Every day, his feet stepped onto the beach; every morning, even if he did not know why.

There was not a single day in which he missed his daily walk, not one.

He tried not to, but he always ended up halting while he walked along the coast. There was always a splash of water, or a laugh, or something swimming gracefully. And it always picked his attention, instead of making him flee.

There was not a single instance in which he would not stop as Iara neared, called cheerfully. And after those calls… he always answered, even if with different intensities. Every day he noticed less anger in his own voice.

Today, he came back again. He sat slowly in front of the sea. In a matter of minutes, Shamira stopped sniffing the sand, her head rising with a bark. The dog padded towards the water and wagged her tail… because another one eyed her back.

He could only sit cross-legged there, watching calmly as two fins approached the sand. One was gray, another black. The black one sunk, keeping its distance, while azure eyes emerged at the surface.

They were always bright.

He watched there while Shamira jumped and ruffled herself against Iara, the mermaid laughing loudly as she petted the dog. She nuzzled her face against her snout, with a happy smile.

But her azure eyes soon wandered, looking ahead; fixing on him again, when she greeted.

“Good morning, Matthew.”

Matthew looked down for a moment, heart torn. But she smiled, noticing a little smile on his lips, even if apprehensive.

“Hello, Iara.”

He dared say her name, after many days.

Why do I keep on seeing them?

Every day, he could only question every single word, every single thing.

It’s absurd.

It should not be real, yet he still felt like it really was.

Maybe it was. But he would not say so. No one would believe him. Most importantly, he promised he would not tell. He made a vow; even it could have very well been for an illusion.

It did not feel like one anymore. He felt in between reality and dreaming, no in-between. Their sight was like a dream. He could not describe how amazingly strange they were; half-human, half dolphin.

He had zoned out into his own thoughts. That was why he blinked when Iara called again, waving a hand and giving him a look.

“Mattheeeeew, you awake?”

He nodded nervously, frowning.

“Y-yes.” He shrugged, commenting awkwardly. “Just forgot to drink my coffee today.”

He was not a morning person, at all. Never was, even if he now walked early in the mornings, sometimes.

Iara leaned her head with a thoughtful pout, which made him sigh.

“What is coffee?”

She had asked how a phone really worked a few days ago. And if one thing she was, it was stubborn. She wanted to know, and she managed to make him explain.

After the awkward explanation, she even demanded a photo, which made him fear slightly. Because those silver eyes had glared. However, Iara scolded Alon then. The merman was only weary.

The only way in which he reached a compromise was by promising he would delete it. And he did. He had to, and not because the merman was making him fear with his doubtful glares.

He feared all by himself. He shook when he noticed how his phone indeed showed her smiling, right there, a perfect image. It seemed real. Really felt tangible, factual.

Those thoughts kept haunting him. Iara frowned, because Matthew’s eyes suddenly darkened, his head bowing.

He was not answering her question. It took him some time to speak up.

“I’ll tell you what coffee is… only if…” He met her eyes, grimly. “If you tell me another thing.”

She gave him a lean of head, and a curious retort.

“Sure?”

Both merfolk worried. For the dread was clear again in his hazel eyes. The fear that had faded returned. His voice asked quietly.

“Why are you here? Why do you keep on nearing me? And…” His fingers pressured on the sand. “Why did you save me from the rising tides?”

Iara sighed, realizing that he was finally tackling the matter, after all these days of reluctant meetings.

To her surprise, she was not the one to answer, even if her mouth opened slowly to do so. She blinked, hearing a faint splash behind her, and a firm whisper.

“The real question is…” She looked over her shoulder. And there he was, his silver eyes narrowed with sad curiosity. “Why did you help first?”

Matthew had been serious. Yet now, he was slightly cowering under the merman’s gaze, not knowing the answer himself.

“I- I…”

Their gazes told enough, their worried looks confirmed they indeed had dragged him out of his possible watery grave. They were questioning him now with the same perplexity. Both wondered why he had decided to give a hand when they needed it, in danger under the sun.

The pressure of the question was too much. Matthew let out a raspy breath, shaking his head.

“Y-you needed help a-and- I could not just- I mean- I-”

Alon’s eyes softened, seeing Matthew lose his words, gulping as he shrunk on himself. Shamira padded away from Iara with a huff, to nudge the now troubled brunet. She whined worriedly while she nuzzled herself against him.

Simply put, he could not leave them hanging there, no matter how afraid he was. Alon would have died, he was sure of it; a product of his head or not.

Which he could not affirm they were anymore… not when he could hear them. His gaze raised slightly, for the merman’s voice echoed quietly.

“I guess…” Alon crossed his arms, looking down, contemplating. “I owe you my thanks. So… thank you.”

Matthew hugged Shamira, unable to meet azure and silver eyes. But he spoke, even if softly, his mind again full of contradicting thoughts.

“N-no problem.”

He fell silent again, his heart beating fast, still having no clue. All was too real: the voices, the sights, the words.

Iara could see Matthew tremble, his eyes slightly unfocused. So she coughed, trying to avert his thoughts.

“Well…!” Both Alon and Matthew blinked. Because Iara was grinning, leaning again playfully, attempting to change the subject. “Will you tell me what coffee is, Matt?”

Matthew raised an eyebrow at her, baffled by the diminutive.

“…Matt?”

“I call him Al! So I must give you a nickname too!”

She laughed, because Alon blushed and shied away when she looked at him subtly.

Matthew looked at her in question, still not getting her. Neither of them did…

So he only sighed, brushing a finger on the sand. He did not bother arguing with her, knowing it would be in vain.

“Coffee…” He smiled, shoulders shaking with a small quiet laugh. “It’s what I drink to not be a zombie.”

He could only snort when the two merfolk leaned their heads, eyebrows down in confusion.

“Zombie…?”

“I don’t get it.”

Matthew raised his hand, trying to explain.

“Zombie; you know, those dumb monsters in horror movies that-“ He shut up, because their tails waved in confusion, both exchanging a glance. “Never mind.”

Iara did not stop asking questions, which he answered as much as he could.

It was something strange that someone was listening. Someone that maybe should not be there.

They were there. He could see.

But he did not care.

—————-

 

“You seem to be doing better.”

Matthew blinked at that, glancing up. Jason was sorting some books while he looked over the document for his medication. It was an observant comment.

He could only shrug, looking at the paper again, trying to sign the damn thing, the pen slipping sometimes from his left hand.

“Yeah… Guess so.”

Jason looked at him, curious.

“Have the nightmares stopped?”

Matthew smiled sadly, sure that they were not nightmares.

“Yes.”

Maybe they were dreams. Daydreams, which did not mean he was crazy.

They were very much real.

———–

 

Seaweed flowed everywhere.

His sharp tail moved carefully, always knowing to avoid their sharpness; they tangled darkly between the narrow rocks, all around him fissures. The bottom of the sea, huge gaps leading to an endless abyss.

His red eyes trailed every turn, glaring ahead in the thick black. It was a good thing he could see well in it, or he would get lost in this chasm.

As well, it helped that he came here from time to time.

His tail whipped, a snarl escaping him when more seaweed latched around his fin. He kicked it off, rolling his eyes.

It took him an hour. But the waters soon gained a sickly shade, a thick current, in which the seaweed parted a little.

He finally saw it. Below him, there was a huge opening between vegetation and rocky walls. The chasm around him converged there, past a stony arc; a faint reddish glow made it look like a huge open bleeding vein. It led underground, where light never reached. His figure slowly limped towards it, still tired, not having hunted anything.

He did not look forward to the words of mockery. Yet he still slipped past the ruined stony casing. He was careful of not hitting any walls inside, no light but a small glow on them. Every tunnel was small and claustrophobic. Just enough space to swim forward, leaning. It was like if he was diving into the depths of a heart.

After a while, he reached the familiar core of the ruins.

The shark sighed, smiling faintly. There was much more space there. Two openings parted ways ahead; the upper one led out of water, some air trapped in it. The other one led even deeper, through the murky water.

He swam down, his sharp hand snatching a bone from the ground, a few skeletal carcasses lying at the bottom below him.

His fangs bit down onto it, hungry, crushing it easily. The only thing he would eat for now, apart from small fish.

He nagged at it while he ventured towards his home, slowly.

Soon, he reached the huge chamber, it was brighter.

Huge antique pillars rose from the bottom, reaching for the tall walls above. They were black, with small fissures all around; as well, there was a small ancient gallery looming above, the water ending just there, brushing. The eroded pillars almost surfaced close to it, not touching the little air there was.

It would be a sight on its own, if not for what inhabited it all.

He rolled his eyes when a voice mocked him while he made himself comfortable between broken stones.

“Again… failing to hunt the easiest of prey?”

“I had complications.”

Her laugh echoed, amused.

It made the mass of seaweed shudder, a huge sea of them tangling on the black walls. They danced in the stagnant current, drifting around the ruins. They were red, but became blacker the further away they tangled into far tunnels and holes.

The red mass had a core, much like the underground ruins. The weeds sunk near a wall opposite to the tunnel, their red colour as bright as blood there. It all sunk into a figure, which was buried under it all. Her scarred skin was rough and black, covered in florae and vegetation.

Her bloody eyes glinted with hilarity, her figure again leaning outwards between the shadows. One of her sharp claws rose to her fangs, taunting.

“Tried to bite a boat again?”

He glared back at her, able to see her, even if she hid there in the dark, her seaweed glowing slightly.

“More like a damn whale.”

She hummed, leaning her head on her huge claw, resting again onto the wall behind her.

“That would have been a real treat. A shame you are unable to handle the easiest of tasks.”

He growled, but she only laughed when his sharp eyes pierced her. His tail dragged on the ground, his hand slamming the bone down in anger.

“Don’t you laugh at me! I could leave you to rot in here! You are nothing without my aid!”

She did not lose her smile. It was him who shivered when seaweed crawled near his face. Their ends seemed to sharpen, the flowers near her glinting redder, like if they craved blood.

Her voice echoed with a different tone.

“Don’t you forget you need me too, dear. I end everything you are unable to bite down. I could even dispose of your existence, a mere tool.”

He relaxed, because the plants moved away, laying themselves again on the walls. She sighed, faking boredom.

“I just hoped you would lure something already. I’m beginning to tire…”

Her skin creaked, her moves against the wall slow and painful to look at. Her black flesh seemed to be fixed there, blending with it all.

She was really tired of him failing, barely sustaining her. However, her eyes blinked, hearing him curse under his breath, curling angrily.

“I would have brought you the corpse of a dolphin to leech, if not for a damn killer whale jumping on me. I swear I would rip their necks off if I had that strength!”

He blinked slowly, her voice calling.

“Is that why you look so miserable and beaten up?”

She was laughing, and at the same time questioning him. So he looked down, hiding from her gaze slightly behind the ruins.

“I tried to hunt. It did not work out… I swear, I will get even. I will kill-“

“You always resort to such barbaric methods. And you handle defeat in such pathetic fits.”

“Shut up!”

She chuckled again, seeing him slam his fist on a broken pillar. Rage was obvious in his eyes.

“The shark is angry.” Her claw moved slowly, looming over one of her flowers. “A fool, letting himself feel a blind rage. All you can think of is blood.”

He looked back, her voice suddenly suggestive.

“You want to make them pay for that humiliation… But you are only able to think of making them bleed. There are better ways to bring suffering. And death.”

He looked down, something echoing in the thick water near him. A vine of seaweed had moved close, dropping down a small flower at his fins, letting it drift along the ground.

Her voice encouraged the hate in him.

“It would be wiser to…” He smiled, eyes filling with understanding. “Find what can hurt them most. What they wish for. Just think.”

Think he did, his tail shivering with anticipation.

There was a way to reach both their objectives; vengeance for him, and achievement for her.