Miles Upshur, an investigative reporter whose ambition is about to earn him an intimate tour of hell on earth. Always willing to risk digging into the stories no other journalist would dare investigate, he seeks out the dark secret at the heart of Mount Massive Asylum. He is not a fighter; to navigate the horrors of Mount Massive and expose the truth, his only choices are to run, hide, or die. . . .
Miles Upshur POV
Miles pulled up to the Mount Massive Asylum, parking his red 1997 Jeep Wrangler TJ outside the gate. He loads his camera with batteries, it’s night vision mode working well, then turned the night vision mode off and checked the document. It was a tip from an anonymous person:
September 17, 2013 From: 10260110756@mutemail.com To: milesupshur@gmail.com Subject: TIP / Illegal Activity at Murkoff Psychiatric Systems
”You don't know me. Have to make this quick. They might be monitoring. I did 2 weeks of software consult at MURKOFF Psychiatric Systems' facilities in Mount Massive. All sorts of NDA's I am very much breaking right now but seriously, fuck those guys. Terrible things happening there. Don't understand it. Don't believe half the things I saw. Doctors talking about dream therapy going too deep, finding something that had been waiting for them in the mountain. People are being hurt and Murkoff is making money. It needs to be exposed.”
He put the paper back in the folder and put it away, with him. He get through the gate and stood in front of the asylum. He wrote down in my notes, my thoughts.
“I start feeling sick just looking at this place. Mount Massive Asylum, shut down amid scandal and government secrecy in 1971, reopened by Murkoff Psychiatric Systems in 2009 under the guise of a charitable organization. Cell phone reception cut off abruptly a mile out, more like a jammer than lost signal. The Murkoff Corporation has a long track record of disguising profit as charity. But never on American soil. Whatever they thought they could get out of this place has to be big. Might finally be the story that breaks the bastards.”*
He found his way into the building and began my exploration.
He should’ve never came here. . . . this place is sick. The amount of blood.. the bodies… the insane patients… and worst of all, the Morphogenic Engine. To explain the morphogenic engine, its designed to manipulate the human mind and body at a cellular level, ultimately leading to the creation and control of sentient nano-swarms, particularly the entity known as the Walrider. In essence, the Morphogenic Engine uses a combination of psychological manipulation, chemical modification, and advanced technology to transform human cells into nano-factories capable of producing and controlling a powerful, sentient entity. During his exploration, a security guard impaled told him to get the fuck out. Would’ve been nice to know before his way out was blocked. Fuck this place. Seriously, fuck this place.
hes in the administration block, trying to get through a wall of items. He managed to be able to fit, and getting to the other side— scratch that, he was grabbed by a large hand.
“Little pig!”
a gravelly voice yelled out. It grabbed him and held him in the air. This.. thing… what is it?! He couldn’t think anymore before the giant threw him out the window and into the main room. It hurt like hell.
after an unspecified amount of time unconscious, he wake up to a man in a priests outfit next to him, crouched down, shining a flashlight at him.
“And who are you, then?”
His vision blurs and blacks out once more. Once they clear again, the same man is holding his camera, scrolling through the feed he’s recorded.
“I... I see. Merciful God, you have sent me an apostle. Guard your life, son, you have a calling.”
he tells me, before putting the camera back next to me. Once again, my vision blacks out. Once he woke up, he’s gone. His head hurts like hell, he’s got scratches from the broken glass, there’s still fucking blood everywhere, and now he has some guy telling him he’s an apostle. Great.