Eight Pages – A Slender: The Arrival Survival Diary Log 2: Strike One

Eight Pages – Log 2: Strike One

Platform: Steam Deck
Rule Set: Apex Predator Rule Active (1 / 3 Strikes)

Video: First strike recorded, a choke point mistake, and a second attempt under pressure (no commentary)


The forest drew first blood.

A little transparency before we begin properly. I had already stepped into this map once, collected the scrapbook items, and then realised I wasn’t recording. That’s why those pickups don’t show the usual notification. A strong start. Completely intentional. Obviously.

We continue where Log 1 left us. Survival instincts of a potato fully engaged, I head deeper into Oakside Park. As I pass what I assume is the canoe rental building — based entirely on a large sign suggesting that it is — my character slows. I hear something. It sounds like whispers carried on the air. Or maybe just wind doing a very good impression.

The pace returns to normal, but something has shifted. This is where the chapter really begins.

I reach the park layout sign and stop. The paths are mapped out clearly. Landmarks marked. I try to commit as much of it to memory as I can. I know this is going to matter later. Behind the sign is the first page. I take it.

And then I hear that sound.

It’s been over ten years since I last heard it, but it hasn’t lost its edge. That low, deliberate cue that signals one thing and one thing only: Slender has taken his first step.

Eight pages are scattered across the park. I need to collect them before he catches me. Simple objective. Complicated execution.

I didn’t make it to eight.

On page five, I entered a building. It had one entrance and one exit. I knew that. I went in anyway. I grabbed the page and turned around. He was already standing in the doorway.

No dramatic chase. No narrow escape. Just a blocked exit and rising static. I tried to push past him. He didn’t move. The screen filled with noise and the forest claimed its first strike.

Strike One.

Before going back in, I want to peel the curtain back for a moment.

This map never changes its shape. The paths stay where they are. The landmarks don’t move. There are nine key locations across the park, and eight of them will contain a page. Which eight changes each run, but the layout itself remains constant.

Slender’s behaviour escalates with every page collected. The more you gather, the more aggressive he becomes. By page seven, he is relentless. Sprinting feels like control, but stamina drains quickly, and once you commit to a bad position late-game, there’s little room for error.

Entering a single-exit building at five pages wasn’t unfair. It was poor timing. The forest didn’t cheat. It capitalised.

So I went back in.

Same park. Same layout. Different page placements. This time I found that same building early and cleared it immediately. I didn’t want to face that choke point near the end again. With the landmarks fixed in place, it becomes possible to track where you’ve been. Once you confirm a location has no page, you eliminate it from consideration. The park starts to shrink.

He appeared several times. Close enough to raise the static. Close enough to make me question my route. But not close enough to end it.

Seven pages collected. One missing.

I reached a fork in the path and hesitated. I took the right route first. It led back toward the car. Not what I needed. I doubled back, expecting him to be waiting. He wasn’t.

The other path led to a tent. And pinned against it, almost casually, was page eight.

I grabbed it. The footsteps stopped.

He appeared behind me. My character suddenly decided cardio was a priority and broke into a sprint before everything faded to black.

Map cleared.

But the forest has already taken one strike.

Two remain.

Log 2 Takeaways

  • A single-exit building at five pages is a calculated risk, not bad luck.
  • The map layout stays the same — page placement does not.
  • Slender escalates with every page collected.
  • Clearing choke points early changes the late-game pressure.
  • Strike One proves the Apex Predator Rule is active.
Continue the journey:

Log 1 |
Log 2 (You are here) |
Log 3

Eight Pages – A Slender: The Arrival Survival Diary Log 1: For Sale, No Exit

Eight Pages – Log 1: For Sale, No Exit

Platform: Steam Deck
POV: Handheld camera (battery + recording timer on-screen)

Video: First steps into Oakside: the house, the generator, and Oakside Park (no commentary)



I start filming outside a giant “Land for Sale” sign, and somehow end the night being told to “FIND ME LAUREN.”
Normal property viewings don’t usually escalate like this.

My POV is through a handheld camera, complete with battery life and a recording timer in the corner.
I’ve no idea if the timer will behave across multiple recordings (because I’m doing this over several),
but we’ll find out together.

The first thing I see is a huge sign advertising land for sale, telling me to contact Kate.
I’m supposedly driving somewhere important. I’m just not told where or why.

The road is blocked by a fallen tree.
We don’t know who did it, but I’m running the theory that Kate did.
Easier to drop a tree across the road than take down a massive sign with your name on it.
Either way, I don’t take it as a no.
Instead of getting back in the car and leaving, I go for a hike.

The light drops fast.
Oakside might be a mountain town, but surely physics still applies.
Either the sun is speedrunning the sky, or my character timed this trip perfectly for sunset.
By the time I reach a house—likely part of the land Kate was selling—it’s fully night.

Both the front door and garage door are open.
I let myself in.
Because that’s always a strong opening move.

The House: Half Powered, Fully Suspicious

The house is confusing.
I check one phone: no power.
I check another: there’s a message on the answering machine.
So either one half of the house has electricity and the other doesn’t,
or the wiring here follows horror rules instead of logic.

I find scattered notes and a flashlight.
The flashlight becomes essential immediately.
The camera throws out a brief burst of static during my tour,
which is the kind of detail you pretend you didn’t notice.

The location is good, though.
Remote. Quiet. Surrounded by forest.
If you ignore the notes, the power issues, and the open doors,
it’s practically ideal.

There’s a locked door.
The key is in the bathroom.
Exactly where I’d hide something important.

The Locked Room: Paper Walls and Beacon Talk

The unlocked room is covered in paper.
Every wall layered with writing.
Panic used as wallpaper.

One note mentions someone being scared of a beacon.
That’s not a phrase you want to read at night with limited battery.
Add it to the list of things to ask Kate.

I notice the back gate is open.
Instead of leaving in my car like a sensible person,
I decide to go through it.
Survival instincts of a potato.

Before that, a quick go on the slide.
No reason.
Just committing to the bit.

Generator Detour and a Burned House

A short walk down the path leads to a generator.
It turns on easily.
Too easily.

Nearby is a burned down house and another note.
I read it.
A small child appears in front of me, back turned.

I move around to see their face.
Quick jump scare.
I leave.
For once, a decent decision.

I circle the house briefly.
Not lost.
Just getting steps in.

Eventually I reach a sign: Oakside Park.

Oakside Park: “FIND ME LAUREN”

I’ve already entered two buildings uninvited.
One more won’t hurt.

Inside, graffiti covers more paper in the same style as the locked room.
Large, direct, personal:
FIND ME LAUREN.

I’m guessing I’m Lauren.
Because Oakside doesn’t seem interested in subtlety.

Log 1 Takeaways

  • The camera HUD keeps me informed and mildly stressed.
  • Kate’s land sale feels more like a trap than an advert.
  • Sunset in Oakside runs on horror time.
  • If a key is easy to find, it was meant to be.
  • “FIND ME LAUREN” suggests this is personal.
Continue the journey:

Log 1 (You are here) |
Log 2

Isolation Protocol: An Allen Isolation Survival Diary – Log 1: Five Chances on Sevastopol

Isolation Protocol Log 1: Five Chances on Sevastopol

Platform: Steam Deck
Mode: Survival
Rule Set:

The Apex Predator Rule
— The Xenomorph gets 5 chances. On the fifth one, it wins.

Video: Boarding Sevastopol, spacewalk disaster, and first exploration (no commentary)

When the title screen opens with Ellen Ripley’s final message, it doesn’t feel nostalgic. It feels like a warning.

Amanda Ripley is welding when Samuels approaches with the one thing she’s been waiting for:
possible information about her mother.
The ship is Sevastopol.
The invitation is optional in theory, mandatory in practice.

If she wants answers, she goes.
So we go.

Wake, Dress, Invade Privacy

First objective: get dressed.
Hypersleep apparently strips you of both consciousness and wardrobe.

A quick conversation with Samuels and Taylor follows.
Then I discover the Torrens’ cyber security policy is “hope no one clicks anything.”
Taylor’s personal folder is right there.
Yes, I look.

I grab the briefing document from the bridge before contacting Sevastopol.
The reply we receive sounds less like a welcome and more like a suggestion to stay away.

Naturally, we ignore it.

The Spacewalk That Went Wrong

The transition to Sevastopol is done via spacewalk.
It lasts exactly as long as it needs to before everything explodes.

I’m thrown clear.
Samuels and Taylor disappear.
I drift toward the station alone.

The adventure officially begins the moment isolation becomes literal.

Arrival and Immediate Regret

Sevastopol feels abandoned but not empty.
The lighting flickers.
The walls are layered in graffiti that reads less like vandalism and more like confession.

I let my inner loot goblin take control:

  • Scrap? Mine.
  • Flare? Mine.
  • If it flashes, it’s coming with me.

I find a terminal confirming the station is being decommissioned.
Apparently that process includes cutting power almost everywhere.
Dark corridors. Locked doors. Minimal lighting.
Excellent design choice.

Maps, Power, and Door Code 0340

I locate a map for the Arrival and Departure Lounge and manage to restore partial power.
Lights return.
Doors do not.

Access is tied to the computer systems, because of course it is.

I also find a door code: 0340.
I haven’t found the door yet, but I’m holding onto that number.
Horror games reward memory.
Or punish the lack of it.

Movement in the Dark

Once I unlock the next section, I see people running.
Actual survivors.

That confirms two things:

  • I’m not alone.
  • Whatever they’re running from is still here.

And under the Apex Predator Rule, I already know who the top of the food chain is.

The Apex Predator Rule Begins

This run follows the

Apex Predator Rule
.

The Xenomorph gets five chances.
On the fifth successful kill, it wins.

No resets.
No rewinds.
No “that didn’t count.”

Sevastopol now has a scoreboard.
And I’ve just stepped onto the field.

Continue the journey:
Next Log

Outlast – Entry 1: Red Flags as a Route Map

Platform: Steam Deck
Run Type: Apex Predator Rule (3 strikes and I’m out)
Location: Mount Massive Asylum
Status: Alive, unsettled, and still walking forward

Series Hub:

Outlast – Apex Predator Run Hub


I’m driving toward Mount Massive Asylum with a camera on the passenger seat and an email from a whistleblower glowing like a warning label.

The message is simple: bad things are happening here. Come see it for yourself.

My character treats this less like a warning and more like a treasure map.

The red flags stack up quickly. Trespassing. Isolation. A building that looks abandoned even when it isn’t.

I break in. The asylum responds by killing the lights almost immediately.

I continue onward anyway.

The First Hint (Ignored)

The atmosphere is wrong. Not just old or decayed — more like the building is aware I’m here.

I find a man impaled on a massive spike. He’s still alive long enough to give me advice.

“Get out.”

It’s the clearest instruction I’ll receive all night. I ignore it.

I try to leave. I can’t. The only way forward is through the security room.

Going back the way I came is no longer an option. Horror logic has made that decision for me.

Chris Walker Makes a Point

I don’t reach the security room before the asylum escalates.

A very large, half-naked man appears, calls me “little pig”, and throws me through a window.

I land one floor below, alive, shaken, and very aware that my camera is not a weapon.

He doesn’t chase me.

That somehow makes it worse.

A Higher Calling

Not long after, I encounter a man dressed like a priest — or at least someone borrowing the aesthetic.

He tells me I have a higher calling.

Then he leaves me alone in the dark.

I explore further. The inmates are hostile. Interviews are cancelled.

Eventually, I find what I actually need: the keycard for the security office.

Security Room Problems

I swipe the keycard and prepare for progress.

Instead, the religious man reappears. He knows I’ve been watching him through the cameras.

To prove the point, he shuts down the generator.

The asylum drops onto backup power.

Objective: restart the generator in the basement.

The game tells me to hide.

I listen.

Through the door comes the large man again. I record him, because my character keeps confusing documentation with safety.

Files I’ve picked up finally give him a name.

Chris Walker.

I now need to go to the basement.

I have a feeling Chris Walker will be there first.

Video

Apex Predator Rule Reminder

  • Every death counts as one strike.
  • Three strikes ends the run.
  • Panic, curiosity, and bad decisions are not exemptions.

Continue the journey:
Outlast – Entry 1 (You are here) |
Outlast – Entry 2

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.

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.

Survivor’s Dread: Platform 8 – Last Train to Nowhere

“The train keeps moving. Every carriage promises freedom. Every anomaly promises erasure.”

The Setup

Platform 8 is the companion nightmare to Exit 8. Same rules: walk, notice anomalies, survive. Miss them and the world resets. Only this time, you’re trapped on a subway train that never stops. Played on the Steam Deck with Loop = Life: every reset is a dead survivor. Only one makes it off the train. Like Exit 8, this was my very first time playing — learning the rules on the fly, with resets as my only teachers.

The Diary

First survivor: Reached the end of the carriage and saw a figure standing at the exit. I didn’t realise you’re meant to move when the lights flick on. The lights came, the figure moved faster than me, and I was erased.

Second survivor: This time the exit door stood wide open, platform beckoning. I trusted it. I stepped toward freedom. The world snapped back to the first carriage, and so did I. Survivors don’t get second chances for gullibility.

Third survivor: Red water pooled in the aisle. The right move was to sprint. I didn’t. Instead, I shut the door on the carriage like that would help. The reset came anyway, cruel and quiet.

Fourth survivor: I let curiosity win. Instead of spotting the anomaly, I pushed through to the next carriage just to see what would happen. The answer: reset. Straight back to carriage one, another survivor erased for being too nosy.

Final survivor: Paranoia sharpened me. I ran when I had to, stopped when the lights demanded it, and turned back from lies. At last, the train gave up its prisoner. I stepped onto the real platform, escaped the loop, and lived. Luck played its part too. Some of the anomalies repeated from earlier failures, familiar traps I finally knew how to dodge. That memory, plus paranoia, was enough to carry me to the platform.

The Video

Here’s the full successful run, captured on Steam Deck:

Survivor’s Thoughts

The corridor in Exit 8 felt endless. The train in Platform 8 feels worse — claustrophobic, restless, each carriage identical until it isn’t. Four survivors erased before one finally broke free. That’s the real distinction: Exit 8 is a test of attention, Platform 8 is a puzzle box. Both erase you for mistakes, but in different ways.

Continue the Journey

See where it started with Exit 8 – Lost in the Corridor, or browse more nightmares in the Survivor’s Dread Hub.

Survivor’s Dread: Exit 8 – Lost in the Corridor

“The corridor doesn’t need to chase you. It just waits for you to blink.”

The Setup

Exit 8 is a short horror game where survival means noticing anomalies in a looping subway corridor. Miss one and you reset. I played it on the Steam Deck under my Loop = Life rule: every reset is a death, only one survivor escapes.

The Diary

First survivor: I spotted the red water in corridor two. I caught the wall-man in corridor four. Each time I turned back, rewarded by the corridor’s shift. By corridor six, I thought I was safe. Then—blink—reset. No attack, no warning. Something small slipped past me, and that survivor was gone.

What I missed: Door 3 handle placement (corridor six) — misaligned compared to earlier loops.

Second survivor: Paranoia sharpened my vision. Lights flickered and died. A man with a briefcase walked far too fast. A poster grew eyes that tracked me. A face stared from the ceiling. I turned back every time, trusted my instincts, and finally—finally—the real exit appeared. One survivor made it out. The corridor kept the rest.

The Video

Here’s the full successful run, captured raw on Steam Deck:

Survivor’s Thoughts

Exit 8 isn’t about combat. It’s about attention and paranoia. You can catch the obvious anomalies and still fail to a blink. That’s the horror here: survival through vigilance, failure through doubt.

Continue the Journey

More eerie one-shot diaries live in the Survivor’s Dread Hub. Next stop: Platform 8 — the train that never ends.

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