She kept glancing back. Her eyes were looking sadly at the coast while she swam, barely keeping Alon’s pace. Even if he was hurt, he was swimming fast, away from the beach.

The merman let out a long trembling sigh, finally letting his tail stop in order to hold himself, taking deep breaths.

Just… Deep breaths.

He had survived the storm. He was not pierced lethally by any sharp rocks. There were only a few cuts on him. The human had not stabbed him with harpoons or hooks. He was alive. He was not dead.

I am not dead. Not yet.

The human had seen him. He had been seen. There were humans in this cay.

Soon, they will-

“Alon.”

He flinched, feeling a hand on his shoulder. Iara frowned, seeing him cower for a second. But his eyes focused soon after, looking at her tiredly.

“S-sorry.”

“It’s ok now. You are safe.”

He looked down, his eyes full of fear. She could only sigh, because his voice revealed how shaken he was.

“N-no, we’re not. We have been seen. You have been seen! They-!”

He huffed silently, because Iara turned him around, grabbing his shoulders. She shook him gently to try to make him understand they would be safe.

“Alon calm down. You are alright, you hear me? The human won’t harm you. He won’t harm me. I know how they are; no one will believe him. Even if he had taken a portrait with those things they call phones, none would trust him! T-they have something called… Pho- Photoshopping? I’m sure they-”

“How can you be so sure?!” He held her back, looking straight into her eyes. His tail was swaying fast again. “I may have ruined everything! I always do! I should have not been around you! I-”

She had enough. Alon gasped when her tail moved. It gently but firmly raised onto his mouth, silencing him.

“You dork, listen to me, please.” She pointed back at the coast, now far. “I really don’t think humans will hunt us. If it makes you feel any better, I can prove it to you. But only if you trust me.”

She lowered her tail. But Alon only looked away, doubtful.

“I…”

“You got out of there, did you not?”

He blinked, meeting her eyes. She smiled sadly, seeing him nod tiredly.

Alon trembled when her arms went around him, to hug him. After a few seconds, he buried his face on her shoulder, while she tried to reassure him.

“That human helped you. And I’m going to keep an eye on him, just in case. I promise.”

She held him close and smiled when he nodded wearily, his breathing slowing down. After some minutes, she let go, looking up at him calmly.

“Now, Al… Should we not treat those ugly cuts?”

He looked down at his tail, frowning. He was tired. The wounds were still bleeding slightly, and he was sure his skin was burned.

“Good idea. The last thing I need is to let them get worse.”

The black rocks were humid and not so good-looking. He did not wish to risk an infection.

A smile grew on his lips when Iara grasped his hand, nudging him to follow, in order to seek some herbs.

They both swam slowly, her sways mindful of his exhaustion. But she could only blink, hearing him ask nervously all of a sudden.

“Iara…” She sighed, his voice curious. “What is a phone?”

——————

 

“OK~”

There was a sound, faint. He was resting on top of something hard. Also, there was something wet brushing his cheek.

Matthew groaned, raising his hand to his face. Indeed, he felt a snout there. He was being licked.

The dog whined, pushed away. Matthew shifted, his eyelids moving ever so slightly. A raspy grumble was all she got.

“S-shamira… W-what did I tell you about waking me up early?”

He would have rolled around, grabbed some blankets. But as he moved his hand, he frowned. His fingers only felt a rough surface, humid. There was a ringtone echoing faintly.

“OK, OK, OK, OK~”

His eyes opened. He stayed there, feeling the vibration in his pocket, the sound of his phone muffled. Stare up was all he could do, still groggy. Until he recognized he was resting between sharp rocks, and looking up to the sky.

He instantly sat up, gasping. Still, he hissed, raising his hand to his forehead, feeling a strong migraine.

This… I’m not at home.

“Ok, such a…~”

His eyes narrowed with slight fear, looking around him just as the ringtone ended, leaving him to finally hear the soft waves. And the wind brushing him.

At last, his eyes fixed on the red ahead, the sun setting. He trembled, slowly awakening fully. With fear, for he did not know why he had been laying there.

Why the hell am I-?

A shiver ran down his spine when he lowered his hand to push himself to his feet. He almost slipped on the wet and uneven surface, his mind still foggy. His whole body shook, due to the slight cold of the breeze and the dread.

He laid his gaze on the rocks nearby, his eyes widening slowly. There was red on them.

“N-no.” He slammed his hand onto himself, shaking his head wildly. “Nonono-“

He pushed his jacket back and untied his shirt’s right sleeve to look. A relieved heave escaped him, his teeth clenching. The ugly scars were there, but there was no blood. It caused him to let out a sigh, not understanding why he was not wounded.

He was not bleeding; pretty sure about that.

Matthew brushed his fingers around his body, gulping as he double-checked. He was not finding any cuts. Not a single scratch. He only had a mild headache.

“Why…”

He stood there, holding himself, staring at the rocks, at the sun. The day was ending. He had been lying there for hours.

All he did was question why. He thought he needed to know why. But by staring at the ledge, the sharp rocks, and the conch at his feet… he cursed for trying to find out. His mind remembered what he saw again, when the fogginess faded slightly. Remembering was more frightening than wondering.

“I- I…”

He had seen merfolk.

Matthew looked at his feet. Noting how the rocks were wet, slippery.

Maybe he had tripped and hit his head. Perhaps he had another delusion. He could be crazy; simply put, out of it. It was possible that he took too many painkillers.

But… he could only ponder. He did not understand why he would come here. There was no reason for him to venture to this part of the cay; he hated water, and he was standing above it. The sand was right there, below the edge, the waves near.

He stepped closer to the rocks. As he did, his face lost all trace of emotion, his mind prey of a cold trance. His fingers shook while he reached for the red on them.

His hand moved back, rising to his eye level; he debated silently how the blood tangled on his fingers. It was real, he could feel it. There, not his.

There had been someone there. He lost an arm that night. He felt teeth.

Again, he had seen it today. Two. He felt the soft skin of a sea creature. There was a black tail; a beautiful black tail with white stripes, like the ones of a huge killer whale. As well, the graceful glow of a gray dolphin’s tail, its elegant and slender fins. He felt the hit of that conch; the migraine did not lie.

There was no question; he felt silver and azure eyes, fixed on him. They pierced him while he gazed on their upper halves, looking as human as his.

They were there, he saw and felt it. He could swear on it. But he swore he saw red eyes too, that he felt sharp teeth, and no one listened.

It could not have been a dream. Could it?

He gasped, because something rumbled and cut his thoughts short. Soon, he relaxed and overcame his surprise, realizing it was just his phone, again. He was easy to startle, more now, now that he was deadly afraid, questioning his sanity.

He snarled and brushed away the blood onto the rocks, with little result. Then, he reached for his pocket, taking his phone. A whimper escaped him, seeing it was Ethan. He had more than ten lost calls.

“Shit.”

Matthew gulped, dreading answering. He preferred to let the ringtone end again, not having the will to let out a single word.

He couldn’t speak now. Ethan would question him. So he shook his head and began to type a text message instead, telling him he had fallen asleep, somewhere. He did not mention where exactly.

Once done, he silenced his phone, knowing he would call again; because he was not at his apartment. He was going to get yelled at again. That fact would have stressed him out. But he did not care as much now.

His hazel eyes stared tearfully at the horizon, feeling a noose in his throat. Shamira looked up at him, feeling pure worry as his voice echoed quietly, scared.

“L-lets… Let’s go back, Shamira.” His eyes narrowed sadly, unable to see anything between the glimmering waves, painted with the sunset. “I- I’m tired.”

Shamira’s ears dropped, seeing Matthew begin to walk towards the way back home, slowly.

His eyes were empty, gazing at the water all the way back. Dread was all he felt; he was not ok.