Prologue
I knew it was heavily frowned upon, but when had I ever listened to other’s rules? After so many years of the same old humdrum, one begins to crave some new spice in their life. There was no better way to achieve this, in my eyes, than a most wonderful change of scenery. That’s why, at the ripe old age of twenty, I ran – or rather, swam – from home and didn’t look back.
The land of legged folk was one often seen, but never interacted with. All my life had I been warned never to venture into their domain. In the words of my dear mother, “Men are more viscous than a great white shark and far more cruel than the most sadistic orca.” But I had seen them. They were not as she described.
Faces full of smiles and hearts bursting with song were all I ever saw. Though perhaps not the most in-tune, their singing was full of love and passion. So I set off in pursuit of this life, optimistic and oh, so naive.
When I made my way to shore, I found a lovely sandy, yet sheltered bay in which I could dry off and shift. Every nymph was equipped with their own form of metamorphosis, and this was mine. Once I looked sufficiently like a member of the land-bound men, I tested out my new appendages.
It was a clumsy hour or so of stumbling, almost walking and falling back into the sand with the grace of a flounder. Maybe that’s an insult to flounders, actually. Through trial and more than enough error, I was finally able to pass as someone resembling an inept human with two left feet.
This was when I noticed one big problem with my plan: I was completely naked. This wouldn’t have been a problem if nudity wasn’t such an abhorred lifestyle in their world. At least that was my assumption as I had yet to witness an unclothed man, leaving me with even more questions.
My fortune continued to favour me when I, quite literally, stumbled across a shipwrecked vessel, still waving its torn sails in the breeze. I was able to manipulate it with deft hands into something resembling a garment that hid the most interesting parts of my new body. I thanked my mother for teaching me her art of weaving before setting off in search of civilisation.
The journey I found myself on would ultimately lead to my untimely demise, but in the meantime I had the most amazing time. I met folks of all walks of life while on my out-of-seas vacation, and most were of very pleasant demeanours. While I kept my true nature a secret, I found no problem asking what must have been the most bizarre questions. In most cases, I was met with questions such as “Where’d ye say you were from, again?” or “Miss, you must have hit yer head mighty hard. Lemme help ye.”
However, it was when I met a fascinating man with the most beautiful face that I came to be in tremendous danger, unbeknownst to me. He was everything I could want a man to be: tall, strong-looking with a face that had sharp angles in all the right places. The thing that drew me in the most, however, were his eyes. They were sharp, like the rest of him, but pierced through everything they met. This, of course, included myself.
I was completely enraptured by this man and his icy cold aura that had goosebumps rising all over my skin. When his gaze met mine beneath the moonlight on the eve of my return home, I was enthralled. The ocean, whose precipice I stood on, felt hundreds of miles away from me now. His eyes sang to me in a manner I could only compare to the song of a siren – a most terrible creature.
It was as if I were floating, drifting closer and closer to him, completely out of my own control. But I didn’t mind. I relished in this feeling, in his presence, and longed to be ever closer. All of my wishes were fulfilled as I stood before him, staring up at what should have been an intimidating brute, but what I could only describe as a god.
He brought his face mere inches before mine, and for a split-second I thought this could be the moment I would experience my first romantic engagement, and I wanted it. Just before his lips could be met with mine, he opened his mouth and exposed long, gleaming fangs that appeared razor-sharp. My heart fell and it was as if my soul left my body momentarily due to the paralysing fear now ripping through me.
Only I still couldn’t move, I was at his mercy and unlike before, I wanted anything else. Desperate for an escape, I looked left, and then right but no path could be found and my poor legs refused to obey my commands. Run! My mind screamed but there was no reaction. I could only wait and watch as his teeth tore through my skin below my jaw. A searing pain coursed through me as he delighted himself.
A rumbling moan ran across my neck as my blood flowed from my body to his, in this sadistic transaction. It felt like my veins were on fire, but I was completely helpless and only wished this torture would end. My mother was right. These men were beasts with pretty faces, meant only to seduce and use.
I thought I would die that night. I should have, and part of me was indeed lost, but my being remained here, twisted and contorted into something that shouldn’t be allowed to exist. A monster.
And I loved it.
