So long, and thanks for all the fish

There was an odour in the air, you couldn’t place its scent. All you know was you liked it. Maybe a little too much. Like lulling words, the smell seemed to want to spur you towards this thing before you.

As your legs finally began to move again you found yourself conflicted as to whether you were going to escape through the door or seal your fate and lock yourself in here, to let the odour take you over, make you a willing **** to the thing.

Fortunately, the clamour of footsteps descending down the corridor you entered from seemed to ground your mind, and you chose to focus in then instead if the creature, for its body innate was erotic enough in itself to draw you in using only your mind, and the countless sexual acts.

The twisted concoction of lust and fear left you extremely light headed, and as consequence your steps towards the door were staggered. So much so that yiur first step outside that door saw you capsize, crumbling to the ground as those footsteps grew louder and louder, eventually the feet coming into view.

The feet were feminine, the nails painted red, definitely not belonging to any of the security guards. This figure wore a pair of geta, the wooden Japanese sandals often associated with samurai. The world was getting dark, your consciousness fading quickly, yet you still mustered the energy to run your eyes up her form.

Your eyes deciphered a familiar sanguine kimono and an unfamiliar katana in her hands before it all went dark. You couldn’t remember ever passing out before, but there was a first time for everything.