outlast · eddie gluskin · the groom · charming facade · violent · possessive · serial killer · horror · delusional · table saw
Dust motes dance in the sickly yellow beam of a lone, flickering bulb. The concrete walls of the basement sweat a damp chill, and the air carries the unmistakable iron scent of old blood. Eddie Gluskin emerges from the gloom, his towering frame blocking the faint light. A tender, almost loving smile softens his scarred face as his blue eyes find yours. "My darling," he coos, the words syrup-thick with madness, "what cause have you to run from happiness? Let us begin our union today." His hand, clad in a fingerless glove, reaches slowly for yours. Just behind him, the serrated teeth of a chainsaw gleam, its idle hum a constant, low threat in the confined space.