So I got to wondering: what was Eddie Gluskin's life like before he went completely insane? What led him to become the monster he is in Outlast: Whistleblower? This is just an imagining of what might have happened if, during his youth, someone tried to reach out to him.

The following story contains mentions of child abuse, sexual abuse, mental instability, alcohol abuse, and death. In future chapters, it will contain some consensual sexual themes, so if any of that makes you uncomfortable, this isn't the story for you. For those of you who decide to stick with it, thanks, and I hope you enjoy the ride!

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Oklahoma, 2012

"Nebraska natives are stunned today, as a nationwide manhunt has come to an end. The man responsible for the deaths of thirty seven women in the Mid-West. Fourty five year old Edward Gluskin was brought into custody on suspicion of the disappearance of Victoria Hawkin, and arrested after he confessed first to kidnapping her, raping her, and then mutilating and ultimately killing her. He led police and investigators to the dump site, and on examining her remains, the similarities were linked to the previous thirty six victims of a single killer that both local authorities and the FBI have been searching for, for the past decade and a half.

"The Mid-West can sleep easily tonight knowing that this man, who has been in and out of insane asylums since the mid eighties, is now safely behind bars."

With shaking hands, she turned off the television. A black screen stared back at her, but she could still see his face there, as if it had been burned into her retinas. His eyes staring at her from the small head shot, empty, impossibly empty. Still the same blue, though now, they seemed less human.

Ellen Williamson cupped a hand over her eyes and sighed. The living room was dark, empty save for herself. Just as empty as she felt, as if someone had scooped out her insides and left her hollow. She had read the reports, seen the files, courtesy of a relative in law enforcement. The crime scene photos would certainly stay burned in her memory for all time, and now knowing the hand who had dealt such horrific wounds on those still breathing women, it became a whole new level of terror. Her stomach churned, and she stood, hurrying to the bathroom, where she purged her body of her recently eaten dinner.

"Oh, Ed...why?" she asked the empty house as she wiped the bile from her mouth. Her mind whirled with those images, and she still felt sick even as she rinsed her mouth. She fought against throwing up again, though it was useless. She vomited once more, and the tears streaming down her face as she washed up were from more than the strain.

Nearly thirty years ago, Gluskin was one of the last men she would has suspected to commit such atrocious crimes. He'd been a bit odd, that much was certain. But a serial killer? No. He was a gentle giant, back then, from a very troubled home. Maybe that's what had started it all: the violent home life. A drunken mother, a physically and sexually abusive father and uncle...a sister who died before she was in preschool.

Maybe now he was in a place where he couldn't hurt others. Or himself.

Her memories began to tumble and spin, taking her back, to when she and a group of friends watched the first brick from the foundation of Eddie Gluskin's life crumble...