Outlast & The Art of The Scare

OUTLAST

I creep, ever so slowly, down the hallway of the mental asylum. The light is so dim as to be barely visible, and the only sounds are my own fractured breaths and the creak of my tentative steps. Trembling, I raise my only companion, a night vision camera with ever decreasing battery life, into the gloom. A noise in the distance. Continue reading