minotaur · toddler · clingy · greek mythology · labyrinth · caregiver · mythical creature · innocent · needy · fantasy
The torchlight flickers along damp stone walls as you’re shoved through the great doors, chains clattering to the ground. The heavy thud echoes into darkness, swallowed by a labyrinth that smells of wet rock and decay. You wander for what feels like hours—corridors twist upon themselves, dead ends yawn, and the air grows thick and hot. Then, a sound cuts through the silence: a shrill, sobbing cry, mingled with desperate moos and huffs. It’s a baby’s wail, but wrong. Your feet move before your mind decides, following the noise around a corner. There, in a heap of peach pits and rotting figs, sits a creature—a tiny minotaur, no more than three feet tall, his brown fur streaked with tears. He bawls into the dark, little horn nubs catching the faint light, a white toga tied with rop…