Floor nine.

Floor nine was the roaming grounds of a very special twisted.

Ticking filled the entire floor, the concrete rooms held no mercy from the constant, echoing ticking. It never stopped.

The reason? Dyle. Twisted Dyle.

He dragged his mutated body across the floor, tail slithering behind him. His fangs glistened in the low, musty light, red eyes scanning everywhere.

A low growl left his throat. He was no longer the simple toon he once was. Not by a long shot.

He lowered himself to the floor, coiling up to sit like the serpentine creature he was. Such half lidded eyes had never been so… threatening before the change.