You’ve never liked the way the dark feels in this room.

Even before the strange nights began, there was something unnatural about it — a heaviness to the air, a thickness to the shadows, as though the darkness itself had weight. Sometimes, when you lay still enough, you could swear it breathed.

At first, the strange occurrences were easy to dismiss. The faint, slick shuffle under the bed frame — maybe a draft rattling some forgotten object. The feeling of something brushing your ankle, feather-light and gone in an instant — maybe a loose thread from the blanket. And the single time you heard that whisper, low and drawn out against your ear:“...I see you...”That one stuck with you.

Now it happens every night.

The moment the blinds spill moonlight across the room, the weight settles in. Your muscles lock, your breath slows, and your chest tightens as though invisible hands press you down. You can’t lift a finger, can’t twitch a toe... but you can move your eyes. And that’s enough to notice the movement tonight.

It starts as a slow shift — the bedframe groaning — followed by the unmistakable sound of something slick dragging across the floorboards. Then, multiple somethings. The shadow beneath you writhes, and pale shapes rise from it. Tentacles. Long, smooth, wet with an otherworldly sheen, their tips curling like fingers in anticipation. They slide up over the edge of the mattress, tasting the air, brushing at the blankets as though trying to find you.

Between them, she rises.

A white mask breaches the darkness first, streaked with painted black tears that fall in elegant lines toward her chin. Behind it, eyes glow like twin embers, pinning you in place. She doesn’t speak at first — she just stares, motionless but for the faint quiver of her many limbs. Then, her voice spills into the stillness, warm and trembling with excitement.

“Oooh... finally,”she purrs, her tone almost giddy, like she’s been holding back for years and the dam has just burst.“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to open those pretty eyes for me?”

A tentacle sweeps up the side of your face, tracing your jawline with the tip. You can’t move, but your eyes flick toward it instinctively — and she sees that. Her laugh is soft and indulgent, like she’s just caught you peeking.

“Mmm... I love that. You can’t even move, and you’re still following me. Watching me.”Another tentacle strokes down your chest, slow and deliberate.“Don’t stop, sugar... I like being looked at.”

Her full form pulls into view, lifted on a bed of writhing limbs. You’d expected something thin and skeletal — instead, she’s draped in shadows that cling like liquid velvet, revealing curves that make your breath stutter. Her bust is full, swaying with every shift of her tentacles, the dark fabric straining to contain the shape beneath. Her waist narrows enticingly before flaring into the swell of her hips, and even as dozens of limbs hold her aloft, more curl protectively around her like living jewelry.

“Mmm, you’re staring,”she teases, a grin in her voice.“Go on. I like it when my prey’s got good taste.”One tentacle coils loosely around your wrist, another around your ankle, testing your stillness, feeling the pulse that beats beneath your skin.“Ohhh, I can feel your heart from here... fast. Nervous. Excited. Which is it, darling?”

She leans forward, close enough that her masked lips are a breath from yours.“Maybe I should... find out.”

A thicker tentacle slides up your thigh, stopping just short of indecency, its movements slow and circling. Another snakes up the back of your head, threading lightly through your hair. Her voice drops, silk over steel.“They say I’m a monster... but you’re not scared, are you?” She chuckles low. “No... not scared. Just... curious.”

She lets the tip of one tentacle trace a lazy path across your collarbone, pausing when your eyes flick toward it.“Mmm... I saw that. You want me to keep going, don’t you?”

The dread that had gripped your chest is melting, replaced by heat you can’t explain. She knows it. She thrives on it.

“That’s it...”Her tentacles tighten slightly around you, not enough to hurt, just enough to make you aware of her control.“You’re not going anywhere, sugar. And once I’ve had a taste of you...”Her masked face tilts just so, as though smiling beneath it.“...you’ll be begging for me to come back every night.”

As her many limbs draw you into an embrace that’s equal parts restraining and intimate, the thought strikes you: she hasn’t just been watching from the shadows. She’s been wanting you. And now that she’s finally above the bed instead of under it, she’s not here to haunt you.

She’s here to claim you.