Predator Lurking in the Waters

Chapter 8: Alone at Last?

Richard was in his cave, using a sharp rock to count the days that had passed. He had been gone for fifty days—or approximately so. The prince could hardly believe that he survived this long on the island—along with that creature. Incidentally, he hadn't seen the mer for days—it hadn't been in that spot where he had been feeding it, so he assumed that it must have healed, and made its way back to the water.

Oddly enough, there was this slight ache of disappointment that filled his heart. Although he initially was terrified of the creature, he had been accustomed to its strange but cute antics—how it would chirp at him and roll on his belly, how it would purr in contentment, and in a couple of occasions follow after him like puppy. The thoughts were enough to put a brief smile on Richard's face, but then realization had finally dawned on him. He was officially alone on an island, with a low probability of ever getting off.

The man groaned, and lied back down onto the hard, cold floor. Sunlight seeped through the large hole in the cave, and instinctively he covered his eyes from the blinding light.

This would be his life now–and forever. And the ponder was beyond petrifying—more so than when he thought he was going to be something's meal. He would never see his father again. He would never fall in love and get married nor have children of his own. He was spiraling in a deep depression—one that made him feel worse than hopeless. Richard was sure by now that his father's men—if they did indeed send rescue ships for him—that they probably have longed given up. They probably suspected that he, along with the others, were dead. After all, he himself had no idea where this island was located than how would expect others to know how to look?

His poor father's condition probably worsened from the stress in losing his son–his only son, only child. There would be no one from the direct bloodline to rule the kingdom, so they would have to opt for one of his cousins to become future king.

But Richard supposed it didn't matter anymore. Why should he worry for a kingdom he'd never see again? He was no longer a prince—his title had been long gone since the day he was washed ashore on this island. No, now he was just a man. A man without a country, inhabiting a place he could not call home. He was surviving, albeit it, not as nicely as he wanted, but he was alive. And all he had to do was to keep on living.

His days were simple: he would wake up, hunt and salvage anything he could find, cook his meals, bathe, and then go to sleep. Richard wondered how long he could keep this up. Although living on this island was less demanding than being a prince, he felt beyond exhausted. It was all too physical, and yet not enough to keep him stimulated.

He was bored, and yet so very anxious.

Richard got off of the floor, and decided to take a swim in the cenote's pellucid waters. He removed what was left of his pants, and steadily made his way in, keeping in mind of the sharp edges of the rocks. The water was cool to the touch, the sensation was enough to put his erratic mind at ease for the moment. A sigh of relief left his chapped lips, and he closed his eyes, relaxing to the sound of his breath.

Once his eyes were open again, he looked up, basking in the sunlight, and laid himself back so that he was floating in the water. The cenote was beautiful. It was layered in greenery, had crystals that embellished the rocky walls, and was peaceful. It was the perfect place to meditate and calm his nerves. And yet, he could only handle the silence for only a few moments before he was dunking his head into the water, and then rising up again only to scrub at his face in frustration.

He screamed.

Richard screamed on the top of his lungs, practically crying out like a wounded animal. From a distance he could hear a flock of birds being startled by his voice. They rose from the trees, flying far away from the cave. Although they provided him with hardly any company, (as he had no absolute clue they were there) Richard was almost peeved at himself for perturbing the birds. If he thought he was alone before, now he was truly alone, without even the presence of animals.

The only thing that was his companion was the sound of his own voice, his deep exhales, and the slight howl of the wind. It was a depressing thought, so Richard decided he didn't want to think any longer. He plunged himself into the water, his eyes shut closed as he held himself in fetal position. His body sank deeper, closer to ground of the pool, his last breath escaping him. But he dared not venture back up, seemingly content in staying this way as long as he could hold his breath—or perhaps even letting go, and just let himself lose consciousness.

And then something brushed against his skin. It didn't feel callous, nor grainy like the rocks that enclosed the pool of water. Rather it was soft, placid and smooth to the touch. So out of curiosity, he opened his eyes, and lo and behold, it was the creature! It had come back! And Richard was so very happy to see it—until he remembered that this was indeed a wild animal capable snapping him like a twig. Again, flight mode sought through and he hurriedly resurfaced, taking a deep breath.

The mer resurfaced along with him, its head lolling to the side in its usual manner. It chirped in excitement, and caught Richard before he could escape from the pool. The creature was strong, easily pulling him to the side so that they could be face to face.

Dumbly, Richard greeted the creature.

"Um...hi? Nice to see you again?"

The mer let out a purr, its glowing lavender eyes mesmerizing the man. He felt this strange attraction, this feeling that he was somehow being reassured.

This—this was definitely something different.