She’s not hard to locate when I swim around the island and find her at another beach. Her song-like laughter fills the air. She’s racing around in the sand with someone else – a slim young man. Their colouring is so similar that I wonder if they are siblings. Their light hair glows in the sunlight and their lean bodies are tanned from their time spent out in the sun. I swim a little closer.
She’s oblivious to anything wrong with the world as her girlish squeals carry over to me on the warm breeze. I will make her pay for that joy. She will go out for a swim once again. That boy won’t be with her always. She likes to venture out alone at times, I know this much about her. Every writer is this way. I will use that to my advantage.
One day she will return to the waters alone and I will catch her. Despite my hate for the two of them, they are rather amusing to watch. There was once a time when I ran along the coast with a boy. I can almost feel how I used to love the hot sun kissing my skin. The thought makes me cringe now as bright light beats down on my pale, wet skin from above. To be out of the water for too long would bring my death. I would dehydrate within the hour. My body needs to be submerged most of the time. It’s why people rarely ever see sea hags. We stay in the dark depths of the sea for our own comfort and protection. Most of us, that is. I have a special liking for watching and killing people. It’s my calling. I have no idea what the other sea hags do.
I drop below the water’s surface again. For some reason I don’t want to leave the area. I’m tired, but the dimly lit deep sea bores me. Sunken ships and brain-dead sharks lost their appeal years ago.
I linger by the coastal rocks, nestling within an underwater cave created by the rock cluster. I fall asleep, drifting a little. I awaken sometime later close to sunset. I come up to watch it, swimming to the rocks so I can do so from solid land. Despite being a creature of the sea, sometimes I prefer the stability of rocks. It reminds me that I was once human – that I had a life before the hateful ones cast me out.
“Ha!” shouts a masculine voice from above me.
I scream, backing away from the rocks. A young blond man is sitting on one of the rocks and he’s staring at me with a childish grin on his face. I stare at him, dumbfounded. No human has ever startled me before.
“Well done,” I say, catching my breath.
“I’m a master of sneaking up on people.”
He is the same boy my victim was playing with earlier. Up close, he is strikingly handsome with big brown eyes and smirking lips that anyone would long to kiss. I already hate him and his satisfied grin as he watches me. I let him be the one to break the silence.
“So, you’re really a sea hag? You’re not just a crazy old lady who can swim well?”
“Shut your trap,” I snarl. “Do you have any idea about how much of a miserable beast you are?”
His face falls when he sees my dark expression. I bare my teeth and it is not an act. I don’t care how handsome he is. He’s an idiot and those deserve to die in my world. I clench my fists.
“Lady, I was just out for an evening swim, but when I saw your red head bopping about, I wondered if what Enya said was true.”
Enya is her name. How lovely.
“What did she tell you about me?”
He leans forward, grinning at me again like a stupid boy. “She told me she saw a sea hag in the water and that you nearly killed her, but she promised to return here so that you would let her go. I laughed at her, but now I’ve got some apologizing to do. She was telling the truth. You’re as sea hag-ish as they come.”
“Do you have a death wish, boy?” I ask.
I want him to say something else so I can jump at him. He’d put up a good fight, but he’s no match for me when I am enraged. I take a deep breath, telling myself to wait. This one needs to be toyed with for a little.
He becomes serious again. “You want to kill her, don’t you?”
I answer him with a toothy smile, imitating him.
He raises his eyebrows. “You do want to kill her.”
“I’d kill you, too.”
He crosses his arms and I can’t help but admire his youthful muscles.
“How could you kill me? Look at you!” he mocks.
I shake my head. I could stun him with one slap from my tail and wring his neck with my thick hands if I want to. I consider doing it, but then decide that it wouldn’t be the most fun course of action.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
He clears his throat, thrown off by the question, by my calmness.
“My name is Timothy.”
“Ah,” I say. “Do you enjoy singing, Timothy?”
“I do sometimes. Enya has a beautiful voice, the most wonderful voice on the island.”
I roll my eyes. He’s definitely not her brother.
“Hm. Does she perform on stage?”
He shakes his head. “She sings for me sometimes. To help me relax. She’ll make me a good wife someday.”
I take a deep breath and I sing. At first, I’m a little quiet, but as the tune progresses, I sing higher and louder. His face transforms from surprised to infatuated. My song works like a spell. I don’t know what he sees as he looks at me, but clearly he’s enjoying the view. He moves closer to me, staring deep into my gaze. He reaches a hand to touch my face. His skin is warm on my cheek. His other hand softly touches my left breast; my heart is racing so quickly that I wonder if it will explode. I gaze at the face of the boy who is transfixed by his old seducer, amazed at his gentleness. Most of them start to grab by this point, maddened by my seductive spell.
“Are you all right?” he asks softly, running a hand through my wet hair.
I realize that I have stopped singing. I nod as my chest tightens. I wasn’t expecting this. I don’t know what to do. He brings his lips to mine and kisses me. His warmth collides with my coldness as he brings me closer to him, cupping both of my breasts, which overflow out of his hands. He runs a hand down the rolls of my stomach then down to my rump, grasping onto it for dear life. He kisses me again.
I feel fat in his strong embrace, yet he lifts me out of the water as though I’m a slender maiden. He lays me down on the rock and moves my curling hair away from my pale face.
“Can you be out of the water for long?” he asks.
I shake my head, barely able to breathe as the most handsome creature I have ever touched in my life stares down at me. In this moment, I am a woman again.
He grins wickedly. “I’ll make this quick then.”
I lose my breath as he slowly turns me over. A sea hag’s womanhood is, as one might intuitively guess, just below her backside. No one has ever penetrated it before.
He grabs a handful of my hair in his hand.
“I love your fiery hair,” he rasps into my ear.
He enters me slowly at first. I grab onto a rock in front of me, moaning from the simultaneous sensation of shock and pleasure. His thrusts rattle my entire body and I arch my back, screaming in ecstasy until he finishes inside of me. Breathless, we both lie on the boulder as the sky blazes an orange colour behind us. I am tingling all over. He runs his hand down my arm and I close my eyes. What is different about him? He props his head up on his other hand, looking at me with interest. Why is he not shuddering and vomiting into the sea at the sight of me? All I can do is stare at him. This is so strange, like a dream.
“How many men have you seduced with your song?” he asks.
I swallow hard, feeling a painful lump form in my throat. I am not accustomed to such humanlike feelings and I hate the dull ache that makes its way from my chest down to my stomach.
“I have seduced many to their deaths. Except for you.”
His brown eyes narrow. “Was I … am I your first, then?”
“Since I was transformed into a sea hag, yes.”
The boy takes me in with a final glance before turning over onto his back to disengage from the situation. He watches the sunset and I watch him. He has a strong forehead, an aquiline nose, a square jaw, and an elegant neck. What a handsome profile he has. If I were a sculptor, I would imitate his likeness so I could look on it from time to time, reminding myself that the encounter really happened, that I hadn’t imagined it.
He sighs deeply before sliding off the rock and into the cooling water. I watch him swim for the shore. It is dark by the time he reaches the sandy beach and walks home.
Most of us, that is. I have a special liking for watching and killing people. It’s my calling. I have no idea what the other sea hags do. And – I don’t know what to do – and a handful of unnecessary tags keep this from being a good read of something I wouldn’t seek out to read. Blame it on WP. Edit the 10% you don’t need out of it by getting in the middle of it and telling us too much when the story is doing the work already and you have a very good story. I’m not a troll. Really. Most people can’t write for shit – you go in a straight line with some punch. Admirable.
I like how it is. But thank you. 🙂
Thank you and I appreciate you giving it a read.
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