Well, I decided to continue, but with AP tests coming up and a plethora of other business to attend to, I can't say when, or sadly if, the next part will be released. I don't know, I'm having some fun jotting most of this down, but I can't seem to force myself to commit to it.

I also want to mention, especially if this goes on in the future, that there may be some spoilers to Outlast in this fic; of course, the story itself is based off the game, but I can't promise to leave out some of the many intricate details, and if you happen to be watching the game through, or God help you, playing it, I might spoil some other things for you. You have been warned.

As if it needs to be said, I do not own either property. Enjoy.


His insides burned as he sat up and he felt the room sway back and forth. Or maybe he was swaying, it was difficult to tell. Scooby was in the distance, staring at him, as if unsure of Shaggy's identity. He was woozy, but the skinny man was able to get to his knees. It was then that he noticed the older man beside him.

"Easy, son…"

Shaggy's eyes shot open and he stumbled back, fearful of the man whose intentions, past, and thoughts he was unable to determine. He was bald and his face was haggard, broken looking, yet he retained an air of experience and wisdom as well. Other worldly wisdom, to be sure, something far past supernatural, but wisdom regardless.

"Who...who are you?" Shaggy asked, still recovering from the fall. He stumbled onto his chest again when he remembered the burly man that threw him down. How long ago it was, what lifetime that horrific event occurred in, he had no idea.

"I am Father Martin, and you...you are my prophet, son."

"What?"

"Ah, but you are weary...and I fear our friend will be back soon...rest."

"Father" Martin moved his hand over Shaggy's face and an immediate and all-consuming blackness overtook him, and the image of his terrified dog looking on in hopelessness went from the dismal yellow glow of the atrium, into a dying gray, and at last, all was dark.

"Where'd he go?"

"What happened? Who did this…?"

The questions that come from the girls' mouths did not reach Fred's ears. Scooby had been found, too shocked or spooked to relate what had happened to his best friend. Blood was everywhere here too. There was so much blood...it couldn't all have been man's.

The moonlight was flowing in through the cracked windows above the doors. Every so often, they could hear voices. Whether they were real or imagined, cries of relief or unimagined terror, was not discernable. They were not alone, not by any means, and that could prove to be their salvation, or damnation.

"The only option now," Fred finally told the girls, "is to find Shaggy….and leave."

"What? We can't leave, what happened to saving the day, stopping the horrors and monstrosities?" Velma questioned.

"I want to do that Velma, but…"

Daphne watched the two exchange looks and shivered as a faint wind came from some invisible geyser down the hall. Scooby was still laying quietly, tail beneath his legs and paws over his eyes. She couldn't blame him.

"Now more than ever, we're in danger," Fred argued, "now more than any other time, we're in over our heads. If it was the military that was out there, then we can't do anything, and even if it wasn't, we're still in a lot trouble."

"Which is why we have to do this and live up to our creed. To our promise to help. Whatever the mystery of Project Walrider is, it's worth investigating."

"Even with our lives on the line?"

"..."

"The exit is right here, so close...we may not get this chance ever again. I'm going to find Shaggy. Stay with Scooby, and stay here. If we're not back in half an hour...take the Mystery Machine and go."

"No!" Daphne interjected, placing her hands on Fred's arm.

"Forget it, I'm not leaving!" Velma added.

"Don't you get it?" Fred snapped, eyes teary, "We're too far up the river...we're in way too deep already...I'm scared out of my mind, and is it any wonder why? Take a look at this place, take a good look at all that dark red, organic paint on the walls. Do you want to become part of it?"

Velma waited for Fred to wipe away the moisture, considering his words carefully, but remaining resolute, "I do know...and I understand we could die here...but I left a friend in here, and I can't leave without knowing that I saved him, or had no chance of saving him in the first place."

"Please...we have to come to an agreement here," Daphne pleaded.

"There's no other choice. It's leave now, while we can, or die. Physically or psychologically, if we stay...we die," Fred warned.

"I'm staying…" Velma said.

Her glasses hid her pupils, and most of her irises, but the staunch opposition to retreating was written clearly on her lips, and her cheeks, resembling stone. If there was ever a time when Velma was more unafraid than Fred, it was now.

"Then we stay…" Fred lamented.

"Now, what about Shaggy?" Velma inquired.

"Scooby...you've got to tell us what happened," Daphne said, crouching down and pulling Scooby's head up.

The great dane whined and looked out towards the unlocked doors of the exit, and heard the pouring rain that was the sign of freedom. He looked up at Daphne, but put his head back down again, unable to accept her offer.

"Give us a minute?" Daphne suggested.

Fred went to the offices to the right and Velma headed left. As on the second floor, these offices were ransacked, destroyed beyond a shadow of a doubt. Fred found it difficult to navigate in the darkness, but he managed to stumble onto a cracked camcorder, and was amazed to find it had a decent amount of life in it.

Using the nightvision feature, he fumbled around the office a bit, and found a blue folder sitting on a keyboard; he grabbed it in his hand and read it to himself as the rain pelted the window near him.

"Patient Billy Hope remains the only successful subject of the morphogenic engine. Subject Edward Gluskin has escaped, evidently hiding in some crevice of the facility that we do not have eyes. The place is going to hell anyways. The cogs are groaning. Straining. I fear a breakdown is close. A complete injection of the mad brew we're making, and when that happens, anarchy alone will rule the day here at Mount Massive...and if unchecked...maybe the rest of the state. The country? Dare I say, the world?"

The name was torn off with the very top of the paper, and similar reports all bore different names. Now, other questions, perhaps of an equally sinister nature, smaller pieces of the large puzzle called Walrider, were appearing. Who is Billy Hope? Is he still around? And what exactly is the Morphogenic Engine?

Fred kept a hold on the blue folder, and also found a battery in a desk drawer, but his searches yielded little else. He met back up with Daphne and Scooby just as Velma was returning.

"I found another clue," Fred reported.

"Another report?" Daphne asked.

"Yeah. It's from one of the staff members hear, and it sounds like some pretty interesting, not to mention illegal and inhumane occurrences were going on before whatever breakdown caused this. The report mentions a key patient of the asylum, a Billy Hope. See or hear anything about him?"

The girls and Scooby all shook their heads, and Fred glanced over his shoulder before looking down at the folder again.

"What about something called a morphogenic engine?"

Again, the shaking of heads and the air of mystery that grew wider, and more menacing, with each passing second. Another scream from down the hall.

"In any case," Daphne spoke up, "Scooby told me what happened: Shaggy was captured by something big and...strong…"

The look on her face, the one that dug under her skin and poisoned her brain with fear, was unmistakable.

"He said it was large, menacing...mentioned a little pig...and threw Shaggy down here."

She gestured over to several shards of broken glass, and a hole in the barrier above. Something fell, and if it was Shaggy, he was going to be down for a little while. Another scream, this one louder, unmistakably louder.

"That's not a lot to go on," Fred said, "We should make a plan, I'll-"

The power shut off without warning and all the lights went out, making the thunder and lightning outside the only source of comfort until Velma pulled out the glow stick. Fred handed her the blue folder and brought up his camcorder. The backup lights, it seemed, were not coming to life.

"New plan," he told them, "We stay together, and we find the power. If we find Shaggy before then, even better. But we won't last hardly as long in the dark, especially with whatever monster found Shaggy."

"I think I know where we might find the power," Velma told them, "if I read the map correctly."

Shaggy awoke locked in a security room. He found a flashlight, three batteries, and a note on the floor beside him. He rubbed his head and flicked the light to life, using it to read the note.

"Yes. Surely you are my prophet, sent to me by the Great Spirit himself. Praise be. I must show you his work. I must reveal his mysteries to you. Only you can do this. Be strong my son, be brave. Your labor has just begun, but by the end, you will see with enlightened eyes and a changed heart. I will be watching.

-Father Martin"

Shaggy's ears rung, but he was feeling much better now than when he awoke the first time. No sign of Scoob or the others. No idea where exactly he was. He picked up the batteries and left the note behind, wandering into the shadows of what he believed to be the deeper organs of the administration block.

He heard more than one scream of terror in the distance and was careful to stay out of the main walkways as much as possible. Dead bodies everywhere. It was too much, too real to be true. Had he died? Was this what the afterlife was for him? A bleak, never ending nightmare? A reflection of the culmination of all the horrors of his life?

He wandered into an electronic room and found a dead computer system. He tried several buttons and switches, but no combination seemed to breathe life back into the system. He gulped as he heard loud footprints behind the glass, sounding out in the halls.

He ducked down and flipped off the flashlight, sitting under the glass as the hulking monster that threw him down earlier passed by, sniffing the air like a hellhound.

Shaggy heard him mutter something about "little piggies" having "gone amok". He waited several minutes before picking himself up, knowing that he had to get out. This was the problem, however, because the way out was always guarded by some monster, some figment of terror. Except Shaggy wasn't used to it all being so...very real. Nor was he so used to being as isolated as he felt.

The map on the wall noted that the two starters to kick the system back to life, in other words, a way to open up the main doors and escape, were located in the sewers underneath the administration building. Something told him it was going to be a long trek down.

He found a blue folder, the word "CONFIDENTIAL" stamped onto the cover in red ink. He flipped through it and found one paper that stuck out to him, for some reason. Upon taking it out, he found a picture of the monster that attacked him, and he nearly jumped out the glass with shock.

Nerving himself, Shaggy looked down closely at the paper and the picture, and read it through.

"Variant Subject 1713: Chris Walker. Former Military Police in the U. S. Army, diagnosed with schizophrenia in 2003, placed in Mount Massive 2007. Tests with the Morphogenic Engine have rendered him, as with many others, a complete failure. He, however, has shown a more violent and sadistic nature than most other failures. A watchful eye, and a loaded gun, are wise to keep around him. Do not provoke. Do not engage if he escapes."

Shaggy heard the very man himself breaking down a door nearby and flipped of the flashlight with shaking hands. He knew the only escape was out the door and into the maw of danger, but he could not force himself to move from the relative shelter of the office.

He knew this was a terrible idea.