His Lullaby {Eddie Gluskin x Waylon Park} {Outlast}

Chapter 5: Crumb Grabbers

Lisa gets a visit from Mr. Blaire.

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Be mindful of the tags when reading this story. It's not for the faint of heart.

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Miles's POV:

"Why do you want to know?" Miles walked around his apartment, still dressed in his clothing from the day before. His shirt was crinkled and his jacket was thrown over one of his dining chairs.

His apartment was small; a tiny kitchen with a table meant for two connected to a living room with a couch and a tv. The living room held a view of the street outside, and if he was lucky he'd be able to have a midnight laughing fit when some of the drunks from the nearby bar would stumble and trip out on the sidewalk. He had two bedrooms, one for actually sleeping, and the other used as his 'office' - it was mostly just a bunch of filing cabinets and evidence boxes for different projects he'd work on. There was a bathroom as well that held a shower and a neat porcelain sink. It was exactly the spot for Miles. He could get his work done while also being able to have his own space. He's never been overly complicated about his living situation, just needing something to get him through day to day activities since work took up most of his time.

The woman on the phone - Mrs. Lisa Park - was the same one he had run into a few days prior at the hospital when he had been scoping out evidence for William Hope's case. Miles was feeling particularly stressed because he wanted to have this project ready for the newspaper when his boss wanted it, but he didn't have any other evidence that he could find about the man. He tried going to the police who told him to keep his nose out of it, as well as trying to track down the address of his mother. That was nowhere to be found either.

"Dammit, Miles. I have to find my husband. I haven't heard from him in days," Lisa yelled into the phone. "His children are wondering where he is, and he was meant to be back on the same day he left, but he hasn't come back at all."

"Maybe he took a hike? There are some pretty deep woods up by Murkoff after all," Miles snickered.

Lisa didn't like that. She didn't like that one bit.

Miles had to hold the phone away from his ear after she nearly blew his eardrum out with her yelling. "MILES UPSHUR! MY HUSBAND WAS STOLEN BY MURKOFF AND YOU THINK IT'S FUNNY? HOW DARE YOU!" She cried.

Miles stopped dead in his tracks, "Hold up, what? Murkoff 'stole him'?" He had to rehear that since he didn't think his ears worked when she had made that statement.

He heard some slight sniffles on the other end of the line, but Lisa reiterated her statement to him. "He hasn't been back in days, and I have reason to believe he was stolen by Murkoff. This man named... what was it... Mr. Blaire? I don't know. This man dressed in this stupid fancy suit showed up at my house this morning and said that my husband has become ill and has to be committed to their psychiatric ward. What does that even mean?"

Miles's blood ran cold. Psychiatric ward? That place was not an asylum anymore, he was sure of it. It was a government base meant for telesecurity from what he could figure out. The asylum had shut down years ago. Lisa was telling him - no, that man told Lisa - that there was a psychiatric ward? That made no logical sense.

"What was his name? Mr. Blaire? Did you get a first name with it?" Miles asked her, holding the phone back closer to his ear. He fished out one of his notepads and grabbed a pen, writing down Lisa's answer.

"Yes, he was Mr. Blaire. I think his first name was Jeremy, I saw it on his phone when he got a text message. It was addressed to him, and they called him Jeremy," she stated. Miles was surprised at her observation. People read text messages but usually for other reasons. Lisa was damn observant to notice that.