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It was storming and there was a boat on the water. A small thing, too far from the port to be comfortable in this weather. The closest land was a small island, though it was surrounded on most sides by rocky cliff faces that hid underwater caves. It was popular with scuba divers, and there were rumors of a rather extensive air pocket if you went deep enough, but no one had ever managed to confirm them.
Parker Jones knew it was a bad idea to come out to the island today. But the stormy clouds were calling to him, just begging to be painted, and his favorite place to draw was a comfy perch on the cliffs over the island. He had figured he would get to the island, take some pictures as a reference, and maybe get started sketching, then get back to the mainland before the first drop of water even fell from the sky.
He hadn’t expected the storm to roll in so fast, and it was all he could do not to panic. He had made sure his life jacket was secure, and he clung to the sides of his boat like his life depended on it, which, as far as he was concerned, it very well did. He was so focused on staying in the rocking boat, and taking calm, even breathes, he didn’t even notice that he was being watched from beneath the waves.
Owen Wright had been in the drowning wayward tourist business for a long time. Most merfolk hated to live up to the stereotype, preferring to stay in the deep ocean, far from human settlements, only occasionally luring human sailors to their doom whenever they got too close to their territory, but Owen was different.
Like another contemporary red-headed merperson, Owen had an obsession with all things human. However, rather than satiating his obsession with discarded human artefacts, Owen preferred to fully embrace the stereotype of his species. He found joy in watching the terror in human’s eyes as their last breaths escaped them. Occasionally, if he was in a really good mood, he would share his own air with his victim, laying a kiss of life to their lips, watching the hope return, only for it to be gone again just as quickly.
The best part of drowning humans, however, was the easy meal. Merfolk were carnivores, and while most were satisfied with fish and the occasional shark, mammalian meat was still considered a delicacy. Seafaring mammals were decent, however the best ones were always the land dwellers. That was part of the reason Owen had left his pod behind- he had tasted a drowning sailor and was instantly addicted.
Tourists were easy, because they were unfamiliar with the area they were more likely to get lost, more easily lured to the cliffs by his song. Locals were a bit harder to ensnare. They weren’t as easily lost and caught off guard, and they usually knew what they were doing. Besides that, he knew if he caught too many of them, it would cause a panic, putting him in danger. No one cared about the occasional disappeared tourist, because it was harder to quantify them. The locals, however, were easily accounted for. He always considered it a personal achievement when he managed to drown one of them. And today seemed to be his lucky day.
He had smelt the storm coming from miles away. It was a big one, he knew, and he didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to be out on the water today. But he thought wrong. Not too far from the watery caves where he made his home, there was a tiny boat out on the water, just barely managing to stay afloat. He knew this boat very well, as the kid who rode in it always came out to the island to paint. That must have been what he was intending to do today, only to get caught up in the bad weather, much to his displeasure.
The kid looked to be around Owen’s age, but more than that, he looked delicious. He had been watching the other boy for a long, long time, and had wanted to claim him for a while. He knew he would be an insanely satisfying target and it was all he could do to keep himself from swimming over there and capsizing his boat right now. He knew it would be more satisfying to save the boy from drowning first, and besides, watching his panicked breaths was intoxicating.
A larger than usual wave hit, and the boat rocked forward; somehow it managed to stay afloat, but not before dropping its precious cargo into the stormy sea. Owen saw the kid bobbing at the surface of the ocean, life jacket barely keeping him afloat. He gasped for air just as another wave overtook him, and Owen took his chance to pounce.
With a powerful kick of his tail he swam over to the struggling boy and wrapped his strong arms around him. With practiced efficiency, he removed the boy’s lifejacket before he even realized something had him, and turned him around so they were face to face. Owen was delighted by the fact that the kid was frozen in panic.
Just before the next wave hit, he leaned in close and whispered, “Close your eyes.”
Without waiting to for the boy in his arms to respond, Owen pulled them both under the waves. He was pleased to note the human had his eyes squeezed shut, and barely contained his laughter as he saw the bubbles escaping when the human gasped in surprise. Normally he would do nothing at this point, but he wanted it to last. Before the human could inhale the ocean around him, Owen pressed his lips over the other boy’s and forced air into his lungs.
Owen focused on breathing through his gills, converting the water to life-giving air for the boy trapped in his embrace. He felt him relax. Good. Owen would let him get that false sense of security. It would make it all the better when he finally let him go.
The water was still too rough for Owen to really enjoy his catch, so he decided to head down into the cave system he called home. Deep under the island there was an air pocket with thin shafts that lead up to the surface, too small for anything to come down to, but just big enough to keep the air from totally stagnating.
He would take his catch there, lull it into a false sense of security. It had been too long since he played with his food like this, and Owen didn’t think he’d ever find something delicious enough to do it again.
He focused on the boy’s breathing as he swam down into the ocean. He would breath out through his nose, and Owen would force more air into his mouth. Once he got deep enough, his scales glowed in the darkness, and Owen was able to light his own way through the cave system with his own natural bioluminescence.
Parker knew he had to be dreaming. There was no way he was currently sharing air with a… Nope, he wasn’t even going to finish that thought. He counted breaths as the thing that held him dragged him deeper into the water. He opened his eyes once and regretted it instantly, but he noticed they were entering the cave system by the island, which was lit an eerie green-blue by the creature’s scales. He had been in the cave system before with his brother, but he had never gone this deep before.
After what felt like hours, but was really only a little over half an hour of various twists and turns, PJ felt himself being forced onto damp land. The small air-pocket was also lit by what looked like glowing moss clinging to the walls of the cave. He took a deep breath, gasping and finally allowing himself to hyperventilate now that he was out of the water and wasn’t relying on another…. person…. to keep him alive. He rubbed his eyes, blinking rapidly and trying to get the sting of salt out of them.
Owen just sat back and watched, observing his catch. If he were a merperson, he’d definitely be Owen’s type, there was no real getting around that. His hair clung to the sides of his face, no longer fanning out like it had in the water. It wasn’t a bad look for him, either way.
Owen noticed the teen’s breathing wasn’t evening out, and at this rate he’d pass out from lack of oxygen. He rolled his eyes. It’d be really irresponsible of him to let his dinner be oxygen starved after all the work he spent getting him here.
“Hey,” Owen said, his voice raspy from disuse. He wasn’t used to speaking above water. Singing, yes, but that was a totally different thing. “Kid, look at me.”
PJ complied, still shaking with each breath. His eyes were wide and panicked, and bloodshot from the sting of the briny depths.
Owen had spent a lot of time people watching. One of the things he wanted to learn was how best to induce panic in humans, and of course to do that he figured he should also know how to reduce panic. He thought a minute about what would be the best thing to do, and decided that asking some questions first would be a good idea. “What’s your name?” he started with.
PJ just stared, unable to get his breathing under control. He tried to answer, but when he couldn’t get his voice to work it just caused him to panic even more.
Owen pulled himself up on to the land and very gently placed a clawed hand onto the human’s leg. “Just breathe, princess. I don’t expect you to answer right away.” He patted PJ’s leg twice.
PJ took deep breaths, focusing on the sound of the creature’s voice. It was soothing, enchanting almost. If he had to describe the sound of salt and ocean waves then his voice would be it.
“My name’s Owen,” he said gently, almost, but not quite, singing his name. It had the intended effect, and PJ’s breathing slowed down to something reasonable. “Are you ready to tell me yours?”
PJ nodded. “Parker,” he responded. He coughed. “PJ, actually.”
Owen felt his heart stop. That voice was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard on a human. Seeing that PJ was no longer struggling to breathe, Owen pushed himself back into the water with a splash. He made a decision. “Well, kid today’s your lucky day,” he said.
“Yeah,” PJ said. “I guess it is pretty lucky you were out there. What are you, anyway?” He was genuinely curious. He was avoiding the term ‘merfolk’ at all costs, despite the fact that this was what Owen seemed to be.
“Oh, no,” Owen said dismissively, completely ignoring PJ’s question. “Today’s your lucky day because I’m taking you back to the surface when the storm clears.”
PJ paled slightly at the implication. Was Owen planning on leaving him down here? He hoped not.
“Until then, how about you go to sleep,” Owen sand the last words, letting the hypnotic power of his voice force PJ into compliance. Sure enough, before the last syllable even left Owen’s mouth, the other boy was fast asleep on the cold, damp earth. “And remember nothing.”
When PJ woke up, it was on the beach not far from the pier. He knew he had gone out in the storm last night. He must’ve been lucky to wash up on the shore like he did. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember anything after the storm hit. Only the faint impression of red hair.