Updated: Oct 31
The tales you’ve been told are cute. Vaguely amusing in their naivete.
They’re all lies.
We’re not charming, we’re not heroic. We’re pure predators.
I’m no adorable redhead hoping for some magical legs to seduce a glorious prince. Hate to be the one to break it to you, but that tale was twisted to salvage that prince’s pride. The adorable redhead and the vicious brunette were one and the same. And she most certainly had a voice, he was just afraid to hear it…
I know what I am, and I know why I come to these shores.
A wise girl would stay far from my beaches and banks. Because one scent of her, one sight of her, could have me rising from the water in the dead of night, for only one reason…
01 Cute Stories
The tale has been around as long as you’ve drawn breath. How man split into two worlds. One walking the dirt of the land. The other taking to the water. Eating the richer food to be had in the depths.
And adapting to the water.
We could still come to land though. And eventually we needed resources.
But the earthen mankind feared everything.
The night, the moon…The water.
And more than any of that, us.
Perhaps they had good reason.
But whatever the cause, they drove us back into the waves. Banishing us to the inescapable water for so long that walking on land became harder.
Then it became dangerous and our lieges forbade it.
There were wars. There were death cries. There were spears and shields and wooden blades broken into the hearts of my people. Until time silenced and the water grew dark over our heads. The sunlight over us becoming further and further away as the earthen men learned to sail. Washing along our waves and hunting our kind.
Often what they saw in the water, they perceived as fish.
But we were never far away.
And in stormy waters, one of us could land on those decks. Our warriors were strong and fierce, and even one, could take over an entire ship in the moments it took for the water to wash from the ship. Then we did as we were told and set the helm. Sending the ships back from whence they came. Taking the bodies of the dead with us. Rich in nutrients to feed our farms and hatcheries.
We’ve been quiet.
But we’ve always been here.
There was peace to be had with the dumber breed.
But we, ourselves, were still half earthen man. The problem with that was, we could only have one young our entire life. They were considered breathtakingly precious.
Some of us, not many, can scent a mate when they’re near. One that is strong enough to carry what we offer them.
Or, for our females, strong enough to survive mating them. Either way, it is often a painful process.
Our lieges have forbade any of us to touch ground anymore than once every thirty years.
This year is mine.
And I know the woman I’m hunting.
Well, perhaps not know. I’ve seen her.
She’s nothing like my kind. Built different, different skin. Everything about her is different.
Perhaps that is why I’m so drawn to her in the midnight hours. When I think about the yearning of my body and imagine her scent on my skin.
It was strange to imagine that her world was so naïve, that she had no idea I was out here, preparing to come for her.
There were adorable tales of pretty little things that made lovely deals with dark creatures to get her legs and walk the sands.
But that’s not what really happened.
It was so different from that. But a prideful prince, didn’t want to admit to finding out the frightening side of the creature he’d brought into his castle.
So, he told a pretty tale.
Sailors spoke of us in terror, telling stories that were a bit truer. Of how our pretty voices lured their ships to the rocks.
It wasn’t their ships we lured.
Everyone fears the truth.
I’m a deliciously wicked creature. Hardy, lusty, demanding, intimidating and vicious. I’m aware. I’ve been told enough to know it to be fact.
Most of my kind shied from me.
And she made me want to eat my own tongue.