* * * *
When I woke up, I almost didn’t remember the night before but the image of her eyes haunted me. I stumbled into the bathroom with clean clothes in hand. I reeked of ocean and blood. I looked in the mirror and was surprised to find that there were no cuts on my face at all. I frowned and looked at my hands too. There were no cuts or nicks on my hands either. My shoulder was still covered in a bandage but when I pulled it away, not even the bite marks were left.
“Maybe I had imagined it all,” I said aloud to myself. I had officially gone crazy. I turned on the shower as hot as I dared and hopped in after taking off my pajamas. The water felt so good as it beat against my back. As I started scrubbing my hair, a strange popping sound filled the air. I didn’t really think anything of it until my washcloth started catching on my skin.
After catching for the third time, I decided to look and see what it was sticking to. I nearly screamed. It was sticking to scales. Scales that were attached to my skin and a peculiar clear-water blue color. I began to hyperventilate, little whimpers escaping my mouth. I ran my hand over the rough skin.
I was delusional. I surely had taken something. I was freaking out.
I stopped touching my shoulder and ran my hand over my face. I probably shouldn’t have been shocked to find rough scales there as well. This time, I did scream. It wasn’t ear piercing or super high, it was a small scream that was for my ears only. I sank to the floor of the shower and scooted away from the spray.
“Oh my god,” I muttered. I scrambled out of the tub and began to pat myself dry. C’mon, I thought hopefully, go away. The ones on my face began to morph back to skin as the moisture dried. I let out a loud breathe in relief. The scales on my shoulder though, were still there. I only covered them with the sleeves of my t-shirt and hoped that they would go away.
Looking in the mirror, I could see the scales peeking out of the sleeve and that scared me. My normally mahogany colored hair was black at the roots and at the tips. My sky blue eyes were darker, the color of the sea. I was changing…
It was already past noon. So I gathered my wallet and my beach bag and left the hotel. Not a single person glanced my way. I decided I was going to get souvenirs for my family. You know, t shirts and little things for them to put on shelves and forget.
My day passed in a blur. I don’t remember much of it and I’m not sure I’d like to. For what parts I can recall, it was rather uneventful. As evening quickly approached, I once again found myself at the beach. Families were clearing out as the sun sank into the western horizon. I stared out at the east, the direction of the ocean.
Memories of the night before were bothering me. The mermaid girl had said “Ah bay beck” to me. I’ll be back is what she meant. But why would she come back and why was she screaming “Siren”? The night before had been horrifying and when the sun had finally disappeared, I had found myself walking across the beach, straight toward the dock.
My bucket of shells was still there surprisingly. I picked it up and fingered the shells inside. They were really pretty. I sat down in the sand and continued to inspect the lovely shells.
A familiar splash echoed through the beams of the pier. My back stiffened. I froze. Of course I knew anything could’ve made that splash. A few minutes passed in silence before I even began to relax.
In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the best idea to sit near the spot I had been attacked in the middle of the night. It especially didn’t help that jumped at every shadow and froze at every noise. It was an automatic reaction after experiencing a trauma. I sat in silence with the ocean.
It wasn’t until the head bobbed above the water that I saw it. The eyes are what caught my eye. An all too familiar seaweed green. “Siren,” she said, smiling big enough to show off her jagged teeth.
My eyes widened and my instincts screamed at me to flee and flee fast.
“Ah tod ya, Ah bay beck! Nah ah beck!” She crawled toward land.
I moved away from her. I wasn’t quite sure what to say, so I didn’t say anything. I got off my butt and went to stand up. Instead, a new voice called out, “Wait, please!”
I frowned and turned to wear it was coming from. This time, I found a guy mermaid (merman?) staring back at me. He was very similar to the girl except he had less scales. There were patches of skin creeping out around the green-blue scales. His eyes were blue—completely blue. There was no white part around the iris and there was no pupil. They still darted to and fro as if he could see, so I assumed he wasn’t blind. His hair was nearly as long as the girl’s and the same shade.
“Excuse her,” he said in a surprisingly deep and gentle voice. “She doesn’t speak well and her people skills are almost not existent. I’m sorry for any fear she has caused.” He wiggled his way onto land, his fish tail flopping. He waited a minute and, much to my disbelief, his tail morphed into legs. He stood up and looked down, testing his legs. “Much better.” He approached me. I tried not to let my eyes stray but…uh, it was easier said than done… He stuck his hand out to shake. “I’m Clint.”
I bit my lip and took his hand. “I’m Lexi.”
“Well, Lexi, that is Carolina and she appreciates you helping her.” He glanced back at the half human, half fish girl relaxing in the sand. His watery eyes softened toward her. When his attention turned back to me, he asked, “Did she bite you?” I nodded. “I was afraid of that,” he said, shaking his head.
“What’s happening to me?” I questioned after a few uncomfortable moments of silence.
“You’re changing,” he replied.
“Into what?”
“Carolina said you were the Siren.” He must’ve seen the way my lips puckered and my eyebrow squeezed together. “You must think we’re called mermaids,” he chuckled. “We are very different though. I am a Nixie,” he said as if that explained it all. “You really need to brush up on your mythology,” he tsked. “A Nixie is a water spirit. We are very gentle and close to human because we were once human, though we must always remain near the water. Carolina,” he gestured to the girl, “is a Nereid. Her kind is the least human of all of us. She relies purely on instinct and she can’t go on land at all.”
Since this was starting to make more sense, I ducked my head in understanding. “What is a Siren?”
“A Siren is a beautiful woman with a beautiful voice. In legends, they would lure in hopeless sailors by the singing and then devour them.” He must’ve seen my look of horror because he quickly added, “We don’t actually eat people, so don’t worry.”
“You said I was changing,” I said.
“I did,” he looked up at the sky, straight at the moon. “Carolina bit you on the full moon. That means you’re going to be a Siren.”
“Why does the full moon matter?” I asked.
“The full moon is the night for all anomalies. You haven’t heard of a werewolf changing when there was a crescent moon, have you?” He chuckled. “You aren’t the only one that this has happened to. Runaways like to head to the ocean, thinking they’ll find freedom. Some do in their human lives, others find peace with us. We’ve never had a siren join us before though. We get a lot of Nixies and Nereids because the change depends on personality.”
“You my dear, have one of the most beautiful voices I have ever heard and you yourself are very beautiful as well.” Carolina behind him made a whimper that caused him to smile. “You will make a great addition to our community.”
I shook my head at him. “No, I won’t be, uh, joining your community. I have a family that is expecting me to return home and a career ahead of me. I can’t just leave.”
Clint frowned. “You do not have a choice, my dear Siren. You will come willingly or unwillingly.”
My eyes widened again. My heart began to race. I was about to be kidnapped by mythological creatures. I dropped my bucket. It landed with a thud and the shells tumbled out. “I can’t come with you.” I took off in a dead sprint. Sadly, I was the slowest runne
r I knew and I was running on sand. It also didn’t help that I was running near water. My feet sank in with every step.
A shark fin popped up in the water right next to me. Soon more came, not all shark fins. Some were heads bobbing above the water, others were tails slapping the tide to gain speed to catch me. The first shark fin jumped out at me—it was a Nereid, one with a shark fin on the back of his neck and yellow eyes. He latched onto my ankle.
I struggled to free myself but it was useless. As soon as he had been immobilized, more Nereids and Nixies found their way onto shore. All of them crying out in various pitches of voice, “Siren! Siren!” More of them latched on to me.
They dragged me out to sea.
A Note from the Author:
Throughout the story, there wasn’t much of a chance to fully explain my idea of mermaids. In my world, there is three types. You can change by being bitten or drowning in the ocean. There are different symptoms to each type:
Nereids—This is the kind Lexi met first. They are completely covered in scales, they have little humanity, and they are vicious. People that are bitten on the full moon and have bitter or angry personalities usually become Nereids. They always stay in the water.
Nixies—Nixies are water spirits. When I say spirits, I mean that they were once humans but they drowned in the ocean and the ocean gave them life. They have the ability to switch from tail to legs if they want. They are, for the most part, covered completely covered in scales. Patches of skin show through the scales though. Their eyes are a solid color since eyes are the window to the soul and technically, a Nixie is the embodiment of a soul. Must always remain near water.
Sirens—They are beautiful women with beautiful voices. In legend, they sang and drew in helpless sailors to kill and devour. They have the most humanity and are covered in light colored scales. The scales make a strong yet thin armor around their bodies. They can switch from tail to legs. They prefer air. Sirens have a strong connection with the water but they can leave it for short periods of times. The longer they are away from the water, the more small amounts of water affects them.
These ideas of mermaids have come from mythology and pictures drawn by artists. I do not claim to have ever seen a mermaid—just saying. But if I ever do, I will be sure to write it down.
Copyright—Hannah Cuckler 2012©
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