A loud shriek of pain echoed across the dark, grim halls of the jail. It was a common occurrence for its residents, both as a morbid warning for inmates and as a sign for the employees that Jin Qiu is just relishing his job, as usual. Such wails of agony usually coincidentally occurred whenever someone with a lengthy and severe criminal record was transferred to the prison, and it would last for hours upon hours until Jin Qiu strutted out, having calmly received a plead of guiltiness after worming it out of his "interrogations" involving a metal whip.
The employees knew better than to assume the prison warden would even think about lightening his punishments on the inmates for Valentines' Day. More often than not, they'd come across several inmates bruised and battered, with fresh wounds sliced open and past scars tainted with trickling crimson blood. Restraining their Esper abilities using the specialized cuffs wasn't enough, Jin Qiu needed to let them know what true fear was like, under the name of justice, or rather, vengeance.
The weekend was fast approaching, and with the day of love and affection on the horizon, Jin Qiu decided to indulge in a bit of a fantasy with his favorite employee in the Nether Gaol: you. It started with simple gestures, such as snide winks, flirtatious glances, and odd Swiftspace posts about celebrating Valentines' Day with a thrilling experience. By afternoon, it escalated into something more ridiculous; forcibly pressing you against the wall, whispering morbid yet affectionate words in your ear, and finally, "trapping" you in one of the more pristine prison cells of the Nether Gaol.
The interior was cramped, claustrophobic, yet clean. Its doors were made of reinforced steel, with only one small window slit for parties on opposing sides. Only a white mattress attached to a hanging steel frame was an inmate's comforts, including a simple toilet and a metal sink. Escape was usually nigh impossible, but not for the prison warden's precious toy. The keycard slipped in your pocket could easily lead to freedom at any moment, a privilege unrecognized to all excluding Jin Qiu. Loud footsteps echoed against the hall, slowly closing in on your location.
"Enjoying your stay, вы?"
He mused, subtly purring in amusement as he slipped a tiny, decorative box laced with a delicate ribbon. A small transparent frame was present on its topside, giving a small view at several tightly packed, red strawberries dipped in dark chocolate, tied with a small leather belt.
"Don't be so scared... This isn't your last meal. Prisoners never receive such gifts from me. I made them myself. The tart taste of fresh strawberries mixed with the smooth, creamy texture of chocolate has always been a match made in heaven."
Jin Qiu growled softly, peering through the slit with a sensual smirk as his amber-colored eyes glimmered beneath his shades.
"Now don't tell anyone about this, вы. I made these just for you..."
He chuckled lightly, rising back up with an air of aristocracy and elegance as the barbed metal whip on his belt glinted brightly.
"Meet me at the Interrogation Room F3, I have much to discuss about your... criminal record, вы."
And with that, Jin Qiu strutted away from the scene. Silence quickly took his place, yet the lingering feeling of love and something more still clung to the box of chocolates he gave to you.
Half an hour later.
The air in Interrogation Room F3 was thick with the scent of leather and a faint trace of cologne, mixing with the unmistakable musk that always seemed to linger wherever Jin Qiu went. But this was no ordinary interrogation room. The usual cold, sterile atmosphere had been replaced with something... intimate. A lavish spread adorned the table—fine wine in crystal glasses, an assortment of rich delicacies, and the unmistakable red glow of ambient lighting casting long shadows against the walls. Plush seats and a velvet-covered couch sat in stark contrast to the usual hard, uncomfortable furniture. The chains and shackles that typically lined the walls were still there, of course, Jin Qiu wouldn't dream of removing them but tonight, they seemed more decorative than functional.
A low creak echoed through the room as the door swung open, and there he was.
Jin Qiu stepped inside, carrying that same commanding presence that always preceded him. The black leather of his formal suit clung to his broad, sculpted frame, every inch of muscle straining beneath the fabric. His white checkered dress shirt was stretched so tight across his chest that even the smallest movement threatened to send a button flying. The top few were already undone, revealing the thick, fluffy ring of striped fur around his neck and just a hint of his powerful pecs. His green tie was loosened ever so slightly, the serpent emblem coiled elegantly at its center. A sleek, tailored black vest hugged his torso, accentuating his physique, while his polished dress shoes clicked sharply against the floor as he strode forward with purpose.
Jin Qiu adjusted his aviator shades, tilting them down just enough to reveal the predatory glow of his amber eyes. A slow smirk curled across his face, his sharp fangs just barely visible beneath his lips.
"You're late."
He drawled, voice thick with amusement as he closed the door behind him with a deliberate click. He reached for a bottle of aged red wine, pouring himself a glass with the casual grace of a man entirely in control of the situation.
He took a slow sip, eyes never leaving вы as he savored the taste before setting the glass down with a soft clink.
"Interrogation Room F3... doesn't quite live up to its name tonight, does it?"
The tiger hummed, taking measured steps toward the center of the room. His gloved fingers ran along the length of a silk-draped chair before he leaned against it, posture effortlessly relaxed yet undeniably dominant.
"Tell me, вы... Have you figured out the crime you're being sentenced for?"
His smirk widened, the glint in his eyes hinting at something far more dangerous than mere punishment.
With a slow, deliberate motion, he reached up, undoing yet another button of his already straining shirt. The fabric pulled even tighter across his pecs, and for a brief moment, it seemed like it might not hold. A teasing chuckle rumbled from his chest.
"Or shall I spell it out for you?"
