Insanity Becomes You [Outlast fanfic Eddie Gluskin]

♡ Chapter Three ♡

The hum of the TV was the only thing that kept me conscious after this shitty day. I was sprawled out on the pull out couch in my mock living room, snuggled happily into my plush comforter I'd brought from home. I was nuzzled against my pillow, fully prepared to go ahead and pass out after the long day I'd had. I was sure that the next day would greet me with another hard load of patients, especially after the event with the one they called Gluskin. But it seemed as if that was going to be impossible to get some shut eye.

"Miss. Meade, would you please come this way?"

A guard stood at the door, eyeing me up, as if he were judging me. I internally groaned. Getting a moment to myself was never possible.

What? Was I not allowed to relax after a long day? At least he got to go home whenever his shift ended. Not to mention, was it really so much to ask that he knock before just coming into my personal space?

I sighed and stood up, and gave a long stretch. I tried to hide my distaste as the guard continued to stare at me with narrowed eyes. I fixed my white collared button up, and pulled down my black pencil skirt which had ridden up from laying down, and slipped on my red work flats, securing the strap that held them on.

I stepped out of the door, and found Dr. Brookes was standing there waiting for me.

"Come, Violet, we have a patient to see below." His tone was quiet and calm, and before I could even say anything he already turned foot and began to walk down the corridor that lead to the elevator.

Below. Never mind that he referred to me as Violet, I'd get on him about that later. We were headed down to the one place I'd been given zero clearance for since I'd come here. My stomach turned with nervousness.

Was it that Gluskin man? Had he gotten hold of someone, letting them know that he needed me?

My stomach began to turn with anticipation, not because of that particular patient, but because I was going down below.

I was going to see the secrets that had been hidden from me since the day I arrived.

We walked slowly down the way, until we'd reached the elevator shaft. The guard, whose name tag read "K. Jefferson.", reached forward and pressed the down button before stepping behind us.

"I thought I wasn't allowed down below." I queried to Dr. Brookes, peering down at him. I couldn't help but feel a little unsure about what I was going to find down there. What exactly was behind their dream therapy that made it so revolutionary? Murkoff was a shady organization, and I wasn't sure how well I trusted their morality.

Brookes continued to stare down at the shaft, the hum of the elevator soon becoming louder as the top of the machine reached our floor, gradually proceeding upwards before coming to a halt.

He said nothing, pulling back the gate of the elevator to step inside. I stared at my mentor, suddenly feeling completely overwhelmed with an uneasy feeling. As if taking another step forward would cause a series of horrifying events to spiral into play. But perhaps it was just the emotions coming with secrets being revealed, maybe it was just my nerves, or more than likely the lack of sleep.

I sighed, and stepped into the elevator with Dr. Brookes. Jefferson filed in as well, and closed the gate behind him. He pulled a key from his pocket, and turned it into a hole in the panel where the dimly lit buttons sat. He turned it, and then hit a button that I only assumed would take us to the lower levels of Mount Massive.

"Normally, you would not be allowed down here. But, Mr. Blaire and I have spoken about your progress since you've arrived here, and we feel it best not to keep secrets from a soon to be staff, granting, you keep them to yourself. Part of being a psychiatric staff here requires you to be acquainted well with what we do here with dream therapy." Dr. Brooke's began to speak as the elevator began to descend, the gears whining. He stood in the middle of the elevator, with both hands on his cane and his stance slightly taller than usual. I was somewhat surprised at how sober his words were. Dr. Brookes was never very serious with me, and usually his words made me want to take his cane and beat him with it.

"This is not anything major, the patient we're going down to see just merely needs some calming down. We're having way too much trouble with him, and he refuses to cooperate. He needs some mental relaxation, which is not always achieved by just sedation, you see. The Engine has caused him to go a little... well, a little more bonkers. And your performance has shown that you do well with speaking to the patients on a very unbiased level." He ran a hand through the little tuffs of grey hair that he had, and still did not look at me.

"Engine?" I shot him a puzzled glance. Could he not remember that I was completely without knowledge of what he was talking to me about?

"Ah, yes... the Morphogenic Engine.. you see-" but before he could finish, the elevator came to a jilting halt, and I was half afraid we'd become stuck in the shaft as we stared at a wall that was present in front of the elevator's gate.

"We aren't quite all the way below, just at a sub block, a floor or two below the lower and final level - and it's always a jerky stop." Jefferson spoke up behind us, and gave me a reassuring nod. It seemed he could read the nervousness that was written on my expression.

But as just like he said, the elevator began to move once more, just as slowly as it had before, and then finally stopped as a hallway came into view.

The block here seemed to be more clean, more refined. As if it were a modern day hospital that actually administered the right kind of care to its patients. It even had the stale hospital smell to it, unlike the higher levels which smelled like mold and decay. The walls were strangely lined with insulator foil, that gave it a very morbid look to it. But I noticed the cells looked almost the same, a small padded bed or a chair with straps. The only difference was that there were chains and cuffs bolted into the walls of the cells.

I felt my stomach turn slightly. Why would they need to chain them up like dogs? Yes, they were inmates... but not completely prisoners. Did this machine cause patients to become more violent than prior to its use?

Jefferson must've noticed my glance towards the restraints, and he piped up, "They are a precaution. The Engine makes it easier for violence to be triggered..."

I was right, of course. Deliberately these patients would be chained prisoners so they could not harm anyone. But was this Engine really doing more harm to them? More harm than the patients ever could have done to another human being? My stomach turned again with uneasiness. The thought of getting the hell out of here was starting to nag in the back of my head, and I wondered what I'd have to do to convince my employer to rip my contract up without a fight, or without a fine.

"The Engine... what is it, Doctor?" I repeated, with unenthusiastic curiosity.

"It is a machine that allows us to see inside a patient's dreams, and that's all you need to know until Mr. Blaire and I determine your performance with our patient, Frank Manera." He snapped, suddenly irritated.

"Now, where in the hell is the cell?"