Waylon and I hung out by the stairwell for a while. I'd told him every story, every memory I had of when I didn't feel like I had nothing to live for.

"I recognized that song."

"What song?"

"When I was a boy, my mother often said to me… hmm, hmm… that one." I hummed it out. I wasn't that great of a singer.

"Oh."

"He'd always sing it at least once when he was sewing. The more and more they put him through the Morphogenic Engine, the more he stopped making regular clothes. You know, like gloves and shirts. Stuff like that."

"Mhm." The technician nodded, still once and a while wincing at the pain his foot caused him.

"Instead, he was making vests and dresses. Wedding dresses. I saw him losing himself. All they made him do in therapy was talk about his relatives. What they did to him… And that doesn't even compare to what they made him experience when he was actually in the Engine. It's just… it's hard to see someone you care about so much go downhill like that."

"I…" Waylon seemed distant; hesitant. Like he wasn't telling me something that I should know.

"Yeah…?"

He sighed, "Before I got dropped into this hell… I was trying to configure some computers to work with an ASL unit. Uh… I don't think you'd know what that means."

"I understand enough."

"Ok, well… the patient they brought into the chambers was… uneasy, to say the least. He was fighting the security, kicking, screaming."

All I could do was nod. Where was he going with this?

"He wouldn't stop screaming, and the one thing I remember him screaming was something about rape? I don't… I don't know where that came from but…"

I cocked my head to the side.

"Anyways, he broke loose of the security personnel, and he rammed into the glass, right where I was working on the computers. I remember him begging me for help. He knew I could stop the communication between the computers and the Engine… but I didn't help him."

"Where the fuck are you going with this, Park?"

"I-I'm sorry, I wouldn't save him… and I feel like shit."

"You're talking nonsense."

"You don't understand. It was right before the prison break." His voice progressively got more upset and frustrated. "Tell me who was the last person in line for testing before that."

The realization hit me like a knife to the back.

I saw Eddie pass my cell on his way to a Morphogenic Therapy session, lead by who guards who held his arms behind his back. I reached out to him through the bars. I never liked to see him leave, and now that I was relocated, I got to see it happen every time. Fucking Murkoff. "Eddie!"

He looked over his shoulder."I'll only be a moment, Darling. No worries!" He brushed it off for my sake, but I saw his face and his sanity become worse and worse after every session. I never cried once until they stuck me down there. I got to hear the sounds of the Engine turning on and off. I got to hear the screams of all the patients entering the chambers. I got to hear the door click and lock behind them.

I got to hear my only fucking friend begging for help and screaming rape through the thin walls of my cell. They were thin on purpose. They were built to punish the ears.

What I couldn't hear was Waylon typing away at his fucking keyboard, setting people up for insanity.

I closed my eyes. "…Give me one reason why I shouldn't rip you in half right now."

"I'm sorry."

"Give me a fucking reason, Park!" I tackled him suddenly, but he had no response.

"I know it's bad. It's real bad. I am so sorry."

"You bet your ass it's bad. I should break your only good foot, you piece of shit." I felt a lump forming in the back of my throat.

"I know you're mad, but we don't have time-"

"Mad? I'm fucking raging!" I heard my voice break. I'm going to lose it. "I hate you! I hate you, you lying son of a bitch! You filthy piece of shit! I hate you, I hate you! I... I h-hate you…" My muscles declined eventually and I fell into Waylon as a crying mess. "I hate you, damn it, I hate you…"

"I'm sorry," He whispered to me, "I'm so sorry."

"N-no," I said, wiping the water from the corners of my eyes. "I keep blaming you for shit that isn't your fault. This is Murkoff's fault. A-all of it is Murkoff's fault."

"I know it is… and I promised you that I was going to show the world how fucked this place is."

I was content in thinking of the Murkoff Corporation crumbling and burning.

I heard Waylon sigh again. "Now… get off of me and tell me more of those stories."

I sniffed, sat beside him on the concrete floor, and blinked the tears from my eyes. "Don't think this means I like you now."

He laughed. "Of course not, Darling." He laughed some more.

"Hey, don't fucking call me that."

His chuckles died down. "Sorry."

"We should probably get going. It's getting late."

"Mm."

So I helped him up and lead him to the right. We were back in the Vocational Block. There were finally some vents that we could climb through in the kitchen. They lead to the gymnasium. They didn't really go very far. I let Waylon lead the way. I was too busy examining the guy lodged in the vent to care. I bumped into the techie and realized that as he was crawling he had gone completely still.

"What is it? Waylon? Is someone there?"

He wouldn't talk to me.

"Well fine, at least get out of the vent so I can see what you're crying about."

He hopped out, not setting down his camera for one moment. I slowly peeked out of the hole and the stench of iron and rot ran me over. I refused to breathe from my nose. I felt the heat leave my face when I looked up.

"Oh my god…" I whispered to myself. I felt lightheaded. I was going to throw up. This couldn't possibly be just Eddie. This wasn't Eddie at all. I refused to believe it. I mean there were literally at least a hundred bodies hanging from the ceiling.

"This guy has got to be fucking joking."

"Hey, don't think that this is him."

"Well are you seeing this?! Who else could it be?! Are you blind?! This could set a record for mass homicide! Do you even know how much jail time you would get for this?! Look up, man! I can't even find the ceiling!"

I knew it was Eddie. I just couldn't believe it. My mind wouldn't register it.

"But Eddie always told me how much he loved women."

"That doesn't justify this shit! He was making these men into women so he could kill them! If you look up and see the work of a man in love then you deserve to stay in this fucking asylum until you get your god damn priorities straight! This is crazy…"

I was about to pass out. "J-just keep walking. We can get out of here… It's ok."

AAAAAAlrighty then. I don't even. I can't. This part was kinda bad. I don't know I just kinda don't like it. I think tht the next chapter might be the last one, but I'm not sure.

-Hollow