click to enable night vision

▶

Outlast

On September 4th 2013, independent game development studio Red Barrels released its first title that took the survival horror genre by storm.
You think you’re gonna find the truth. You think you’ll uncover something, and everything will just... fall into place. Some grand revelation, that’ll make sense of all these unspeakable horrors. That’ll explain what could drive men to such creative extremes of inhumanity.
I hate to be the one to break the bad news, but even when you think you understand what’s happening here, you’re only gonna be halfway down the rabbit hole.
Upshore Without a Paddle

The decades-spanning history of the Murkoff Corporation does not start at the beginning, but right in sordid middle with the first game in the Outlast franchise taking place at the same time of its release: 2013. Our protagonist, Miles Upshur, is a freelance investigative journalist with a bone to pick with Murkoff, and he'll go to any lengths to ensure he will bring this beast down.

In its hayday Outlast was a tour de force of the horror scene. It didn't stop at simple shock value horror, such as gruesome mutilations, sexual violence, and various themes of abuse; but it sought to disturb with what I can only describe as insidious corporate violence. As the story unfolds you soon realize that what this frankly generic setting of an insane asylum full of violent patients really intends to do is to point the finger at the true villain: the institution itself. The patients are victims, and even as they are antagonists of the player there are many points throughout the experience where sympathy is extended for these vulnerable, abused and forsaken people.

Hell, the plot-driving intention of Miles, our protagonist, is to expose Murkoff's inhumane practices.

I didn't play it on release, but I did see a lot of the gameplay through plenty of let's play youtubers which is what garnered my interest in the game in the first place. It was hailed as one of the scariest games ever at the time, and an exemplification of the psychological horror genre.

I didn't get to play it for myself until a year later, when I got the game on a Halloween sale along with the newly released DLC: Whistleblower.

Blood is Red

Chris Walker became my no. 1 favorite on very short notice. I could go on and on about him and why I like him, so I'll try to keep a lid on it. Aside from being huge, frightening, and obscenely powerful, he also has a compelling story along with his iconic character design.

Understanding Chris's motivations has everything to do with understanding the situation he's in, and you don't have the full picture until you know - or realize - what the WALRIDER is and how it operates.
Mt. Massive has essentially become a warzone thanks to the riot, and the main contaminant poses a very serious threat to the populace should it escape; all things you hear Chris muttering about as he patrols the halls.
Even with how little we find out about him, it's enough for Miles to sympathize with him in the end despite having been hunted by the man for the entirety of the game. "We have to contain it." How he ended up in Mt. Massive Asylum is explained in the comic [THE MURKOFF ACCOUNT], which adds another layer of tragedy to his character building beyond the fact that he is one patient of many preyed upon and exploited by Murkoff.
While it was already established that Chris was a military veteran, TMA reveals that he was under Murkoff's employ prior to his incarceration, working as a security guard at an outpatient clinic meant to treat veterans with combat PTSD. The additional, if brief, insight to who Chris was before the Morphogenic Engine ravaged his mind made me like him all the more.
He was someone calm, cooperative, sympathetic, and not without a sense of humor. He took the position as security so that he could keep his fellow vets safe, as well as the doctors trying to help them — even if ultimately Murkoff's condemning shadow loomed even here.


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's gone?
Blowing the Whistle

May 6th 2014 saw the release of Outlast's first and only DLC. In stead of Miles, you're cast in the role of Waylon Park, the man who blew the whistle on Murkoff's inhumane practices in Mt. Massive, hence the namesake. You're given the immediate tie-in to the main game by opening on Waylon writing the very e-mail that summoned Miles to the hospital. Even without anything significant happening it has you on edge, for not only do we already know what is to come in terms of the riot, but we also know what Murkoff is capable of.

After all, 'previously undiagnosed mental illness' is the perfect excuse to swiftly silence insubordinate staff, and it's one they are eager to utilize.

Whistleblower did exactly what a sequel should; expand upon the established worldbuilding in a way that provides no bloat but simply enhances the story - you're given a deeper understanding of what's going on with Murkoff, and there are several moments that directly interlace with the first game that makes it feel even more like one cohesive story - like coming across Father Martin painting the 'Follow the Blood' message for Miles to find - or seeing the chapel burning in the distance.

It involves all the old familiar faces even if those encounters are brief; such as the Twins in the yard, or Chris Walker in the radio tower. Outlast's strength lies in its incredible villains, and boy did Whistleblower deliver on villains.

Frank Manera is great; his introduction is spectacular, and the audio cue of him spinning his little circular saw for his whereabouts is definitely creepy to hear down the hall. I also greatly enjoyed crawling through the walls and listening to Dennis argue with his alters, but it cannot be denied that the magnum opus of early Outlast villains was The Groom.

My Love's Arbor

Oh, Eddie. Now here's a polarizing character if you'll ever find one; you either hate him or love him, but in whichever case he's a fantastic villain. On a very surface level, what I like so much about Eddie Gluskin is he exposes an entire demographic of people (namely men) to the horror of simply being a woman. That in itself is a fantastic move, and it's not something I'd ever seen done in a horror game before.
In addition to just how well Eddie's segment is executed on a gameplay and level-design standpoint, his entire character is deeply fascinating to me. There is so much going on psychologically with this man, things you garner from his brief appearance in the very beginning, how he acts when you encounter him again, and what you can read in his patient file.
"Did I frighten you? I'm awfully sorry, I didn't mean to." He's charming and charismatic, flirting and singing and prancing around in his fantasies - and yet he still shows insight into where he is and his situation, like he swings back and forth between reality and... well, I hesitate to say psychosis; I'd say it's more like he's still halfway trapped in the dream therapy. He swings between angry and placating just as wildly.
I could talk about Eddie for hours, honestly.

He can't cope with his past, so he invents his own. He can't cope with rejection, so he ritualistically destroys what he perceives as the very icon of rejection; women. He can't cope with himself, so he pretends to have a life he has not had, and acts like the gentleman that he isn't.

A fascinating man. If I met him in real life I'd pummel him into the earth, though.


Impact of the Therapy

In 2014 Outlast had a thriving online community. I remember drawing endlessly, I remember writing long thinkpieces on the characters and how I interpreted their internal workings. The game was brand new, theories and character discussions were the cream of the crop of fan engagement, plus Whistleblower had just released. Outlast was a catalyst in not only my creative development, but the consequent community that rose up around the franchise is what lead me to meeting the love of my life.

Our shared love for the game and its characters is what got us talking, and we've spoken every single day since. Talking turned to friendship turned to crush turned to love, and almost ten years later we found ourselves moving in together from across the world, and eventually tying the knot, never to ever part again... Outlast has cemented itself as something icredibly important to me.

Essentially, in the most perfect irony, Eddie Gluskin got me married.


Money is a matter of faith. All we were ever trying to do is sell you the dream, but you can't make a deal if you've got nothing to bargain with. You gotta be inside the dream to buy it. You gotta. Have. Faith. And that's what I'm here for. To make you believe.