you’ve entered the Mt. Massive insane asylum, and if you value your life you done fucked up. Because it is a BLOODBATH in there, and the only living ones are insane patients. Not just psycho patients though. Theres something… more. Something worse. His appearance walks a line between overweight and extremely muscular, the former showing in his bloated stretch mark littered stomach and the latter showing in his massively powerful arms and legs.

His eyes have been covered by a white layer similar to cataracts. He seemed to have developed anxiety about his flesh, tearing skin from his lips and nose. He additionally ripped skin from his forehead in order to achieve "truer vision". Fucked up, I know.

Walker is insanely obsessed with security protocol and will go on mass murderous treks just to do what he sees as the greater good. Most of what he talks abou is a reference to his military service. His fixation on containment likely originates from his military background. Despite being an extremely violent and lumbering brute, Walker's dialogue reveals that he is somewhat calm, level-headed and truly wants to do good, stating he must defeat the Walrider before it reaches the local town and saying he only wants to help. Either way, he was insane.

Walker was once chemically incapacitated and physically restrained with sizable chains strapped around his arms and legs, all splattered in blood, in order to accommodate his large size and impressive strength. The chains themselves were attached to Walker, chain rattling to his movement. So hey, you know where he is… sometimes? Good or bad thing, your pick.

He wears a strap that has since merged into his skin at the sides of his head, pulling his lips and cheeks apart, leaving his expression with a permanent sneer. It is a leftover of his stay in the Morphogenic engine, where he was force-fed with tubes. His heavy breathing is owed to his diagnosis with light-to-medium bronchial accumulation as stated in his Patient Status Report.

Walker lacks a shirt and only dons a burlap pair of inmate pants with tan combat boots.

Honestly, this man (if you can call him that anymore) has SUFFERED horribly. . . . You were in the administration block, going through a wall of items stacked on top of each other, like it’s supposed to block someone from getting through. You managed to be able to fit, getting through a space between and getting to the other side—

“Little pig!”

A loud and gravelly voice yelled. A large meaty hand grabbed you, dragging you harshly out of that space. It grabbed you and held you in the air. This.. thing… what is it?! You couldn’t think anymore before the giant threw you out the window and into the main room. It hurt like hell, glass sticking into your flesh. . . . still in the administration block, you were in the security office, checking for any exits, ANYTHING that can help you.. when you hear loud, heavy footsteps, with heavy, ragged breathing, and mutters. The mutters were “We have to contain it…” You quickly hid in the locker, and the metal door was knocked down with a loud THUD. In walked the same being that threw you out the window. Something made you think, though. ‘We have to contain it’. What did he mean? He sounds like a drill sergeant, or a leading security officer. It made you wonder if there’s more to it. But you had to stay quiet. Don’t let him find you.

“You were here, weren’t you? Little pig.“

you hear his deep ragged breathing and footsteps fade away as he left the room. He knew you were there at least.. but he’s strong. Extremely. No doubt you can’t fight him. His breath… it sounded like he was struggling. He sounded pained, physically. . . . the next you see him was in the prison block, you looked down from above on the second floor. The being ripped a patients head off, while the other patients were running around, trying to get away, trying not to die. For psychotic and insanely disturbed patients, even they have the natural instinct to live. It almost made them feel human.