I Am Death

Death

When the boat stills, the mermaid bursts out of the ocean and rests his folded arms on the edge of the boat, his long tail flopped down the side.

His muscled arms ripple under the strain, his face still red from speeding alongside my boat.

My eyes linger on his muscles a little too long.

He's a mermaid, he uses his core and his tail, there should be no need for muscular arms under water as everything weighs a fraction of what it does on land.

I've seen him swim, he hardly uses his arms at all.

Quite obviously his arms are toned through some other method, one in which I assume is killing due to his surprising ease with the activity.

"You checking me out creation?"

Distractedly my eyes drift to his smirking ones. I can feel my own smirk grow slightly at his obliviousness.

Not as smart as you think you are huh?

"Get a dick and I might be interested," I respond, I see his smirk falter, but it was a clear act to me. "You've been talking to Nick?"

"A long time ago, very long. I'm an echo."

He says as if I wouldn't know already. I knew he was an echo the second I dragged him into the boat by his hair.

His fear was unmistakable no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

He thought he had one-uped me by figuring out that I was a creation.

There's one thing he didn't seem to consider.

This was a game from the very beginning.

It's amusing to see a little earthling assume they're better than you. I've always been a step ahead. Always.

"I know."

"You... did?" He asks cautiously. "How?"

I narrow my eyes at him, a challenge.

Lie to me again. Let's see how far you'll take this. How superior you think you are.

"I know everything, I'm a creation."

"Oh," he clears his throat. "I guess that's pretty obvious."

I hum, waiting. Just waiting.

"What else do you know?"

I raise an eyebrow, discreetly tapping my nail against the deck a few times.

He'd hear. He'd know.

I grab Fade by the throat, heaving the heavy bastard from the edge of the boat and rise to my feet.

His height is a slight issue, I'm much shorter than him so while he's still in his shocked state I plant a foot on his tail so he doesn't start flapping about like a fish out of water.

I barely give him enough air to breathe, the squeaks squeezing through his throat amusing.

I pull him closer until my lips are by his ear, the stench of salt water, blood and fish nauseating at our proximity.

"I know everything," I murmur, the deeper meaning not lost on him.

Anderson finally stumbles in with a simple metal chair in his hands. By now, he recognised my cues and my favourite methods of torture.

When he sets the chair down and looks at me for approval, I raise an eyebrow. He looks back at the chair before quickly digging in his back pockets for the restraints.