Page 1 of A Song of Death and Desire

Chapter 1

Asiren's song is a curse. A curse of madness, desire, and death.

The whirring sound of a fishing boat catches my attention as it speeds through the ocean close to where I wait. Anticipation buzzes beneath my skin and I recognize the same emotion in my sisters who swim nearby. We are hungry and lethargic. Exhausted and slow. The excitement of the hunt is the only thing that spurs us on.

This boat sounds a little larger than our usual discoveries. I estimate there are maybe half a dozen people on board. This is enough to satisfy many of us for a long time, but we will have to prioritize who gets to feed first. It’s rare that we find such a big collection, so we are lucky today.

Over the years, the number of boats that venture into Witches Cove have dwindled and when they do, many don’t return tothe docks, the humans never seen again. It has created fear and suspicion among humans, but we need to feed, and this is the only way we know how. We are lucky we have evolved over the years so that we no longer require souls as frequently as we once did. The consumption of a soul will keep us alive for about a year if we are lucky. If we still had to have souls as often as our ancestors, we would have become extinct long ago. There is just no way to take that many humans without alerting the wider world to our existence.

My sisters look to me to take point on this hunt and I look around at each of them, taking note of their appearance and need for food.

Although they aren’t my sisters biologically, the bonds of sirens within a group are as strong as those forged by blood. We have many similarities in our appearances; the blue-gray pallor of our skin, our shimmering silver scaled tails, our webbed fingers with taloned nails and our sharp pointed teeth. Despite some human characteristics, anyone could tell that we are not human. The thirst for blood is evident in the eyes of my sisters and it shows our predatory nature.

I feel the slightest hum of excitement, but I don’t thrive off the hunt the way my sisters do. Mixed with the excitement is a twinge of discomfort. I enjoy the feeling of my hunger being satisfied but I can’t help the way that my mind drifts to the humans we hunt and the ache of sympathy that exists when it shouldn’t. Before the feeling overwhelms me, I allow myself to give into my instincts that pull me to attack and devour. My senses focus solely on my prey and everything else ceases to exist as their souls draw me in.

We are not far from the jagged cliffs and rocks jutting out of the ocean, the very formations that have taken the lives of many fishermen who rove the dangerous waters. Together we begin to swim closer, our powerful tails almost blending in withthe ocean surrounding us. My long, auburn hair whirls around me and my tail cuts through the water swiftly, my lithe body allowing me to glide through with ease. The sun warms the water to a comfortable temperature and I long to be above it so that I can feel the rays on my skin.

Everything around us is quiet, the ocean devoid of other life. The creatures of the sea tend to make themselves scarce when we hunt. They sense our hunger and although there are many forms of sea life we don’t consume, they all prefer to disappear in case we change our minds. They have also learnt that we don’t waste our food. There really isn’t much point for creatures like sharks to hang around hoping for a bite. We aren’t the sharing kind.

We reach the part of the cove where the sharp rocks begin to protrude from the water. This is where we will lead the boat for maximum damage. An unfortunate accident, humans will say. They got too close to the rocks. Goddess, it feels like it’s been a long time since we have fed. We are ravenous and I know that this hunt will be messy as we all seek our fill.

In the distance, the boat drives closer to where we lie in wait, resting just below the surface. Our heightened senses allow us to keep track of the boat. From the direction the boat is heading, it looks like they are on their way back to town. They are much closer to the cliffs than they expected; the strong tides and relentless waves that are typical for Witches Cove have pushed them off their course. And right into ours.

When they are close enough, I raise my head above the surface of the water. From this distance I can see the six humans on board. I gaze at them in curiosity and dread, knowing that they are taking their final breaths. Thoughts come unbidden about these men and I wonder about what kind of people they are. What are their lives like? Will there be anyone left behind tomourn their loss? I push the thoughts away and begin to sing. A melody pours out of me.

Beautiful.

Deadly.

In moments, my sisters join me, our voices intertwining together in perfect harmony. A song of desire, peace, and relaxation. Of hunger, seduction and destruction. Designed to entrance the humans we crave. It’s our curse.

And theirs.

We watch with barely concealed eagerness as the boat comes to a halt. The wind whips my hair around me in a maelstrom of chaos, strong enough to lift the wet, heavy strands. The waves are large and violent. Sometimes we can bob with them and others we have to dive down and through. This cuts off our song briefly, but we have positioned ourselves so that there is always someone singing at any given time.

We can’t allow a big enough break in our song for a human to escape. Our song is our most deadly weapon, although our long claws and sharp, pointed teeth can cause a hell of a lot of damage on their own. The siren song helps us to ensnare our prey. We are a danger to humans only when we are in the water. So, we have to lure them here first. And trap them so they can’t escape. Like a fly caught in a spider’s silky web. No way out.

So, we sing.

The boat begins moving again, faster this time and moving directly towards the rocks. The humans on board are eerily silent. Under our spell. Unable to make any move to turn the boat around, to avoid the dangers lurking above and below the water. Although the sight of entranced humans, frozen and mentally absent is one that is all too familiar, I can’t shake the feeling of unease. The growing feelings of sympathy and guilt continue to worm their way inside of me as I watch humans move rapidly towards their end.

But we continue to sing.

My sisters look on with excitement and anticipation as the boat hits the first large rock protruding from the ocean a couple of miles from shore.

And we sing.

Our haunting melody weaves a spell around the humans, so they are no longer conscious of anything but our song. It fills their ears, their minds, and their souls. Nothing exists to them other than the melody and the ones who sing it. It builds a madness; a desire so strong that they have no choice but to throw themselves into the ocean to find the source of their obsession.

The impact of the boat hitting rock is hard and catastrophic. A large section of the bottom of the boat is punctured by the jagged rocks and as the boat continues to move despite the damage a large hole forms. It starts to take on water rapidly but although their boat is sinking, the people on board are silent. We wait as the boat continues forward, pushed by the waves, hitting rock after rock. Crashes ring through the air of the boat being torn apart but there are no screams. If anyone were watching they would be confused to see the six humans standing aboard their sinking boat, their vacant eyes staring out to sea and no action to get themselves to safety. They wait as the destruction unfolds around them.

The first body hits the water, thrown overboard by the lurching impact. The excited squeals of my sisters echo around me as they race to consume the first man, their singing momentarily paused. They swim at a pace so fast that the man's body barely begins to sink before they are on him. I follow them, swimming slowly, waiting back. They tear at the man's clothing and claw at his skin, each eager to satisfy their hunger for flesh and desire for his soul. It's a frenzy. The man, brought back to consciousness and awareness when our bewitching song ceasesfor a moment, begins to thrash as he finds himself submerged, lungs filling with water. Bubbles leave his mouth as he silently screams, and his eyes, wide and panicked, take in my sisters who surround him. He realizes that he is trapped, and that death is imminent.

My best friend, Raidne, begins her song anew, and the man goes limp in her arms. Her caramel brown eyes, usually filled with warmth, are fixed on him with predatory focus. The slitted pupils of her eyes and the inhuman shade of her skin alerting him to the fact that he will not be rescued. He’s in a nightmare.We’re the nightmare.

Raidne is not usually the first to throw herself into a hunt, preferring to wait back. The fact that she is first today indicates that she’s starving. I observe the glances shared between my sisters and their disgruntled expressions when Raidne claims the first human. Jealousy. It’s an impossible emotion to prevent when every member of our group is a threat to our survival. The more sirens, the less likely we are to find enough souls to go around.

As Raidne sings, the fear fades from the mans eyes and is replaced with longing. Her song changes from one meant to instill lust and desire to one that displays a dark hunger. In seconds, he is dead, Raidne having pulled his soul from his body and consumed it herself. Her song, the one we use to transfer a soul from the body of a human to our own, comes to a close.

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