- Rick Trager: You know, I'm a bit worried how much time you've been spending with Father Martin, I know, I hope you haven't been letting him confuse you with all his "holier than thou" bible thumping. Uh, no offense to the man, but I sometimes worry he might just be a little bit crazy.
- Rick Trager: It's understandable, people get scared. They're as likely to turn to god as anything else. God died with the gold standard, we're onto a more concrete faith now. You have to rob Paul to pay Peter, there's no other way.
- Rick Trager: Murder is the simplest form, but what happens when all the money is gone? Well money becomes a matter of faith, and that's what I'm here for. To make you, believe!
- [Trager starts cutting off one of Miles' fingers]
- Rick Trager: You paying attention?
- [Trager slaps Miles]
- Rick Trager: Don't pass out on me. There's still a lot for you absorb!
- Rick Trager: There! Better now, right? You understand what we achieved here? We made the consumer into the means of production. This thing, is gonna sell itself!
- Rick Trager: You know, I love the mountain air up here at night. You wanna head out, take a strole? Go ahead, I'll wait here. Go on, run free!
- [chuckles]
- Rick Trager: I'm in no hurry. No? Alright. Nose to the grindstone, I like that. Okay then. Right this way.
- Patient #1: Kill me... Kill me...
- Patient #2: [Screams and shaking on gurney]
- Rick Trager: Shhh, shh. You weren't putting that tongue to any use anyway. Truth be told, I was just tired of licking my own stamps.
- Miles Upshur: [in a note, after recording Trager's death] How to make Trager juice. Step 1: Squeeze.
- Father Martin: [Finding Miles] And who are you, then?
- [Checks Miles camera]
- Father Martin: I... I see. Merciful God, you have sent me an apostle. Guard your life, son, you have a calling.
- Father Martin: [Tied to a cross] My Job. You alone shall escape to tell them. This is your penultimate act of witness. The promise of the prophets was always freedom from death. And here it is. You will watch and record my death, my resurrection. And together we will be free. You are no longer in any danger. I've fixed the elevator. It will take you to freedom. We will all of us be free. Now, my son.
- [a follower ignites the pyres and Father Martin is burned alive]
- Stephenson: They killed us. They got out. The variants. You can't fight them. Have to hide. Can unlock the main doors from security control. You have to get the fuck out of this terrible place.
- [Dies]
- Rick Trager: [after returning to the now-empty room where he was holding Miles] Fuck! Fuck! Really? You're gonna walk on me? If there is one thing I cannot goddamned stand, it's a quitter! Come on!
- Miles Upshur: [Written note] Fuck this place. Seriously, just fuck this place. Dying keeps moving lower on the list of the worst things that could happen to me here.
- Miles Upshur: [Written note] I'm inside. Bodies everywhere. Blood. Burn marks. Heads lined up like bottles behind a bar, dead Murkoff scientists hung from the ceiling, their badges say "Murkoff Advanced Research Sytems." Murkoff's long time M.O. has been to profit off the exploitation of supposed charity. Fuck the third world and bankroll another billion. How did Murkoff think they would make money off a building full of crazy people? There's some kind of tactical cop pinned like a pig on a spit. Tells me to get the fuck out and then dies. Would have been a good thing to hear when I could still leave the way I came.
- Miles Upshur: [Written note] I start feeling sick just looking at this place. Mount Massive Asylum, shut down amid scandal and government secrecy in 1971, reopened under the 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 a 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.
- Chris Walker: We have to contain it. You were here, weren't you? Little pig. I'll find all you whores. Patience. The cornerstone of enhance interrogation, endurance of the man asking questions, not the subject. We will have the truth.
- Miles Upshur: [Written note] I'm already beat to hell, picking broken glass out of my scalp, couple cracked ribs. Nearly killed by a deformed giant, looks like somebody tried to fuck-start his head with a cheese grater. He throws me through a wall, knocks me unconscious. I wake up and some doughy old man with a face like an alcoholic kiddy fiddler in a homemade priest outfit calls me his Apostle. Not a job I asked for. There are words scrawled in blood everywhere. I'm getting an ugly feeling in my gut that the priest is writing them, for my benefit.
- Miles Upshur: [Written note] So much blood in the water I can smell it. Like putting a penny in your mouth when you were a kid. The whispers are making more sense, I'm looking for static. It's like an itch.
- Miles Upshur: [Written note] Trager. Sick fucker cut my fingers off. Has tortured and mangled dozens of patients, I watched him murder another one, nothing I could do about it. Talks like a white collar douchebag, probably has a set of golf clubs in the trunk of hi Audi. I bet the rest of my fingers he was Murkoff's top brass before whatever's infected this place changed him. I want out of this place. I want my fucking fingers back. I want to see Trager die.
- Miles Upshur: [Written note] The big fucker is stalking me. Found a patient file for a Chris Walker, ex-military police, several tours in Afghanistan. A lot of blood in this place is on his hands. But not all of it.
- Father Martin: [Injects a sedative into Miles] I'm sorry, my son, I didn't want to have to do this to you. But you can't leave, not yet. There is so much for you to witness.
- [Turns Miles to the camera screen]
- Father Martin: Will you see it? Can you?
- [Murkoff private forces are being thrown around by an invisible force]
- Father Martin: Our Lord, the Walrider, tearing His truth into the unbelievers. The only way out of this place is the truth. Accept the gospel and all doors will open before you.
- Pyromaniac: I had to burn it. All of it. Murkoff took so much from us. Used us. Turned us into these things because nobody cares about a few forgotten lunatics. So let it burn. Burn the whole god damned thing down. Get out. If you want to live. You can get out through the kitchen.
- Interviewer: ...exit interview recorded December 27th, 1985 in Los Alamos, New Mexico. Clearance Sierra Alpha. Subject Dr. Rudolf Wernicke. 14866.
- Wernicke: The films are real.
- Interviewer: There was no alteration to the footage at all? No trickery?
- Wernicke: None.
- Interviewer: In June of 1943 you recorded three instances of spontaneous bleeding. A half dozen test subjects began to develop brain tumors.
- Wernicke: Yes. The autopsies revealed that the tumors were pure lead.
- Interviewer: It killed them? Can you explain why the results could not be reproduced in the United States?
- Wernicke: I have my theories. My homeland, in those years. It's impossible to understand the things we felt. What we believed. The overwhelming fear. Ecstatic rage and... English words are insufficient. More than hope. A human mind in that environment is capable of extraordinary things.
- Interviewer: You're saying the experiment needed...
- Wernicke: A proximity to death. To overwhelming madness. Only a test subject who had witnessed enough horror was capable of activating the engine.
- Interviewer: Do believe your test subjects achieved something supernatural?
- Wernicke: No.
- Interviewer: Do you think they contacted something supernatural?
- Wernicke: Nothing is supernatural.
- Interviewer: Then what was it? You said Project Walrider was a gateway. A gateway to what?