Nothing Else Matters

Chapter two

(Waylon's pov)
THE WHISTLEBLOWER

I couldn't think. I couldn't think about any action I needed to do right now. I couldn't pick up my camcorder. I was too weak. I couldn't even remember how I got here... What is my name? How do they even call me? What happened to me, that I'm suddenly so fucking confused?

But no, wait. I remember something. My name is Waylon Park.
That's a good start. I thought.
I still only saw black. I felt that my eyes were closed but I couldn't open them— I didn't want to open them. Perhaps it was from fear. How frightened I was. That's right. I'm at Mount Massive.

I smelled something moldy, bloody. It made me try harder to open my eyes. I didn't want to die. I needed to escape...I promised. Then finally, I managed to open my eyes, both at the same time and when I did I felt a ringing pain in my head. In the back of it mostly. I thought that I must have hit my head pretty bad somehow... but how?

2 hours earlier:

"Darling, why would you do this to me?!" A certain man screamed after me, but I wasn't paying my attention much to what he was saying, I concentrated on the way in front of me, and that I needed to run, run for my life. Fuck's sake this man was trying to cut me open! So, run faster, Waylon!

"You could've been so beautiful!" Eddie's voice broke in the middle of the sentence.

I felt very bad for him, but most importantly I felt like he was my responsibility. That it was my fault he is the way he is now. If I didn't turn on the engine, he would have been okay. If only I didn't even apply for this job in the first place, my family would be not worried right now. My wife for if her husband is ever coming back and my kids for if their dad will someday drive them to school again. Those thoughts made me want to cry, they made me have a tight feeling in my chest.

Oh, how much I need someone to tell me it is not my fault. That I'm not the one to blame. That I'm not crazy. That whatever I did was not a bad decision, but a good one.

Despite all my wishes, I knew this would never happen. Nobody will ever tell me those things. Because it is my fault, and I made a mistake. That for a fact I am responsible for Eddie Gluskin, few other variants, and mostly Miles Upshur. I still have a hope that he didn't find the mail and never came here to investigate, I can't take being responsible for his life, too.

"Darling! Darling! No!"

Huh? Why did Eddie's tone change? Why is he worried? What is going on? When I snapped out of my thoughts, immediately realizing that I was still running, I turned around to see how far Eddie was, and he was...pretty far away honestly. That made me a bit calm, I can do this. But then he stopped and I was confused.

"Darling, watch out—"

I gasped, realizing that I fell into a big hole...
_________________________________
I snapped out of my thoughts as I remembered what had happened to me. I fell in here because I wasn't paying attention.

I sat up, slightly touching my head to where it hurt. I looked at my hand and saw blood. Then I looked up. Fuck. How did I survive this? I even hit my head, really hard I suppose and I remember almost everything now again. I kept looking up.
Is Eddie waiting for me up there? Am I in the sewers? Probably. The moldy smell approved it, I indeed had to be in the sewers. Oh my god, I didn't plan this. What now?

Bang. Bang. Bang.

I gasped for breath quickly turning my head to the direction of the banging sounds. My heart was in my neck, almost as if next to my ear, I heard my heartbeat fasten up every second, I was frozen and that's what I was scared of. I reopened my eyes, started to think but I wasn't ready to run yet.

Waylon. Waylon. Get up. Get up. You need to run away.

Oh my god, I can't. I can't feel my legs.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

I spotted a canal, probably filled with water from the other side.

Who could be there? A variant, trying to get out? They would probably drown soon. It's okay, Waylon. Concentrate. For your kids. Get on your legs. You don't want to die. Right? You can't. Not yet.

My breathing started to fasten as much as my heart beat did and I started hyperventilating, which pretty much and soon turned into having a massive panic attack. But I wasn't realizing it. What I was doing. I held my camcorder close. I squeezed it tight, so tight that it almost broke. Instead of running away I managed to slip into a corner, pull my legs close to my chest as I was sitting, and holding tight onto my camera. I don't know what was I doing but I certainly was hoping for whoever it is behind the lid, will either die soon, or will not want to hurt me. Behind all those confusing thoughts of mine, I was still having a panic attack, and this time I was starting to realize it.

What If It was Eddie? What if it was The cannibal? Oh my god. What if there was all of them? What If they were coming for me and I will die a horrible death? Like.. Like..

Bang. Bang. Bang!

Why Is the banging louder and louder? Why is it more and more aggressive? Why does it feel closer and closer to me? Why is my heartbeat and breathing, getting quieter? Why Is everything so confusing now? Am I panicking? Do I have a panic attack still?

Bang— BANG!

"AHH!"