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Jimin stared longingly at the duo in front of him. They were rich, he knew. Everyone knew. The clothes they wore did nothing to hid the fact, either. It was almost that time of year again, and as it drew closer, Jimin became more and more upset. He knew staring at the two most successful players of the village game wouldn’t help, so he forced himself to tear his eyes away.
Jeon Jungkook and Kim Taehyung. The perfect duo. Taehyung had the smarts, Jeon had the power. And they both had the voices. That was crucial. To even think about approaching one of the beasts, you needed to be either deaf, or have the most angelic song prepared to drown out the call of the siren.
Once a year they came. They came in packs. Hundreds of them. They were only passing through, but those on the island knew that only few would make it. The scales of such creatures were worth big bucks. Whoever could get their hands on even one coat was richer than Jimin could ever dream.
He knew it was selfish to want to hunt. He didn’t even have a good reason. Some recognition, maybe? That had to be it for him to put himself in his current situation. He knew it would be any second that first siren would sound it’s song. He heard others begin to sing, so he joined in as well. The shores of his hometown turned into a melody of sea and man as the hunters harmonized with nature itself to block out any kind of noise that was brought along with the evil chords of the sea deities.
Jimin looked to his left and right, his voice rising every second. He thought for a minute how stupid he was to think he could get away with this. He took his time taking in all of the people around him. He resonated with the way that the kid about ten feet from him was shaking so badly that he was about to drop his sword.
Jimin wondered how he himself was going to keep the arrow notched onto his bow while everything rushed around him, a visual representation of adrenaline. He wondered if maybe he’d be killed today. And if he was, would it be by the song of a siren, or the hand of another hunter who craved riches. He knew that he was one of those people, only in it for the money, but he would never go as far as killing another person.
“But you’d kill an innocent creature?” Jimin tried his best to shake the unfamiliar voice out of his head, but he was still trying to figure out where it had come from when it didn’t matter anymore, because with the flash of light at the top of the watchtower, those around him rushed forward. He followed them, but caught up almost instantly.
He increased the volume of his distraction as the sea foam rushed around his ankles and up to his calves and eventually to his waist as he went deeper into the water. He instantly regretted when his voice faltered with surprise at the cold water.
Jimin’s mind was instantly drawn to one tune out if many that filled his ears. It sounded oddly familiar. The voice was rough. It was staccato. It wasn’t a beautiful song, so much as it was spoken poetry. Very fast poetry. In his own confusion, Jimin started following the harsh rhyme further into the sea. He noticed how it was leading him to a cave, but couldn’t do anything to stop how slow everything seemed to be moving, or how breathless he’d become. Was that water in his lungs? It must have been. Still, he struggled on, being led deeper into the rocky room.
He looked around, suddenly realizing how bad the situation was, but still not caring enough, because he liked how the voice sounded, deep and calming, yet angry and slurred at the same time.
“What’s your name?” The song stopped, and Jimin blinked away the daze. He liked when the voice spoke, and wanted to hear more.
“Park Jimin.” He wasn’t sure why he answered. He was vaguely aware that he had notched his bow, ready to shoot at any moment.
“You can put down your weapon, Mr. Park,” the voice chided. He sounded sarcastic, and Jimin thought the guy was probably an asshole, but his voice was so hypnotizing that the thought was instantly shoved to the back of his mind. “I’m not here to harm you. I don’t know what they’ve told you, but we come in peace.”
“I need your skin,” Jimin whispered absentmindedly.
“Yes, yes, that’s what they all say,” the voice seemed annoyed. “They say they want your skin, ask you for it politely, then get angry when you won’t give away your body, and are surprised that they never return home. I can’t help but return any hostility you show me, Mr. Park, I hope you understand.” Jimin was surprised when the water moved next to him and the echoy voice finally had a face to it’s mysterious words. Jimin instantly snapped his bow in the direction of the creature.
“Your skin is white,” Jimin noted. “You look like sugar.”
“Not so sweet, though, am I?” The siren bared it’s teeth that looked inconceivably sharp. The scales at the base of it’s stomach sparkled in the dim light that filtered through the cave opening. They were pearly, and Jimin suddenly knew why they were so desired.
“Do you have a name?” Jimin ventured, never ceasing to keep the head of his arrow aimed at the siren's head.
“Min Yoongi,” His voice was low. Jimin liked how his hair was silver. It matched the glow of his skin, the sparkle of his scales, the glint of his teeth, and the black of his eyes.
“Yoongi,” the name rolled off his tongue like a curse. “I’m terribly sorry,” Jimin said, “but I’m going to have to kill you at some point, Mr. Min.”
“Then why haven’t you done it yet?” Yoongi purred. Jimin was completely and utterly soaked from head to toe, half of his bow was submerged under water, as the waves reached past the top of his hips. He rolls the older’s question around his brain, shifting it from the left side which he rendered useless to the right, and that’s where he found his answer.
“Because you are utterly beautiful,” Jimin cried, lowering his bow. “It’s not even remotely fair!”
“I can’t help but wonder what your frame of reference for ‘fair’ is, Mr. Park,” Yoongi had disappeared back into the shadows, leaving Jimin standing alone, trusting only in the echoes of the voice to guide him to where the siren was hiding. “If you’re so eager to find me, come look.”
“How did you know what I was thinking?” Jimin wondered out loud, though doubting it was necessary. Then he realized. “You’re the voice from earlier, aren’t you?”
“Bravo,” Jimin could hear the sarcasm in Yoongi’s voice. “Was I wrong, though?”
“No,” Jimin bit his lip, “you’re not. I am willing to kill you.”
“The feeling is mutual.” Before Jimin could register what was happening, Yoongi started up his chant-like song again. He felt his knees go weak, but managed to stay standing.
“What is that called?” Jimin couldn’t tell if he had actually spoken or if he had just though it. To his surprise, Yoongi stopped, as if he were startled. “Why did you quit?”
“You can’t possibly tell me you enjoy that.” Yoongi’s voice rang out across the cave. He was to Jimin’s left.
“How could I not?” Jimin took as tep in Yoongi’s direction.
“My voice isn’t pleasant, Jimin,” his voice sounded farther away than it had before, much to Jimin’s dismay. He took another step.
“It is,” Jimin pressed on. He felt drawn to the slur in Yoongi’s voice. He sounded drunk, and Jimin suddenly wanted to know if Yoongi’s lips tasted like champagne.
“Then come and get it,” Yoongi’s voice was nothing but a whisper, but it still traveled effortlessly with the help of the stony walls. “Best pray to Soteria.”
“No need,” Jimin kept pushing forward more and more. The water rose around him at an alarming rate, but he couldn’t seem to care once Yoongi’s voice filled the air, replacing the sound of rushing waves with the tidal of his poetry. Jimin took note of how lonely it sounded. How Yoongi’s voice seemed sad. Jimin wanted him to find the same comfort that he felt when he was enveloped by the ocean, the sound of the siren pulling him farther down with no fears, fully trusting in the salt and the seaweed.
“So sorry,” Yoongi said, “don’t mean to hurt you. It’s how it must be.”
It was the last thing he heard before the sea enveloped him completely, the salty water filling his lungs when he gasped for air.