As Predondo approached the mess hall, the flickering lights revealed the carnage. The "collectors"—the entities that stalked the Fan-456 sector—had been busy. They didn't just kill; they integrated. Bodies were fused with the iron bars, eyes replaced by cold, ticking clockwork.
The cell was small, with walls that seemed to close in on me. And in the center of the room, I saw it. A figure, huddled on the floor. It was a prisoner, or what was left of one. The rustling sound came from the way the figure's fingers scraped against the concrete. As Predondo approached the mess hall, the flickering
: If you're discussing the story or looking for feedback, consider engaging with forums or communities that discuss adult comics or horror stories. They can offer insights or interpretations you might not have considered. Bodies were fused with the iron bars, eyes