All you could see was blue.
Submerged completely, the cold biting into your skin. Enclosed within four panels of glass, you were quite literally imprisoned. Fingers trailing over the glass, your palm closes into a fist, clenching it in frustration.
Raising a hand, you bring it down onto the glass, hoping against hope to see the spidery starts of cracks, some sort of weakness in this prison of yours.
Nothing. It only worsened the throbbing pain biting at your knuckles. Throwing your hands up in frustration, all you could do was sink back down. Catching a glimpse of your lower half, you bit back a groan.
Where your legs would normally be, a fish’s tail was there instead. Scales shimmering, fins spread out, gracefully flowing with every breath you took. Gills on either side of your cheeks, filtering the air from within. Bubbles form, puffy little shapes drifting upwards, towards the surface.
At least something’s free in this cage.
Your walls shake slightly. The imprint of a hand, pressed tightly against the glass. You rush over, placing your hand over it. Eyes wide open, pounding desperately against the walls. Your mouth moves in a silent plea.
A velvety voice, crooning into your ears. Dripping with malice, hissing and spitting. Mismatched eyes gleamed with cruel amusement as they watch your every movement.
Jade Leech. Your upperclassman. He should be worried about you, right? Maybe even help you get or of this cage…
He tilts his head, a curious gesture. Walking around the tank slowly, admiring every inch of you. Jade seemed in no hurry to help you out. You heart sank with every step he took.
“Jade… what have you done?”
He feigns ignorance, before turning behind him, beckoning someone closer.
“Azul, you’ve really outdone yourself this time.”
You felt yourself freeze, blood growing ice cold.
A prideful laugh, from someone rather satisfied with himself. A figure emerges from the darkness, curls of grey sliding down his scalp, perfectly framing his face within. He strolls right up to the tank, a smug smirk playing on his lips.
Azul Ashengrotto, the Head of Octavinelle himself. He presses his palm against the glass himself, breath slightly fogging it up. A misty patch of white, pressing against the wall of the tank. He watches you almost gleefully, a sparkle in those grey eyes of his.
“Of course! The potion was my magnum opus, after all. I’m glad that prefect drank it all~”
Drank it all? Your mind flashes back to the previous day. A vague memory of Azul offering you a drink, asking for your thoughts on Mostro Lounge’s newest recipe. How he seemed so thrilled when you chugged it all down, clasping your hands in his.
Balling your hand into a fist, you trash against the walls once more, startling the two. Throwing your tail against the glass, making your tank shudder with every syllable.
Rapping the tank sharply with his knuckles, Azul gives you a small smile. A gentle, horribly patronising expression. You scowl, before slinking off to the back of the tank, far as possible from the two.
Ripples creep across the surface of the tank, the dull splash of something entering the water. Whipping around, your shoulders tense, fight or flight instincts going into overdrive. Heart pounding wildly, throwing itself against your rib cage rapidly.
Scaly arms wrap around your waist, webbed fingers pressing deep into your flesh. Upon ensuring a secure hold across your body, they squeeze as tightly as possible, pulling you closer into them.
You gasp, gagging from the pressure. A shudder, as a body slides against yours, fitting itself against your back. You could feel a tremble, someone laughing, that movement flowing through your skin.
“Shrimpy~ You’re so cute like this!”
A clawed finger dragged across your chin, pressing into you ever so slightly. A tail wraps across yours, intertwining like the fingers of lovers.
An affectionate gesture… if he wasn’t literally squeezing the living daylights out of you. Between sobs, you manage to choke out a plea.
Desperate clawing at Floyd’s back, begging him with tears brimming in your eyes.
“Please let me go… Floyd.”
He hums to himself, before spinning you around, a torrent of bubbles surrounding your feeble form. Floyd’s claws press deeper, blood spilling out in clouds of crimson, trailing off in the water.
“What if I don’t want to, Shrimpy? You can’t do anything about it~”
He drawls, a certain childish quality in it. Mocking you, voice dripping with sadistic glee.
You don’t have a choice, either way.”
