Category: survival horror

The Outlast Trials – Trial Log #4: Sabotage the Lockdown

Difficulty: Standard
Trial: Sabotage the Lockdown
Prime Asset: Coyle
Grade: A-


Back to The Outlast Trials hub

I’m sticking with Standard difficulty for another trial.
No need to press my luck yet.

This time it’s Sabotage the Lockdown.
The task sounds simple enough: reach the exit.

What the briefing neglected to mention is that I’d be carrying a gas canister the entire way.
Or that Coyle would be on my tail for the whole trial.

I didn’t even make it two rooms in before Coyle spotted me.
So I did the sensible thing.
I ran straight back to the start and hid.

Once I was sure he was gone, I went back for the canister.
Naturally, an ex-pop decided to appear at that exact moment,
so I returned to my hiding spot again.

Progress was slow, but methodical.

At one point, I was convinced I’d have to throw something at Coyle and make a break for it.
All he had to do was turn left.

He didn’t.

I’m choosing to believe the sunglasses aren’t helping him.

I eventually reached the generator, but even then, the slightest noise had me diving into corners to hide.
Once it was powered up, the exit was right there.

Somehow, after all that, I finished with an A-.
I was close to an A+, but I’ll take it.

Video

This run continues to reinforce the same lesson:
slow progress beats reckless confidence.

Related series:

Outlast – Apex Predator Run

Surviving, not suffering.

0

The Outlast Trials – Trial Log #3: Cancel the Autopsy

This Trial was my first run on Standard difficulty.
I completed it.
How cleanly is debatable.

Viewer discretion advised. The Outlast Trials is intended for mature audiences and contains graphic violence, disturbing imagery, and psychological horror.

Full Trial recording:

Cancel the Autopsy

The first key was straightforward.
No issues there.

The problems started after picking up the second key.
I thought I’d avoided one of the larger enemies.
I had not.

He spotted me and gave chase.
I ran for the gymnasium, assuming I’d shaken him.
I hadn’t.
He followed me in.

Losing the Thread

After finally finding somewhere safe, I realised I’d made a simple mistake:
I hadn’t checked the clue for the third key.

That meant backtracking.
More movement.
More risk.

Once I did find the clue, the third key turned up in the first place I checked.
Naturally.

The Exit

When it came time to leave, Coyle decided to get involved.
He chased me most of the way to the exit.

I called the subway and tried to hide in a locker.
Coyle immediately pulled me out and shocked me for the effort.

As soon as I had the chance, I ran.

Afterwards

Despite everything — the chase, the backtracking, the locker incident — I somehow finished the Trial with an A rating.
I’m still not entirely sure how.

What I am sure of is that it was a lot of fun.

Standard difficulty already feels like the right place to be.
There’s pressure, but there’s still room for things to go wrong without the run collapsing entirely.

Series Notes

This was a single attempt, recorded as it happened.
There were no retries for recording purposes.

Mistakes stayed in.
Chases stayed in.
The rating was whatever the game decided it was.

Continue the Series

1

Staying Connected


A quick housekeeping note.

If you want to keep up with what I’m playing, recording, or writing between blog posts,
the easiest way is to follow me on social media.

I share short clips, updates, and moments there —
sometimes things that never quite justify a full blog entry.

Recent Short

A brief moment from The Outlast Trials, shared as a short.
These clips usually capture instinctive reactions, close calls, or situations where stopping to think would have been a mistake.

You’ll find links to all my social platforms at the top and bottom of the site.
That’s intentional.

I’d rather keep everything visible and easy to find than rely on pop-ups or constant reminders.

No pressure.
No expectations.
Just another way to follow along if you want to.

Surviving, not suffering.

0

Announcement: Outlast – Apex Predator Run

I’m starting a new playthrough of Outlast, using what I’m calling the Apex Predator ruleset.

The idea is simple:
every death counts.
Three strikes, and the run ends.

Outlast isn’t a power fantasy.
You can’t fight back.
You can’t overpower anything.
Survival comes down to awareness, restraint, and not making the wrong decision at the wrong time.

The Apex Predator ruleset exists to give those moments weight.
It allows room to learn without encouraging recklessness.

This run sits under Survivor’s Dread and has its own hub:

Outlast – Apex Predator Run Hub
.

It will run alongside my ongoing work in
The Outlast Trials,
which has its own hub here:

The Outlast Trials Hub
.

Where possible, the two series will alternate, keeping the focus on survival horror as endurance rather than performance.

There’s no guarantee of success.
If the run ends, it ends.
That’s part of the design.

Surviving, not suffering.

0

The Outlast Trials – Trial Log #2: Eliminate the Past

This was my second attempt at Eliminate the Past.
The first ended quickly, mostly because I forgot to hit record. So I had to stop the trial midway through.

This time, I remembered to hit record.

Viewer discretion advised. The Outlast Trials is intended for mature audiences and contains graphic violence, disturbing imagery, and psychological horror.

Setup

For this run, I took the X-ray ability.
Not to min-max anything, but because wandering blindly on a timer felt like a bad idea.

The aim wasn’t to clear everything.
It was to get out before the door shut.

Eliminate the Past

There were ten records available.
I destroyed four.

That sounds low, but the Trial makes it clear very quickly that stopping for too long is how things go wrong.
Between patrols and the clock, every decision boiled down to whether it was worth the risk.

Most of the time, it wasn’t.

The Escape

When it was time to head back to the gymnasium to begin my escape from the Trial, I promptly got lost.

By the time I found my way back, I had three minutes to get out.
I managed it with roughly three seconds left on the clock.
I didn’t even notice the cop waiting to say goodbye — I just sprinted straight past him.

It didn’t feel like a win.
It felt like just about scraping through.

Afterwards

This Trial reinforced what the game has been pushing from the start:
you don’t need to do everything.
You just need to survive long enough to leave.

Four records destroyed.
Exit reached.
That was sufficient.

Series Notes

This was a single attempt, recorded as it happened.
There were no retries for recording purposes.
If I’d failed, that would have been the post.

I may return to this Trial again at the same difficulty.
For now, this is the record of how it went.

Continue the Series

Surviving, not suffering.

0

The Outlast Trials Hub Is Live

I’ve added a new hub page to the site for The Outlast Trials.

As the Survivor’s Dread side of the blog continues to grow, it made sense to give Outlast its own space — somewhere that keeps everything organised, easy to navigate, and separate from the calmer survival runs.

The hub brings together all Outlast Trials–related posts in one place, including logs, reflections, and anything else that emerges as the series develops. No hunting through categories. No guessing what order things came in.

You can find the hub here:

The Outlast Trials – Survivor’s Dread Hub

This doesn’t mark a change in tone — Outlast is still intense, uncomfortable, and deliberately unsettling — but it does give it a clearer structure on the site. A dedicated place for controlled panic, bad decisions, and learning the hard way.

As more entries are added, they’ll all live there. One page. One thread. No chaos in the navigation, at least.

If you’ve been following the Outlast content so far, that’s now the best place to keep track of it.

0

The Outlast Trials – Trial Log #1: Kill the Snitch

This is the video companion to my first real Trial in The Outlast Trials.
A full, uncut solo run of Kill the Snitch, set in the police station.

No highlights.
No edits.
Just forty-four minutes of slow movement, bad assumptions, and learning the hard way.

Viewer discretion advised. The Outlast Trials is intended for mature audiences and contains graphic violence, disturbing imagery, and psychological horror. This content may not be suitable for all viewers.

All Trials in this series are played solo.

The Trial

  • Trial: Kill the Snitch
  • Location: Police Station
  • Mode: Solo
  • Difficulty: Lowest available
  • Runtime: 44 minutes (full run)

Even on the lowest difficulty, the tension never really lets up.
Standing still feels dangerous, objectives act like bait, and the moment you assume you’re safe, the game corrects you.

The Video

This is a slow first run, and that’s intentional.
I wanted to understand the rules of the Trial before pushing difficulty or modifiers.

First Takeaways

  • Clearing an area doesn’t mean it stays clear
  • Objectives attract attention
  • Being stationary is often the most dangerous choice

When things went wrong, it was usually because I misjudged sound, timing, or commitment — not because the game pulled a trick.
That consistency is what made the Trial so unsettling.

Where This Fits

This video is part of Survivor’s Dread — survival horror focused on tension, pressure, and endurance rather than mastery.

I don’t know how many more Trials will follow.
If there’s another, it’ll be logged the same way.
If not, this stands as a record of the experience.

Surviving, not suffering — even when the chaos is real.

0

The Outlast Trials – A New Kind of Survival

I wasn’t planning on adding The Outlast Trials to the blog.
But sometimes a game doesn’t ask — it just gets under your skin and stays there.

After finishing the tutorial and stepping into my first real Trial, it became clear this was something different.
Not loud.
Not fast.
Just deeply uncomfortable in a way that lingers.

One Trial. No Safety Net.

I recorded my first full Trial — Kill the Snitch, set in the police station.
Solo.
Lowest difficulty.
No cuts.

It still took 44 minutes.
And it was still unsettling.

Standing still felt dangerous.
Objectives felt like bait.
And the moment I assumed I was safe, the game corrected me.

Why This Fits Here

This blog has always been about surviving pressure rather than mastering systems.
The Outlast Trials fits that idea perfectly.

  • No PvP meta
  • No optimisation race
  • No pretending you’re in control

Just learning, adapting, and getting through it.

What This Is (And Isn’t)

This isn’t a full commitment to a new series.
There’s no schedule, no roadmap, and no promise of completion.

Think of it as occasional Trial logs — documenting progression, mistakes, and moments where the game genuinely gets inside your head.

If nothing else, it’s a reminder that survival horror can still feel tense without being exhausting.

Coming Up

The first Trial log will be going live shortly, featuring the full 44-minute run.
Viewer discretion advised.

Sometimes surviving means knowing when to slow down.
The Outlast Trials makes sure you do.

This entry is part of Survivor’s Dread, where survival horror is about tension and endurance rather than mastery.

0

Dead by Daylight Isn’t Dead — But It Is Wearing Me Down

Dead by Daylight Isn’t Dead — But It Is Wearing Me Down

This is a harder post to write than I expected.
Not because I’m angry, but because Dead by Daylight is a game I used to genuinely love.
That’s what makes this year stand out — not one disaster, but how many small issues stacked up until enthusiasm quietly drained away.

On paper, Behaviour had a strong year.
In practice, it felt messy, defensive, and increasingly disconnected from the people actually playing the game.

Big Swings, Weak Follow-Through

There were real wins:

  • Major crossover moments
  • Long-requested licenses
  • Continued visibility and solid player numbers

But almost every win came with friction.
Momentum rarely turned into confidence.

The PTBs That Didn’t Listen

Twice this year, Behaviour tried to address slugging and tunnelling through PTBs.

The community response was immediate and consistent:

  • This won’t fix the problem
  • This adds frustration
  • This targets symptoms, not causes

Disagreement is normal.
Unified feedback being ignored is not.

When PTBs stop feeling like tests and start feeling like rehearsals for decisions already made, trust erodes fast.

The Livestream That Became a Case Study

The Walking Dead livestream should have been simple:

  • High-profile guest
  • One of the biggest DBD creators
  • A crossover meant to rebuild hype

Instead, it unravelled live.

Technical issues happen.
What mattered was watching the creator actively offer practical solutions — and being shut down by the developers on air.

That moment did more damage than the outage itself.
Flexibility gave way to control, and the optics flipped instantly.

Losing Michael Myers Changes Everything

This is no longer hypothetical.

Michael Myers — Dead by Daylight’s first licensed killer — is confirmed to be leaving the store.

Yes, if you own the chapter, you keep it.
The character will not disappear from existing accounts.

That does not soften the impact.

  • Myers isn’t just another license
  • He’s part of the game’s foundation
  • He proved licensed horror could work long-term in DBD

After Hellraiser, this confirms a pattern rather than an exception.
The unspoken promise that some things were permanent is gone.

“You Keep What You Bought” Isn’t Reassuring Anymore

Nothing is being taken away from existing players.
But the consequences are real:

  • New players lose access to a core horror icon
  • Foundational killers become legacy content
  • The game’s identity fragments over time

Live service games rely on trust that long-term investment matters.
That trust took a direct hit this year.

Licenses Won’t Fix Systems

Jason Voorhees would help.

  • Huge recognition
  • Immediate hype
  • A short-term surge in attention

But licenses don’t solve:

  • Tunnelling incentives
  • Slugging as pressure
  • Solo queue frustration
  • Meta fatigue

Without structural change, a new killer is a sugar rush — not a recovery.

This Isn’t Death. It’s Erosion.

Dead by Daylight isn’t dying.

What’s happening is quieter:

  • Players log in less
  • Defend the game less
  • Recommend it less
  • Shrug when things go wrong

That’s more dangerous than a loud collapse.

Why I’m Stepping Back — And Why That Makes Me Sad

This isn’t a goodbye post.

It’s a pause — and one I didn’t expect to need.

I wasn’t expecting to write a Dead by Daylight post for this blog at all.
At one point, I’d even planned a full page dedicated solely to DBD maps — layouts, loops, dead zones, the works.

That idea felt exciting then.
Now, it feels like a ship that sailed while I was still deciding whether to board.

Not because the maps stopped being interesting, but because my confidence in the game staying stable long-term quietly faded.
Without that confidence, it’s hard to justify investing that kind of time and care.

Maybe that changes one day.
I’d like it to.
But right now, this post exists not because I planned it — but because I needed to be honest about where things stand.

If Behaviour wants to steady the ship:

  • Announce less
  • Ship more
  • Fix incentives, not behaviour
  • Close the loop on feedback

Do that, and goodwill returns.

Without it, the game won’t collapse.
It’ll coast — carried by licenses and habit — while the people who cared most slowly disengage.

And that’s the part that genuinely makes me sad to write.

Clarification Note

  • Licensed content removed from sale is not removed from existing accounts
  • This post focuses on access, stability, and trust
  • Michael Myers’ removal is confirmed; broader concerns are based on precedent
0

🌊 Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 5.5: Racing the Sunbeam

5.5

“Rescue was coming. Naturally, that meant it was time to start a new project instead.”

Platform: Steam Deck
Difficulty: Survival
Recording: Lost due to file corruption — because the ocean clearly wasn’t done messing with me.

Author’s Note: Unfortunately, my recording for this session corrupted before I noticed. So this entry is reconstructed from memory — a cautionary tale for all survivors who trust autosave more than their capture software.

Message from the Heavens

It begins with the crackle of static — another message from the Sunbeam. They’ve located a landing site. They’re on their way. Forty minutes until pickup.

Forty minutes until salvation.

Naturally, I decide to ignore the pending rescue entirely and go chase the final piece of the Mobile Vehicle Bay instead. Priorities.

The Hunt for Titanium and Sanity

I swim toward the Sunbeam’s coordinates, eyes peeled for fragments. Just as I’m starting to lose hope — there it is. The final piece.

I bolt back toward my lifepod like my oxygen tank depends on it (which, to be fair, it always does). The excitement of progress pushes me faster than any propulsion cannon ever could. I check the crafting requirements — Titanium Ingot, Power Cell, a few odds and ends I already have scattered in lockers. Easy enough.

And since I clearly have time before rescue, I think, “Why not go bigger?” Enter: the Seamoth. The personal submersible of my dreams.

Building the Dream

The Mobile Vehicle Bay is first on the list. Titanium gathered, ingot forged, power cell crafted from the remains of old batteries. When it finally deploys and floats proudly on the surface, it feels like progress — real progress.

I climb aboard, ready to build my Seamoth, and immediately realise I’ve made a rookie mistake. No Titanium Ingot. Again. The ocean mocks me with its silence as I swim off once more, scavenging every bit of wreckage I can find.

Eventually, success. The Seamoth blueprint completes, and the little sub rises from the water like a gift from the deep. She’s beautiful — and mine. I climb in, listen to the AI purr, and feel an unfamiliar thing: hope.

There’s still time before the Sunbeam arrives. I point my Seamoth toward the landing site. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll make it in time to see the sky light up with something other than plasma fire.

Next: The Sky Burns

I set course for the island, my Seamoth slicing through the water like it was always meant to be there. The radio says twenty minutes until the Sunbeam arrives. The ocean says otherwise.

Continue the Journey:
Log 5: Waiting for the Sunbeam | Log 6

1

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑