A/N: Thank you so much for the beautiful reviews and support! Hope my story continues to please you!

Welcome all and any new readers!

My entire body was on fire.

I felt my bones crack with every blow as I was swung back and forth like a pendulum.

Yet, I couldn't scream, not with the chain around my neck crushing my trachea.

"Y'know, I was an avid golfer, once upon a time. Yet, I believe baseball might be my true talent!" And Trager whacked my ribs with a metal pipe and blood spewed from my mouth. "What's the matter, Stumpy? Can't scream?"

He yanked the chain harder, constricting my windpipe further and causing me to choke on my blood.

I kicked my legs in protest and desperately grasped onto the chain around my neck, unheard cries and screams plastered on my lips.

"Tell me, Stumpy," Trager vocalized, catching my leg as I swung back towards him. "How did you lose your arm anyways? C'mon, indulge your doctor."

'How the fuck do you expect me to answer when I can barely breathe?!'

I tried to answer him, but all that came out of my mouth was blood, some which splattered across his surgical mask.

"Hmm, not talking huh? Guess I'll have to draw it out of you." And he started whacking my body again, this time hitting my sternum.

My eyes widened as another wave of blood flooded my mouth and I frantically tried to answer the bastard, but I couldn't.

So I mouthed it over and over, praying he would take the hint.

"What's this?" He grabbed my leg again and stared at my blood stained lips with a hard gaze. "….Walrider? The Walrider took your arm?"

I nodded, my tears increasing as the chain started to break through my skin.

'I answered your fucking question! Now let me go!'

Trager started to laugh and twirled me around.

"Wow, Stumpy, you meet the Walrider and just get off with a missing arm? What did you do? Indulged an intrigued scientist."

As he twirled me faster and faster, the chain dug deeper and deeper until blood trickled down my fingers.

I racked my brain for any possible answer, any possible reason for Billy's assault, but only one thing came to mind and I silently screamed it out for Trager.

"Hmm?" He jerked me to a stop and stared at my lips again. "….'He called me Mother?'"

I nodded, feeling my consciousness start to slip away from the lack of oxygen.

"Ha!" Trager barked, putting the, now bloody, metal pipe down. "How bittersweet. That Billy kid cries for his mother every single day, and then he mistakes the first woman he sees as her. Of course, the idiot hates her for not rescuing him, yet he still spares his 'mother's' life when she finally comes for him. How perfect!'

As Trager explained Billy's reasoning, I found myself feeling sorry for him.

Not entirely though.

No, my anger was too great for complete pity and forgiveness now.

"We were bleeding money after that little shit started controlling his lucid dreams. Luckily, I was able to…cut back on staff to save us from going into bankruptcy."

'What? Was this guy a former Murkoff employee?'

"Let this be a lesson to you, Stumpy. Money is everything." Then, he turned back to his 'operation' cart and sorted through the various tools. "Anyhoo~ now that I've relieved some stress, let's move onto phase two."

'P-phase two?!'

"There is a huge market for organs—reproductive organs, especially. And who better to become the means of production than the consumers themselves? So," Trager turned around, brandishing a large bone saw. "how 'bout we look at that uterus of yours?"

'No! No! NO! NOOOO!' I flailed against Trager's grip, but froze the moment he placed the tip of the saw against my abdomen.

"I would like to make a straight line, so please refrain from moving. Don't want to give you any unnecessary injuries after all~."

I was too focused on the gigantic blade poking my skin to pay any mind to his jabs.

"There's a good girl. Now, hold still."

'OhGodnoohGodnoohGodnoohGodno.'

Trager pressed the tip harder against my skin and I squeezed my eyes shut, awaiting the unspeaking pain that awaited me.

…But it never happened.

Instead, Trager cut the chain and I plummeted to the ground, ripping the wretched thing off my neck and throwing up the blood clogging my throat.

Every breath I took was like nails digging in my throat, and my body was so horribly bruised and beaten that I could barely move.

Mustering up all my strength, I gazed up at Trager to find him staring intently at the doorway.

Like he could hear something.

"It seems another patient has arrived." Trager smiled, placing the saw back on the cart and walking towards the door. "Don't worry, Stumpy. I'll be back to give you attention as soon as I greet my new client."

He opened the door, and the light from the hallway burned my eyes.

"I would say don't go anywhere, but in your case, I don't think that'll be a problem." He laughed, as if that was the funniest thing in the entire fucking world. "Until then, try not to die, Stumpy. Living brains are more interesting to dissect than dead ones."

And with that, he slammed the door behind him and I was left to suffer in the darkness, alone.

(Miles)

'Fuck, fuck, fuck!' I hurdled over a stack of chairs, hearing the two Variants' screams echo behind me.

"You slippery little whore!"

I had just found my way out of the sewer and out of Chris Walker's clutches, only to end up in someone else's.

Heart pounding in my ears, I hurried down the hallway with a death grip on my camcorder.

"You can't hide!"

The voices were getting closer, and it was times like these when I wish I had something to protect myself with.

Veering to the right, I climbed on top of a desk and hopped over a barred doorway, figuring that would buy me a moment or two.

That hope was ripped to shreds when the two Variants started hacking at the door with axes.

'Shit!'

I raced through an empty break room and down a dark hallway, spotting a light coming from a far left door.

Scurrying inside and slamming the door behind me, I nearly crapped myself when a voice rang out from a speaker on the other side of the room.

"Who's down there? You're not one of them, are you? Quick! Get in the dumbwaiter if you want to live!"

For a brief millisecond, I was going to tell my 'savoir' to go fuck himself, but the door busted open behind me and I figured whatever was up there couldn't be worse than what was down here.

Quickly, I climbed into the tiny space and slammed the gate down behind me.

The dumbwaiter buzzed to life and slowly ascended up to the next floor.

And, like the idiot I was, I allowed myself to relax and lean against the vibrating wall of the lift.

I didn't know what to expect when the lift reached its destination, but I hoped whatever was waiting for me on the next floor was something I could outrun.

The lift eventually slowed to a stop and I opened my eyes to see my 'savior'.

And the moment I laid my eyes on him, I knew I was fucked.

"You made the right choice here, Buddy."

Before I could move a muscle, his fist connected with my temple, stunning me, before beating me into the ground until I could barely feel a thing.

My vision hazy, I rolled onto my back to face my assaulter and was mildly disturbed to see something flash across his eyes.

"Hey, you're that little shit priest's guy, aren't you?" He said with a light laugh before getting down on one knee, heaving a sigh. "His…witness or whatever. You must be exhausted. Let's take a break, huh, buddy? The old two martini lunch, have a little confab."

Maybe I was better of letting those guys downstairs hack me to pieces.

He lifted me by the front of my jacket before tossing me over his shoulder and throwing me onto a wheelchair like a ragdoll.

"Oof! Heavier than you look! A little cardio wouldn't kill you."

Its official, this guy is a piece of shit.

My head was killing me and I could barely see straight as the fucker strapped me in to the wheelchair.

'Like I can do anything in this state, so why bother…'

"Okay. Here we go. Arms and legs inside the car at all times." He chuckled, patting my legs before getting up and wheeling me out of the room.

It might have been my jumbled brain, but I swore I heard the fuckface mutter "You've gotten taller" under this breath.

As he wheeled me down the hallway, I forced my body to move, to struggle, to do anything but sit there!

But my body was unresponsive and I bit my lip at the thought of how utterly fucked I was.

'Maybe Chris Walker will come blasting through the wall and fight this guy so I can use the distraction to wheel myself away…'

Fat chance of that happening.

As we approached an elevator, my vision started to stabilize.

"Y'know, I love the mountain air up here." He turned the wheelchair towards the end of the hallway and I saw the exit door, leading to a raging storm outside. "You want to head out, take a stroll? Go on, I'll wait here. Go on! Run free!"

'Oh, you fucker…' I curled my hands into fists and glared at the bastard, wanting nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face.

"No? Alright." He shrugged and moved behind me, pulling me into the elevator and away from the chance at freedom. "Nose to the grindstone, I like that. Right this way then." He laughed and pushed the up arrow, crossing his hands behind his back as the elevator ascended.

Now that my head was clear, I got a good look at my captor.

He was a walking bag of skin and bones with some strange contraption on his left arm that appeared to be some type of transfusion drip and had freakishly long nails.

Is he a patient then? …..No, his manner of speaking proves he still has a grasp on reality, unlike the others.

And he had a monocle attached to his eyes along with a tattered surgical mask.

'A surgical mask? Then,….was he one of the asylum's doctors?'

My musings were cut short when the elevator stopped and I was pushed out into the adjacent room.

A trail of blood was smeared down the hallway, and I could hear people screaming in the distance.

"Kill me….Kill me!...KILL MEEE!"

'Oh fuck…..'

We turned a corner, and I felt my blood ice over at the sight of a man tied to a hospital bed, his mouth sewn shut and blood soaked into the mattress beneath him.

"Shhh, shhh!" The bastard pointed at the man like a reprimanding parent. "You weren't putting that tongue to any use anyways." Then, he leaned forward and whispered into my ear, "Truth be told, I was just tired of licking my own stamps."

My mouth went dry as I realized what his man 'did for a living'.

'I am so fucked right now…'

He wheeled me into a dark room that reeked of decaying flesh, humming a "Here we are then" as he closed the door behind us.

Slowly, the light flickered on and I found myself wishing he kept them off.

The floor and walls were covered in blood and human remains; some were still fresh out of the body too.

"Thanks so much for coming by. We'll begin your consultation in a moment. I'll just need a second to wash up…" He trailed off as he picked up my camcorder. "Oh! Home movies!"

"Hey!" I shouted, finally breaking my silence. "Give that back!"

"And he speaks!" The 'surgeon' laughed. "Well, since you have this, it will give us a chance to talk." He did this director's pose before placing it on the sink counter and washing his hands.

"Talk about what exactly?"

"Oh, y'know, the usual." He hummed, shutting the water off and drying his hands on his apron. "The weather, golf scores, what you are doing here?" The 'surgeon' whirled around and crossed his arms with this shit-eating smirk on his face. "Looking for anyone, perhaps?"

My thoughts immediately went to Young-ja, but I just glared at him and shook my head.

"No, I'm a journalist. Last night, I received a tip that fucked up things were happening here, decided to come check it out."

"And are 'fucked up things' happening here, Buddy?"

"You tell me, 'surgeon'. I'm not the one ripping people's tongues out."

"Touché, and what do you plan on doing with this information, Mr. Reporter?"

"I'm going to send it to the press and burn Murkoff to the fucking ground." My tone was even, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I felt like I've seen this guy before.

The 'surgeon' chuckled and shook his head before walking over to a rolling cart.

A rolling cart with saws and knives on it.

"You wanna know the mistake you're making here, Buddy? You think you will find the truth, you think you will uncover something, and everything will just," He strolled back over to me with a bone saw in his hand and placed it against my neck, "fall into place."

"What do you mean by mistake?" I gulped, not moving a muscle. "I WILL uncover the truth and everyone will know about the unspeakable horrors going on in this shithole!"

"Oh?" He backed away and went over to the cart again. "So, you have some grand revelation that will make sense of all these 'unspeakable horrors', that'll explain that could drive men to such creative extremes of inhumanity." He came back another bone saw, placing it against my wrist like he was measuring whether it was sharp enough to do the job.

Just as I was about to retort, he grabbed my left hand and examined it closely.

"What the fuck are you-?!"

"You a married man, Buddy?" His tone was flat, but I felt some ulterior motive underneath it that gave me the chills.

"…..What's it to you?"

"Oh, nothing. Just thought a strapping man such as yourself would have a girl back home. Some cute, little thing with soft skin and big, brown eyes that drive men wild."

My stomach lurched as he basically described Young-ja.

"….No, but," I leaned forward and stared into his gray eyes, trying to decipher any secrets he might have, "would you have happened to find someone like that?"

The 'surgeon' just smirked and shook his head.

"I thought you were a journalist, Buddy. You should know Mount Massive Asylum doesn't have any female patients."

I leered at his back as he waltzed back towards the cart, a shard of doubt still lingering in my brain.

"…Yeah. I know that. And I also know you Murkoff fuckers have been experimenting on mentally ill patients for the sake of some experiment—an experiment that got out of your control and damned everyone in this asylum to Hell!"

The bastard just stared at me for a moment before sighing and shaking his head.

"I hate to be the one to break the bad news, but even if you think you understand what's happening here, you're only going to be halfway down the rabbit hole!"

"I don't need to go all the way," I lifted my chin, daring him to one-up me. "I just need enough to take Murkoff down and expose the truth."

"Oh, Buddy!" He slammed his palms on the cart, making me jump. "Don't you understand?! It's always been the case that whoever's holding the money gets to say what the truth is! But then, THEN, what happens when all the money is gone? When everything is based on debt? On credit?" After posing that random question, the 'surgeon' walked over to one of the urinals on the wall and pulled out a pair of bone shears.

"Uh…" I trailed off, watching him clean the fucking huge thing off with his apron.

'Put it back, put it back. Please! Put it back!'

"C'mon, Buddy!" The 'surgeon' whined, looked over at me. "You can guess this one."

I didn't say anything, just continued to stare at the bone shears in his hands.

When he realized he wasn't getting an answer, the 'surgeon' sighed with a small grin on his face.

"It's…faith! Money is a matter of faith! Take note of this, Reporter, all we ever were trying to do was sell you the dream. But you can't make a deal if you got nothing to barter with! You got to be inside the dream to buy it, you. got. to. have. faith." Then he lifted the 'polished' shears up to the light. "And that's what I'm here for."

My heart dropped to the floor as he waltzed back towards me with the shears, snipping them slowly. "To make you…BELIEVE."

"Oh God no..!" I tried to pull my wrist away but he snatched it into his hand and brought the shears down and-

"Nonononono-AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

I tossed my head back as a crunch echoed throughout the room and it felt like my hands were being ripped to shreds.

FUCK FUCK FUCK MY FINGERS! HE CHOPPING OFF MY FINGERS!

"You paying attention!?" The 'surgeon' taunted, smacking me across the face with this sick grin. "Don't pass out on me! There's still lots for you to absorb!"

In my hazy vision, I saw him reach towards my left hand and I immediately curled my fingers in a feeble attempt to protect them, but Trager simply laughed and forcibly uncurled them before once again-.

"AAAAAHHHHHH!" Another crunch was heard and it took all of my willpower to not pass out then and there from the excruciating pain tearing through my hands.

"FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!"

"Feeling better now?" The 'surgeon' smirked, waving my detached fingers in front of my face before tossing them onto the cart. "Do you understand what we achieved here? We made the consumer into the means of production. This thing is going to sell itself!"

He wheeled the cart towards the door, but before opening it, he leaned over and patted my cheek.

"And as payment, why don't I bring a surprise over for you? I'm sure you'll love it!"

Then he laughed once more and left the room.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to catch my breath and ride out the shocks of pain.

Then, gradually, I opened my eyes and looked down.

I could barely recognize my own voice as I realized the extent of the damage that fucker did to me. My sleeves were covered in blood and fractured bone stuck out from where my fingers were sliced off.

My right index and left ring finger were gone.

My fingers were gone.

My fingers were gone!

MY MOTHERFUCKING FINGERS WERE GONE!

"I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!" I began struggling against my restraints, using my blood stained wrists as a lubricant until they finally slipped out.

I slowly rose to my feet, swaying unsteadily on my feet until I fell forward and grasped the sink for support.

The stench of my own blood invaded my senses and the shock of losing my fingers so violently flooded my brain until I couldn't take it anymore.

My throat burned as I threw up what little dinner was still in my stomach, the convulsions rocking my body until there was nothing left but dry heaves.

Once my stomach calmed down, I leaned against the sink and tried to come to terms with what just happened.

'Fucker just ripped my fingers off!... And he will be back with some kind of surprise; I'm not sticking around to find out what it is.'

Still panting, I reached out and grabbed my camcorder off the counter, not knowing whether to be happy or disgusted that it recorded me.

Covering my face, I took a few deep breathes, telling myself to get it together.

'You've come too fucking far to die here, Miles. And you got to find Young-ja before that sick fucker get his hands on her.'

That thought alone brought me to my senses, and with a sharp breath, I pushed myself away from the sink and towards the door.

(Young-ja)

I didn't realize I'd fallen asleep until I awoke to Trager nudging my cheek with his foot.

"Wakey wakey, Stumpy~!" His cheerful greeting made my blood boil, but I was too weak to do or say anything. "Cat got your tongue? How rude! Especially after I went through the trouble of bringing you a present."

He crouched down next to me and shoved a pair of blooded fingers into my face, causing me to screw my eyes shut and face away from the gruesome sight.

"Y'know," He mumbled, poking me with the appendages. "You're hubby has quite the potty mouth."

And those words, my eyes shot open and it felt like someone just ripped my heart out.

'WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!' I mouthed and reached out to grab his arm, not caring if it sent searing pain down my arm. 'WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY HUSBAND?!'

"Well,…why don't we go and find out?"

And with that, he snatched my arm up and began dragging my body out of the room.

' Miles…' I cried, my tears like acid against my injuries. 'I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you….'

A/N: I changed Trager's monologue to the one from the Xbox Outlast trailer. Lots of pain in this chapter. Will Young-ja be able to speak again? What will happen to Miles and Young-ja now? Look forward to the next chapter!