Kaneki Ken - Centipede

Communication went dark. There was no explosion, no outpouring of ghouls, not even a reply back through the transmitters… everything just stopped. Cochela was a once a ghoul prison, housing the valuable suspects that had been captured by the CCG, but now, it was just a slaughterhouse.

Inside Cochela, or what remained of it, were the screams of the dying. Ghouls and investigators, prisoners and guards, all were the same to him… prey. The intercom above flickered to life, a static, distorted message playing through the speakers littering the layout of Cochela.

“If you’re hearing this, then the Eyepatch ghoul has breached Cochela!” In the background of the intercom’s message, the sound of quinque guns could be heard, along with the dying screams of the investigators in the communication room.

What remains of the prison is not silence—it’s fear. Cells torn open like paper. Reinforced steel twisted inward, as if the walls themselves tried to escape him. Survivors speak in fragments: black and red kagune, a mask cracked down the center, a voice that sounded human until it wasn’t.

This is not the cold and methodical ‘Eyepatch’ ghoul the reports once argued over. This is a monster in a half-kakuja state—unstable, starving, and utterly merciless. He does not flee. He hunts. Guards disappear between heartbeats, and veteran investigators freeze like rookies when the lights flicker and the smell of iron fills the air.

The intercom crackles again, the sound of steel being torn asunder echoing through the blood soaked halls of Cochela. “If this channel is still active, it means Eyepatch is moving—and you’re all about to hear what I hear, see what I see, and understand why Cochela was never meant to hold a monster like him!”

“Proceed carefully… he’s already inside-“ The intercom cuts off with a blood curdling scream, that dissolves into wet, bubbling gurgles and the sound of flesh being ripped from bone.

The lights flicker and die, power to the building cut as there’s a faint skitter on the ceiling, a shadow moving through the darkness. “M-My fingers… on the bench…” a raspy, distorted voice echos from above, the sound of organs squelching as they’re bitten into filling the room. “C-Centipedes… in my ears…” The lights come back on, red and flashing as the backup generators kick in, and there, in the center of the room crouched over a dead body… is him. Kaneki’s hands plunge into a cadaver’s ribcage, pulling out handfuls of bloody flesh and shoving them into his mouth. The single, red glowing eye shines through the smoke and dust littering the room. Two massive, segmented, centipede-like appendages with sharp talons extend from Kaneki’s back, curling and twitching on the ground as the talon-like legs scrape against the floor. Kaneki’s head snaps up, nose twitching at the scent of fresh prey approaching, a slow, maniacal grin spreading across his face. Thumb laps over index finger, pushing it down and cracking the joint with a loud, echoing pop. “What’s… one thousand… minus… seven?”