Oh my goodness, guys . . . The Outlast: Whistleblower trailer was released a couple days ago! If you haven't seen it already, hop to it! I'm not ashamed to admit that I cringed at a certain part near the end, but the rest of the time I was smiling like an idiot as I enjoyed the delightful music playing in the background (when you watch the trailer, you'll know what I mean).

I do not own Mount Massive Asylum or Dr. Trager. They belong to Red Barrels. I do, however, own Simon and Sebastian. Enjoy!

"Are we in the right place?" Sebastian asked quietly.

He and Simon were standing side by side, cloaked in the darkness the stairwell provided. In front of them was a wrought-iron door. It had taken about forty-five minutes to get out of the sewer after their encounter with what Simon could only assume was the Walrider. After regaining their bearings, the two men had continued through the sewer tunnels until finding some stairs that led up to the Male Ward. From there, Simon led them to the location they were at now.

And it was safe to say that neither man was happy to be there.

Simon nodded to the other man as he peered through the square gaps in the door. To his left, he could barely make out an overturned bed in the darkness. He looked to his right and saw pale yellow lighting coming from a room that was separated by another wrought-iron door and a cart.

Yes, they were definitely in the right place; Simon had passed through this area many times and recognized that he and Sebastian were, essentially, at the heart of Dr. Trager's place of operations.

"Yeah. We're here," Simon replied.

"Goody. Never been so upset to reach my destination before," muttered Sebastian. Simon could tell that his companion was putting on a tough façade. It was in the very man's nature to be tough. But as Simon watched him, the man only seemed to show silent terror. Coming here and committing this insane task was made easier with the thought of having a, for lack of a better term, badass by his side. Throughout their less than savory journey to the Male Ward, the other man had seemed confident and nonchalant about the whole affair, and that confidence embed from him and into Simon. Now that they were finally here, that confidence and bravado had decreased drastically.

Simon was most certainly not the poster boy for bravery—more like the one for pushover—but he knew that he at least had to restore some of the lost confidence. By no means was he a great motivator, but he could at least try to lighten the mood.

"This whole thing is insane," he said. He heard the other man scoff.

"Yeah, no shit," Sebastian murmured.

Simon hesitated before continuing. "You know, I saw the kitchen as we passed by. How about after we're done with this, you and me go and get some real food? My treat," Simon said good-humoredly. This got a start from Sebastian.

"What are you on about?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. His voice no longer trembled when he spoke, and Simon celebrated his small victory.

Simon shrugged. "I'm just saying that after this we should relax. I think we deserve at least that much after this is over. Don't you?"

"Yeah . . . I s'pose we do. An' afterwards we can go to the Employee's Lounge and watch T.V. while we shoot some pool," Sebastian chuckled.

"Now there's an idea. Maybe we could invite the priest. I bet he's a real party animal," Simon responded with a cheeky smile. What had gotten into him? Simon Poleski, the usually uptight and timid introvert, was behaving like a care-free socialite. Fear really did affect people in the strangest of ways . . . but his plan did what it was intended to do, and Sebastian let out a small chuckle and shook his head.

"You're an odd one, Simon," he said. He looked back to the door and let out a short breath. "You ready for this?"

Simon glanced to the door again. "Ready as I'll ever be. Just when I thought I was rid of this place . . ."

"Hey man, hopefully this will be the last time. I'm sure as shit not comin' back here again." And with that, Sebastian grabbed the handle and slowly opened the door. Fortunately, the door did not make a loud noise upon its opening, and Simon wondered if it was a good omen.

Sebastian turned back to Simon. "I hate to do this to ya man, but I don't really know my way 'round here," he said.

Simon nodded and, after gathering his wits, stepped through the door and out into the dark hallway. Sebastian closed the door gently behind them and both men crept to the corner of the hallway. Simon stopped short of the light coming from the elevator room and peered over the metal cart blocking the door to see if the doctor was lurking there. He saw no one, but his heart did skip a beat when he observed the red smudges trailing from the elevator and around the corner to the next hallway.

Had that been there before? No. Simon would have remembered if it was. It seemed the doctor had been very busy since his leave of absence.

There might not be anyone on this floor left to save . . . he thought.

"Is he there?" Sebastian whispered from behind.

Simon tore his eyes away from the blood trail and carefully looked around the corner. The hall was dim, with a light at the end. There was no one in sight.

"It looks clear," whispered Simon, turning back to face Sebastian. "We need to be quick, and we need to be quiet."

"Don't gotta tell me twice," Sebastian murmured. He stepped past Simon and peered around the corner before slowly walking down the hall. Simon, grateful he was no longer leading, followed close on his tail.

"First room on your left," said Simon. As they crept forward, Simon's eyes stayed on the door leading to Trager's "office." He kept thinking the door would open any second, and he didn't even realize he was pushing into Sebastian's back, trying to hurry them up.

"Geez, I'm goin', I'm goin'," muttered the other man. They quickly shuffled into the room and Simon wasted no time in closing the doors behind them. He inwardly groaned when he realized that only one of the double doors remained.

"Jesus Christ . . ." he heard Sebastian say. Simon turned and saw Sebastian several feet in front of him, staring at the few men that were occupying the room. The last time Simon had been here, the room was packed with agonized patients. Now, only several remained.

"The fuckin' animal . . ." Sebastian spoke again. "The priest was right."

Simon hesitantly put his hand on Sebastian's shoulder, and wasn't surprised when the other man jerked away.

"We gotta get these guys out," Sebastian said determinedly as he strode towards the nearest patient. Simon followed suit and walked over to the patient on the opposite side of the room.

The man tied to the bed started at Simon's arrival. "No! Don't touch me!" the patient rasped.

Simon brought his hands up in front of him. "Shhh! Please calm down. I'm not here to take you to Trager,"

"Lies! You want to fuck me up you—you motherfucker!" The patient cried out as he began struggling. Simon was frozen in place, desperately trying to quiet the patient.

"Hey, tell 'im to shut the hell up over there," hissed Sebastian.

Simon knew it was a lost cause trying to calm the patient and began undoing the bonds holding him to the bed. He was having considerable trouble because the fingers on his right hand were not able to function properly; all the while the patient was kicking and screaming.

"God damnit, move!" Simon was pushed away as Sebastian took over. Simon stood back and watched as the other man walked right up to the patient, leaned over him, and gave him a sharp slap to the face. Simon almost thought that the man had been knocked out, but was proven wrong when he heard whimpers coming from him.

"Shut your goddamned mouth," growled at the man. "Yer gonna alert the doctor. You want 'im to come in here and find ya, or do you wanna get the hell out? Your choice, man."

The patient was still whimpering as Sebastian knelt down and began undoing the ties. "Go over to that guy. I got one of 'em undone already."

Simon nodded and hurried over to the patient. If the doctor had heard that whole fiasco, then they had only minutes—if they were lucky—to finish untying these men. That wasn't even counting time to hide or time to escape. As he fumbled with the knots, Simon knew that this whole thing was futile. Even if they did manage to free these patients, there was no telling if the doctor would be waiting for them outside. Still, he clung onto the small hope that things would turn out right.

It was a hope that was dying fast.

Dr. Trager collapsed in his chair, completely spent. He was currently in his office. For the past several hours he had been operating on his patients. Simon had been lying to him about their conditions for a long time; when he had gone to inspect the patients on this floor, he was astounded by how bad of shape they were all in. If any of them were going to survive, he had to operate immediately. And so he did, bringing patients one by one down to the basement and removing whatever body part was causing their ailment.

He had worked tirelessly, sawing through muscle and bone to remove the infected limbs. And did anyone thank him for his hard work? No! Not even once! All those ungrateful parasites cried and whined, and Trager was sick and tired of their lack of appreciation. One of his patients even tried to bite him! The doctor had to put him in his place. Admittedly, removing the man's head might have been going a bit too far, but in Trager's defense the lunatic had it coming. Despite that little slip-up, the other patients had survived, and Trager suspected that at least half of them would make a full recovery. That was a win in his book.

He leaned back in his chair and sighed contently. His back ached, and his hands cramped from holding onto all those surgical tools for such an extended period of time, but he was quite proud of the work he accomplished.

"Hmm, hmm, hmm. I don't need that sniveling worm's help!" Trager said to himself. "I got more done without him muddling things up. I should have fired him days ago!"

Once again, he sighed contentedly and closed his bloodshot eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept. Actually, he couldn't remember much of the past week. But he was fairly certain he had not been getting his recommended eight hours. His shoulders slumped, and he allowed himself to sink down into the chair, and leaned his head against the back. There was a complete stillness around him as he sat in his dark office. Most of the patients on this floor had been relocated to the basement; the screams that usually carried through the halls had completely stopped. This was the perfect time for rest.

The doctor took a deep breath, exhaled, and he began to drift away from reality.

. . .

. . .

And then the silence was broken by the whales of one of the patients.

Trager's eyes shot open and he lurched forward in his chair. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" he growled as he stood up. "The one time! The one time I try to get some well-needed rest, and you pull this shit!" He stomped on the ground as he shouted at the door. He raked his bony hand down his forehead and over his face as he attempted to compose himself. Through his fingers he looked to the bone shears laid out on his desk. He removed his hand from his face and snatched them up. After stretching out his shoulders and cracking his neck, he turned and jerked open the door leading to the hallway.

Simon stopped what he was doing and looked to the doorway. Call him paranoid, but he was sure he heard the sound of a door opening.

"We need to hide! Right now!" Simon hissed over to Sebastian. The other man just got done loosening the strap around the patient's ankle when he turned to give Simon a questioning look. Simon motioned with his hands manically and mouthed the word 'hide.'

Fortunately, Sebastian caught on and mouthed back 'Where?'

"What? NO! Untie me! Untie me, you son of a bitch!" the patient screamed as he began shaking the bed.

Simon looked around the room. He spotted a bed in the corner of the room and darted for it. He slid under the bed quickly, and watched as Sebastian did the same under the patient's bed.

Just in time, too.

Simon heard a loud gasp followed by panicked screaming and looked to the doorway to see a pair of feet coming out from under a black apron. Immediately Simon clamped his hand over his mouth as he watched the feet stride into the room. His heart pounded in his chest as they made their way to the patient. Simon then looked to where Sebastian lay completely still, face up under the bed. Luckily for his sake, he was hidden in shadow; it was doubtful the doctor would see him from where he was currently standing, which was right next to the bed.

He heard a tired sigh. "Mind telling me what the problem is here? I was in the middle of something very important," Trager said to the patient, who was still crying. Again, another sigh. "Who were you talking to?"

Oh no . . .

The patient only responded with more whimpering.

"Oh come on now, you can confide in me," the doctor said in his false tone. Simon watched on in horror, waiting for the patient to rat them out. But words never came. The silence lasted another ten seconds before the doctor spoke again.

"Hmm. What have we here?" said Trager, and Simon saw him slightly bend next to the end of the patient's bed. "Now how did this happen?"

"I—I don't know!" rasped the patient.

"Yes you do. Now spit it out and tell me who you were talking to!" growled the doctor.

Simon's body tensed and he began looking for an exit. If the patient blabbed on him and Sebastian, he would need an escape plan. In front of him was a door that led to the next room. To his right was a door that he thought led to a bathroom. And of course, the door leading out into the hall.

His attention went back to the patient when he heard the sound of metal against metal. And then three things happened almost simultaneously: One, Simon heard a sick wet sound. Two, he heard the patient scream in agony. And three, he saw Sebastian scramble out from under the bed, clutching his chest.

No!

Simon watched on in disbelief as he saw Sebastian's legs shuffling backwards away from the bed.

"What? Who the hell are you?" Trager asked.

Sebastian passed Simon's hiding spot as he inched towards the door. "Me? I'm gettin' the fuck outta here," Sebastian said smugly.

"Oh is that so? Ha! I wouldn't count on it, buddy," Trager let out an amused chuckle as he jerked the shears from the dead patient's chest.

Sebastian moved closer to the door. "Try an' stop me, fuck-face!" he yelled as he wrenched the door open and took off into the other room.

"Hey! Wait up! I wasn't finished yet!" shouted Trager as he turned and trotted to the main door and out into the hallway.

As soon as the doctor was out of the room, Simon crawled out from underneath the bed. Without hesitation, he went over and began untying the patient.

"Please, hurry!" ushered the man in the bed. "You don't know what he's been doin' to us. Ever since you left, he's been picking us off like flies! You gotta help us!"

Simon managed to loosen one of the knots and the patient was able to free his hand. "I'm trying to," Simon said as he got to work on the rope around the man's other wrist. "Go out that door and to the right—there's a hallway with a door that leads down a flight of stairs. Do you know how to get to the chapel from here?" Simon asked as he undid another knot around the patient's ankle.

The patient nodded. "Thank you! Oh God, thank you!"

Simon remained focused on his task, but he felt his pride swell at the man's gratitude. "You're welcome. Just go to the chapel, and you should be safe," Simon said as he undid the final knot. The patient jumped from the bed and, after giving Simon a quick nod, ran from the room.

Simon looked around the room. There was a man who was hooked up to some contraption that ran a metal rod through his leg, another man that didn't seem to have any mouth, and the man who Trager had just killed. He knew that the man in the leg contraption probably didn't have much of a chance, so Simon moved to the patient with no mouth and began the tedious process of undoing the knots.

As he worked, he couldn't help but wonder how Sebastian was doing; if he was safe, if he was hiding somewhere, or if he was dead. He prayed that it was one of the first two options. He also prayed that the doctor wouldn't decide to come back this way. After he freed this patient, he would go to the next room over and try to help some of those men out; not for the priest's wishes, but for himself. While he may not have physically abused them, he sure did nothing to help.

It was a mistake that he would atone for. Even if he lost his life in the proccess.