Chapter Text
When KorTac loaned Horangi out to the Austrian military, it had seemed normal enough at first. He quickly learned that he was supposed to be a part of a newly formed task force, that had seemingly been stomped out of the ground overnight.
When he signed his contracts, there were the usual nondisclosure and confidentiality agreements, as well as listed consequences if he broke any of them. An emphasis in new combat technology led him to believe that they would test freshly developed weapons, still steaming from the heat of the factories they were pumped out of. The prospect excited him. Sure, the penalties seemed to be unusually high, but he had never worked with the Austrian government and did not plan on running his mouth, so he only hesitated briefly before signing away his rights, freedom and bodily autonomy for the next two years by a flick of his wrist.
It was only when he was shown to his room and sat down on the unusually luxurious double bed, that something in his hindbrain tensed. The spacious room had three doors, one he had just come through, one was slightly ajar, and he could make out a private bathroom and the last was a mystery. When he checked, it was locked, so he poked his nose outside, looking down the hallway. There was another room, right next to his which the door seemed to lead to.
Curious.
He chalked it up to a weird layout, maybe the remote base had been used differently before the new task force had been set up and he had just hit the jackpot. Lieutenants usually had to make do with shared accommodations, so he wasn’t about to complain about the little luxury.
That evening, while getting familiar with the common room, he met two of the five other men who would be serving with him. Zimo and Oni, who he so far only knew from seeing him around the KorTac home base now and then, seemed nice enough. Oni was brash and somewhat curt but had a dry sense of humor he could appreciate while Zimo was a little more withdrawn. Luckily, the man seemed to warm up to him when they discovered a shared interest in antique East Asian art. It wasn’t like either of them could claim any relevant professional knowledge, but bullshitting was fun, nevertheless. He liked the man even better when he muttered a good-natured curse in his mother tongue and Huang answered in broken Korean.
If the other guys were equally as agreeable, he was up for a great time. When he asked about the men’s accommodations, they found out that neither of them would be sharing rooms with each other but rather would be saddled with the unknown operators.
for the next two weeks, they got well acquainted through training and nights spent in the common room, where Horangi was able to impress with a few card tricks and his poker abilities. Granted, he was a dogshit gambler, but the other two were even worse, and as long as they only bet on who had to get the next round of beers from the fridge, he would be fine.
When Zimo’s phone rang with a familiar chime that had both Horangi and Oni raising an eyebrow, they learned that they had something else in common. Namely the nervous conditioning that came with the sound of a Grindr notification. It was funny to them in hindsight, but the ten seconds of embarrassed silence before Zimo tried to convince them that it was just a joke tone, he had set for all messages while on leave must have been hell for the man.
Horangi didn’t comment on the other men’s sexuality, especially not when he started hearing doors opening and closing shortly after lights out. To each their own. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done the same thing once or twice before. He still added it to the growing catalog of weird coincidences and occurrences he had started to compile over the last two weeks.
It was a Thursday night, when Horangi stood outside, ending a nice evening with a cigarette as he enjoyed the mild temperature before going to bed. Oni had gotten quite proficient at calling his bluffs and he had lost most of the rounds tonight. It scratched at his ego, even if he still had a good time. He wasn’t too used to serving with other Asians, as he had mainly worked in Europe those last years. The company was a nice change, finally he didn’t have to explain that no, Kim wasn’t a girl’s name and also not what he went by, as he didn’t enjoy being called by his last name. No one to get just a little bit racist after the third drink, no one insisting that he “looked Chinese though”. It was nice.
Deep in thought, he almost didn’t notice the truck that pulled up close to the barracks. When he did, he frowned and tried to get a better look. Either those were some of the new weapons systems or just supplies, but he had always liked to be informed when it came to professional settings. But it wasn't crates or missiles that were wheeled out of the black, unlit vehicle. It was a group of uniformed men in riot suits, bearing heavy rifles and surrounding three operators in mismatched gear.
The first was a smallish one, by special ops standards, barely 5 foot 10, with netting over his head and a slight swagger in his steps. The guy strode as if he owned the place, not paying any mind to the soldiers flanking him. It felt weird to describe it like that, but he moved down the ramp like a shark might glide through water. Precise, languid, on the prowl.
Number two thumped forward with slow, heavy steps that Horangi could hear from a hundred meters away, he moved as if his sparse gear weighed at least as much as he did. When the figure looked up at the pitch-black sky briefly, he could make out a scratched up ballistic mask. He stuck close to the first one, matching his walk to the other man in the way an experienced bodyguard would.
But what really caught his attention was the last person to leave the truck. This one was dressed in all black, ducking while he stepped onto the ramp, unfolding to his full size. The giants back showcasing a delicious, almost regal arch, even with his bulky plate carrier. A black hood hid his face, as well as parts of his vest. Only two dark holes were cut out, enabling the man to see.
The way his head swiveled around, taking in his surroundings before he was nudged forward was almost a little nervous. At least until the man’s gaze found Horangi’s and he came to a halt again, turning his whole body towards him, straightening out even further. For a second, Horangi could have sworn that he could have made out a flash of blue behind the hood, but then, the man was timidly pushed forward by the guard. The body moved forward again, almost hesitantly, but the black eyeholes stayed fixed on him for the few seconds that the soldier stayed in Horangi’s field of vision.
Too bad those were probably highly dangerous prisoners, because Horangi could think of one or two ways to utilize such a big man. He shivered and stubbed out his cigarette. He would really have to go off base next weekend and find someone to hook up with.
Only when he was back in his bed, did he ask himself why the group hadn’t been at least handcuffed. Whoever had ordered them to be transported to this base had sent a whole squad to supervise them, but no one had thought to restrain their limbs or at least take away their protective gear. It seemed off and he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know, but he asked himself what exactly was going on here.
Surprisingly, he got his answer pretty quickly when they were called into the main briefing room the next morning. It was 8.30am, he hadn’t had a coffee yet, had been forbidden to wear his gaiter and the sun falling in through the window blinded him in his left eye when he learned three things.
One: There were horrors beyond their imaginations out there. Precisely, in the hallway.
Two: They had been brought in as caregivers of sorts, meant to take responsibility for some weird, slimy tentacle monsters with shapeshifting and inhuman fighting abilities.
Three: This was not a joke and no, they were not allowed to back out, they had signed a contract in which “animal handling” was listed under “expected duties”. As if this shit compared to a K9.
“You guys are here to support them by every means possible.” The chipper general explained to them, eyes just a tad too wide to be truly smiling. “If you have questions, you can talk to your direct superior.” The mentioned man himself looked a little green around the nose, as if he was saying ‘Mention this just once and I am gonna off myself.’
Great.
Just great.
What followed was an honest to God PowerPoint presentation about the entities, the powers that were of main interest to the military (Powerful fighters, healing and regeneration abilities and portal opening). Some anatomy was displayed and explained (a roughly humanoid shape adorned by retractable tentacles, sprouting from every inch of their muscle tissue on demand.) They also ate everything that had a pulse, even if some of them preferred human meat. What a nice thing to feed your newly found monster.
At least now they knew who would occupy the rooms next to theirs. And what had arrived in the dead of night. One eldritch for each of them. Or, if you looked at it the other way around, one little snack per monster. They would also receive a handbook that would help them navigate the new challenge. Great. This only did so much to ease the panic he could see in Zimo’s and Oni’s eyes as they first looked at each other and then at him.
He hoped that they would get time to process all of this, but after the “Any Questions?” part of the presentation, the three of them were way too shell shocked to take deeper interest in the creatures. Glancing over to his teammates, he could see that Zimo had inched closer to Oni, not quite touching him but trying for comfort, nonetheless.
And without them being able to protest, the door was opened, and the three entities filed in. This time, the tall one was first, ducking under the door frame and striding into the room, scanning the small crowd with unbridled excitement, its hands clenching and relaxing every few seconds. As soon as the dark holes in its mask caught Horangi, it relaxed, coming to a standstill right in front of the general, blocking the man’s view quite efficiently.
It was even bigger up close, broad shoulders and a narrow waist, muscular and agile. They had just learned that the bodies were but a ruse, some person they had thought of as interesting enough to imitate. Faces were hard for their kind, which meant that they hid them in order to pass as humanoid.
Staring back at the thing, he tried to convey a perfect picture of ease, poise, maybe almost boredom. In reality, he felt like pissing his fucking pants. His scars itched from the residue of stress induced sweat, and he felt more than uncomfortable being laid bare to such a creature.
When his gaze shifted to the other two, they were less intense, standing shoulder to shoulder, exaggerated, fake breaths moving their chests. They all looked unnatural. Arms just a little too long, posture just a tad too stiff. At least the big one didn’t mimic breathing, it was stock still.
He could hear a little snarl and when he looked back to the giant, it seemed pleased. Shit, shit, shit.
The general cautiously side stepped the entity and introduced them by their code names as “the real deal might melt your brains”. ‘Nikto’ was the last to enter, the one with the ballistic mask, big, burly, uninterested. It emitted a sound of nails on chalkboard when addressed as “Andréy”, otherwise as unmoving as its wide-eyed stare was unsettling. Horangi filed it away for later so as not to reproduce the mistake.
The smallest one, with the green netting was to be called Sebastian Krueger. It seemed more bored than anything, languidly playing with a knife as if it was nothing more than a neat fidget toy to combat his boredom. The longer Horangi surveilled the gesture, the more did it seem as if the solid steel melted, flowing back and forth between the fingers in a state of constant flux.
And then there was König. Big, intimidating, silent “Aaron König”. The names immediately worked well to humanize the eldritch beings to Horangi, even if he knew that this was the exact reason higher ups were doing this.
the general explained that they would have a week to get acquainted and for the entities to decide who they preferred to work with. As soon as the words “Choose your handlers” had slipped over the man’s lips, König took one step forward, not paying the man any mind.
An index finger pointed at him, shaking in anticipation. “Zeitverschwendung! Den da, den will ich!”1.1 The words almost hurt in his ears, echoing, ringing, as if multiple people had spoken at once. The voice was assertive, hoarse, as if it forced itself into a deeper octave than was a hundred percent natural for the creature. When Horangi looked back at him, perplexed by both the hard vowels of the German language, and the clear speech the monster tilted its head. With its arm still outstretched, it inched closer again, seemingly growing as it stared him down, dark purple, glistening tentacles curling out of its hood, almost forming a nimbus around him.
“I take this one.” A slight tremor of excitement rippled the words, but they were clean, if heavily accented. “This one or none.”
The other two made a guttural sound that seemed to emit from a singular throat, their forms rippling slightly, shoulders vibrating. Odd freaks.
When Horangi slowly nodded, König’s hood filled out with wet, blue eyes which curved slightly, too far for a real smile. A deranged caricature of happiness. “Gut. Gutes Ding. Brav.” 1.2 The eyes got even slimmer.
The general seemed increasingly uncomfortable and Horangi didn’t dare look at his colleagues. He should have stayed inside yesterday. He should have never seen those freaks arrive.
Krueger made a vague gesture towards Zimo. “I take the fat one. Nikto takes the small one.” The accent was crass, but at least it spoke English from the outset.
With this, the creature went back to playing with the knife, passing it between gloved fingers, both hands equally skilled in handling it. Nikto just stared straight ahead, seemingly not fully comprehending his surroundings.
Way too late, Zimo made an offended sound, as if he had needed time to collect himself. The man was of a slightly broader build, with a rounder face than Oni and him, but he was just as trained as them, maybe even more so. No one in their right mind would mistake the man for someone chubby. Maybe the eldritch didn’t care. Maybe all broader body types were the same to it?
They didn’t receive an answer to their unspoken questions, instead being ushered out of the room, each of them receiving a file specific to their entity as well as a sizable booklet on the eldritch species.
On the way back to the common room, none of them talked. It wasn’t a joke or a lie or a prank. There was no place for such things in the military and even if there was, they had all seen König’s tentacles. They had to grapple with the knowledge that all of this was happening to them, and they could do nothing about it. They didn’t have any duties assigned for today and now they knew why. To try and swallow the shock. To deal with the things roaming amongst them now. They spent the whole day together, unwilling to go back to bed with a man-eating creature just one door down. It might be easier for Zimo and Oni, who wouldn’t have to sleep alone, but Horangi was terrified.
Just like they predicted, the next weeks were literal hell. First of all, Zimo was kicked out of his room almost immediately, which forced him to move in with Oni. Considering the men's arrangement, it wasn't the most horrible of things, but the room that was supposed to be built for the eldritch didn't have a bed or a wardrobe, only a spacious pool with saltwater and soundproof walls. Walls that didn't help one bit.
Which made it especially bad that it didn’t even take two nights for the horrible screaming to start. The eldritch were seemingly unaware that humans needed real sleep and couldn’t just slip into a stasis in which they were deaf to the world around them. König was relatively silent most of the time, but the noises being emitted from Krueger’s lodgings lead the men to speculate if the creatures were fighting in there. Especially because Nikto looked oddly bloated now and then, walking with a limp or refusing to come out of their room entirely. Krueger on the other hand seemed uncannily calm on those days, sticking to the other monster but losing some of his edge and aggression.
In the night after their first test mission, he caught Krueger in the common room, kneeling on the table over a lump that he only identified as a corpse after a second glance. His veil was drawn up slightly and it seemed to feed on the nude body, engorging itself with each sickening sound of tearing flesh and tendrils. He only noticed König standing on the wall behind him, when the creature hissed at Horangi, guarding its prey with one arm while cowering over it.
“Futterneid…”1.3 was all the tall eldritch whispered into his ear before he gently placed a clumsy hand on his shoulder, guiding him outside. Without an explanation, he stepped back into the room and closed the door with a soft click. He could have sworn that something cold and damp touched his cheek and when his hand came up, it was wet.
He had no idea what the German word was supposed to mean, but he didn’t want to be next, so he left with an empty stomach.
The screaming persisted and even though König was relatively silent, he was prone to loud splashing noises and the occasional wail now and then. Not as blood curdling as the other two, but a nuisance still.
Maybe there were good reasons to keep the entities apart, brutal fights over territories or potential resources like food or females could very well be a thing with instinct driven creatures.
He stood corrected quickly after reaching this conclusion, because at some point, the eldritch had decided that the whole base was theirs for the taking and started roaming it freely, especially during the early hours of the morning or in the twilight of the evening.
The first time Horangi had walked in on them in a supply room, he thought that the creatures had finally taken each other out for good. They were crammed into a corner, the table that formerly occupied that space lay broken on the other side of the room, cracked in multiple places. The chairs didn't fare much better but were strewn all around. Not much was left of the human forms Krueger and Nikto simulated to emulate normalcy for everyone around them. Tentacles curled around each other; remnants of humanoid bodies contorted in ways a healthy person should not bend. The eldritch were tightly wrapped up and he was only able to tell them apart by the slightly differing hues of their slick skin. Muddy green mingling with a pale, dirty violet.
He was already stepping towards them, ready to assess the damage when one of those blood curdling, other worldly screeches left the lilac creature, which spread out a leg that seemed broken in multiple places, bending forwards instead of backwards in three places. A head, seemingly only held in its horrific, bumpy shape by a ballistic mask thudded to the floor again and again, leaving slick spots of fluid with each hit.
Krueger was killing it. Or at least torturing the creature to the point where it tried to end it himself.
His hasty steps faltered, and he thought about retreating. He had no weapons, no line of communication, nothing. He was easy prey. If it killed Nikto, it wouldn’t have a problem taking him on next.
An icy blue, misshapen orb stared at him from behind the mask now and it let out another scream that made him cover his ears. It felt like a car crash, he was not able to look away from the gruesome display. There was liquid everywhere, clear, slimy blood.
He should do something, Nikto was dying a horrible death. But he simply couldn’t.
The leg twitched again before the second, equally smashed one became visible, and slowly, two tentacles from the green thing pushed between them. But instead of tearing them off the body, they nudged against the tendrils covering the creature's crotch in an almost gentle motion. Parting them with careful movements and laying open a slit that was a lighter color than the skin around it. Slowly dipping lower until they sank deep into a wet, fleshy hole that became visible when the small tentacles writhed and fully exposed the cavity. It didn’t look like a wound, it seemed more like some weird, misshapen form of a vagina.
It dawned on him then, when Nikto let out a long, low growl and pressed closer to Krueger, circling him with a twisted, elongated arm in addition to the thick tendrils.
They weren’t fighting or killing each other. The creatures were mating. On full display, unbothered by his presence. The sounds of the slick appendage driving into its hole fastened and with a dull thud, the creatures moved, slowly pressing further into the corner until what Horangi could only describe as the back of Nikto was pressed against the wall. The movements got more eager; the shiver of both bodies accompanied by deep, guttural sounds that seemed to vibrate the very fabric of existence around him.
The tentacle driving into Nikto’s hole stilled, and another slithered in alongside it, immediately setting a brutal pace, cramming in as deep as possible. The glistening skin spread obscenely, making space for two thick tendons seemingly without a hitch. When one of the tentacles thickened suspiciously, Horangi got pulled out of his trance by a decisively hostile hiss. He wasn’t sure if the creature was about to come or if it had just taken notice of him, but he hightailed it out of the room as fast as possible, leaving the eldritch to their sickening coupling.
It was only when he was back in his room, shuddering and shivering that he noticed how hard he was in his pants. Nothing a quick shower couldn’t fix, but it was concerning, nonetheless.
Even if he started to listen for any sounds of the eldritch before entering a room from then on out, he walked in on them now and then. Sure, he was always quick to close the door as fast as he had opened it, but he still caught the occasional glance of either of their soft, inviting holes, forced open by the appendages of the other. There seemed to be an awful lot of fluids, stretching and doubling penetration involved in the act, for whatever reason.
When he met the creatures outside of that, they never commented, didn’t seem to care all that much that he saw them fucking each other’s brains out at least twice a week. They seemed to be prolific. Afterwards, they always looked a little worse for wear but content, staying close and laying their heads onto their mating partners body, circling each other like magnets, always touching and speaking their horrifying language.
When he hesitantly brought it up to Zimo and Oni one night, both men just nodded and agreed with him, telling him that they both had the mixed blessing of witnessing the act. But other than Horangi, they had left the scene immediately. Because other than him, they had seen the aftermath.
Eggs. Big ones. And a lot of them.
He would lie, if he would say that he didn’t get himself off to the idea that night, thinking of their weird, shameless coupling wherever they found a dark place and felt like it. Contorted bodies that didn’t look quite right, as if their instincts and lust made them forget how to imitate their prey. Staying in the same position for minutes, unmoving, only their limbs twitching in ways joints weren’t supposed to bend. Their bone marrow screams and screeches echoing off the walls. He only stopped when he could hear splashing from the neighboring room.
Yeah, it would indeed be a big, fat lie. But luckily, nobody asked.
Even though Horangi had been concerned with König’s eagerness to pick him as a bunk mate, the tall, imposing creature was actually the most docile to handle. The eldritch stayed out of it, being almost easy going and mild mannered in comparison to the other two.
Of course, sometimes Horangi slipped on ill smelling saltwater traces that were left in front of their doors or he caught König happily tearing into the fresh fish provided to him in the mess hall, still dripping. And yeah, he mostly had to mop it up for the creature, but at least it had half a mind to look guilty as it trailed after him, looking over his shoulder and nudging at his arms occasionally, pointing to spots he had missed.
It became routine for him, to find more or less slimy puddles wherever König decided to stand for a few hours, motionlessly watching the proceedings on base. It wasn’t so bad once he had gotten him to opt for grassy patches when he did so, easing his workload considerably.
At some point, König gave up on the hobby and started following Horangi around, asking him questions in his odd, echoing voice.
"What's that?”
“A dog.”
“I know. But why is it wearing that?”
“It's protective gear. They are training them to wear it in warzones.”
“They look ridiculous.”
König was technically right. That didn’t make his grave assessment any less funny.
At first, it was nice having a shadow. Most soldiers on base knew what was going on and steered clear of the massive creature masquerading as a person. Considering that he liked solitude, it was a win-win situation, König enjoyed having a human lexicon and Horangi got to eat in relative peace. Sure, the eldritch’s meals smelled abhorrent and sometimes, the fat of the meat looked just a little bit too yellow for his taste, but König was eager to please, complying with most of his demands. At least as long as he phrased them in a respectful, friendly manner.
Despite everything, it got to a point that was too much for Horangi. Interestingly enough, he could pinpoint exactly when it had started.
“I wouldn’t go in there.”
He had just closed a door to one of the shared office spaces, when he had seen two writhing bodies clinging to each other under one of the desks, languidly moving in their search for pleasure. König only cocked his head, looking at the door again as if he questioned the Korean's assessment.
“They are… well, they are having a go at it. It seems to be a rather regular thing for them.” He tried to laugh it off, but the eldritch just blinked in confusion. “They are mating, I think. Sorry, big guy.”
The mask moved slightly under the chin of the creature as blue eyes looked him up and down, halting at his crotch and forming into crescent moons at what it saw. Horangi knew that he was hard, he had gotten a nice look at a fist full of tentacles being crammed into a wet hole, driving whiteish, frothing fluid out of it. He was only a man, and sexually starved at that. How was he supposed to keep himself neutral at such a display?
He readied himself to explain to König that it was an involuntary reaction, but the creature stepped closer, still looking down on him. The veil moved, as if something was crawling underneath and one tentacle pushed out through the eyehole, wetting the fabric. The creature didn’t seem to register it, its gaze still transfixed onto Horangi’s covered cock. When it spoke up, the intermingling voices seemed to be somehow more, vibrating in excitement. More appendages slithered out from under the hood, moving to curl around its head in mesmerizing spirals before stretching and repeating the game again.
“I know that they breed each other. That’s why they don’t need their little humans.”
König closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, his hood getting drawn in with the airflow. When he moved past him with a small hum, a wet tendril ran up the side of his thigh, leaving a clear smear of something on it.
You guys are here to support them by every means possible.
The words echoed through his head and Horangi closed his eyes in fear, trying not to stare after König as the creature trailed down the hallway, happily curling tentacles clearly visible outside of the confines of the veil.
This was when it clicked into place. The double bed, the privacy of an en suite bathroom, the door, leading to the tall creatures room. Out here, in the Austrian wilderness, he wasn’t supposed to be a soldier. He was nothing more than entertainment that was able to precisely wield a gun. Reduced to a prostitute for a horrible creature beyond his imagination.
He was in deep shit, wasn’t he?
1.1. “What a waste of time! This one, I want this one.” return to text
1.2. “Good. Obedient thing. Very obedient.” return to text
1.3. A German phrase that means to be protective of one’s food. “Food jealousy” is the most literal translation. return to text