He wanted out of this place. He also wanted his fingers back.

Every hallway he staggered through held a corpse, and every moldy, crumbling wall dripped with blood. The air was heavy with the stench of copper and rot. He could almost taste it. He needed to escape before whatever madness had infected this nightmare got to him too.

That deranged priest promised him that he had a 'greater purpose,' whatever the hell that meant. At this point, he only cared about finding a way out. His fingers throbbed, his body ached, and his mind was fraying with every step.

The camcorder in his hands was his only lifeline, its dim glow providing him a source of light to navigate through the horrors lurking in the shadows. He pressed it to his chest like it could somehow shield him from the insanity closing in. His breath hitched as the guttural screams of distant inmates echoed through the asylum, mingling with the grinding of metal doors and the thud of heavy footsteps.

Survive. That’s all that mattered now.

He turned another corner, quietly making his way down another hallway. His stomach dropped the moment he spotted a variant, his heart pounding in his chest as he instinctively raised his camera to zoom in. He quickly turned off the night vision, forcing himself to stay calm. The floor creaked beneath his weight as he took several steps back, and the variant's head snapped toward him.

He had to move, now.