This is a work of fiction. Nothing is real, everything is permitted.
It was a bitterly cold December night in the Midwest. The kind of night where, when a cold gust blows, you breathe it in and it knocks all the wind out of you. A man was just getting home from a bar, fumbling with his keys, trying to get inside, out of the bitter chill of the nights air. As he found the right key and began inserting it into the lock, he heard a shuffling sound from behind his door. It was very distinct, as if someone had just quickly moved out of the way just in time. He paused with the key in the lock, trying to decide if he had actually heard it, or if he was just that drunk. After a brief moment's pause, he decided it was nothing to be concerned about, and turned the key and entered his home. Right away something seemed off. Not that it was a bad kind of off. It was actually pleasant. There was a very sweet scent permeating through the house. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on, but was very familiar to him. He, once again deciding it was nothing to be bothered about, went to the shower and let the hot water fall over him. He was on the verge of sleep, he could barely stand in the shower and the sweet scent he had smelled earlier was coming back. It almost had the scent of a perfume, but was completely beyond his grasp of understanding or remembering what it was, and where it was coming from. He was breathing it in deep, trying to place it with a memory, or person, but it just wasn't happening. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply once more, focusing on the scent, but as soon as he started exhaling, he felt a sudden and excruciating pain on the back of his head and fell, unconscious.
He awoke in a room where the walls and ceiling were light blue. The floor was a warm, and metallic. Maybe steel, maybe something else. He wasn't sure. He wasn't even sure how he made it home. The first thing to come to his senses was the smell. The same smell from his home. That he remembered. The room he was in had no visible doors, which was odd to him. He was still naked, but he wasn't cold at all. He was laying in the center of this strange room, and as he sat up, he was fairly surprised to find that he had no hangover, or any pain at all that usually came after a night of heavy drinking. He sat up and tried to recall anything that might help him remember why or how he got here, but the smell was overpowering now. It lulled him into a semi-blissful state. Almost a completely non-caring mood. He tried and tried to gather his thoughts, but just couldn't seem to focus. He got up and started pacing the room, with nothing but pleasant thoughts. He had almost forgotten that he wasn't at home, he couldn't get out of this room, and that didn't bother him in the least bit. For all he cared, he could spend forever here and be completely happy.
Just as he was trying to get his mind moving in the right direction again, he leaned against the wall and found that the blue coloring wasn't the wall, but an almost gel like material. Softer than gel, he noted as he pushed his finger into it and smiled at how soft and pliable it was. He was lost in a state of adoration for the substance covering the walls that he didn't notice right away that there was some movements going on from the other walls of the room. He turned around, catching movement out of the corner of his eye, and almost let out a yell of surprise. There were what appeared to be tentacles forming on all of the walls around the room. He started to get scared but then that sweet scent filled his nostrils and he started to not care again. He tried harder to focus his mind as the tentacles crept closer every second. They were within feet of him, and he was just standing there. He had to move. He had to do something. He made an attempt to move away from the closest one which was now just a foot from his right arm and as soon as he did, he knew his mistake. One tentacle grabbed his right arm with amazing speed, and more surprisingly, amazing strength. Soon after, his left arm was seized, along with both of his ankles. He tried to escape as hard as he could, but was held so firmly in place that he couldn't even move an inch. The tentacles grabbed him around the waist and other various places, and held him up in a sitting position. He began to panic now. The tentacles that were holding him in place were secreting a fluid that was very warm, and almost like lubrication. His whole body was soon covered in this fluid and more tentacles approached him from almost every direction.
