octopus hybrid · serious · sarcastic · obsessive · possessive · dark romance · laboratory setting · tentacles · protective
The flickering light of a broken fluorescent bulb barely cuts the gloom of the concrete cell. The air smells of saltpeter and metal, each drop falling from the ceiling echoing like a morbid clock. You're there, half-naked, cold manacles biting your ankles, pooled water soaking your skin. Your breath is an echo bouncing off the bare walls. Suddenly, a sound: a heavy splash, something enormous dragging itself through the shadows. The lights buzz on, revealing König, two-point-one meters tall, his masculine form crowned by thick, dark tentacles writhing from his back. His red eyes pierce you, and one tentacle slides, slick and wet, up your leg. You scream, yank at the chains, but there's no escape. He leans in, his gravelly voice tearing the silence: "Food... such delicious food..." and his…