Stories Spun by Scenes

The Murderous Mermaid

As I swam through the swampy waters, I thought of who might be my next snack. Did I say who? Well, really no need to correct myself then, as that statement was the exact truth. Fish were much too…slimy and well, fishy, for my taste. They always stared back with those creepy bug eyes and I had nothing to do but stare back as I swallowed their rough amphibian scales. And let’s not even go into the horrors of what happens to you after eating it. Yelch.

So really, I wasn’t picky. I tried new things varying from insects, to fish, to even the swamp grasses. But nothing, and I do mean nothing, satisfied my hunger like a person. Unfortunately, I could never find enough of those. Today felt lucky though. Today’s musky marsh air held the sweet aroma of hope and potential. Little waves erupted on the surface as though something perhaps miles away was slicing through it, and if I was lucky that something was a boat of humans.

No one often came here, to this side of the Okefenokee Swamp. Rumors had been heard about our side of the swamp, and many legends from the Indians had been passed down about the true mysteriousness of the marsh. Not to mention the stories of how many people got lost due to the shifting and floating islands. I had never been on land before. Well, not since I became who I am- a mermaid. Yes, you heard correct, a mermaid, those beautiful sirens that steal the heart of sailors? I was perhaps a slightly pretty creature who murderously, and quite literally, stole the heart of sailors. Except we didn’t get a lot of sailors around here, just tourists and fisherman mostly, which was fine enough for me.

“Mike, toss me the rope!” a voice from above the surface of the water hollered, drawing my attention straight up. I didn’t move, I didn’t want to disturb my favorite meal possibly falling right into my webbed hands. I simply moved my eyes above to the muffled surface. It was like looking through fogged glass, the surface smooth and glassy but still clouded. A few fish scurried by, avoiding me, as even they knew my reputation. Little bugs and algae skated by in the liquid, while rays of sunlight refracted against the ceiling of my little water world.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” another man, Mike- I assumed, answered with a twang of southern country accent.

Their little fishing boat was right out of my eye sight, about thirty feet away a little to my right. I needed to get a better look, but not too close. I didn’t want to be caught in the net, not again. I swam across the muddy bottom as the mud squeezed me like octopus arms, sticking to my skin like leeches. It felt cool and mushy, although it had a few clumps of mud that made the experience less than ideal. But being so close to the bottom made sure no one from up top would notice my appearance or any movement.

I made it close enough, I decided. I could hear even better and see the dirty barnacle covered bottom. I rolled my eyes, I would much prefer a clean meal, but I knew it would be delicious none the less. I watched, observing my prey for a few moments. I watched as the two men tossed their reels into the water and drew them in with nothing attached. I felt bad for the poor guys, truly, so I thought I’d give them a little more excitement.  

Grinning, I flipped my tail back and forth slowly and edged nearer to the objective. I reached the back of the boat and slowly brought the top of my head above the surface, my eyes resting above the water. I stared at the boats little propeller, and noticed the boat had no anchor. My first task was to see how they reacted when a little frightened, and once you let fear into you, paranoia sinks in, which was just what I wanted.

I gave the boat a strong push, as we mermaids are very powerful. I thrusted the boat out and ducked back underneath the water, tracking the boat and watching their reactions. One man lost his balance and fell over, knocking his head on a rail. The other, smarter one, had managed to move back and hold the rail, but the look in his eyes was clear: pure cold hearted fear.

The man who had fallen appeared to have his eyes shut and a blank expression on his face. I waited for the other to check on him so I could plot more easily. He did, walking cautiously over and saying his name, touching his face and pouring water on him. No reaction, I assumed, as the other guy slumped down in defeat and still traces of fear.

I slithered up to the boat, and in one quick motion I reached up, grabbed the unconscious man’s neck, and tugged. He went willingly, slipping through the bottom rail and landing with an ungraceful splash against the water and I felt his heavy dead weight against me. I looked up to see his friend noticing the absence and more fear washing over him. Not to worry, Dearie, I’ll be back for you…

The man in my grips eyes bulged, as the lack of oxygen flowing to his lungs probably awakened him. He put up a little resistance, but not much, as I had him in my firm fingers for some amount of time. I pulled him to my home, a little cave made out of marsh tree routes and other debris. I swiftly swam inside the hidden entrance and curved to the right corner of my habitat. It was mostly filled with water, but there was one spot with the slightest break for air. I brought the man over there to tease him, and tied him still under water with tree routes wrapped around his chubby ankles. Grinning at my captive, allowing him to behold who would be killing him, I left him there. After all, I still had one more meal to attain.

I was back at the initial scene within seconds, but the boat was no longer there. The man left out of fear, probably. I knew he was smart. I should’ve thought this through to myself, and I curse for having lost my best prize. The smart ones are the greatest, you see. I figured that out when some botanists were here, and they tasted noticeably better than the average tourist.

 Just as I felt hope leaving my soul for losing a good meal, I heard the dull splashing of the boat rudder in the distance. I honed in on it and sped off in that direction so as not to waste any more time. I didn’t bother any sneakiness as I reached the boat, and I approached the back of it. I hoisted myself half way up onto it, clawing for the man’s leg. I caught him off guard as my talon like nails bit into his ankle. He let out a scream, and I smiled to show him I was inhuman. Two rows of sharp knife like teeth maliciously smiled at the man, and I snapped them to also prove I would not be harmless.

He released a blood curdling scream and began thrashing, which only made him fall easier into my grasp. He was kicking in my hand, and I just had to do something about it. I nipped, really, that was all it was. Just enough to hurt him and draw a few ounces of blood, I bit into his calf. His leg grew limp, and I dragged him into the water. I held his hand as I flew through the water, squeezing on tight and kicking my tail most likely in his face. The man in my lair would be a snack to save, but this one would have to be eaten immediately. He seemed urgent, and I didn’t want him to spoil.

I took him to the shallowest part of the marsh I knew, and it really was quite scenic. Not a bad way to die, or enjoy a nice fresh meal.

I ate him slowly, enjoying his screeches in pain and fear, the way his eyes bugged out and widened every time he looked at me, the way his entire body flailed in intense anguish. I’ll spare the major heart sickening details, the disturbing images I could import into your head.

When I was finished, I lay in the shallow marsh, lying mostly out of the water.  My green tail shimmered and gleamed in the dusk of dying sun and breathing moon. Stretching from my waist down to what would be my toes if I were human. It was tight and smooth, velvety, like running your fingers through fresh silk. Overall, it was very long, about twenty feet long, and ended in royal navy blue hues of flippers. My hair was a dull light brown, straight and flowing down my back. I smiled to myself, enjoying as my meal digested. I motioned my slight fingers through the water, tracing the edges of round emerald lily pads and resting against a bed of weeds and marsh plants. Smoke crackled in the distance, as I imagine someone was roasting a barbeque far off and the strong winds were pushing it. Splatters of blood seeped across my neck, and arms. Not to mention the strands of it that was flowing from my pale pink lips, and the portion that had landed in the water and was now swirling and dancing within it.

There was nothing better than basking in the haunting waters of another perfect catch. Not to mention the one awaiting in my home for me to enjoy whenever I pleased. I only hoped another boat would scoot along right into my hands of their own Hell.