Page 84 of The Noble's Merman

Mo was singing.

Why?

With every terrible thing that was happening, Kent could barely comprehend his surroundings. His head felt heavy, his mind spinning, his knees feeling weak. It was as if he were drunk, yet he hadn’t had a drop of rum. No, this feeling was more intense than merely being in his cups.

It was as if he were paralyzed.

In an instant, Young and the other two pirates unhanded him, leaving him standing on his own. He couldn’t fathom why, as his thoughts were in a haze, and even stranger still was that he could barely even move. Every time he tried so much as to lift an arm, it fell back down to his side. But he was thankful, so, so very thankful, the pirates finally let go of him and stopped their excruciating abuse.

Suddenly, the pirates surrounding him collapsed to the floor. Kent could barely hold his own weight anymore as well. His knees shook even more, buckling, and gave out as he fell like a ragdoll. Somehow, with whatever strength he had within himself, beit the strange magic he felt in his chest or simply sheer willpower, he still sat upright. With his good eye, he witnessed the bizarre scene that began unfolding in front of him.

It wasn’t only Young and the couple others—everyone halted, stopping their actions in midair. A few fell, though others stayed standing. During this all, Mo never stopped singing. What was he singing? Why? It was a song with no words, only oo’s and ahh’s, yet Kent had never heard a voice more beautiful in all his life. Even when Mo sang before, it was not nearly as gorgeous as what he was hearing right now.

But… how?

How was the sky suddenly so dark?

How was the wind against his skin so cold?

Movement to Kent’s right made him turn his head (at least he had enough strength to do that). Allen shrugged away the two pirates who had a hold on him, shaking them off as if they were nothing but loose paper. Allen wasn’t joking when he’d said Kent hadn’t seen him get out of sticky situations before—with expert ease, the redhead found a loose cutlass from one of the fallen pirates on the floor, grabbed the hilt with his feet, held it with his heels and positioned the blade pointing upwards, behind his back. Kent stared in awe as Allen cut the rope tying his wrists, freeing himself, and then moved onward to untie Seth.

How the hell was Allen able to move, yet he himself could not?

Thunder clanged overhead.

He felt wetness on his cheeks—no, that wasn’t only from his tears. Rain began to pelt down, covering the deck in a hazy mist. How did the weather change so drastically from sunny skies not even twenty minutes ago?

As Mo’s song continued, hitting a beautiful falsetto, some of the pirates started to stir. Kent’s breath hastened and his heartbeat clogged his throat. Was whatever paralyzing magic that had settled upon them begun to wane? No, that wasn’t the case. Kent still couldn’t move. But as one pirate further back reached for his belt and grabbed his cutlass, holding it out and ready to swing, Kent nearly choked as he watched in fear?—

The man stabbed the pirate next to himself. His blade went straight through the nameless man’s chest, dripping blood out on the other side.

Kent wanted to scream.

Yet no sound came out at all.

What the hell is going on?

Lightning shot in the distance, and thunder soon followed.

Next thing he knew, he saw Allen next to Mo, untying him from the mast. It devolved from there, and Kent witnessed more carnage than he’d ever seen before in his life. More pirates started attacking each other, swinging their swords, cutting flesh, tearing limbs. Not only that, a few even attacked the ship itself, stabbing their blades into the flooring, which puzzled Kent’s pounding head even more.

Allen groaned after finishing with the ropes, slapping his hand onto the side of his neck, gripping it as if he were in pain. Kent couldn’t even fathom why that might be when, finally freed, Mo hurriedly crawled his way toward him. Each thump of his arms on the wooden floor created ripples in Kent’s chest.

As Mo grew closer, pausing his singing, Young suddenly stirred. He tried to stand up, tried to fend off the merman when?—

Mo grabbed Young by the shoulders and sunk his fangs deep into the pirate’s neck.

Kent couldn’t believe what was happening. His vision was darkening, body swaying, head heavy, and he knew he couldn’t hold himself in a sitting position for much longer. But with everything around him so overwhelming, he thought it must be a dream. An awful, terrible dream. Using his teeth, Mo ripped Young’s flesh from his bones like a feral animal right in front of Kent’s eyes, then moved on to the other two who violated him, tearing their skin with his claws, spilling thick red blood, mixing with the rainwater.

But despite the horrific, gorey wreckage in front of himself, despite blood splattering onto his own white shirt, Kent felt a wave of relief soothe his entire body. His atrocious tormentors were finally dead.

However, his limbs became so relaxed, he couldn’t hold his own weight any more. But before he collapsed to the floor—caring arms grabbed him, holding him steady in a tender embrace. Kent looked up, and gazing right at him were the ocean-blue eyes he’d committed to memory.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” said Mo, blood spilling from his lips. “I had no other choice. I had to stop them. I couldn’t forgive what they were doing to you.”

Kent closed his eyes, and he felt Mo press a kiss to his temple.

“I love you more than anything, my dear Kent.”

---