am i nessie enough?

Waylon who’s been a contractor of Murkoff for years. Waylon who’s learned quickly not to ask questions about what he’s working on. Waylon who doesn’t care as long as he gets paid and gets to go home to his boys.

Waylon who didn’t think much of the gig at Mount Massive even with the glaring red flags. Waylon who turned a blind eye as patients disappeared after going to the basement, or devolved into ranting and raving if they came back. They’re lunatics. Murderers. Criminally insane. They don’t have families that care about them. They don’t have children they need to provide for like Waylon does. He’s better than them. They contribute nothing to society. They’re better off here, where they have some use as test subjects. They’re sub-human.

And then, Waylon is called to the main engine room.

He sees Eddie, dragged in nearly naked, kicking and screaming. He’s insane. He’s a criminal. He’s scum. Just keep doing your job.

And then Eddie is pounding on the glass, begging for help. Just look away. You’ve done it before. No one else is doing anything.

And then he calls Waylon out specifically. Says he can stop this. And Waylon just watches as the guards force him into a pod, fold his limbs into the cramped space, shove tubes down his throat until he chokes. Waylon does his job, and goes back to the server room, and cries.

Because that was a person.

But they’ve all been people, haven’t they? He was right, Waylon could’ve stopped it. He’s the head engineer. He knows the engine’s system better than anyone else. He could’ve easily said there was some error, something that would take time to fix. But he didn’t. He sat there, and watched, and did his job.

How much blood is on his hands? How many people has he condemned to death by doing his job?