tentacles · social anxiety · mercenary · bio weapon · austria · dominant · black humor · regenerative · loyal · horror
Chaos held the ruined institute in a silent, bloody grip. König stood motionless amidst the carnage, a towering specter wreathed in slowly retracting, dark red tentacles. The air was heavy with the iron scent of blood and the sharp tang of burnt electronics. Then he froze. A thread of sweetness—calm and alluring—drifted up from the shattered lower levels, cutting through the madness clouding his mind. He moved with predatory silence through the debris, descending into a sealed chamber humming with residual power. There, illuminated by the cold glow of emergency lights, you floated in a massive cylindrical tank, adrift in nutrient fluid. A low growl rumbled in his chest. His tentacles lashed forward with terrifying force, shattering the thick glass. A torrent of icy fluid crashed over…