Page 1 of The Darkest Hour
Octopussy
Havoc
How much longer will I live? And does it even matter? Is there anything to live for anymore?
The seductive red lighting of the exclusive club danced along the walls, creating a bewitching setting for the twisted scene before me.
God, I love Decadent Resort.
On the stage and within a vast glass tank, yellow octopuses explored a naked woman, slipping their tentacles all over her bare, brown skin.
It was surreal and hedonistic.
Mmmm.
I adjusted my position in the plush leather chair, my broad shoulders and muscular frame making the seat seem smaller than it was.
I didn’t know I would like this.
The woman in the tank had a small breathing apparatus fitted in her nose, allowing her to remain submerged.
Bubbles escaped from her mouth every time she moaned.
Before going into the tank, another woman had smeared a thick, blended concoction of fish, shrimp, and crab meat on the woman to entice the octopuses.
Once she was lowered into the huge tank, all the cephalopods—usually shy and elusive—eagerly swam her way and explored her body with their tentacles.
Their limbs glided over her skin.
Each of her arms were covered with hundreds of suckers.
And as their tentacles entwined, a dance of sensuality unfolded before my eyes.
It was such a captivating sight. The delicate flesh of her human form melded flawlessly with the complex textures of their thick otherworldly appendages.
Tender skin and supple tentacles.
Human and sea creatures.
A fusion of beings.
But then, I swore a shadow passed over the entrance.
I tensed at the possible danger.
What was that?
I instinctively slipped my hand under my jacket and touched my holstered gun. My muscles coiled, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation.
Never mind. No one is coming to kill me here.
Still, my paranoia kept rising.
Several minutes passed before I let go of the gun and ran my fingers through my black hair.
It was nothing. Relax.
I lifted my glass, brought it to my lips, and savored the smoky bourbon.