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No. 876
Speculation, mostly.

===
Let me preface this by saying that the previous BLU Medic was a sick, sick man. He was a Josef Mengele of sorts, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise; he was out for blood and maybe some sick gratification, and he’d stop at nothing to get it.

Though I consider myself observant and capable, I only noticed his perversions after the scout disappeared. Our demoman informed me he saw the poor boy running out of the lab with needles stuck into his corneas, but I chalked it up to all the drinking he did and thought nothing of it. Perhaps the boy was moved to a different base. It happened often enough.

But the next day, Demoman was gone as well.

Our Sniper was found dead in his nest a week later, his right hand missing. The stump was covered in bandaging, a chilling sign that someone had either tried to save him or had inflicted this themselves.

At that point, I think we all knew who was behind these things, but as the days went by we were all too scared to say anything about it. (Including myself, ashamed as I am.) If it really were the medic, he would most likely kill us where we stood. There’s really no confronting these sorts of things.

So instead of doing anything we waited. We waited for our turns in the infirmary, for our turns to be mutilated, for our turns to die. And I watched, most dreadfully, as the remaining members of my team were called behind those sterile white doors, knowing they wouldn’t ever make it out.

Medic never sent their death notices to the corporation; we never got replacements for the men we lost. This was his plan all along, I figured, since having just two scared men left in your midst was easier to handle than a group of new men.

And Engineer and I were just that, two scared men saved for last by some divine order from God. Engineer, the brave man he was, told me to cloak myself and get the hell out of there. He told me he fixed my cloaking device up a little so it would run for longer; I’d have plenty of time to escape.

But, no, it was a rare moment where I did something nice for another person. I let /him/ take it, I insisted, I pleaded with him to just go and save himself. Tell the nearest town, your mother, the RED team, /anyone/! Just do it before new men arrived.

He thanked me and said he would leave that night, once the medic was asleep. At that moment, I was called over the intercom. The voice of our medic echoed throughout the base, authoritative and cold.

“Spy.”

I said goodbye to the Engineer, perhaps my only friend, and went to accept my fate.

But the medic did not kill me. He sat me on the table and looked me over, prodding my calves and thighs and feet, wondering how I was able to walk around on such scrawny things.

“I do not appreciate that, docteur,” I told him. He shrugged at me, rubbing his chin pensively. All I could do was sit there, scared and cold.

“Let me help you,” he said, softly, and for a moment I almost believed the gentle tone he was using. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me closer to him, anesthetizing me. My vision blurred, and the last thing I saw was his grinning face, disgusting and warped.

Of course, it was foolish to believe he’d apply the proper amount of anesthesia. I awoke (half-awoke, more accurately), while he had me strapped to an examination table, my shirt unbuttoned, my pants gone, my legs gone…

My legs. Mon dieu, my legs. I saw my innards strewn out below me on the table, and further below that something slimier and longer; some of my entrails were in the thing, and as I started to believe I was dreaming the medic came back. I asked him how I was even alive, but was unable to form coherent words.

“Oh,” he said, though I’m not sure he was really speaking at all. “You’re awake? I must not have given you enough to keep you down.”

He began to thread a needle, a long and terrible thing. I started to sweat, I think, and murmur a few unintelligible curses at him. He just laughed and brought the slimy thing towards what was left of my lower body, sewing me up like some sort of doll. The needle pressed into my skin, in and out as he wove the piece of flesh onto me, putting my insides in the right order as he went, humming to himself. I could feel it, but at the same time I couldn’t feel anything at all. I was floating for a while, drifting in the ocean, and the next minute I was burning up, the room swirling around me and moving in ways not possible.

And then, as he turned me over to sew the rest of me up, I passed out.

I don’t know how long it was before I woke up, but by the time I did everyone was gone. The base was quiet.

I tried to get up, but found my legs painfully useless. Sitting up fully to see what the problem was, I saw something worse than I expected.

I had tentacles. My lower body had been replaced with a writing mass of tentacles, and to my surprise I could actually control them. There was a jagged line where he had sewn me up, which went higher and lower on my body intermittently; he hadn’t done a very good job. I reached out to touch the new part of myself, and reeled back in horror when I found out it was indeed slimy.

I leaned over the side of the table and retched.

After that, it was a long journey through the base, as I had to drag myself using only my arms; I had no idea how to control the tentacles or if they even could be controlled more precisely.

“At least no one can see me like this,” I thought ruefully, the trail of muck behind me drying quickly in the sun. When I got to the sewer area I plunged myself in, my tentacles so much easier to maneuver than before. I clung to the wooden beams beneath the bridge, however, frightened that perhaps something may go wrong. I didn’t expect myself to make it until the next morning.

I did, however, awoken to the sound of helicopters and shouting. I heard my engineer’s voice distinctly.

“There! His office is over yonder!”

I wanted to scream, to cry out that I was glad he was okay and even gladder that he had brought reinforcements, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I didn’t want him to see me like this. I didn’t want him to see me at all.

Soon enough I heard them dragging the medic out of the same room I was created in, where he had undoubtedly returned after examining the base while he assumed I was still passed out. He was kicking and screaming, saying he was responsible for nothing, he was innocent, and he was a /medic/, for god’s sake, not a monster-

And I laughed, silently, half-crazy and hungrier than you could imagine, my new appendages swishing around in the water lazily; I didn’t look at them often, for fear I’d retch again.

They took the medic away in one of the helicopters. The engineer and a couple other men stayed, and they asked him if he’d like to return to this base with the new recruits that were coming in soon. I begged for him to say yes.

“Nah,” he told them. “I can’t stand to be here much longer, fellas. A lot of fine men died here and I just can’t live with it.”

And so soon after he left, as well, and again it was silent and I was alone.

Of course, that was a long time ago, when I was silly and weak. The new team has been here for a while now, and I am not quite sure they know about me yet. I’ve been alive much longer than I could have imagined, and I feel just fine; swimming is a blast down here, really, and the occasional passerby from the other team makes a delicious snack.

Each time I hear a medic, however, I cringe. I clench my teeth and feel sick to my stomach, sick at what he had turned me into and sick at what I have become.

Those are the days I wish he had just killed me.
Marked for deletion (old)
>> No. 878
Pretty well-written and entertaining. An interesting twist on the Tentaspy, and I always love MadScientist! Medic! Please... proceed... =D
>> No. 881
The comparison to, and, may I assume, the inspiration from, Josef Mengele is perfect. Just that name alone brings up imagery that sets the feel for the story. Using an experiment that Mengele actually is known to have performed is a nice touch as well. Great work, I like this quite a bit.
>> No. 882
Baawwww, poor Tentaspy. Very nicely written, I hope there's more.
>> No. 890
Seriously, /please/ let there be more. This is awesome.
>> No. 898
I... I really don't know what to say... please continue
>> No. 899
More please!
>> No. 903
Oh me oh my, do more of this! Perhaps write a bit about one time where he got a hold of one of his 'snacks' and how he felt about being reduced to eating another human (if you would call him human.)
>> No. 904
D'aw. Poor Spy.
>> No. 944
8
Seconded.
>> No. 945
>>8

THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS

PLEASE <3
>> No. 1036
I had hoped that someone would find me down here. In the beginning, of course. Whenever I heard the pattering of feet across the bridge or the faint splashing of discarded ammo landing in the water, I hoped that someone wouldn’t be far behind. It didn’t matter if they fell, were pushed, or jumped in themselves, really – I just wanted a companion.

But when I found most of them dead and mutilated, I didn’t expect much conversation. A dead man isn’t much good to anyone, as you may know. I certainly couldn’t have their bodies stinking up my lovely sewer home.

So I disposed of some of them and gave the rest back to the RED and BLU factions I once was a part of. (My, the BLU Spy was so surprised when he found the RED Sniper’s corpse at the entrance to their base!)

I never once considered eating those disgusting things. During my normal life I wouldn’t have thought about putting a piece of rotted meat into my mouth, and during this life I would never settle for less than a fresh meal. And yes, no matter how much it disgusted me, there was no other option than to become accustomed to the taste of human meat.

It tastes different than other types of meat, though in what way I can’t quite describe. It has, how you say, more personality.

My first victim seemed to be a cruel joke: he was a RED Engineer that looked not unlike the one I had become so fond of during my human days. He had fallen into the sewers after becoming injured. He was still alive but thrashed about in the water so horribly, and it was only later that I realized his leg was broken. I took him to the small alcove below the base and let him rest there after he had passed out.

And, shameful as it may be, I waited for him to wake up. There was a part of me that believed perhaps my Engineer had come back for me.

He did awaken, just as I had laid myself down beside him and begun to caress his cheek. Put simply, he was not too pleased. Immediately, he backed himself into a wall and screamed at me to get away, to please stop, to fuck off and die. His leg flung itself around horribly as he moved. But as he was speaking to me – at me, really – he didn’t seem to care.

And oh, I can still remember his words and how much they stung.

“All I want is to talk to you,” I said, my tentacles holding his arms against the wall. I was close to him now, close enough so that I could feel his breath on my cheek. It was nice to get so close to another human being, no matter how scared they were.

“Ya freak,” he said. His voice was low and full of malice, something I recognize quite easily now. At the time, however, I mistook it for something else. Pity, maybe?

“Please do not call me such things,” I asked. I believe I was beginning to cry then. Thin tears were making their way down my face and getting caught in my mask. He saw this, no doubt. He saw this and opened his mouth to speak again.

I kissed him. He reminded me so much of what I had lost and how much I wanted to get back to the surface. Being down in the sewers was miserable then, more miserable than it is now. I felt like a child on their first day away from home.

He struggled, of course, biting at my tongue furiously as I tried my best to charm him. My tentacles roved all over his body for a while, until I realized he wasn’t accepting my advances.

I kissed him harder and more forcefully until his lower lip was in my mouth completely.

That is to say, I was eating it.

Oh, the sounds he made when he realized!

But I kept going, suddenly very hungry. Soon his upper lip was gone, and the skin of his cheeks. It was a bit annoying, really, the way he yelled and gurgled at me in horror.

Serves him right, honestly, for being so terrible to me.

I snapped his neck once I was finished, and I let him lay there in a sad, disgusting pile while I came to terms with what I had done. I wretched into the water beside me and thought little of it after that. That night I slept with the corpse there, plagued by nightmares and a very upset stomach.

Of course, that was a long time ago. I’m not shy about that sort of thing anymore.

The BLU team’s stupid Scout often dangles his legs over the edge of the water as he sits there and reads his juvenile comics. One day I won’t hesitate to pull him right in and teach him a good lesson about open waters.
>> No. 1037
>>13

YESSSSS
>> No. 1038
>>13

The BLU team’s stupid Scout often dangles his legs over the edge of the water as he sits there and reads his juvenile comics. One day I won’t hesitate to pull him right in and teach him a good lesson about open waters.
ohgod do it do it
>> No. 1039
>>15

Didn't Tenny do something similar to that in one of her stories for a kink meme though? NOT TELLING YOU TO NOT DO IT, OH GOD PLEASE DO, but I think it already exists somewhere. I might be wrong.
>> No. 1040
>>16

Yeah, I wrote a short Tentaspy thing for one Kink Meme thread but DUDE I WANNA SEE THIS ANON WRITE ONE SO BAD

<3333
>> No. 1041
>>17

it was either in my thread or the kin meme one, anyway

don't remember

anyway sorry for comment spam I LOVE THIS STORY
>> No. 1055
Author, I love your Tentaspy, the poor creature. Write more please?
>> No. 1415
More please.

I love your take on how the tentaspy came to be... I hope he finds a companion... one he won't eat or kill. Maybe the Scout?
>> No. 1438
>>20
This idea is a good one!

More please indeed
>> No. 1477
moar plz


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