But that wasn’t important right now. Angie needed to get to Maelstrom and get rid of the two more or less unaffected men.
Suddenly, the crew members started moving again. For a second, Angie feared they had noticed her and would go after her again, but they didn’t. Instead, they were starting to fight over their position at the railing, and Angie realized the song was changing. It became even more desperate and pleading.
Angie hesitated. Roger and Hank were now almost glued to the tank, like the other men, who were close to falling off the yacht.
This was literally the siren’s power as described in fairy tales: making men drown themselves.
All she would have to do is wait. Yet, it felt wrong to do so. If there hadn’t been any survivors of a siren attack, why were there still stories about it?
Had all these survivors been gay? Or female?
Were male siren’s this scarce?
Or were the survivors those who had truly been in love with someone else and been able to withstand the urge to drown themselves in the end?
Angie didn’t want to experience the explanation. She just couldn’t risk it. Instead of walking towards the tank, she headed for the part of the yacht’s railing, where only two men were standing. Silently Angeline reminded herself: These men had killed her friends without any remorse. They had captured and tortured Maelstrom. They would do it again.
They deserved to die. Gruesomely.
And still, a part of her was reluctant to do what she had decided to do. The cruelest thing Angie had ever done in her life was squishing a fly, and now she was about to kill someone. She wouldn’t be the one to actually end a man’s life, but it was equal to shoving someone in front of a bus. In the eyes of the law, this was still murder.
Angeline closed in on her two chosen victims with little steps, almost panicking because of the thought they might notice her if she wasn’t careful enough. Repeatedly, she walked herself through her plan in her mind: shoving the first one with her right and stronger hand and hitting the second one in the back of his head so he would topple over.
Just do it, Angeline.
She wouldn’t be the same after that.
Angie knew this as she lifted the bolt cutter with her weaker left hand, hesitantly putting forth her right hand. A lump was building in her throat, and she didn’t even dare to try and swallow it down. Her pulse was racing in her head, almost drowning out the siren’s plea to come and join them in the sea.
They would kill her without thinking twice. They would rape her, kill her after that, and then throw her overboard. Angeline could clearly recall the image of how they kicked her friends’ dead bodies from the pier. This was almost the same.
Suddenly, the man in front of her went overboard. Angie had no idea if she had touched him, or if he had jumped himself. Quickly, both her hands gripped the bolt cutter, but before she could hit the second man, he jumped, too. Panicking, Angeline reached for the railing to steady herself, fighting off the urge to throw up. There was no time. With a heart hurting in her chest from beating wildly, she stepped back and looked at the where the other men had been standing. They were going overboard on their own. All, but one. Angie didn’t think, didn’t hesitate, didn’t wonder why that man didn’t jump. She started running with her bare feet and used her momentum to swing the bolt cutter and hit him over the head.
The resistance of his head was weaker than Angie anticipated and almost made her fly over the railing as well. It was only thanks to her being shorter in height, that her back collided with the railing, catching her rather than her going overboard.
The sudden pain in her back made her lose her grip on the bolt cutter. All she could do was watch it go flying up in the air. Her feet were kicking under her body, fighting to get her to stand up so she could reach out for the tool, while she already saw it go flying into the water.
Angeline somehow got herself to stand and leaped for the bolt cutter as it flew over her head. Her fingertips all but grazed the grip. Still, she fought to save it and turned around, bending over the railing as far as she could, but the tool was out of reach. The bold cutter was swallowed by the waves surrounding the yacht. The waves had an eerie color in the moonlight.
It was only then, as Angeline bent over the rail, staring down at the sea that she heard the gargling screams and piercing shrieks beneath her. Merely a moment later, she realized that it wasn’t all waves and black down below, but extremities still attached but about to be ripped off, slashed throats and chests, faces cut so deeply by sharp claws she could see the white bone beneath the flesh.
The water beneath her wasn’t black in the moon’s glow, it was a deep, saturated red, she could only see when the light hit it right.
The siren’s song had been replaced by the screams of men being massacred. They deserved it, but Angie knew what she saw would haunt her dreams, as she struggled to stay on board, kicking her legs so her body’s weight would tilt her backward before she clutched the railing with both of her hands.
Her head was still facing down, watching how the men’s remains were being consumed by shadows of silver and grey.
Suddenly, something came shooting out of the water, coming straight at her. The shocked surprise giving her enough power to finally push her backward. It was not even an inch between her face and the siren’s claw, which had come straight at her. The screech breaking from the mermaid’s throat was far from enchanting but shook Angie right to her bones. Once more the siren shot out of the water, using her momentum to try and strike her with her clawed hands, but Angeline was now out of reach.
The sheer hate on the painfully beautiful female face hurt Angie even more than it terrified her. She wasn’t the siren’s enemy. She had helped Maelstrom to tell them where he was. It was this letdown that distracted her long enough to not see it coming.
The roar would have been a warning if it had come earlier, but Angie didn’t get the chance to turn around and meet her attacker face to face. Instead, her lower legs were grabbed, lifted, and thrown over the railing.
Angie’s hands panged from clinging to the rail as her feet clashed with the outside of the yacht. She mustered all her strength to try and not only hold tight and lift herself up again, as she faced the man, who was trying to kill her.
Roger! Why is he doing this?
He had made sure she was unharmed in the time before, why now kill her?
“He’s mine!” The bear-like man answered as if he had heard her question, and grimly worked on prying her fingers loose, one by one.
This, however, was the least of Angie’s problems, because now her legs were within perfect reach of the siren who had been trying to get her. Terrified, Angeline struggled to get a grip with her bare feet on the yacht’s outside, allowing Roger to fight with her left hand, so she would get the chance and somehow, hopefully, if fate would allow it, to get back on the deck.
Angie knew it was hopeless. She knew she would die. Roger would tear her loose and toss her into the ocean where the sirens would rip her to shreds. It was ridiculous to even try, but she had to.
Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she desperately clung for her life, ignoring the pain as Roger almost broke every single one of her fingers, trying to loosen them, but she held on. And then, the sound she was terrified to hear, reached her ears from below.
Angeline expected the siren to break through the water one more time, as she now was in perfect reach. Although there were still a few final screams of the men dying beneath her and the wild sloshing of water, when it happened, it sounded like an explosion to her ears. The brutal yank on her body, which threatened to dislocate both of her shoulders, made Angie almost lose her grip on the railing. A piercing pain shot through both of her sides, as the mermaid's claws cut through her flesh. At least Roger stopped working on Angie’s fingers as he faced the lethal beauty, who would pull Angeline to her death.
Suddenly, she perceived the most beautiful sound she had ever heard in her life. It felt like
truly seeing the beauty of all end everything around her. The pain coursing through her body was replaced with rapture, and Angie felt the desperate need to find the source of this angelic song.
She knew it was Maelstrom. It was the same voice he had spoken within her head. Angeline just hadn’t understood the heartbreaking beauty of it until now.
Roger stopped moving altogether, completely lost in the song he heard. Slowly he turned so he would face Maelstrom when Angie couldn’t.
Sudden rage scorched through her veins. Roger was unworthy of hearing the male siren’s voice, and he would die for it.
Angie mustered all her strength, she felt certain about being able to pull herself up onto the deck, but she couldn’t.
A strange noise reached her ear from below, and another pull on her body followed. It wasn’t strong enough for Angeline to lose her grip on the railing, but it wasn’t meant like that. More pleasure ran through Angie’s body as more pinches pierced her skin, shaking her. Something was crawling and slithering up her back, using her as some sort of climbing rope.
It was when Maelstrom’s enchanting song ended that Angie truly felt the pain the mermaid was causing by digging her claws into her body. Roger then realized he had turned his back on Angeline, who he wanted to kill. The only problem as he turned around, was that he was facing a fully-grown siren in the flesh, which was now sitting on Angie’s shoulders.
The siren bared her sharp, pointed teeth at him before she shot forward to dig her fangs into his throat, throwing her arms around his shoulders, holding him captive in an iron embrace. Throwing herself backward, the siren took Roger with her into the endless depths of the ocean. His scream was drowned by his own blood.
As the bear-like man was being taken overboard, Angie felt a heavy weight falling from her shoulders, but only for a split second.
Just when Angeline, felt a wave of relief and she dared to hope again, the heavy heel of Roger’s boot crashed into her face. She was instantly dazed. It was long enough to lose her grip on the railing. And even as panic brought back consciousness to her senses, making her reach out for the rail again, Angeline was already halfway down into the water.
The pain of colliding with the ocean was nothing compared with the piercing claws of the sirens. Its embrace was cold, dark and ultimate.
This is it, Angeline just knew.
She could sense the additional movement around her, as the sirens circled around her like predators closing in on their prey. Angie was already bleeding from the claw’s cuts, but they weren’t deep enough to make her bleed to death.
No calm or merciful death was waiting for her. She hadn’t lived her life, wasn’t surrounded by a loving family and wouldn’t fall into a deep slumber to be whisked away in her sleep.
Angeline hadn’t even been able to free Maelstrom. He was still onboard, chained to a heavy boulder in a tank, and alone with Hank. Hank who had heard his song, too. With luck, he had thrown himself into the tank and was either dead now or enchanted by the merman’s kiss, to do as Maelstrom commanded.
Maybe the male siren would still be free.
Angie knew fighting would only prolong the pain. So, she waited, sinking deeper into the depths of the ocean, wondering why the sirens weren’t attacking and feasting on her.
Maybe, female flesh isn’t tasteful to them, so she thought, focusing her eyes on the yacht’s silhouette in the moonlight. Maybe they don’t attack mr because I don’t fight to survive, or they are already sated by all the flesh they consumed. Maybe me drowning is enough for them.
Angeline’s heart jumped painfully in her chest, as suddenly the sirens shot towards her. She closed her eyes, pleading it would be quick, and the shock of her body being dismembered would be strong enough to instantly kill her.
Angie was surprised the pull on her body wasn’t painful at all and only the sloshing in her ears was just a bit uncomfortable. But she only truly understood what was happening as she broke through the surface of the sea and she flew through the air.
Her feet got stuck on the railing, somersaulting Angeline halfway before she crashed on the deck of the yacht, face first.
Cut and bruised, the side of Angie’s head hurt the worst. She didn’t understand the situation at first.
Why was she still alive?
Why was she onboard the yacht again?
Why had the sirens not killed her?
Hank was still there.
Angeline knew she needed to get back up.
Hank wouldn’t let Maelstrom go. He wouldn’t let her free him. If Roger had already told her the male siren was his, Hank would think so as well. Especially, after hearing Maelstrom’s song.
Angie struggled to get back on her feet. Her body was hurting, especially her fingers.
Although Hank wasn’t as bulky as Roger, he most definitely would be stronger than her. Plus, Angie was still bleeding from various cuts.
As she managed to lift herself onto her knees, she could see Hank was still mesmerized by Maelstrom. The man’s hands were placed against the glass, and his attention was glued to the male siren inside.
Why hadn’t he thrown himself into the water already? Was it because he was truly in love with Roger, who had just found his untimely and brutal death in the arms of several mermaids?
8 – Turning Tides
If Hank hadn’t noticed her, Angeline would use this to her advantage and not simply attack him hot-headed and without a plan. Instead, she crawled back to the cabin on all fours, trying to ignore the pain in her sides.
She still tried to understand why the sirens hadn’t killed her but thrown her back on deck. Somehow, they must have realized she was an ally and not an enemy. But how? The siren who had pulled Roger to his death had stared at her with pure hate. Why had she changed her mind after that?
Maybe it had been something in Angeline’s blood which had pooled into the seawater around her. She had swallowed a little bit of Maelstrom’s blood when she carried it in her mouth to spit it out in the ocean. Or was there something else in her blood?
Right then Angeline reached the door to the cabin, where she had hidden the disposable scalpel. If she got close enough to Hank, she would be able to kill him.
Hoping, he had still not noticed her, Angeline used her foot to close the door as soon as she was inside the cabin. Quickly, she got onto her feet and went for the bunk at the end of the hall where she had slept the last few days. The scalpel was still where she had left it.
Too much had happened. No one had been here after Angie had left. Now, it was only Hank and her left. As she returned to the kitchen, Angie hesitated as her glance landed on the table where Hank had left the bolt cutter. It had been so stupid of him to put the tool there for her to see, stupid enough for it to be pure coincidence? Or had it been on purpose?
Did his intention still matter? For all Angie knew the one he had been involved with, maybe had been in love with, was already dead.
In the end, Hank was part of the crew which had killed her friends. They had done so professionally as if it hadn’t been their first-time killing people. The way they had treated Maelstrom and used her. Was there really redemption for a man like Hank? Was giving her a weapon or tool enough to weigh against all the times he had done nothing?
Angie pulled off the lid of the disposable scalpel and tightened her grasp around the grip. Even if he had intentionally helped her, if Hank stood in her way of freeing Maelstrom, he would be disposable, too.
With several deep cuts still hurting, blood trickling down her sides and on her back, Angeline continued to walk to the door and carefully pushed it open, enough for her to see through but not be revealed.
Hank wasn’t standing where she had seen him the last time. Where had he gone?
The sirens had stopped singing as soon as all the men, but Roger and Hank had thrown themselves over the rails. Probably because they had been too busy with their feasting on human flesh. And now silence had spread. The only noise was the waves breaking ag
ainst the yacht.
Did Hank know what had happened to Roger?
Did the sirens leave?
Worriedly, Angeline stared at the tank, hoping to see Maelstrom was still there. But in the darkness of the night which had fallen, she could not see much. Not even though the moon was almost full.
Carefully, Angie opened the door further, so she would be able to search the deck for any other living being other than her and Hank.
Still, she couldn’t help but ask herself why he had moved, and why Maelstrom’s voice hadn’t affected him as much as it had Roger or her. Angeline’s need to get to Maelstrom as fast as possible was just like a drug slumbering in her veins, waiting to fully take control over her body.
Quickly, Angie hid the scalpel in the palm of her hand and pushed the door open, carefully, searching the deck for Hank. She would have to get rid of him first before looking for the key which would open the chain that held Maelstrom captive.
Slowly, with the cabin’s wall to her back, Angeline moved onward, all the while searching the moon-lit yacht for the last remaining crew member.
Where was that shark-faced man?
A part of her desperately demanded she go to the tank right away, to see if Hank was inside and if Maelstrom was okay.
But what if Roger’s lover used her worry against her?
What if he was hiding somewhere waiting for her to make a mistake?
Angie forced herself to breathe more evenly, so her pulse wouldn’t race as rapidly and would stop deafening her hearing. She needed all her senses to find that man. If he wasn’t already dead.
But then, what if she lured Hank to his death? Angie could simply stand there in front of the tank and wait for Hank to come and get her. After all, Maelstrom had been able to grab her and pull her into the tank the first time they had met. Hank couldn’t be that much heavier. But then again, Shark-face knew what Maelstrom was capable of, didn’t he?
Angie didn’t know Hank well enough to anticipate his actions. She had no idea if he was a guy who would rather hide and react, or one who would look for her right away. But the first place for him to search would have been the cabin, right? Did he already check it? Or did he believe, she was dead, too?
Ocean's Captive Page 8
