by Damion Degen
Lighting crashes around us, the boat thrashing from side to side. My crew scramble like a school of fish on the lower deck, I stand at the wheel using all ofall my strength to keep her steady. Waves smash into the hull, sending sheets of water skidding across all decks. People are shouting, staring at me, waiting for directions. I take a deep breath, recalling what I’ve learnt. My mouth opens, orders sitting on the tip of my tongue, but – a glint in the ocean. Scales catching on the glow from the lightning.
I look back at my crew, but they’ve already dispersed and given themselves jobs to do. I bark my orders, but the sound is lost to the waves.
I can see the edge of the storm, the wall of rain separating us from safety. I grip the wheel tighter, spinning it with all my strength, and the ship lurches forward and through. The waves beneath the ship push us further away, leaving behind us both the storm and whatever was lurking inside it.
My hat sits soggily on my head, I wring it out over the side of the ship. The complaints from my crew drift up to my ears.
The two men stare at me, concern written on their faces. ‘Cap’n,’ one nods before they both turn away. I watch the younger lads start to mop, they swiftly get distracted though and end up playing with the brooms. They laugh, and the air on the ship seems to lighten.
Stars twinkled above us, the moon casting a blue glow across the deck. The sail of my ship danced on the wind, the jolly roger twisting with every step. Loud conversations, banter, and singing faded into the quiet murmur of men settling after a hard day at sea. I nodded as they bid me goodnight and disappeared below deck. Soon it was only my right-hand man and me.
‘The boys’ve been talkin’ ‘bout sirens in these waters, Cap’n.’
‘They’ll say any old bullshit to hide below deck, Ronnie. They’re just tellin’ stories. That’s all.’
He lets out a soft hum, it’s the sound he makes when he wants to argue but knows better than to go through with it.
‘You don’t think they’re real, then?’
I lean on the railing, feeling the boat sway beneath me. ‘Why would I? There’s nothin’ t’all to fear on the water. Nothin’ but an angry Cap’n, that is.’
He leans next to me, his expression shrouded by the night.
‘But remember how Pa—’
My calloused hand makes contact with the side of Ronnie’s face before he can blink. The slap echoes across the empty deck, bouncing off the masts and shooting off across the empty ocean.
Ronnie rubs his cheek. ‘Alright then. G‘night Cap’n,’ he mumbles, slinking off to the ladder and below deck.
‘Sirens…’ I mutter. Merpeople with fangs and claws, preying on weak-hearted sailors and pirates, luring them into the water with a song. Utter bilge.
I stare out at the water and close my eyes, letting the soft song lull me from the anger. The salty air stings my nose, it’s a welcome feeling.
A sigh escapes my lips, my eyelids heavy.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but a quiet operatic melody slowly lulls me awake. A soft song washing over me, seeping into my ears and flooding my skull.
‘Who… who’s there? Ronnie?’ I try to lift my head, to look around, but my bones feel like they’ve doubled in weight. I can’t feel my skin, I can’t smell the ocean, I can’t taste the salt. It’s just singing. It rings out across the waves, bleeding into me. A high flowy melody, slow and meticulous like every individual note is tailored just for me
It’s then I spot it. The body of a woman draped over a rock, her lower half covered by the dark blue depths. Her skin glows bright white in the moonlight, her inky black hair trailing over her chest and falling back behind her shoulders. Her mouth is open as she sings, her eyes staring straight through me.
My mouth opens and shuts uselessly before I can put any sound behind it.
‘Do- do you need help?’
Her melody comes to a soft finish, then she smiles at me. ‘Captain Bowler.’
‘Ah… that was me pa. Jus’ call me Aida.’
‘Short for Aidalyn, like your mother?’
I blink a few times. ‘Aye. How did you know that?’
The woman laughs softly, the sound like a blanket swaddled around my heart. ‘You’re not exactly an unknown figure, Aida. Word travels fast that the eldest Bowler is running her own crew now. Captain Aida of the Fish-lip Pirates. I like it.’
‘Who are you?’ I manage to squeeze the words out my throat.
She holds my gaze with a quiet intensity, the world blurs around me. The only thing I can focus on is the sound of her voice. It sounds like squeezing lemon onto freshly grilled calamari, sprinkling salt, and licking your fingers clean. The sun glaring off the sand making you squint, but nothing could stop the smile on your face. You’re warm on the inside and out, your mother dropping a woven straw hat onto your head and wiping some sauce from your cheek. I play with my brother until the sun starts to set, then we curl up by our ma’s feet while she reads. She tells us that today would be our little secret while Pa was away. We say a little pirate’s oath to seal it. But then once we’re home and tucked in bed, I cover Ronnie’s ears as Pa bursts through the front door. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but it’s angry and cruel. Ma shouts back, shrill and bird-like.
‘How did you—?’ I stare at her.
‘Keep going. Tell me what happened,’ she says softly.
‘Then Pa kicked down the bedroom door. Dragged us up and out the house. Brought us onto his ship. Taught me to be a cap’n, to run a crew o’ me own. ‘Course he wasn’t nice ‘bout it. Then one day he disappeared.’
I lean across the railing, trying to get closer to her. ‘You ain’t very good ‘t answerin’ me questions.’
‘I’m better at listening.’
‘If I tell you more, will you sing for me again?’
She laughs again. ‘Haven’t you figured out what I am?’
‘Aye, I have. I didn’t think your lot were real.’
She hums softly, and my walls crumble even further.
I pull myself up onto the railing, sitting with my legs dangling off the side. I let my coat fall back onto the deck. I know this is bad. I know this is dangerous.
‘So you collect stories?’
‘To sing about them.’
This time I laugh. It sounds unnatural coming from me. ‘You’re givin’ me straight answers now. Cause I’m stuck in your net?’
‘Just keep talking for me, Aida.’
And I do. And I can’t stop. I tell her every single little thing about my life, all my secrets, the names of the pirates I’ve bested. My hopes and dreams, my favourite colours and foods, the hopes and dreams I didn’t know I had. And I know I’m fuelling the fire. The more I talk, the more I can’t stop. Each word I say feels like a blade up the inside of my throat, but it feels good. I know I’m falling deeper and deeper into her trap. And I know this will kill me. And I don’t care.
By the time I’m done, all I can taste is blood in my mouth. Breathing hurts, my throat is dry and hoarse.
‘Do you want the pain to stop, Aida?’
I nod. ‘Will you sing me through it?’
I close my eyes and let the song consume me. The rich, velvety lows thrumming through my stomach, the smooth airy highs inflating my lungs. I lean forwards, my weight pulling me across the edge until warm hands wrap around my ankles and yank me back on board. My eyes fly open as the melody stops
‘Aidalyn!’ Ronnie screams, sobbing into my chest as he holds me down. I stare at him, into his teary green eyes. Shakily, my hand falls on top of his head.
‘I’m sorry ‘bout last night.’ I whisper.
‘Do ya think I still care ‘bout that! I’m not lettin’ you leave me too.’
I let out a soft sigh. ‘I jus’ wanted it to stop.’
‘It never will if you let that fish eat you! You know how much that’d hurt?’
I sniffle a little bit, a laugh burning my throat. ‘So that’s why I made you my right-hand man, huh?’
‘Aye, and you’re not alone. You need someone to listen, I will.’
Ronnie smiles, handing me my long-discarded coat. ‘C’mon Cap’n. We’ve got adventuring to do.’
Author Bio
Hey, I’m Damion! I love writing horror stories and poems. I get inspired by the terror in the every day – the things we choose to ignore. I also like to explore themes of queerness in my poems, drawing on my lived experiences as a gay transman. I believe all art is political, whether you intend it to be or not, and I want to use my writing to push boundaries and challenge social norms.