Outlast is a first-person survival horror video game developed and published by Red Barrels. The game revolves around a freelance investigative journalist, Miles Upshur, who decides to investigate a remote psychiatric hospital named Mount Massive Asylum, located deep in the mountains of Lake County, Colorado. The downloadable content Outlast: Whistleblower centers on Waylon Park, the man who led Miles there in the first place.
- Red on red, on red, on red, [mumbling] - and battle, misfortune, and revenge. Violence makes, judged by the blood, not the words. Words lie, blood is red, on red.
- Patience. Cornerstone of enhance interrogation. Endurance of the man asking questions, not the subject. We will have truth.
- Bruises, boot-shaped along the back. Burn marks on the detainee's head, torso, legs, neck, heart and mind. Blurred vision. Enhanced by metrics. Bleeding in the ears and nose. Hemorrhaging in the eyes. No inquiry. No American involvement. Restricted detainee movement, electric cable and bare soles. Accountability pending.
Father Martin Archmibaud
- I... I see. Merciful god, you have sent me an apostle. Guard your life, son, you have a calling.
- I'm sorry, my son, I didn't want to have to do this to you. But you can't leave, not yet. There is so much yet for you to witness.
- The only way out of this place is the truth. Accept the gospel and all doors will open before you.
- You saw the Walrider, didn't you? You're beginning to understand, but not yet. Even Abraham had to cast his eyes to the ground. But soon, soon. This way. Revelation is at hand.
- Our children who art here on earth hallowed by their from, their kingdom at hand, their will our will, on earth which shames heaven. Give us for our waking dreams and deliver us from evil as we deliver those who do evil for profit. Erase temptation through action, for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory and kingdom and...ever.
Richard "Rick" Trager
- Hey, you're that little shit priest's guy aren't you? His... witness or whatever. You must be exhausted. Let's take a break, huh, buddy? The old two martini lunch, have a little confab.
- It's understandable, people get scared, they're as like to turn to God as anything else. God died with the gold standard. We're on to more concrete faith now.
- You have to rob Paul to pay Peter, there is no other way. Murder in its simplest form, but what happens when all the money is gone?
- Well, money becomes a matter of faith. And that's what I'm here for. To make you believe.
Rudolf G. Wernicke
- I have my theories. My homeland in those years... it's impossible to understand. The things we felt. What we believed. The overwhelming fear, extatic rage, and... English words are insufficient. More than hope. A human mind in that environment is capable of extraordinary things. A proximity to death, to overwhelming madness. Only a test subject who had witnessed enough horror was capable of activating the engine.
- I know, I-I, I know, I am supposed to be dead. No, no such luck. I am older than sin, but, somehow, the only one left. Because of Billy.
- It was foolish and wrong to think we could control it. To use mad men to control something so strong.
- Somebody's been telling stories outside of class.
- Mr. Waylon Park, consulting contract 8208. Software engineer with a level 3 security clearance. Graduated cum laude from Berkley, but still somehow not smart enough to realize that the last thing a fly ought to do in a spider's web is to wiggle. Somehow dumb enough to think that a borrowed laptop, onion router, and firewall patch would be enough to fool the world's leading supplier of biometric security. Stupid, Mr. Park. More than stupid, in fact, that was crazy.