The Mermaid Prophecy (On Hiatus)

Chapter 9

Arsulu

When I wake, I am swaddled in white fluffy cloth that is much too soft to be any type of clothing from the human world. The soft almost silky texture reminds me of the sand on the ocean floor.

Inhaling deeply, I find a similarly sweet smell as the boy... The boy!

Immediately I sit up throwing the cloth off of me. My arms are covered in white bandages from my shoulders to the tips of my fingers. Based on the amount of effort it takes for me to breathe, I know that my stomach has endured the same treatment.

Confused, I look around and see that the beach is no where to be found. I am in a massive enclosed space now surrounded by four walls and an endless amount of furniture is seems.

I catch my eyes in the mirror across the room and groan. My hair is a brown tangled mess hanging by my ears. My eyes are as red as fire coral and under them are blue-ish purple marks from lack of sleep.

Well, at least I look much worse than I feel.

There is a break in the monotony of the room where I can see the sky. I know from the spectrum of pinks, reds, oranges, yellows, blues and purple that the sun is setting.

I have slept for more than half the day.

A thumping sound across the room jars me out of my day dream. I turn my head in time to see a woman with dark hair pulled back in a bun enter. Her clothing is simple, a white cloth over her red dress.

She bustles into the room then stops, a smile spreading across her face when she sees me.

"My my, so glad to see you awake my dear!" She hurries to my side with more bandages in hand. The smell of rotting flesh wafts with her as she bounces towards me. I back away until my back pushes up against the wall.

She chatters away, much too quickly for me to understand half of what she says. I cover my nose with my bandages hands. No luck, the smell gives me a headache and I fight off the urge to gag. She reaches for my arms and i jerk them away.

"My goodness. Where are my manners! I'm Carlotta, your handmaid dear." She says it so matter-of-factly like all has been explained with that one sentence.

"Handmaid?" I say under a bandaged hand. It is not a term with which I am familiar.

"Yes dearie, I'm here to bring you food until you get better and help you get dressed. Sometimes I even help you with getting washed up. Oh dearie, what ever you need, I'm here for you!" She reaches for my arms again.

I twist further out of her grasp.

"I don't need food. I don't need help. I can take care of myself."

"Oh but dear, it's my job!"

"Thank you. But no thank you." I swing my legs from under the cloth and stand in front of her. Even though her face tells me she is older than me by at least a decade, I match her in height when I stand.

Her face is mortified as if I committed some cardinal sin. "Oh no! Please, you must sit down. You lost quite a bit of blood!"

As if reacting to her words, my stomach protests against the sudden movement. I try to hide my wince but I can see on her face that she sees it.

"Please madam! Sit," she chirps incessantly and tries to shuffle me backwards.

A tapping sound makes both of our heads turn. A deep raspy voice follows. "Carlotta my dear, is everything alright?"

"Yes! Everything is fine here," she calls back but her eyes are wide and wild looking between me and the entrance to the living quarters. Her hands try to contain me to one spot but when she next looks at the exit, I follow her gaze and push past her.

She follows behind me, almost full sprint, to try and catch me. "Please madam!"

Pushing open the door, an older man jumps out of the way and looms in the threshold. A forced smile tugs at his wrinkled lips. His white hair is pulled back artfully at the base of his neck and his clothing is fancier than most that I have seen in the human world.

But no matter how many differences there are, he reminds me of the men that found me in the alleyway earlier. Flashes of the men and what they did.. What they were planning to do, play through my mind.

Ice splinters through my veins, my whole body is frozen. He passes the threshold. I back into the room a few steps at a time before tripping over the long clothing draped over me.

I scream.

And before I realize it, I am throwing the nearest thing I can get my hands on. He ducks, covering his head with his hands for protection. Whatever I threw shatters against the wall.

The boy from the beach runs past the open door, his hair wet and falling into his blue eyes. His white shirt falls open revealing his muscular chest. "What's wrong?"

He examines the room and sees Carlotta with her big dough eyes staring at him, her mouth sets in a thin line. The older man slowly stands up and wipes imaginary dirt off of his clothes. 

"What happened?"

"You," I hiss. His eyes drag over me as if seeing me for the first time. Standing up, I march over to him and smack him across the face.

Everyone freezes. Even me.

I hadn't expected that I would do that. Why did I do that? The boy recovers, looking me straight on. 

"Now we're even."

Both Carlotta and the older gentleman look back and forth between us. Time passes slowly. It seems like I have been watching his face redden for days. Eventually Carlotta breaks the stare down between us and inspects his cheek.

"Oh Eric," she gasps. Eric. His name is Eric.

He waves his hand to stop Carlotta and walks to the miniature table she brought in with her. Lifting a silver dome up, steam caresses his face and again I feel sick. The smell from before permeates the air and I choke on this smell of death.

"It looks like you haven't eaten anything," Eric says. "Aren't you hungry?"

"No."

He closes the dome only to open another one. The smell from this one is less revolting, more sickeningly sweet.

"Come now, our chef makes some of the best food in Denmark. Help yourself." I know that his request isn't really a request, it's a demand.

And it almost amuses me that he thinks he can boss me around.

"Thank you. But I am not hungry." Not entirely a lie.

He eyes me speculatively and puts the second silver dome back down. "You haven't eaten breakfast or lunch. I find it hard to believe that you aren't hungry at all."

I stay silent.

He sighs, "If you keep refusing to eat anything then you will die."

The corners of my mouth twitch. "Well then, I guess I'll die."

Author Note:  Chapter was originally published in October 2019 and revised in November 2019.