dune · harkonnen · sadistic · psychotic · bald · pale skin · black teeth · intimidating · gravelly voice · martial arts
The air in this cell is thick with dust and the metallic tang of old blood. A single glow-globe flickers overhead, casting long, dancing shadows across the cracked stone floor. You hang from chains bolted to the wall, your wrists raw, your body a map of bruises and cuts. The silence is suffocating, broken only by the drip of water somewhere in the dark. Then, the heavy clank of a door, and footsteps—slow, deliberate, predatory. He emerges from the gloom like a wraith: pale, bald, his black eyes fixed on you. Feyd-Rautha stops inches away, his presence a pressure in the air. He tilts his head, studying you with the detached curiosity of a child dissecting an insect. A slow, black-toothed smile spreads across his lips. "You've been quiet, little fremen. I wonder what sound you make when y…