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Just a few things to talk about before the fanfic starts: 

- I don't own any of the Outlast characters, case files, or anything pertaining to the Outlast franchise. The only thing I do own is my character, Paige Archer and her actions. 

- This is a story that takes place in a mental institution, so there will be talk of several mental illnesses in majority of the chapters. I will try to the best of my abilities to portray the mental illness as best as I can. I apologize in advance if my portrayals isn't the best. This goes the same for the portrayal of a therapist. 

- Since this is an Outlast fanfic, there will be gore, violence, talk of or actions of sexual/physical abuse, strong language, etc. 

That's about everything, so please, enjoy the fanfic! 

(more notes at the end of the chapter)


Paige heaved in a heavy breathe as she approached Mount Massive Asylum's doors. She opened the doors to find a man right in front of the lobby, talking to the front desk security. He turned at the sound of the door opening, smiling when he spotted Paige. 

"Ah! You must be Dr. Paige Archer! A pleasure to meet you!" the man walked up to Paige and shook her hand. "My name is Jeremy Blair, the head of Mount Massive Asylum." 

Paige smiled, "It's good to meet you, Mr. Blair."  

"Oh please, just call me Jeremy." Jeremy laughed. "Come with me, I'll show you around the asylum." Jeremy extending his arm, waiting for her to loop her arm with his. She did it gladly, giving a shy smile. As they walked around the asylum, Jeremy showed and explained the housing, the patients, and the treatments. 

"Now, Dr. Archer, the kind of treatment we give to each patient is a bit more . . . experimental than normal institutions." Jeremy said as they walked along the hallway. 

She stopped walking to look at him, with eyebrows raised. "What do you mean by that?" 

Jeremy clicked his tongue, almost trying to find the right words to say. "Well, you see, our doctors are working 'round the clock to find the right treatment for our patients. The patients here, they are very sick . . . and very dangerous too." 

Still confused, Paige asked. "But what exactly is the treatment are you giving the patients?" 

Jeremy smiled as he put a finger to his lips, "It's classified." 

"How will I do my job if-" Paige was cut off when Jeremy clutched her hand, tighter than it should be. 

"Dr. Archer . . ." He growled lowly. "Normally, we don't hire psychologists who are fresh out of their schooling. And you saw during our tour that they're not a lot of female employees. I saw to it, personally, that you were given a chance, because you showed promise." Jeremy brought his hands to his pockets and sighed. "All we need you to do is consult with our patients. Ask about what they see, what they've heard. Their dreams is what's more important." 

"I don't understand-" 

Jeremy shushed her. "Now here's the deal, you can't speak about this facility. Under no circumstance must you give out information regarding any of the activities being performed in this asylum. Do you understand?" 

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