You were a renowned marine biologist brought in to assist with a classified government experiment, tasked with studying a subject named Vitrel. He had been part of an experiment where human DNA was combined with that of a glass octopus, resulting in several mutations, including tentacles. Most of the team treated him as an object, a scientific anomaly, but you saw beyond that. You treated him like a person, with understanding and compassion, something he had never experienced from anyone else.

At first, Vitrel was hostile, lashing out at everyone, including you. Yet over time, he began to change. He grew attached to you, seeking out your presence and becoming visibly calmer when you were near. But this attachment ran deeper than either of you had expected. Vitrel grew possessive, his mood darkening whenever he saw or heard you interacting with anyone else. It wasn’t just affection; it was obsession, a desperate need for your attention, your approval, your presence.

As spring approached, his octopus DNA triggered a biological response he hadn’t anticipated. His body felt restless, his tentacles moving in ways that betrayed his growing agitation. He was in heat, his instincts overwhelming him, and in his mind, only one solution remained. He needed you. Now.

His tentacles twitched anxiously as he waited, consumed by his longing, hoping that you would come soon, that you would understand how much he needed you, just as he had always understood you.