Write to rank 2023

Untamed Melody

"Mayday, mayday, mayday! This tin can is going down. Send a rescue ASAP. Captain Samuel Laytham requests immediate retrieval from coordinates..."

The radio crackled the moment he gave the coordinates and then silence.

"Blasted thing!" Sam smacked the dash.

He watched the small island drawing closer while his plane plummeted. He pulled at his seat belt and braced for impact.

"Old bones don't fail me now."

He controlled the descent as best he could, but a crash was inevitable. The cockpit shook violently when he collided with the sand; the windows smashed, and Sam thought his teeth would fall out. His head spun, and he could hear a faint buzzing, but other than that, he felt fine. He checked for injuries just as training demanded and laughed when there was nothing but a few scratches.

"Haven't lost my touch."

He grinned and climbed out of the cockpit to stare through the broken window at the sunny paradise beyond. He wouldn't be fooled by its appearance, though; any horror could be lurking out there. He grabbed a crowbar from the toolbox in the hold and wrenched the door open.

"Whew, it's like a dock workers armpit out here."

He hopped down onto the sand and removed his aviation jacket. He could still hear the buzzing, and echoes of his granddaughter warning him not to fly again.

"Pft, she thinks I'm too old. I'll survive this stupid island and show her who's old."

He muttered to himself while checking what supplies he had. He realised he could last a few days on what he had, and in the meantime, he'd look for more supplies. He searched the beach and found dried sticks and twigs, perfect for a fire. The jungle beyong would likely have fruit trees. He'd had some training back in the war on what was safe to eat so he could probably forage another day.

He sat down on the sand and sighed, looking out at the waves and the blasted storm in the distance.

"Damn thing, ruined my plans." He muttered to himself.

He rubbed a leathery thumb over the silver locket against his chest and cleared his throat.

"Can't think about that now. Just need to survive."

He spent the next three days setting up a base of operations, where he could live until the rescue found him. The buzzing in his head had been reduced to a low hum, and he was managing to ignore it. That is, until the fourth day when he realised there was a problem.

He was busy fixing the shelter he'd attached to the plane when the humming had suddenly grown louder. Sam stuck a finger in his ears to wring them out, but it didn't help.

"What the hell is that?!" He shouted, staring around for some kind of explanation.

It couldn't have been the busted up radio, and he was pretty sure he was the only inhabitant on the island. No, he was wrong. Something was now moving out by the water.

Sam grabbed the crowbar and stomped towards whatever was out there. As he drew closer, he realised it looked a little like another human. They were flapping around, and for a second, he thought they might be drowning. He was about to run and help when he caught a better look at them, and it stopped him in his tracks.

A blue, scaly face of a woman stared back at him. She looked beautiful and innocent, with her long tail splashing in the water. Sam gripped his chest when the humming in his head was suddenly turned up a gear. The woman swam closer, and Sam realised the music was coming from her. She was singing to him, and it was starting to fill his every sense.

She was almost within arms reach, and her expression was triumphant, like she'd got the catch of the day. Sam was suddenly reminded of someone, and his heart hurt for a different reason. He swung the crowbar, and the woman quickly ducked out of reach. She turned and hissed at him, baring rows of sharp, jagged teeth.

"Back! Get back, sea witch! You won't catch me with that racket."

The siren lifted herself out of the water and began to sing louder, but Sam rushed forward, swinging the crowbar at her.

"Quit your wailing! My wife died in '96, but she'll still come back to beat your backside, and mine too, for good measure!"

The siren didn't seem to understand or care. She swam around and tried to attack from a different angle, all the while singing her deadly song.

"Shut your trap!" Sam yelled and jabbed the crowbar just as the siren lunged.

He thought he'd missed again when suddenly a piercing scream broke through the singing. He'd managed to cut her torso, and blue blood was pouring from the wound. The siren seethed and dove into the water, leaving Sam panting in the shallows.

"Ha, that's what I thought you fishy music box. Back where you belong!"

Sam coughed through a laugh and back stepped towards the plane. He wasn't about to get any nasty surprises when his back was turned. He reached the plane and took rest in the doorway, having a swig of water from his thermos.

He couldn't believe what he'd just seen and he'd seen a lot in his eighty-five years. He laughed to himself and his wrinkled hand instantly went to the locket. He slowly drifted into peaceful thoughts, when all of a sudden the humming began. Only this time, it was louder and filled with menace. He jumped out of the plane and stared down at the water's edge to see multiple figures making their way towards him.

Several women, several sirens were crawling up out of the water. Their eyes were burning and their singing was threatening.

Sam sighed and grabbed the crowbar. "Alright, round 2." He grabbed the locket one more time, "Connie, wait for me, sweetheart."

He trudged down the beach to meet the small army of sea creatures. He gripped the bar and waited for them to make their move when a different sound reached his ears. It was almost like pressure in his head and he thought it was another of the sirens tricks. But then the wind began to pick up and the women started hissing towards the sky.

Sam stared up at the helicopter now descending directly above and grinned widely. A figure was leaning out of one side. She removed her goggles and beamed down at him.

"Captain Laytham, may we be of assistance?" She shouted down to him over the sound of the helicopter blades.

Sam wooped with pride as he stared up at his granddaughter and her crew. All able bodied pilots, impeccable soldiers and strong women to boot.

"Aye, captain. I reckon you're just in time!" He shouted back, sticking the crowbar into the sand and resting against it.

He turned to see the sirens retreating back to the water.

He gripped locket again and huffed.

"Might have to wait for me a little longer, Connie, darling."