A Whole Bunch of Loki's

The Siren's Call - MerLoki - Part Three

I barely got back to sleep that night and what little sleep I did get was fretful and unsatisfying, but thankfully not deep enough to continue the strange dream I had before.

By the time it hit 7am, I knew that anymore attempts at sleep would prove futile and so I decided to get up and get an early start on my planned trip to the beach.

My mind was trying to conjure up a way in which my visit to the sea will settle the disturbance of my dream, a peculiar thought as I wasn't usually this hung up on one single dream.

I had a few that I remembered bits and pieces of, but none had ever hit me so hard that it lingered and felt so real that I could still remember the touch from the stranger's hands over my altered body.

The lingering feeling was distinctly disturbing and I wished that it was one of those sensations that faded merely minutes after waking up, but of course this had to be the one that stuck with me.

"There's nothing for it," I mumbled to myself.

Hastily throwing the covers away, I get up and quickly prepare for a day out on the beach.

Dumping the contents out of my bag from the day before onto the bed, I shove in clothes, a towel, some lotion and my purse into the bag and then throw it over my shoulder.

I'd buy food on my way to the beach and didn't bother to wash my hair, knowing that it was just going to get wet in the sea anyway, though I did quickly throw my shampoo on top of the towel so I'd have something to help soothe the tangles in the outside shower when I was done.

After a quick scan of the room to make sure I had everything, I pulled on a loose set of clothes over my swimsuit and wiggled my feet into my black flat shoes.

Seizing the bag, I threw it over my shoulder and left the room, locking it behind me and then hastily head off to the beach.

By the time I reached the beach there were a few people walking about, more than likely holiday makers who wanted to make the best of their too-short stay before it was time to head home and start the old grind once again.

There were a few dog walkers about or people on their way to work, but for the most part I could hear the calming sound of waves crashing against the shore.

I took off my flats and walked down the chilled slope, stopping just before concrete met sand to stare towards the ocean.

It wasn't as intimidating as I had expected it to be, the terrible fluttering feeling in my stomach that had occurred on my way down each time I thought of the vast depths of water dampened down as I watched the waves come and go.

"I'm such an idiot," I laughed to myself, finally stepping onto the sand and finding somewhere that suited me to settle.

I managed to find a secluded area, at least for the time being, that gave me peace away from the few other stragglers on the beach and I set up my towel and bits on the floor.

For about an hour I stayed sat on my towel, alternating between people watching, staring out into the sea or reading the final book in the series I was working through.

I'd read about five chapters before the itch was unignorable and I had to set my book down to concentrate on the sea.

Once again, as with the last time I was on the shore, there seemed to be something calling out and beckoning me to it.

Taking a glance around I notice that no one else seems to notice as they continue with whatever fun making task they were doing before, either none the wiser or willingly ignoring the sounds coming from the depths.

Heeding the call, I stand up and finally make my way to the water's edge, the sudden lapping of cold liquid sending a shiver down my spine and I wait a moment to adjust before slowly wading in further, taking my time so the rest of my body can get used to the sudden change in temperature.

I dipped about for a bit until I felt more comfortable in the water once again, after such a long break of not swimming it felt foreign to be chest deep in the sea.

For a moment, I forgot out queasy the rocking of the waves made me when I stayed still and I had to move in order to stop my head from spinning and my eyes from feeling disorientated.

Moving seemed to help, so I focused my energy on swimming about and getting adjusted to swimming in an unstable environment.

I wasn't sure how long I had been swimming, though I hadn't gotten very far, when I felt a pull that was familiar from the other day, as if something was lulling me deeper and deeper into the ocean.

My rationale told me that it was stupid to follow, but my instinct was telling me that it was the right thing to do.

It seemed almost beyond my control as I found myself swimming further out into the sea, beyond the point where my feet could reach the bottom and further than any self-respecting lifeguard would recommend.

I was quite impressed that I'd managed to make it this far, considering that I wasn't the strongest swimmer and I have a large aversion to getting water in my eyes.

When I was younger I'd do anything to avoid the chances and yet here I was, swimming further from the shore as if it was nothing and the water stood no chance of splashing into my face.

There was no denying that the further I went, the stronger the call got and the harder it was to ignore.

I venture out like it was nothing.

Not looking back to see how far the shore was.

Not paying attention to the yells from the sand that seemed to slowly be getting drowned out by this sound, which began to sound like a hauntingly melodious voice beckoning me.

I was beyond the point of no return and I didn't want to be.

Not even when the horrid salt water entered my mouth and throat, causing me to splutter.

Not even when my arms and legs grew weaker as the waves got stronger.

Not even when I was dragged underwater and my body had no energy to fight or to stay awake and allowed my vision to be overtaken by darkness.