Prison Remake -v1.0- -eroism- — Insect

Kaelen looked up. A face leaned down from the amber gloom. It was beautiful in the way a polished skull is beautiful. Features of a woman, but the eyes were compound, fracturing his reflection into a thousand tiny, screaming Kaelens. Her hair was not hair, but filament-thin antennae. She wore a gown of woven chitin that clicked softly as she descended, her movements a series of precise, predatory angles.

He was in a cube. Ten meters each side. The walls weren't metal or stone, but a translucent, amber-hued resin. Embedded within them, frozen in eternal rigor, were insects. Not ordinary ones. These were specimens with too many joints, eyes like cut gems, wings that seemed to fold through dimensions. A praying mantis the size of his forearm, its scythes locked in a perpetual strike. A wasp with an ovipositor like a jeweled stinger, poised inches from a paralyzed, humanoid larva. Insect Prison Remake -v1.0- -Eroism-

Suddenly, he could feel every insect embedded in the walls. Their final, frozen agonies. The mantis’s hunger. The wasp’s sterile, mechanical lust for implantation. And beneath it, a new sensation—a phantom touch. Not Sess’s hand, but the idea of touch. A caress that hadn’t happened yet, echoing backward through time. His skin remembered pleasures he’d never known, and his nerves anticipated pains that would never come. Kaelen looked up

Sess watched, her compound eyes recording every micro-spasm. “Good,” she whispered. “The first emotion to cultivate is longing . We’ll starve you of it for a week, then inject you again. You’ll crave the needle. You’ll beg for the resin. And then, we’ll introduce you to the breeding chambers.” Features of a woman, but the eyes were

He gasped. His body arched. It was agony. It was ecstasy. It was the pressure of a kiss that exists only in the moment before lips meet.