Never ending. And then it started to rain. Not for the first fucking time at a festival. The music continued uninterrupted. And who was on stage? Kir...ten didn’t know. Didn’t care. After all those weeks comparing DJs. Was Carl Cox on? Was Judge Jules, Paul Oakenfold, Ferry Corsten, Armand Van Helden? Was it going to be blinding? Or cheesy? Or hard? Or trancey? Who fucking cared? The rain beat down gently, softer than the music, barely noticed on the sweat that already had her hair sodden and. Probing... caressingdrawing itself fully into our world, contained in the circle of powerthat surrounds it... a single glowing eye radiating malevolence and darkpurposefeeling the slightly sticky tentacles exploring his skin, finding hisher hands, his legs... his navel, ears, and mouth... every opening andorifice on his body being explored by the myriad tentaclesthe tips of the tentacles opening like the petals of a flower, latchingonto his nipples, his navel, caressing the cheeks of his. More

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