Chapter Text
Ben remembers life before the tank.
Before confinement in dead salt water, where he is forced to curl his eight tentacles and twist tightly on himself to move. Remembers being flexible for the joy and for hunting, not simply to exist within this small space.
To be free to snatch his prey, rather than on display to humans. Annoying, loud humans who stare and press hands to the clear walls, a sea of ever-changing faces. Before being dropped fish to eat, and fearing the lightning that comes to shock his anger into darkness.
Before becoming “The Horror” of Umbrella Circus.
