Clash of Tides (A merman story)

ARMS THAT FEEL HUMAN continue to tighten its grip on my body. Unable to comprehend what is transpiring, my survival instincts persistently take over. Kicking, flailing, and screaming underwater, I attempt to shake out of its hold. I am being squeezed; life is draining from me. I desperately try to swim to the surface, hoping to get oxygen for my lungs, but I’m immobile. I brace for death. A sudden thought flows through my mind: it is better to die here than be used for my body. Perhaps death is the answer; there will be no more pain. Calmness washes over me. I close my eyes, no longer seeing the cloudy depths of water but just darkness as I accept my death. As I stay still, a clammy hand strokes my chest, cupping my right breast underneath my gown. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes, mixing with the salty water that engulfs me. To my surprise, the creature—whatever it is—loosens its clutch around my waist. Is this my chance? I remain steady in the water, letting my lungs consume the salty liquid, but the creature moves me to the surface. Above the water, I gasp for air, hearing the assorted shouts of my friends. I blink, taking in the surroundings, when I see Seidon beside Lucas. He is yelling at me and is about to jump into the water.

Parting my lips, I yearn for words to escape from my mouth, but the sharp grip around my ankle returns, pulling me back under. I can only hear soft muffles of rumbling water around me as I close my eyes again, waiting to be devoured by this creature. Sharp pain flows through my muscles, burning with aches and discomfort. No longer can I take it, so I let my body slip into sleep. I am tired, too tired for combat. Dizziness floods me, and my figure succumbs to ghastly desires.

MY EYES ARE CLOSED, but my consciousness is awake. Dripping. I hear water echoing around me. I stir, feeling the moistness of my clothes sticking to my skin. Aching pains in my legs shoot through me, and my arms feel heavy, like rocks. Hard. Something jagged is piercing into my backside, deep in the skin, but I don’t feel blood. I want to lift myself and open my eyes, but I feel weak, drained of the strength I had before. The dripping continues as lukewarm droplets hit my face and run down my cheek. I know if I stay this way, I will freeze, so I have to get up; I must get up. Something has allowed me to live, but I wonder if it’s worth it. A chill breeze brushes across my locks, attempting to flap my hair, but it is too wet.

I want to stay here but must move; I need to get up, I think as I raise my heavy legs and arch my back. Snapping my eyes open, I blink rapidly, hoping to remove the water from them. My vision is blurry, making it hard to see. In the distance, above me, the beams of light blind my sight. It’s hard to view, but I make out a circular opening in the ceiling, just big enough to notice the sun’s faintness and receive its warmth.

Using my elbows, I prop myself up, stunned by the surroundings before me. I am in a cave, with narrow streams of water running down the light gray walls, and mini stalagmites cover the area. The wind from the cracks in the rocks blows through the room, and only the sun’s limited beams of heat keep me warm. A pool of ocean water sits in the center of the cave. Darting my eyes around, I search for any means of escape. So far, I only see one—the ceiling—and there is no way to climb. My teeth start chattering, my teeth. The sun’s rays aren’t enough to dry me thoroughly, and I start shaking. The chilly breeze almost freezes me stiff, and instinctively, I wrap my arms across my chest, attempting to create body heat. Turning my back to the circle of water, I wearily walk forward to the edge of the rocks and trace my finger down the humid, wet walls.

Confusion floods my mind as I ask myself numerous questions: How did I get here? Who brought me here? How can I escape, and where are the others?

“I need to find a way out,” I say to myself as I return my gaze to the ceiling. For a second, I see and hear birds fly above; they are Seagulls.

“There’s only one way out.” A sharp, masculine voice comes from behind me. In an instant, I whip around, seeing what looks like a man in the distance. He is leaning against the center of the wall, in the water. He seems calm with his closed eyes and crossed arms, but who is he? My mind draws a blank as the severity of the situation hits me. Seidon isn’t here, neither is Lucas or Mika and now I’m alone with a strange man who is leisurely swimming in the water. For a second, I wonder if I’ve died, but the sluggishness that consumes me signals my brain that I’m alive.

I am uneasy; this isn’t right; it doesn’t feel right. Today, I just needed to purchase a dress and then sell myself to some nobleman, and now, instead, I’m facing an unknown stranger. What happened to the creature that attacked me? This man, who is he?

“I won’t bite, come forward,” he says calmly. His eyes are still shut, and I have no choice but to comply with his request. It’s vacant but for him, and I need answers to my questions.

Trembling, I proceed forward, walking to the edge of the water. My breath catches in my throat as I hesitate to say or ask anything.

“Please…I need to get back to my friends. I don’t know how I got here.” I pause, still observing his calm nature. My horse voice riddles with fear and panic, but this man is still leaning against the wall; it’s as though my words do not rattle him.

A thought hits me: Did this man save me from the creature that attacked? “Are you…the one who saved me?” I ask him slowly, with curiosity lacing my voice. I try to maintain my composure— but fear is hard to hide.

“Oh? Did I save you?” He questions, his voice teasing and amused, and his eyes closed.

What does he mean by that? I muse to myself, wondering more about who this man is. If he didn’t save me, then why is he here?

“Please, can you help me? I need to get back…” I trail off as I hear the man groan in annoyance. At last, he finally drops his arms to the side and turns to face me; instantly, I am hit with a piercing glare that I’ve never felt before. It’s as if he is studying me; I am an open book, and he is the scholar learning all my secrets. My body freezes where it stands. His gaze not only intimidates me but it lures me to him. His eyes remind me of Seidon’s, two pupils that are multi-colored. Unlike Seidon’s, this man that frightens me has one dark blue eye and one sea-green eye. The hair on his head reaches his shoulders and is the color of midnight, so black it reminds me of darkness. His hair is wet but doesn’t stick to his flesh; it’s wavy like seaweed, and his visage captures me like no other. Within myself, I don’t know whether to be utterly afraid or taken enslaved by the features of this man. Men like him only exist within the elite class—like Seidon and Lucas—untouched by the ash of the factories or damaged by the harshness of life. I’m only close to men like him when I’m with Seidon or Lucas, and I know neither of them would ever want me. A long time ago, I accepted the fact that no dignified man would desire me; I’m not that girl, the pretty girl, or the debutante; I am a soon-to-be prostitute that no one will care for.

I first notice this man’s lean yet toned chest and chiseled jaw. Though he seems strong, his body is not too muscular. The features on his face are soft but masculine in ways I can’t describe. I’m at a loss of understanding. His hair seems wet, but it drips no water. His gaze continues to pull me to him, but I remain stiff. Finally, I blink, snapping myself from the spell he has cast over me.

I part my lips and say, “Do you know where I am? I need to get back to Hlynn.”

The man stares at me with a blank expression on his face. Silence passes between us, with the calm sounds of sloshing water reverberating among the rocky walls.

“Tell me something, woman, when did you last bleed?” he asks coolly. His tone holds an indifference to such a personal question.

I blink again, even more, confused over why he asked such a thing. This is not the time to be worrying about my cycle or when I last bled.

Anger starts to boil in my veins. Before, I was ready to die, but I’m alive now and need to return to Hlynn. Nightfall will come shortly, and I can only imagine how livid my mother is now.

“I already said I need to re—”

“When did you last bleed?!” A sharp tone cuts me off, stopping my speech in its tracks. His voice booms, reminding me of thunder, rumbling the water that encompasses him. I step back, my breath catches in my throat, and my heart pumps in fear. His firm eyes lock on mine, threatening me to answer him. At this moment, I think of my mother and my fear of her.

“A week ago,” I mutter quietly and then step forward. My heart beats in my chest, and panic engulfs me. I can only question who this man is and what he wants. Does he want to kill me? Did my mother make him angry? It is not uncommon for the children of prostitutes to be kidnapped or attacked. If the relationship between a buyer and his whore goes sour, then the women are the ones who suffer. Most upper-class men prefer to keep their perverse desires in the bedroom. My mother will never admit to it, but I know she has performed those debased acts before; however, I trust she is smart enough not to spread gossip.

A groan rumbles from his throat, and he averts his gaze from mine as if he is pondering to himself.

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. He turns his gaze back to me, looking indifferent. I swallow the gulp in my throat, hoping to get an answer from him.

“I don’t want to keep asking this, but please, I-”

“You’re never going to leave here,” he says harshly. His words are blunt and straightforward, but still, he catches me off guard.

“What?” I’m in disbelief at what I just heard.

“You’re never going to leave here,” he repeats, “look around you; there is no way out; well, there is one way,” he says coolly, as a devilish smirk twists on his lips. Quickly, he glances down at the water and then looks back at me. “But I do not advise it.”

Now, my body is in shock. Why is he doing this to me? What does he want with me? Indeed, if this were about my mother, he would say it.

I attempt speech, but the man quickly cuts me off.

“I hate wasting time, so I will tell you this bluntly. In 15 days, I’m going to fuck you, and you will provide me with a child.” His voice was firm, demanding, and powerful. I stand still as my knees buckle beneath me. I am wordless, unable to fathom what is happening. This feels like a dream, no, a nightmare; again, I’m being used for what is inside me, but why? I lift my body in slow movements, attempting to stand firm on my feet. I need answers, the truth of why this is happening to me.

“Impregnate me?” My voice is low, barely a whisper. Thoughts swirl in my mind, and I become dizzy, feeling faint.

“So, you can think, at least.” He keeps staring at me with that devilish grin. Does he enjoy playing with me? Is this a game? “And, once the child is born, I will kill you,” he says bluntly, in a dark tone that sends a shiver down my spine.

“Why?...Why are you doing this?” My voice is shaky, and my hands won’t stop moving, no matter how hard I try to control them; I’m drowning in fear.

He tilts his head to the side, averting his gaze to the blue liquid. “My reasons are my own; they’re none of your concern.” Like his stoic expression, his voice is the same, monotone.

“What...What if…I refuse.” My words stutter out.

“Refuse?” he pauses, arching an eyebrow at me, “I don’t remember giving you a choice.” He snarls. Shock courses through my veins, spreading to every inch of my body. I collapse to the ground, with only my arms weakly holding me up. This isn’t happening; it can’t be happening—but it is happening. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to hold back the tears, wanting to flow. With my eyes closed and head lowered to the ground, I only ask one question: “Are…Are you really going to do this to me?” I needed to know his answer. Has my flow of life changed? No longer will just my body be used, but my womb, as well? And I don’t know why.

“Yes,” he answers quietly. My mind is blank.

I look back at him as he turns away from me. He shifts his head around, glancing at me from over his shoulder. His face is empty, but for the first time since I’ve talked to him, his eyes reveal slight empathy.

Unable to face me any longer, the only view I have is his backside. “I know this is hard for you...I’ll leave you alone to let it all sink in, but as I said before,” he pauses again, “I wouldn’t try escaping. There are fates worse than the one I have planned for you.” His voice is low, showing a hint of concern but also threatening.

And with those words, he swims away, leaving me speechless and alone. Everything spins as if the ground is rumbling beneath me, and I wish it would.

A dark-blue fishtail—covered with shimmering scales—splashes above the water when he swims away. I stare at him as he leaves, wondering what monster has taken me.