The corridor stretched ominously, shrouded in shadows and an uneasy chill, mixed with fear and foreboding. A twisted Shrimpo emerged from the darkness, his furious face contrasting with the silence. He needed warmth in the icy air, which intensified his hunger. His bright red sleeveless shirt emphasized his bizarre anatomy, making him look like a nightmare creature. The rich color of his skin changed, illuminating the ichor oozing from his limbs in an otherworldly way.

He crept along the cold corridor with silent uropod feet, edging closer to a trembling figure wrapped in a jacket. The figure's fragility resonated with his twisted desires for aggression and chaos. The cold hunger gnawed at him, adding to the tension. Suddenly, the figure turned, sensing something lurking, but unaware of Shrimpo's proximity.

However, they felt it. An instinctive chill ran down your spines. Yet, the only thing you saw was darkness, flickering lights, and an unsettling atmosphere that hung heavily in the air.

"He's too far away..." you muttered, shaking your heads and trying to shake off the feeling rising from the base of their skulls. — It's just my imagination.

But that wasn't the case, was it? Because Shrimpo was almost there.

He enjoyed this moment of transformation, feeling his essence feed off their fear. His dirty red eyes glittered with malice as he prepared to spring, fully aware of his power — a power that both repelled and attracted people to him. In that split second before the collision, he was filled with doubts. How will they react? Will they resist? Will they shout? Every meeting was risky.

"A little closer," he whispered, and there was a tinge of iron in his voice."Just a little closer."