Fear the Siren

Fear the Siren - a short story

There was something so pleasant about a human's scream.

The way their bodies reacted with an instinct so deep that they lost control. The way their eyes widened at the sight of the siren with claws for nails. The siren with teeth like needles who was more beautiful than the devil. That dark power that was so incredibly irresistible that people died at the sight of her.

Ivy frowned. It was so utterly inconvenient when the humans died before they could scream. The terror that wafted off of them in waves was as delectable as the blood in their veins. So sweet and yet--

It was getting rather old. Being alive for two hundred years was great and all but Ivy wanted a challenge. An opponent, someone worthy of her.

She licked the blood of her latest victim off of her sharp claws, making a smacking sound with her lips as she did so. Grinning, the blood dripped from her lips into the water she relaxed upon, lazy and delighted.

Perhaps it wasn't necessary, though. It was awfully nice being the alpha of the sea. Queen. God. No one dared set a hand on her. She was feared by all creatures of the deep.

Ivy sighed in annoyance as she realized she'd drained the body of the man she'd killed of his blood, so that he was no more than an empty husk. She dropped him and dragged herself below the surface, taking her time as her powerful, lethal fins propelled her through the water, sharper than a knife. It was the season for hunting and Ivy bathed in the glory of every second of it.

The currents gently guided Ivy through the water and she kept her eyes ahead as her arms naturally came in front of her, silver scales covering them that reflected the light in a myriad of color. Ivy's thick, black hair trailed behind her as she propelled herself harder, faster-until she was lightning, carving through the water like a scythe. Her eyes were black as her hair, no room for regret or love. Ivy smiled faintly. She was power incarnate.

She swam until she reached the border of a small island she could not be bothered to remember the name of. Rumors had quickly spread of its inhabitants who believed in the sirens and their deadly ways. Ivy scoffed inwardly. They had no idea.

Ivy wondered how they knew of her kind. Someone must've been sloppy enough to be seen while feeding. And then the stories were created and--

It was such a mess. Humans were never to know of the silent existence of the sirens. They were to be kept secret-something that gave them power and the upper hand. Not that Ivy needed any sort of leverage. She was a beast, and a heartless one at that.

Ivy approached the sandy beach and began to sing, her voice alluring and beautifully grotesque. There were no words to her song--just a haunting melody that was impossible to resist. Men crawled to her, and died the moment they looked into her eyes.

It made Ivy positively giddy. She loved the adrenaline that pulsed through her veins, and the sound of the beating human hearts. It was so very lovely when that beating stopped.

She heard the men before they approached, their lumbering footsteps loud enough to make the nearby birds fly away. Their eyes were rolled back in their heads as their bodies took over their willpower. They walked closer and closer, their steps a steady drum. Ivy grinned--a sadistic, wicked thing.

The first man couldn't have been older than twenty and Ivy's eyes flitted to him first. Her smile--if it could even be called that--seemed to grow wider as he involuntarily dropped headfirst in the water, right into Ivy's awaiting arms. He looked into her eyes a second before he did so, his irises coming briefly back down out of his head, his jaw dropping like a fish's, right before his sad little life ended. Ivy took her time feasting upon his flesh, its saccharine flavor filling her with life and strength. She laughed--a wild, unhinged sound--before discarding his body to the ocean itself and starting again.