold his head, shaking it slowly. "Alright. I would not even consider letting you in here if it weren't for your degrees, and recommendations, blah blah blah... let's go ahead and get you settled. I assume all of your belongings are here? Good."

He rose from the desk, but did not move from in front of me. Instead his head dipped down, close to mine. His breath stunk like yesterday's milk, and it was obvious he hadn't shaved for a few days. "Now, run along out to the front lobby, Dr. Brookes is no doubt waiting. Be kind to him, he is old and forgetful." A smug smile appeared on his face before he turned away, back to his seat. I was confused as to why he had gotten so close to me, it seemed an awful lot like he enjoyed watching me cringe away from him. Again, my thoughts turned to how I would truly be treated here. None of these men were going to completely abide by the rules... I was fair game. But I knew how to play with the boys in the big league and still keep my head held high.

I rose from my seat, and gave him a tight, polite smile, thanking him for this opportunity. As I turned for the door, his arrogant little voice called for me once more.

"Miss Meade?" He inquired, as I turned to his beckon only to see the smirk that was still lingering on the bastard's face.

"Yes, sir?" I replied, trying to remain as calm and respectful as I could. Bite your tongue, I told myself. This was probably going to be one of the last times that I spoke with my employer directly, and I could deal with it... for now.

"Do make sure you take your contraceptives regularly. I'd hate for there to be some sort of accident." His smirk widened as he turned away from me.

A shiver went down my spine, and it seemed my bravado had finally slivered out from under me.