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I'll Make a (wo)Man Out of You

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A/N: Hello, people!

I don't own Outlast.

I have no beta.



Waylon twitched minutely as the attention of all the 'important' men were on him. He typed slowly, carefully. He didn't want to make a mistake, because all it took was one word to Blaire and he was fucked. He was already chancing everything by sending that email and he really couldn't afford to get in trouble before the evidence was discarded.

The system required a code. The program ran through the numbers one at a time and so long as the code was right, everything would go well. The code used only five digits in a four set sequence that lasted twenty digits long, varying in order and then was repeated thousands of times. However, the problem with that was that there were over one hundred possible permutations of that simple combination.

Waylon had to type that particular code five thousand times in order to get the desired effects of the machines. These were doctors, not technicians or programmers. They didn't have the skill to work these things out like he could and that was why he was required to do this instead of them. If it was left up to them, they'd take hours no doubt, and possibly mess it up somewhere in between.

Around the three thousandth repeat of the sequence, his attention was called away from the computer to a scuffle happening in the engine room. Several guards were leading one of the 'maniacs' into the room and the mouth on the man was flying a million miles a minute.

The doctor beside him cursed the name 'Gluskin'.

The man was begging for help, cursing them up one side and down the other, and struggling viciously. He also screamed 'rape' several times.

Waylon's attention returned to the screen and he almost mistyped a part of the sequence when the criminal slammed into the window separating the engine room from the observation deck.

"You!" the man yelled, looking directly at Waylon. "I know you can stop this! You have to help me! You have to!"

Waylon winced and couldn't stop himself from backing away from the window, even as the security guards struggled to drag the manic man away.

A little prompting from the doctor and the guard in the room had him moving back to his work, though his conscience was weighing heavily upon his shoulders. The man had seemed so terrified and after some of the things that Waylon had witnessed over the past couple of weeks, he knew the man had every right to be.

And there Waylon was, typing out the sequence that would surely mess the man's brain up even more than it already was.

He felt guilty.

It would take at least five minutes for the full program to run through the sequences and that could give him time to get back to his laptop and get rid of all evidence that he even sent any email.

If he fucked up the sequence on purpose… he'd have to do it near the end to give himself time and also hope for the best that the man could handle the first five minutes. If the system was interrupted due to improper sequencing, then it could take hours to fix if they even had the right people on hand. Days if they couldn't find the proper people.

The email would no doubt get someone's attention. Hopefully enough attention that it would call in actual law enforcement and not just Murkoff's special forces.

He glanced up, seeing that the man had been situated in the sphere with all manner of tubes up his nose and shoved down his throat.

Coming to the end of the final sequence, Waylon switched the last two numbers and pressed ENTER.

He was thanked and asked to depart quickly, which he was more than glad to do.

Waylon retreated from the room, trying to ignore the man's horrified screams. He'd done what he could for the moment. All he had to do was hope that everything went according to plan.

He needed to get to the Server Room and then call off for the rest of the day. One hundred feet and then he was home free.

The door was open.

He'd closed it. But the door was open just a bit.

Aw shit.

Jeremy Blaire was sitting in his seat, the laptop under his elbow.

"Someone's been telling stories outside of class."

Waylon's knees met the hard floor when a security guard came up from behind him and forced him down. And there, held in place by a booted foot and several guns pointed at his head, Waylon faced Jeremy Blaire's smug smile.

His heart was pounding erratically as Blaire reviewed what he knew about his worker and how he insulted Waylon's intelligence for using a borrowed laptop that was owned by the company he was trying to get shut down. In all truth, it was sort of stupid but it had to be done.

They were going to commit him!

"Did I just hear Miss Waylon Park volunteer for the Morphogenic Engine Program?"


And that asshole wouldn't even acknowledge Waylon as a man. Fuckwit.

The Engine's effects were still flashing before his eyes. The programmer blinked rapidly and attempted to shake the visions away. He could only imagine what that would do to people who were already insane when going into the process.

Murkoff was full of monsters and the whole slew of them should be committed instead. The mad bastards should be subjected to the very program they created, in retribution for their sins.

Memories of the screams of the patients whom he had witnessed go through the engine, lingered in the recesses of his mind. He wanted to shake those off too, but apparently he was doomed to suffer the hallucinations for even helping Murkoff for those few weeks.

Distantly he felt that he deserved it a bit. Thankfully he hadn't gone through the process for too long. Two weeks wasn't too long. Not like some others who had been at Mount Massive for months or years.

Once the wood finally looked like wood again, Waylon pushed himself onward. Turning off valves, opening doors, hiding in lockers when the moment was right, it was all beginning to wear on him. Also, he couldn't remember when he'd last eaten and he was just tired.

A bath, a toilet, a bed, some food, it would all be lovely at the moment.

"Rats in the walls!"

Could the damn lunatics just be quiet?! God, all he wanted to do was rest and now he had to run again.

How did they even know he was there?

The camera. There was a light on the camera. Small and red, but still noticeable even in the dark. Dammit! He was a moron!

Was he being pursued by four different people? As in, four inmates that managed to get along enough not to brutally slaughter each other? God, he had the worst fucking luck in the world. Worst ever!

"We give him other flesh and he spares ours," said the woman.

Woman? Mount Massive no longer accepted females after the Incident of 2012. Why the hell was a woman here?

Without thinking of it, Waylon descended the rickety staircase as quickly as possible, noting that they were no longer pursuing him.

"Fucking idiot delivered his own self to Gluskin's hell."

The word sounded familiar.

They stopped following him when he went downstairs. And the man from before was terrified of being taken to 'the man downstairs'. Dear Christ, what had he just walked into if even the other maniacs were terrified to follow him?

The camera's night vision showed a… workshop? Sewing machines and mannequins as far as he could see. It didn't seem too bad, but he remained on the balls of his feet anyway. A swift getaway would save his ass.

He slipped into the next room and rounded the corner of a white tarp ever so slowly, and found himself wishing to gouge his own eyes out.

It was a dead body. The man had been mutilated, given large breasts that were obscene looking on his chest. There was no shape or curve much like with a female body. One that was actually designed to grow large breasts naturally. This just looked like balloons jutting out of the chest and both were hanging at odd angles.

Waylon patted his own chest, wincing at the reminder that his binder had been taken away, leaving him flapping around. Not that he was large per se, but they still jiggled when he moved. He hated it. Luckily, the uniform was large on him and rather shapeless as well.

Back to the bodies though. Disregarding the blood - because he'd seen so much of it that it didn't really faze him anymore - he took in the rest of the tableau.

The legs were spread to give a better view. The man's genitals had been severed it appeared, and a hole was carved a little below where the penis once resided. From the hole, popped a head. Probably the head of the body situated next to the corpse.

It was a gruesome birth scene. Waylon shivered. He'd never been one for pregnancies. When he was younger, his mother had always insisted that having children was a woman's greatest achievement and that he('she' at the time) would get married to a 'nice young man' and settle down with tons of children. She'd 'be so happy'.

Years of being told what he was going to do in life had annoyed him. He didn't want to marry a man simply because mom said so. He didn't want to get pregnant simply because others girls did. In fact, he never felt like a girl in the first place and wasn't so sure that pregnancy was in the works for him.

Waylon hated his body and lamented the fact that one, his family had been too poor for hormones. Two, his mother refused to see his way in that despite not caring how he dressed, he still claimed to be a boy. She wouldn't hear anything about it and certainly denied him when he asked. Still, twenty-five years old and he didn't have enough for hormones or surgery, and simply had to make due with what he had.

Having his kind of body meant struggles. Menstrual cycles, feminine appearance, misogyny, and the all time usual, sexual harassment. Why anyone would want to be a female, he would never understand. And judging from how that head was coming out of the carved vagina, birth was a big, 'fuck no' as well.

He made a stiff about face and continued on his way, because he didn't want to look at the creepy reminder of his own body any longer. He had to get the hell out of this hell hole and get his evidence out there. He was so lucky they decided to film him as well, which would give him more leeway on the legal front.

It was mostly dark. Any light coming in from the windows was faint because moonlight didn't reach as far as the sun did.

He walked around more tables and switched his night vision on again in order to avoid stepping on anything. Bare feet were a problem when trying to walk around a darkened room at night.

He approached a nearby door and tried to open it, but found it to be locked.


Waylon jumped back in surprise, finding a man on the other side of the door. The man looked familiar. Very familiar. His right eye was a little bloodshot and there was a cluster of what looked to be a rash, on his right cheek. Other than that, he seemed to be the most physically put together person Waylon had encountered thus far.

The man stepped away from the door and started walking to his right, allowing the programmer to see his clothing as he went. A white button down and a vest, bow tie, fingerless gloves, cargo pants, and thick boots. Where did he even get such clothing in this place?

Waylon stood in the darkness for a moment, wondering just what to do. The creak of a door in the other room alerted him that the man was coming for him!

Waylon dashed to a nearby table and crouched beneath it, turning the camera off in the process. He regulated his breathing and simply held still, even as the man's footsteps grew closer and closer. The man began to speak.

"Did I frighten you? I'm awfully sorry, I didn't mean to."

The voice the man possessed was very… suave. A lunatic should not sound so serene.

"We've met before, haven't we? I know I've seen your face."

So Waylon wasn't the only one to find the other familiar. Also, why did the man sound so calm and in control? Wasn't an asylum for the bad people who couldn't function because their sanity was basically gone? No loony had the right to be so charming.

Charming? Waylon must have been really tired if he was thinking that a possible murderer was charming. He needed rest.

"Maybe, just before I woke up."

Before he woke up?

"Though it seems like a dream now, being here with you."

Was that some kind of attempt at flirting? Waylon had heard much better come ons from trailer trash.

"Let me fill you up."

Okay, and things were taking a creepy turn now! He needed to get the fuck out. He had to get away, to spread the video. To get Murkoff shut down. He couldn't die by the hands of some weird man.

"You don't have to be alone anymore. You could make me whole. I could fill the emptiness inside you."

Was there a husky quality to the voice? Oh God, maybe he was some kind of sexual deviant and that was why he was saying all this creepy shit about filling Waylon up. That could be taken in so many ways and Waylon was sure that what he had in mind was not what was in the man's thoughts.

Waylon placed a finger over the red light on the camera and turned it on, nearly jumping out of his skin when he noticed that the unknown man was only two desks away. The programmer stiffened and ceased breathing, watching as the man turned in the other direction and continued to speak, only some of his words actually clear enough to comprehend.

He seemed to be humming and talking at the same time, unable to decide which was better.

Waylon slowly crawled out from his hiding spot and began the careful trek around the room, giving the man a wide berth as he did so. The only problem he had, was that there were windows between he and the entrance he'd used to even get into the room. The man would no doubt see his shadow if not him, blocking the light, and would then give chase.

Waylon hated his fucking life.

He backed himself into the wall and slid along the perimeter of the room carefully, watching as the man began checking under tables on the other side. He also started singing a very creepy song.

The younger man knelt on the floor and crawled beneath the windowsill, hoping he could stay in the small shadow for as long as possible.

The first window was passed without struggle, the second, he had to wait for the man's back to turn, but he eventually got there. The last, that was the problem. It was broken slightly, and without the transparent glass in the way, clearer light filled the room.

Waylon drew himself to his feet and pressed against the wall again. The doorway was four feet to the left and the man was all the way on the opposite side of the room, with various tables and boxes separating them. Waylon had the advantage of flat ground, even if the man could do parkour.

Throwing all caution to the wind, Walyon ran for it, trying to kept to the balls of his feet to lessen the sound.



He rounded the tarp, passed the bodies, and ran out the open door. He needed somewhere dark. Somewhere dark and high up preferably. The other man was huge. Well over six and a half feet in height. His body was built with broad shoulders and a wide chest. He was not the kind of person who could fit in a vent, and Waylon was counting on that fact.

Waylon was small. Very small. Both his parent's had been small and unfortunately, he took after his mother, who was a legal midget. Now while he wasn't that short, he was still small enough pass as a child sometimes, if he tried hard enough. Kids could practically fit anywhere.

The sound of heavy footsteps followed him and only then did Waylon begin panicking. The guy could literally break him in half and he was being chased by him!

He really hated his luck.

Eddie Gluskin hadn't expected his bride to come to him. Usually he was the one hunting his beloved down, but there she was! He could feel the elation just bubbling up inside of him! His darling was so small and delicate, he would have to treat her kindly once he got rid of any… unsightly deformities.

But she was already better than any of the whores Eddie had formerly hoped would be his bride. Her body looked nothing like his and that was already making everything better.

Eddie wanted a family and he'd spent years upon years hoping for one. He'd tried making his own dozens of times and could just never find the right one. Those sluts just couldn't accept their futures at his side and instead, they hanged.

His darling was skittish and she was very good at remaining unseen and unheard. Even as he pursued her along the vast corridors of their home, he could barely hear her and only just caught glimpses of her when he rounded corners and entered rooms.

She was perfection!

He could feel his pulse quickening. He liked how fit she was. How dainty she was. How good she smelled.

"Darling, how long do you wish to play this game of chase?" he inquired, beginning to doubt her. She never answered anything he had to say. Not when he offered himself to her, not when he commented on her loneliness, not even when he remarked upon how familiar she appeared.

And she really did ring a bell. Surely some time before he awoke from the… engine. She was dressed differently, he remembered. Her shapeless clothing stuck in his mind, because he hated how boyish they made her appear.

Did she perhaps not remember him? Could she be scared? She was wearing the uniform expected of everyone. Maybe they hurt her too. Maybe she was confused. Yes, she had to be confused. Otherwise she wouldn't be fleeing from his love!

"Darling, there's no need to run! We'll get to know each other just fine after the ceremony! You will make me a happy man, darling!"

His proclamation did not make her stop. She was still running. Running from him.

She didn't want him. Another one! She was just another whore! She traipsed into his territory simply to taunt him like the slut she was! If she didn't want him, they he would just hang her with all the others who didn't want him.

Eddie doubled his pace. Once he had this swinish whore out of the way, he could return to the search for a real bride.

Rounding a corner, he was just in time to see her crawling into an air vent. He cursed mentally. She'd escaped for the moment, but all he had to do was go where the vent led… which was the gymnasium. She was playing right into his plan.

Eddie slowed his gait and decided to take his time. When she finally realized where she was, it would be too late for her.

She wasn't worthy of his seed anyway. He felt better all of a sudden, his outlook now brighter.


The expletive rang through the halls from up ahead and an odd sound followed. Like a machine.


That voice was far more masculine than the first voice. Eddie picked up the pace once more, because someone was most likely trying to take his catch from him. He didn't like competition. He was a very possessive man after all.

He entered the gym, finding the whore running from a variant. Eddie had never seen him before, but he did recognize the weapon in his hand. A saw. Eddie made good use of one of his own actually, however he was very displeased that this creature was trying to take what wasn't his.

The whore leapt over a table, narrowly dodging the hand saw, though not by much. Her uniform took a direct cut to the back, a long slash ripping through the cheap fabric.

She was agile though, sliding under another table with ease and vaulting herself with only one hand, flipping a good distance away from her attacker.

Eddie couldn't help but be impressed and the faint stirrings of warmth beginning in his groin were not helping. He was supposed to hate her and kill her for her betrayal, but he found her so beautiful right now!

She was not trying to fight. Perhaps she couldn't fight. Running was probably the only thing she could do. Maybe… maybe that was why she had run. She thought Eddie was trying to attack her?

"MEAT! My meat! All mine!" yelled the emaciated man, swinging the saw outward and nicking the front of the uniform this time.

Eddied watched as the poor woman tripped over a rod on the floor. His anger was kindled when the variant lunged for her, pinning her to the floor as she was barely able to keep his arms away from her face. Her hands wrapped around his bony wrists as she struggled to push him off. She wasn't strong enough.

Eddie had, had it, and stalked forward. The variant never got the chance to react. He was stuck in the position he was held in, unable to stop Eddie from grasping his neck from behind and wrenching it roughly to the side.

The body fell limp, collapsing on the woman. She gave a loud shriek and pushed the corpse away. Eddie stood above her, his gaze caught immediately. Her front was torn open, revealing her chest. Her chest which was adorned with two, perky breasts. She already had…

Eddie knelt immediately, batting away her hands that raised to shield herself from his view. Fed up with her defiance, one of his strong hands slid around her delicate throat and gave a warning squeeze. "Don't test my patience, darling," he murmured, the threat in his voice easy to detect.

His other hand however, was fondling the supple flesh before him. He grasped the zipper and pulled it the rest of the way down, revealing that she was completely bare beneath her uniform, except for a torn undershirt. Everything was bare. He took notice of the lack of body hair as well as the lack of anything vulgar.

He'd found a real women! He didn't have to make her into one! She already had the parts necessary!

"You're perfect for me, darling," he purred, unable to keep his satisfaction in check. He was no longer angry. Obviously she had been confused, especially if that thing was following her around.

She lay beneath him, stiff as a board, eyes flickering between his hands and his face. Eddie flushed immediately, assuming that she thought he was trying to… get fresh before they were even wed. He would never! Of course fondling her nude form was probably not the way to convince her of his truth.

Eddie was a gentleman after all.

Slowly, the man retreated, grasping a small hand and pulling his bride to her feet. Now that they were in close quarters, he was able to ascertain her size, finding at least a foot difference between them.

Her face was covered in smudges of dirt and blood, and her throat had a purple bruise that boldly stood out. He wasn't the one to put it there, for it was a large line that spanned the entire right side of the column. Either someone had struck her or she had run into something long and thin.

Her hair was cut short and while he liked how it expose her neck, he preferred his women with longer hair. But they had all the time in the world for it to grow back, so he wasn't worried. What did worry him, was the red speckles noticeable in the golden strands. He hoped it wasn't her blood.

She had a considerable tan, her skin much darker than his own, which was fair. She probably saw a lot of sunlight. If she liked the outdoors, it would explain why she had been wandering the courtyard outside for several minutes before actually trying to turn the electric fence off.

He'd seen her shadow through the door while he was dealing with a slut and once the nuisance was disposed of, he trailed to the door to see where she was headed. Once he was certain, he moved to a better vantage point.

He'd watched through a window and found himself enchanted, but reluctant to go outside. Straying too far from his territory could possibly invite others in. He knew of some others who would pose a problem and many of them liked the outside very much. Unless necessary, Eddie wouldn't stray too far from his home.

His darling had nearly met her end by way of variant filth but Eddie had taken care of the problem before it could pursue her any further into the gloom. Eddie hoped beyond all hope that she would go his way and how lucky he was that she had!

His musings were interrupted when a loud banging caught his attention. His lovely bride whirled around, raising her camera to her face as she muttered a curse that was not fit to pass through a lady's lips.

The banging was coming from the gymnasium door that Eddie had locked up in order to prevent the escape of his quarry. Behind the door, he could see the silhouette of a massive figure. The person was pounding roughly on the door and managed to break the left window.

His darling gasped, stepping back in her shock and bumping into him. She paid him no mind however, as she uttered one word.


Eddie knew of Chris Walker and knew that he was one of the ones who roamed outside whenever he wanted, which was why Eddie did not go outside. It was astonishing how a person so mountainous was so agile and Eddie did not seek an encounter with the man.

His darling was already ahead of his thought process, turning and darting around him while yelling, "Run!"

He didn't want to fight Walker, but he also didn't like running. The man was supposed to protect his family.

"Don't fucking stand there! Run!"

Eddied decided to listen to her, only to prove that he was the kind who took his wife's opinion to heart. It would certainly lighten his appearance in her eyes. She would most likely find him more trustworthy now.

Eddie was not often faced with someone who could move faster than he, but his little darling was definitely a quick one. She was already slipping through his workshop and leaping over tables and chairs.

"We need to get up. Despite how strong and fast he can be, he has a hard time with stairs or climbing!" she called back to him, already at the foot of the stairwell.

She proceeded to take them three steps at a time.

Eddie pushed himself to go faster, rounding the banister to see her scaling a high wall. Did she never tire? Her stamina was amazing.

He flushed at the thoughts of her stamina and what other activities she could use it toward.

"It's Gluskin!" came a worried yell of a frightened man.

"Did he actually lead the bastard all the way up here?!"

"Get away! He'll kill us all!"

"I knew we should have killed the little twink first!"

Eddie caught a glimpse of someone whom he had given up on as bride material when they proved too elusive to capture. They made their desire to avoid him quite obvious and Eddie decided that should he ever catch them he would just kill them instead. Such a whore wasn't worthy of being his wife anyway.

"Shut up!" his darling yelled. "He's not the one to worry about. The big one is behind us!"


"Chris Walker?"

"The Walker who rips heads off his victims? That, Walker?!"

"Oh, God! Run for your lives!"

Suddenly, it was as if the corridor was flooded. Eddie had to marvel at how many whores had managed to outrun him. He also had to withhold the urge to hunt them all down because all of them were in danger.

Survival of the fittest, he recalled hearing somewhere. Well if this was survival, than Eddie was going to make sure that his darling and he survived.

Grabbing a passing whore by the back of her suit, Eddie pivoted on the balls of his feet and dragged them with him, slamming them into a wall and then releasing them into the middle of the hallway.

Several seconds later, he could hear the screams and the loud squelch signifying that Walker had caught the little delay Eddie had left for him.

Good. Now all they had to do was outsmart the beast. Then Eddie and his darling could get married, knowing that their children would be safe.

Everything would be perfect!

A/N: The first is done!

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