Chapter 3

The merman’s form is more magnificent and terrifying than I’d ever imagined. His skin shimmers in the lightning’s glare, scales reflecting every flash. He thrashes violently, his eyes wide with fear and fury.

“Stan, wait!” I shout, trying to push forward, but the deck lurches, throwing me back. “We can’t just—”

Stan ignores me, his eyes fixed on the prize. The crew scrambles to secure the net, their faces alight with triumph. The merman’s tail slams against the deck, sending a spray of seawater into the air.

“Secure the net! Don’t let it escape!” Stan roars, his voice barely audible over the cacophony.

The crew wrestles with the net, their movements a desperate dance. I force my way forward, my eyes locked on the merman. There’s intelligence in his gaze, a spark of something that goes beyond mere animal instinct. He’s not just a creature; he’s sentient.

“Stan, please! We can’t do this!” I plead, grabbing his arm.

Stan shakes me off, his face a mask of determination. “We’re making history here, Phoebe. Nothing’s stopping us.”

I turn back to the merman, my heart breaking at the sight of his struggle. He meets my gaze, and for a moment, everything else fades away—the storm, the crew, Stan’s ambition. It’s just us, and the weight of what’s happening crashes down on me.

“Let him go,” I whisper, but my voice is lost in the storm.

Stan’s voice cuts through the chaos. “We’ve got him! Bring him in!”

The crew heaves, the net drawing closer to the boat. I watch, helpless, as the merman’s fight grows weaker, his strength sapped by the relentless storm and the iron grip of the net.

As the merman is hauled aboard, his body slams onto the deck with a sickening thud. The crew cheers, but I can only stare, my heart heavy with dread. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. The merman from my dreams lies before me, captured and broken. What have we done?

I struggle against the sick feeling twisting my stomach as Stan continues to throw around orders.

“Martin, prep the tank! Will, I want you recording all of this!” He turns to point at me, “Phoebe, get the sedative.” I don’t move. “Now!”

My intuition screams that none of this feels right, but I can’t put my finger on exactly why. Or, why, for that matter, I feel so certain that this creature is the most dangerous thing on this ship, more dangerous than any shark we could’ve dredged up…certainly more of a threat than Stan.

The divers struggle to maneuver the merman into the prepared water tank, his tail thrashing with residual strength. The storm’s fury is a distant background noise as I focus on the task at hand. I grab the sedative, my hands shaking as I inject the needle into his tail.

As the needle punctures the scales, he jerks, and one of the barbs lining the ridge of his tale slices into my skin. I wince, then go still as I watch in shock as the tail absorbs my blood, the red liquid vanishing into iridescent red and black scales.

The merman’s eyes lock onto mine, his gaze softening under the influence of the sedative. He moves his tail, attempting to wrap it around me, just like in my dreams. For a moment, I’m transfixed, my breath catching in my throat.

“Phoebe, get back!” Stan’s voice breaks the spell. He yanks me away from the tank, increasing the dose of the sedative. The merman goes limp, his powerful form rendered motionless. An inexplicable sadness and guilt washes over me, mingling with the pain from my cut.

I step closer, observing the merman closely. His long hair, tangled like seaweed, frames a face with handsome, chiseled features. His upper body resembles that of an adult male, muscular and defined.

My eyes trail down to his lower body, the scales gleaming even in the intermittent darkness. There's a distinct bulge beneath the scales that sends a shiver of recognition through me, reminding me far too much of the mingled terror and allure of my dreams.

I grab a flashlight, the beam cutting through the dim light in the lab. When I shine it on the merman, he suddenly stirs. His head lifts, and his eyes snap open. They are pitch black, like twin bottomless abysses. The sheer depth of his gaze instills immediate fear in me. It's a gaze of a predator, instinctive and primal, locking onto me as his prey of choice.

I stumble back, my heart pounding in my chest. The merman's eyes follow my every move, unblinking and intense. There’s no mistaking the intelligence behind them, but it’s an intelligence intertwined with something foreign and dangerous to me, a nature that I can’t even begin to understand.

“Phoebe, step away from the tank,” Stan orders, his tone harsh and unyielding. He’s already turning his back to me, focused on securing the creature. “We need to ensure he’s fully sedated before we can study him.”

I swallow hard, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. This isn’t just a scientific discovery; it’s a living, breathing being with thoughts and emotions. My dreams had always hinted at a connection between us, but now, standing before him, I feel it more intensely than ever.

“Stan, we need to be careful,” I say, my voice trembling. “There’s more to him than you realize...”

Stan shoots me a frustrated look. “We’re scientists, sugar. Our job is to study and understand, not empathize.”

I know he’s right, but it doesn’t ease the turmoil inside me. The merman’s eyes are still fixed on me, a silent warning hidden in their depths. I take a step closer, despite Stan’s demands. There’s something about his gaze, a recognition that tugs at my very soul.

“Phoebe, don’t!” Stan’s voice is sharp, but it’s too late.

The merman’s tail twitches, a small movement that goes unnoticed by the others. But I see it, and I know he’s still aware, still conscious. My heart aches with the knowledge that he’s being held against his will, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’re making a terrible mistake.

As I lean in closer, the merman’s gaze softens again, the predatory edge fading. He blinks slowly, a gesture that feels almost like a silent communication. I place a hand on the glass, my fingers trembling. For a brief moment, I swear he understands. There’s a bond, an unspoken connection that defies explanation.

Stan’s hand lands on my shoulder, pulling me back. “We have work to do, sugar. Don’t let your emotions cloud your judgment.”

I nod reluctantly, but my eyes never leave the merman. As the sedative takes full effect, his endless eyes close, and his body relaxes completely. All at once, the sea falls silent, the storm dissipating.

Around me, the crew cheers, but I can’t shake the feeling that we’ve just made a terrible, terrible mistake.