Survivor’s Log: Two in the Pipeline

Survivor’s Log: Two in the Pipeline

This is another short pipeline note rather than an announcement. Just a record of what’s coming next and why.

There are two games lined up, both relatively contained, and both chosen because they fit the kind of survival experiences I want to document right now.

Slender: The Arrival

The first is Slender: The Arrival.

I originally played it when it first released. Since then, it’s received a 10th Anniversary update that effectively rebuilds the experience and introduces new content, including an additional location.

Because of that reset, this isn’t a nostalgia run. It’s closer to approaching a familiar idea in a form that’s changed enough to warrant a fresh look.

This will sit under Survivor’s Dread, recorded as a single-attempt run, with the logs reflecting how the attempt unfolds rather than aiming for a specific outcome.

Iron Lung

The second is Iron Lung.

Interest around it has increased recently because of the upcoming film adaptation, which is what initially put it on my radar.

What actually held my attention was hearing how personal the project was, and how much of the atmosphere and intent came directly from the game itself.

I’ve been aware of the creator behind the adaptation for a while, but I’ve never followed their content directly. What stood out wasn’t who was making the film, but the decision to make a film at all.

Choosing to adapt a small, largely unknown game suggested there was something specific in the source material that made it worth that level of commitment.

That curiosity is what led me here — to the game itself, rather than the adaptation built around it.

This will be treated as a one-off survival horror run. A single attempt, recorded without embellishment, documenting the experience as it unfolds.

Nothing Locked In

There are no dates attached to either of these yet. They’ll be recorded and published when there’s space, rather than being slotted in to chase relevance.

As always, the point isn’t to follow momentum elsewhere. It’s to document things that feel worth documenting at the time.

Surviving, Not Suffering

Survivor’s Log – The Outlast Trials – Murkoff Handyman Training

The Outlast Trials: I’m Not Being Brainwashed… I’m Being Trained as a Handyman

I’m starting to suspect Murkoff isn’t reprogramming me.

They’re training me for employment.

Think about it.

  • Fix the water pressure.
  • Locate and install fuses.
  • Turn valves using maths I haven’t used since school.
  • Power generators like I work in maintenance.

All while being chased by the worst people imaginable.

By the time I’m finished with these Trials, I won’t be “reborn”.
I’ll be qualified to repair a shopping centre with nothing but a wrench and trauma.

Honestly, I’ve played a lot of horror games.
None of them have made me do so much plumbing.

The Outlast Trials hub:

The Outlast Trials


Surviving, not suffering.

The Outlast Trials – Log 5: Release the Prisoners


Difficulty: Standard
Trial: Release the Prisoners
Grade: B+


Back to The Outlast Trials hub

I’m still sticking with Standard difficulty.
This time the trial was Release the Prisoners.

The first problem was finding the key to the security room.
It reached the point where the game had to tell me exactly where it was —
all I had to do was bash a door down to get it.

The second problem was finding the security room itself.
I got lost.
Completely.

That meant dealing with various ex-pop along the way,
including the fire-wielding lunatic from the previous trial,
and someone who claimed they could see me in the dark.

Thankfully, not in my hiding spot.

No trial in the police station would be complete without Coyle,
but before I got to see him again,
an ex-pop decided to give me an extreme dose of hallucinogenics.

I genuinely thought I was going to need to find an antidote,
but thankfully it wore off on its own.

Eventually, I found a sign — an actual sign — with an arrow pointing to the security room.
From there, I managed to free the prisoners.

Then it was time to leave.

Naturally, I was given another dose of hallucinogenics.
Entirely my fault.
I could see the box was trapped.
I chose to ignore it.

I somehow survived that.
I nearly didn’t survive a third dose,
until I remembered I still had a bandage and used it to heal.

I have no idea how I found the exit area.
I just did.

Of course, Coyle was waiting for me.
I called the shuttle and got zapped by him yet again.
One more hit and I would have been done.

While waiting for the shuttle, I ran him around a parked car and hoped for the best.

In the end, I finished with a B+.

I could have done better.
But it could have been a whole lot worse.

Video

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

🩸 Derailed & Doomed: A Choo Choo Survival Diary Epilogue: The Train That Didn’t

🩸 Derailed & Doomed — Epilogue: The Train That Didn’t

“Somehow, I lived. Charles didn’t. And yes, I’m framing that sentence.”

Series complete — one survivor, one destroyed monster, zero refunds for train tickets.

Final Whistle: What Victory Looked Like

The last chase was part boss fight, part scrap economy, part improvised flamethrower cookout.
I juggled weapons, patched a screaming locomotive with spare metal like a field surgeon with duct tape,
and learned that momentum beats panic nine times out of ten. On the tenth time, you just pray your train is pointing the right way.

Charles tried the usual: ambush, vanish, reappear somewhere inconvenient. I answered with speed upgrades,
a trigger-happy finger, and the stubborn belief that if I kept the train moving, fate would have to jog to keep up.
When the smoke cleared, only one of us was still on the tracks. Spoiler: it was me.

Why This Game? (And Why Now?)

I first saw Choo Choo Charles on TikTok while it was still in development — one of those “this shouldn’t work, but it absolutely does” moments.
It stuck with me. When I started Survivor Incognito, Charles rolled back onto my radar like a bad idea with great marketing.
This run was me finally cashing that ticket: a strange, scrappy, horror-tinged road trip that fit my brand of portable chaos a little too well.

Triumph, But Make It Practical: What I’d Tell Future Me

  • Speed first, always. You can’t out-tank what you can outrun.
  • The bug spray is your friend. It doesn’t just slow Charles down — it buys you breathing room, literally.
  • Scrap is a second health bar. Hoard it like snacks before a boss rush.
  • Plan your egg route. Less sightseeing, more line-of-best-fit between objectives.
  • Permadeath rule kept me honest. Every choice mattered because strikes mattered.

Lore-ish Debrief: Aftermath on the Island

With Charles gone, the island felt louder in a different way — wind in the trees instead of whistles in the dark.
The tracks creaked like they’d finally exhaled. People came out of their houses and stopped pretending the storm was “just weather.”
It’s not a fairy-tale ending. It’s a train line with fewer teeth marks.

What the Run Meant (to Me and the Blog)

This wasn’t just a boss fight; it was my first proper win added to the blog’s record — proof that I don’t just curate chaos,
I occasionally navigate it. It’s also a reminder that Survivor Incognito isn’t about masochistic difficulty;
it’s about tension you can feel and choices you can live with (even if some of them involve flaming arachnid locomotives).

Supercut: Coming Soon

I’m assembling a full-series supercut — the whole journey from first toot to final kaboom — so you can watch the story unfold without jumping between posts.
It’ll land here when it’s ready.

Credits, Thanks, & Tracks Ahead

Thanks for riding along — in comments, on the blog, and across the socials. Next up: more survival, more diaries, and definitely more poor decisions told with a straight face.
If you’re new here, the hub has everything in one place.

Continue the Journey

🔙 Read the Final Battle Log |
🗂️ Derailed & Doomed — Series Hub |
👀 Survivor’s Dread — Horror Series Hub

🛠 Something Big Is Brewing

A quick update post from me.

Behind the scenes, I’m working on something… complicated. It’s going to take time, screenshots, formatting, and far too many tables. Possibly a mild headache or two.

I’m not saying what it is. Not yet. But if you’ve followed the blog for a while, you’ll probably guess. It involves survival. It involves chaos. It may or may not involve dead livestock and unsafe generators.

Content might slow slightly while this gets stitched together, but regular playthroughs will continue soon.

Until then, stay sneaky. And maybe don’t blow any skill checks near me.

— Survivor Incognito

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