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Dom stood at the edge of the pier, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, watching the water. The ocean never looked clean this close to shore. Oil rainbows slicked across the surface; detritus floated, Styrofoam cups bobbing between the hulls of fishing boats.
And beneath it all, another life existed - presumably sentient, definitely dangerous.
"You coming or what?"
Dom turned. Vince stood nearby, arms crossed. The boat behind him looked like any fishing boat, but Dom knew better.
"Yeah. Let's go," he said.
The law forbade humans and merfolk from hunting each other - but the law was only the law. Enforcement needed proof, proof needed witnesses, and most killings happened where nobody was looking.
Hunters dragged merfolk onto the decks of ships and stripped them of their scales - for cosmetics, for curiosity, for sport. Scales and organs were sold for high prices in certain markets, and teeth replaced ivory.
Some killed because merfolk had killed humans, and killing in return felt like justice. Some killed out of fear - because merfolk songs triggered dopamine responses in human minds, making the sound feel like relief or longing. Some merfolk knew this and used it deliberately, luring victims into the water.
Drowning them.
Eating them.
But most didn't. Specialists said singing was how merfolk communicated, or how they calmed themselves. To human ears, though, a merfolk singing to soothe a sick child sounded exactly the same as one singing to lure prey.
Merfolk retaliated by attacking boats, pulling fishermen underwater, or singing to lure them for reasons that had nothing to do with hunger. They said humans poisoned the ocean, that they built without wisdom - a species that created faster than it could understand what it had made, always ending in destruction.
Humans thought of merfolk as fish - frozen in time, living the same way for thousands of years, with no technology, no cities, no written records humans could understand. And that belief made it easier to see them as inferior beings.
Dom had been coming to the docks every day for the past week, standing exactly where he was now, watching the tide come in and go out, as if it could give him answers.
Nineteen people had vanished in the last two months along the coast near Santa Barbara. Belongings had been found: a shoe half-buried in sand, a wallet ruined by seawater, keys wrapped in seaweed. The police said they hadn't determined what had happened yet - but people knew better.
The man-eaters. Living underwater.
Because fear of the unknown always won.
He followed Vince and climbed into the boat, rocking gently beneath him. It was small and modified with radar equipment, loaded with harpoons. There were six men onboard. Dom knew two of them - Vince and Carter, their captain. The others were Arturo, Tego, and Rico.
"They're killing us," Carter had said at the meeting in the union hall, his voice angry and righteous at the same time. "They've been killing us for years, and we've been too chickenshit to do anything about it. Well, I'm done being chickenshit. Who's with me?"
Vince had raised his hand, and Dom had followed.
And here he was.
Arturo maneuvered the boat, and they left the shores. Vince was settling below deck, eyes on the radar screen.
Carter stood near the bow with a harpoon resting against his shoulder, watching the water. He had done this before - hunting merfolk. Nobody could confirm it, but everybody knew it.
Vince was calling out directions whenever the scanner picked up movement. Tego and Rico stayed near the stern, coiling rope and checking the nets they had brought, in case harpoons weren't enough. They kept glancing at the water like they expected something to reach up and grab them.
Dom stood in the middle of the boat, holding his own harpoon. He had practiced throwing it on land, driving the tip into sandbags. Out on the water, it felt heavier. Not the weapon itself, but the decision to use it.
He had never truly seen merfolk before. Their tails, sometimes.
When he was a kid, his father had said they were just like humans, only living underwater. He had believed that for a long time - before he heard the cold truth about how merfolk were predatory creatures, luring them to drown them. Before he'd seen for himself what was left of someone who'd been attacked. Before he saw what their teeth looked like, in museums and on the internet.
He thought his dad had been naive to think that just because something looked like a human, it meant it was actually human.
After thirty minutes underway, the radar beeped. Vince's voice came up through the open hatch. "Movement. Starboard side, about half a mile out."
Carter moved to the console, studying the screen. "How many?"
"Three. They're moving fast."
Arturo slowed the boat down.
They all looked at the water, calm in appearance, dangerous in reality.
Then, movement.
Something large passed beneath the boat, close enough that Dom felt the displacement of water, the subtle shift in the vessel's balance. He tensed, his hands sweating on the harpoon grip. He adjusted his hold. The metal was hot from the sun.
Carter shifted his stance and lifted the harpoon, but the shadow was already gone.
A few seconds later, the water split for a moment - a flash of pale skin, long tail, the outline of a body before it disappeared again.
"There," Rico said from the other side, tracking another one.
"I saw it too," Tego said, his voice quivering.
It disappeared as quickly as the first one.
Carter jerked back and said, "Shit it's gonna-"
The boat lurched.
Arturo grabbed the wheel with both hands, felt the whole frame twist sideways. Something had hit them hard from below. The kind of impact that said I know you're here and I want you to leave.
Tego stumbled, caught himself on the railing. Carter swore again.
"Here!" Rico screamed from the other side of the boat.
Dom was about to move, but the water broke near him, closer this time, and eyes that caught the light and reflected it back like a cat's rose from the depths.
Dom's brain stuttered, trying to reconcile what his eyes were showing him with every image he'd ever seen in books and documentaries. It looked human, but wasn't. From here, he could see hair and the tip of thin membranes, long as a handspan, fanning out from the ears like a fish's fin.
The figure didn't attack. It didn't run. It was just… watching. Its gaze moved from Carter to the other dockworkers. When it reached Dom, it stopped.
Dom's grip shifted, but the merman wasn't doing anything. It wasn't singing. It wasn't moving closer. It wasn't showing teeth. It was just looking at them with a careful expression, as if it was trying to gauge the situation.
Carter saw the merman too and his voice broke the silence. "Don't let it lure you! That's how they get in your head!"
The merman moved then. It lifted itself higher in the water, shoulders visible now, and Dom could see the shape of them, the way they moved, and it was human, it was so human, except-
The merman opened its mouth and hissed.
The sound was wrong. Sharp, shrilling and violent. And Dom could see teeth. Rows of them, curved and jagged.
His skin prickled with goosebumps.
Not human. Not even close.
Carter threw his harpoon. The merman dropped below the surface before it hit. Dom saw the tail come up as it dove - a flash of mesmerizing silver and blue that reflected the light strangely, longer than he expected - and then it was gone.
"Shit," Carter said. "Missed it." He turned to Dom and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You okay? First time seeing one so closely?"
Dom realized he'd stopped breathing, and he nodded. His hands were still locked around the harpoon, and he forced them to relax, lowered the weapon.
The water was empty again. No tail, no fins, no eyes. Just waves.
The radar beeped again, but the signal was deeper now, moving away from the boat. Vince called up that they were losing it.
They stayed out for another two hours. The sonar picked up shapes twice more, but they were always too deep or too far. No one saw anything surface again and at some point, Carter said they should head back. Arturo turned the boat around.
No one talked much on the way back. Rico and Tego sat near the stern, sharing a cigarette, Carter was in the cabin, doing something with his radio, while Vince was looking at the radars like it could suddenly do miracles.
Dom sat on the bench. He thought about the merman. The eyes. The teeth. The way it had just watched him.
The way he hadn't thrown the harpoon.
His father wouldn't have been proud of him for hunting them - but his father hadn't known about the disappearances. He had died five years ago, and with him any belief that merfolk deserved respect.
They reached the dock. Dom helped tie the boat off and Vince coiled the ropes. Rico and Tego carried the harpoons back to the storage shed.
No success today.
"You want a beer?" Vince asked.
Dom nodded. They had barely done anything but it had felt tiring nonetheless. "Yeah," he said. "Alright."
:::
Vince lived in a neighborhood that had been built for dock workers fifty years ago. The houses were small, the paint faded, the porches cluttered with tools and fishing gear.
Dom followed him inside. Vince pulled two bottles from the fridge and handed one over. His roommate, Leon, was already here.
"So?" Leon said. "How'd it go?"
"They scattered," Vince said. "Carter got a throw off, but it didn't connect."
Leon nodded. He was older than both of them, and had the kind of calm that came from spending more time thinking rather than acting. He worked at the marine research center, cataloging sound recordings and migration patterns. Most people thought his job was pointless - Dom knew Leon did not care what most people thought.
Vince leaned back, stretching his legs out. "Merfolk have been getting bolder these last few years, coming closer to shore. It was only a matter of time before they started taking people on purpose, instead of just the ones stupid enough to swim at night."
"Those are rumors. We don't have any proof," Leon remarked.
Vince shrugged. "Doesn't make them wrong. Why else would people disappear near the beaches? It's not like we don't know what those creatures can do."
Dom hesitated, then turned to Leon. "You don't think it's them taking the missing people?" he asked.
Leon set his bottle down. "I can't condemn them without evidence. And objectively, this looks different from usual. We're not talking about swimmers here - we're talking about random people who weren't even supposed to be at the beach. I think the best solution would be to ask the merfolk directly."
Vince laughed, short and sharp. "Ask them. Right. You want to swim out there and have a conversation?"
"I didn't say it would be easy," Leon replied, "but most of them don't want conflict. They just want to live peacefully. If one of them really is hunting humans, it puts all of them at risk - and there's a chance their own people already know about it. Maybe they're handling it internally. Maybe they'd be willing to share information if someone asked the right way."
"And if they just kill whoever asks?" Vince said.
Leon shrugged. "Not worse than what's happening right now. We're killing each other rather than talk about the problem. I don't see how that's beneficial."
Dom thought about the merman. The way it had surfaced, the way it had looked at the boat, at him, without attacking. It hadn't looked mindless, but hadn't tried communicating either.
The teeth and the hiss had been real, though, but only coming after Carter intervened, not before. Carter had said the merman was trying to lure him, but Dom doubted that.
"What do you know about luring?" he asked.
Leon took a drink. "That the myths about luring are exaggerated. Merfolk do sing, and some people are susceptible to it. It's neurological. But it's not mind control, it's not magic. It's just… appealing."
"Like food's smell?" Dom asked, feeling stupid for a second, before he saw the light in Leon's eyes.
"Exactly. You can smell something good, want to eat it, but it doesn't mean you can't walk away. Luring works because people choose to follow the sound. They think they'll be the exception, think it will bring them comfort or it will heal their loneliness. Merfolk who use it know that. They're not casting spells, they're just offering something people want and waiting to see who's dumb enough to take it."
Vince was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "I heard one once."
Dom looked at him. "What?"
"A merfolk. Singing. It was years ago, late at night, down by the south rocks. I followed the sound, but I didn't find anyone. It was coming from underwater. I stood there for maybe ten minutes, just listening. Then I left."
"What did it sound like?" Dom asked, feeling curious.
Vince looked at him. "Like… I don't know. Like the best thing I'd ever heard. Like I'd been waiting my whole life to hear it and didn't know it until that moment."
Dom nodded, even though he had no idea what that feeling would be like. "Did you want to go into the water?" he asked.
Vince thought about it. "Yeah. But I didn't."
"Most merfolk sing for reasons that have nothing to do with humans," Leon said. "Maybe this one was luring people, but statistically? If you'd entered the water, it probably would have just scared it away. If it had attacked you, it would've been out of fear, not because it had planned it. We're not so different from each other. Fear dictates actions."
Dom remembered what his father had said, about how not trying to understand the merfolk was the reason why there was no progress between the two species. To his dad, merfolk were as intelligent as humans - and both were also as stubborn as the other.
He thought again about the way the merman had watched the boat.
Maybe Leon was right - maybe they weren't doing things the right way.
His phone buzzed. Text from Carter: Same time tomorrow. Vince received the same one.
:::
Instead of going home, Dom walked down the streets he'd known his whole life, past his elementary school, past his father's favorite restaurant that had been there since before Dom was born.
His feet carried him to the rocky stretch north of the harbor, where the locals went when they wanted to be alone.
He sat on a piece of driftwood, listening to the waves. The rhythm was hypnotic - crash, hiss, silence, crash, hiss, silence. He could feel it in his chest, matching his breathing, slowing his heartbeat.
He'd been eight years old the first time his dad brought him here. They'd spent the whole afternoon building a sandcastle. Dom had been so proud of it, and then the tide had come in and erased everything in about five minutes. His dad had said the ocean didn't care what you build, it just kept moving.
What would his dad think about what he was doing? About the hunting trips and the harpoons? Would he understand? Or would he just look at Dom with those sad, disappointed eyes and ask when Dom had stopped thinking for himself?
He pulled his jacket tighter - the wind off the ocean was cold. He should go home, get some sleep. Figure out how to tell Carter he wasn't coming tomorrow without sounding like he'd lost his nerve.
When he stood to leave, a movement caught his eye.
At first he thought it was just a wave breaking differently, but then it happened again, and Dom saw it - the tip of a merfolk tail, then a face rising from the water about thirty feet offshore, holding position, looking cautious.
Dom's heart started hammering, adrenaline flooding his system even though his rational brain knew he was safe on land. Merfolk didn't come up on beaches. They couldn't. Their bodies weren't built for it.
Then he recognized the face - and the eyes. It was the same merfolk as earlier. Dom was sure of it.
He spoke before he could think better of it. "Hey-"
The merman sunk back down.
"Shit," he muttered. He waited, but the water stayed still. He wondered if that was it. If trying to talk to a merman was as stupid as it sounded.
He tried anyway. He spoke to the empty water. "Humans are disappearing around here. Do you know something?"
Silence. Just the tide. Dom counted to sixty in his head, then began walking away. He was probably just wasting his time and looking like a fool.
A second later, he heard the water shift. He turned and saw the merman again.
His face was fully visible now, droplets clinging to his eyelashes. He didn't speak.
Dom waited. And waited more. The merman blinked slowly.
Dom opened his mouth to repeat his question, but in a rough voice, like he was not used to speaking in air, the merman said, "I have seen small boats arriving and leaving at night here."
So he had heard the question. But Dom didn't like the answer. Of course the merman accused humans.
His jaw tightened. "The harbors are further down the coast. Boats don't come on the shores here."
The merman's voice came out sharp. "You think I wouldn’t recognize a boat when I see one? They are noisy and disturb us."
Dom took a step back. "Enough," he said quickly. "You're lying, merman. You're just trying to fool me and gain my trust so you can eat me. But I won't be lured by stupid songs."
Dom had no idea whether he would be lured or not, but he didn't plan on finding out.
The merman's expression changed - something vicious sliding across his features, and he hissed. "If you're as stupid as the rest of the humans, then maybe I will eat you."
He dropped below the surface before Dom could respond. Dom called out, trying to get him back, but the water remained empty.
"Shit," he said.
Small boats. The kind that could come and go at night without drawing attention.
The merman had reasons to lie - to protect his own, out of a natural distrust of humans. But Leon had said most of them weren't looking for conflict, and this one had stopped and talked to Dom. That had to mean something, and even if he didn't want to believe a word the merman said, he couldn't ignore it either.
:::
He barely slept that night and spent his next afternoon after work investigating - at least as well as someone with no idea what he was doing could.
He went to the harbor office and asked about boat registrations. The clerk confirmed what he already guessed - all boats registered in the past few months were obeying the norms and were legal. None were supposed to approach the shores, and the patrol routes did not see anything suspicious - but they also weren't covering that area regularly. Not enough traffic to justify it.
Dom wondered if the disappearances should have been enough of a reason to send more patrols, but because they were certain it was merfolk, they probably thought it would be a waste of time - or they were afraid they'd get lured too.
He asked around the docks. Most people said the same thing: no boats, no activity.
But some people looked at him for too long before answering. Others spoke too quickly, their words clipped and nervous, their eyes barely focusing on him. One woman, holding a child in her arms as she answered the door, with two other kids running around, said she knew nothing about it - before quickly adding that neither of her children did either.
Dom wasn't a cop, but it felt fishy. The problem was - if some people knew something, what were the investigators doing? Hadn't they interrogated people nearby?
Were they all in on it, money in exchange for keeping their heads down? Or were they so certain it was merfolk that they hadn't bothered asking around at all, or had only done so superficially?
He went back to the beach that evening. He sat on the same rocks and waited. Ten minutes passed, but the merman didn't appear. He called out anyway, feeling stupid, his voice carrying over the dark water. "Hey."
He waited. Called again. "Hey, merman."
Five minutes passed. Then the water shifted, and the eyes surfaced, closer than before.
Blue. They were blue. Dom could see them better now.
"Why are you back, human?" The merman's voice was flat, unimpressed.
Human. Like that was all Dom was. A category, not a person - just like how humans only ever saw merfolk as creatures, not individuals.
"I'm not just a human," he said. "I'm Dom."
The merman stared at him. "And I'm not just a merman. I have a name too."
Dom blinked. They had names. Why wouldn't they? Why hadn't he even considered it before? Leon probably knew. He felt stupid. "What is it?"
The merman hesitated. Then he said, "Brian."
Dom scoffed gently. "Very human of you."
"My real name is unpronounceable for you, Dom."
Dom felt the challenge in that. "Try me."
The sound that came out of Brian's throat was not a word. It was layered, melodious, between a click and a song. It lasted half a second and left Dom feeling like he'd just been told something important that he'd never understand.
Dom stared. "Okay. Brian it is."
Brian's expression did not change, but something in his posture shifted. Still wary, but less guarded.
"You weren't on the boat today," Brian said. "With the other guys."
Dom had told Verone he wouldn't come - excuse: too much work - but he hadn't thought about the fact that Verone would go anyway.
He sat down on the rocks. "No. Instead I looked into what you said. About the small boats."
Brian looked surprised, but he didn't say anything. Dom continued, "How often do you see them?"
"About three times a month. It began two months ago."
That corroborated the disappearances. It could still be a lie - maybe Dom was facing the actual culprit, which would explain why he knew so much.
Or maybe those boats had nothing to do with the disappearances at all, just people heading out to sea for whatever reason they had.
"And do you know why they come?"
It felt like a stupid question - merfolk lived underwater, with rules and a way of life very different from humans'. How on earth would one of them know about human business?
But to his surprise, Brian rose a little higher in the water, his shoulders fully visible now.
"No. But there are usually three people on the boat. Then two to four more board it - but those ones don't go willingly. We stay away from boats, because small boats at night usually have bad intentions toward us. But we can hear what happens on the surface."
Dom's hands tightened on the edge of the rock. If this was the truth, then they'd been hunting the wrong people this whole time.
"You didn't try telling that to someone?" he asked.
Brian's laugh was short and bitter. "Your kind shoots harpoons first and asks questions never. We don't owe you anything, this shouldn't even concern us - yet you still managed to involve us somehow. Killing us. For your own mistakes. Typical of humans."
Dom couldn't blame his resentment. He hesitated, then spoke.
"You're telling me, though," he said gently.
Brian said nothing for a moment. "To help my species stop being massacred, it felt like the wisest choice. You looked at me and didn't throw your weapon, so I thought maybe you'd be one of the humans who would listen. But your friend shot a harpoon at me."
Dom wanted to argue that Carter was definitely not his friend, but that felt petty and useless. He had been on the boat with him. He had been ready to throw that harpoon too. Whether Carter was his friend or not didn't change the reality: Dom was just as guilty.
"I'm sorry about that," he said instead.
Brian watched Dom with an expression that was hard to read. Not friendly, but acknowledging, maybe, that a human was apologizing.
"My best friend died," Brian said, his voice lower. "Your people killed him a month ago. I wanted to destroy your boat, grab you, drown you all - see the fear in your eyes as you looked at us underwater, knowing exactly what would happen next and still being unable to escape."
A shiver ran down Dom's spine.
"What changed your mind?" he asked, trying to control his voice.
Brian stayed silent for a moment. There was pain in his eyes, a real and raw heart aching pain, and Dom could see the blue too bright, too wet.
"It wouldn't have saved my friend," Brian said. His expression softened, drifting into something distant as he continued. "While I was mourning him, a little girl approached the shore because she heard me singing. She walked into the water, but the waves were too strong, and she couldn't make it back to the beach. She panicked. I sang to bring her peace. She calmed down, and when she looked at me, there was none of the manipulation I see in your adult forms. She was innocent. She asked me if I was real. Asked if I could teach her to swim like that."
Brian refocused on Dom. "And I realized… she didn't know. Didn't know about the hunting, the killing, the centuries of blood. She just saw another person in the water."
Not yet shaped by the world around her. Still open‑minded and trusting.
Dom felt his throat tighten. He had been like that too, once - when he believed the stories his father had told him. Then he had hardened with time, because life wasn't as beautiful as he'd imagined it would be as a child.
But it was proof that conflict and hate weren't innate, only learned. And anything learned could be unlearned. Changed.
Maybe his father hadn't been a naive man, but a man who saw past the fear that shaped the world.
"I'm sorry about your friend. I want to warn the police, but I'm afraid they'll just ignore me without proof. Do you know where the boats go?" he asked.
"We've never followed them," Brian said. "But I could."
Dom nodded. "That would be amazing. If I take a boat, they'll notice me. But you're invisible to them." He stood. "I'm going to come back here every day at this hour. When there are boats, you tell me where they went. If they're small boats, they can't go that far."
Brian nodded slowly. Then he slipped beneath the water and was gone.
:::
The next few days passed slowly. Dom went to work - managing the family garage - then went back to the shore every evening, but no boats were spotted.
Then came the day he heard the news over dinner. The waitress was serving him coffee when she said, "Did you hear about last night? A man went to the police station - his wife didn't come home. And this morning, it was a boss saying one of his employees didn't show up. Damn merfolk did it again."
Dom stood up so quickly she jumped.
He apologized. "Sorry, I- I'm gonna be late for work. Didn't see the time pass."
He paid, then ran to the shore and called out. "Brian? Brian!"
A couple walking along the shore glanced at him strangely, but kept going.
He scanned the surface, heart pounding, waiting for a flash of blue eyes. Nothing. He called again, louder this time.
The water broke about twenty feet out, and Brian surfaced fast, breathing hard like he'd been swimming at full speed. He looked at Dom with wide eyes, urgent.
"Two," Brian said, before Dom could even ask. "Two people. One woman, one man."
Dom's stomach dropped.
Brian swam closer, until he was just beyond the shallow water. He lifted one hand out of the waves. Water dripped from his webbed fingers, and caught between them was a silver ring.
"This fell from the woman's hand," Brian said. "She was fighting them. She dropped it in the water during the trip."
Dom approached without thinking, now crouching at the tip of the rock. He reached out and took the ring carefully. It was small, delicate, with an engraved pattern around the band. He turned it over and saw initials on the inside: M.R. & T.R.
"What happened after?" he asked, his voice rough.
"They drove them to one of the Channel Islands. Santa Rosa, I think you call it. There was a truck waiting. The people were moved from the boat into the truck."
Dom stared at the ring in his palm. Evidence. Evidence he couldn't explain to the cops yet. "Thank you," he said.
Brian's expression shifted. "I hope it will help."
"I hope so too..."
Brian dove. Dom stood there for another moment, the ring cold and wet in his hand. Then he turned and ran.
:::
At home, Dom grabbed his laptop and opened the local news sites. It didn't take long to find what he was looking for.
Mary Richard reported missing. Last seen leaving work Wednesday evening.
Dom read the article. Mary Richard. Married. The article mentioned her husband, Tomas Richard, who had filed the missing person report.
M.R. and T.R.
Dom sat back in his chair, staring at the screen. The initials matched. The timeline matched. Everything matched. This wasn't coincidence or speculation anymore.
He needed help. He needed people who would believe him, who would act. He pulled out his phone and texted Vince: Need to talk. Can you come over? Bring Leon.
The response came back almost immediately: On our way.
:::
Vince and Leon arrived twenty minutes later. Vince looked concerned, Leon curious. "What's going on?" Vince asked as he stepped inside.
Dom held up the ring. "This belonged to one of the missing people. Mary Richard."
Vince frowned. "Where'd you get it?"
Dom hesitated. He needed to tell them the truth. He knew how this was going to sound, but there was no other way to say it.
He took a deep breath. "Remember the merman from the ocean? The one who didn't attack."
Vince's expression shifted from confusion to alarm, as he was processing what Dom was saying - and what it implied. "Jesus Christ, Dom- don't tell me you talked to that thing?"
"He came back to me when I was on the shore. Said there were boats taking people, and that he didn't want his people to be accused of something they have nothing to do about."
Vince stared at him, deadpan. "And you believed it?"
"Yes," Dom said, certain. "He told me the boats were going to Santa Rosa, and that this ring belonged to a woman who was forced onboard. He also mentioned a man. According to him, both were loaded into a truck once they reached the island."
When he finished, Vince was pacing, running his hands through his hair. "This is insane. You realize how insane this sounds?"
"I know," Dom said. "But look at the ring. Look at the initials. It matches."
Vince stopped pacing and stared at the ring in Dom's hand. He didn't say anything.
Leon stepped forward and picked up the ring, examining it carefully. "If the merfolk is telling the truth, we have to do something."
Vince shook his head. "Or it's manipulating Dom. Playing him. What if this is all part of some elaborate setup to lure him in?"
Leon looked at Vince. "To what end? Trust me, he would have sung or attacked already by now, if that was his goal. No, this is something else. They're being wrongly accused - wouldn't you want to find out what's really happening if you were him?"
Vince looked unconvinced, but Dom could see the doubt creeping in.
"There's another thing," Dom said. "I asked around the docks. People are scared. They're not talking because they're afraid. Someone's keeping them quiet. I think the truth is right in front of us, but we were blind to it - too focused on the merfolk being guilty."
Vince exhaled slowly, then looked at Leon. "What do you think?"
Leon set the ring back on the table. "If Dom's right, the merfolk have been scapegoated, and someone's using that fear to cover up what's really happening. Or just using it at their advantage. We can't ignore that. We need proof."
Vince was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, "If you're wrong-"
"I'm not," Dom said.
Vince looked at him, searching his face. Then he nodded. "Alright. What do you need?"
Dom felt relieved. "I need to catch them in the act and call the cops. They won't believe me if I told them a merman gave me the ring and told me about the boats, and they probably wouldn't believe Brian himself. But we know the truth, and that's the best solution we have."
"Who's Brian?" Vince asked, blinking. Then, a few seconds later, "Oh. That's the merfolk, right?"
Dom nodded. "Yeah. He told me his real name, but that's just… complicated."
"Wait," Leon said. "He told you his real name?"
Dom blinked, surprised. "Yeah. Why?"
"It's just that... as far as we know, no merfolk has ever told their real name to a human," Leon explained. "There's no written record of it, at least. So… consider yourself lucky, I suppose. Though if it sounded like their language, you probably have no idea what he actually said."
"Absolutely no idea," Dom said with a smile, feeling a quiet pride that Brian had trusted him with it. "But it was beautiful."
Leon chuckled. "I believe you. I've studied their language for a long time. It's really interesting."
Vince interrupted them. "Okay. Well. He said Brian, so we'll go with that." He turned to Dom. "What's the plan? We watch the beach at night?"
That brought Dom back to Earth. "Yes, exactly. We wait for the boats to come, and when they do, we call the cops and make sure they can't ignore it."
Leon crossed his arms. "If these people are trafficking humans, they won't hesitate to hurt anyone who gets in their way."
"I know," Dom said. "But I'm not letting this keep happening."
Vince sighed. "You're insane. You know that?"
"Probably."
"And you're really trusting this merman."
Dom thought about Brian, the pain in his voice when he'd talked about his friend, the hope when he had talked about the little girl, the resignation when he thought nobody would listen to him. His thoughts were just as complicated and complex as humans. His dad had been right all along.
"Yeah," Dom said. "I am."
Vince shook his head, but he was smiling faintly. "When do we start?"
"They probably won't be back before a week," Dom said. "In the meantime, we wait."
:::
Dom returned to the beach that evening, just as the sun was dipping below the horizon. He found his usual spot on the rocks and waited.
Brian surfaced almost immediately, as if he'd been waiting.
"Hey," Brian said.
"Hey. The ring - it matched. Mary Richard. Her husband filed a missing person report yesterday."
Dom saw in Brian's eyes the same pain he'd seen when Brian had talked about his friend. He understood the feeling of losing someone.
"Starting next week, I'll stay on the beach at night with my friend Vince," Dom said.
Brian frowned. "That will be dangerous for you. What if they attack you too? They aren't good people. Are you sure about this?"
Dom was scared - there was no point pretending otherwise. But he was also ready to restore the truth, whatever the cost. "Once they're caught, nobody's going to accuse your people anymore. I'm going to prove you're innocent. If that comes with a bit of risk, so be it. That's the least I can do, considering what my people are doing to yours right now."
Brian smiled. "I'll be around, watching for them. If you hear me sing, it means they're arriving."
Dom nodded. That was a good idea, in case they didn't hear the boat.
Then the words registered. Singing. He was going to hear Brian sing.
His face must have looked strange, because he saw Brian draw in on himself a little.
"Or scream," Brian added quickly. "Or throw rocks at you. I'm sorry - we use singing to communicate, even from far away. We don't have things like… phones."
Dom imagined Brian throwing rocks or tapping on a dead phone underwater - and scoffed. "No, singing. I don't mind. I was just surprised," he said with a reassuring smile.
Vince had said he'd heard it from a distance. From this close, there would be no doubt they'd hear it.
Brian's smile returned. "I'm glad you're different from the others," he said quietly. "It's hard to find your kind close to the sea. Usually, when men are here, it's never for good reasons. The good ones, I assume, are hiding somewhere else, inland."
Dom thought of Leon, who would definitely be one of the good ones. "They are," he said. "But maybe this will help break down the walls between our species."
Brian nodded. "I hope so." He lifted one hand out of the water and rested it on the edge of the rock, close to Dom. His fingers were long and webbed, the skin smooth and pale. Dom found himself staring at them, at the way the moonlight caught the thin membrane between each digit.
Without thinking, he placed his own hand over Brian's. The sensation was strange, but so natural at the same time.
Brian looked at their hands, then back at Dom. He smiled.
"See you, Dom," he said.
Dom nodded, his throat too tight to speak.
Brian's hand slid out from under Dom's, and he disappeared into the dark.
Dom stood there for a while after he was gone, staring at the spot where Brian had been.
:::
What followed was the longest week of Dom's life. Hours at the garage dragged on endlessly as he pretended to focus on the job, anxious, restless, and impatient.
They couldn't fail. Because right now, he was waiting for people to be kidnapped - and it was a terrible feeling, even if it was necessary to catch those responsible.
The days bled together - work, home, the beach to check in with Brian, back home again, sleep that never quite came. Vince called twice to make sure he hadn't changed his mind.
Dom hadn't.
Finally, the week ended.
They set up their tent on the northern edge of the shore, tucked into a natural alcove where the rocks curved inward and created a pocket of shadow. It wasn't completely hidden - nothing could be, not on an open beach - but it was partially concealed from both the road and the ocean. Dom knew camping here wasn't allowed. He didn't care. The only thing that mattered was being here when the boats came. His bigger fear wasn't getting caught by park rangers, it was that someone would spot them before they spotted the boats, that a well-meaning citizen would call the cops about suspicious activity, and the whole operation would scatter before they could prove anything.
The first night, just after sunset, he stepped out of the tent to stretch his legs, his joints stiff from sitting still for so long. The cold of the night felt sharp against his skin. The ocean wind cut through his jacket, and his fingers went numb if he didn't keep them moving.
He walked down to the waterline, careful to stay in the shadows, when he spotted Brian.
The water reached just below his eyes, rippling gently around his submerged face. Brian was watching him, his gaze lingering curiously on the tent, and Dom felt something warm settle in his chest. Maybe Brian had never seen a tent before. Houses, yes - from afar. It struck Dom that everything he'd taken for granted in his life was a curiosity to Brian.
He let out a quiet laugh and smiled, catching Brian's attention. But then Brian's gaze shifted past him again, and Dom realized Vince had come out of the tent.
Time seemed to freeze. Vince had moved closer to join Dom and now stood there, maybe ten feet away, staring at the merfolk with an expression caught between wonder and terror. His mouth opened slightly, then closed. His hand came up - slow, uncertain - and he gave a small, awkward wave.
Brian's eyes widened. His pupils dilated, and for a fraction of a second, Dom saw panic flash across his face. Then he dropped beneath the surface so fast it barely left a ripple, and he was gone.
Vince's hand was still suspended in the air, frozen mid-wave. He looked at Dom, bewildered.
Dom smiled despite himself. "Give him some time."
Vince lowered his hand slowly. "But he talked to you so easily," he muttered.
Dom chuckled. Brian had talked to him, yes, but it hadn't been easy. It had been desperate. A last-ditch attempt to save his people from being hunted.
He barely slept that night. Every sound made him jolt awake - the hiss of waves against the sand, the distant rumble of a car on the coastal road, the snap of their tent flap in the wind. He lay on his back, staring at the tent's ceiling, counting the hours until dawn.
The second night was easier. His body adjusted to the cold, to the hard ground beneath his sleeping bag, to the constant background noise of the ocean. He still didn't sleep well, but he rested.
Vince held up well - better than Dom had expected. He complained less than Dom thought he would; he just stayed, and Dom was infinitely grateful for that.
Dom didn't get another chance to talk to Brian, but from time to time he caught sight of his tail, or saw his shadow moving beneath the water.
On the fourth night, Dom woke to singing.
It pulled him up from sleep like a hand reaching and dragging him. The voice was beautiful - achingly impossibly beautiful. It made him want to stay suspended in whatever dream this was, and at the same time to crawl closer, to follow the sound wherever it led, to let it consume his soul entirely.
Something hit his side hard. Vince, elbowing him, his face pale in the dim light filtering through the tent fabric.
Dom gasped, the fog in his mind clearing just enough for reality to slam back into place. The song. It was Brian's voice. The warning.
The boats were here.
Vince was already moving, unzipping the tent flap and scrambling outside. Dom's limbs felt sluggish, his thoughts still tangled in the melody even as he forced himself to follow. Brian was still singing, the sound carrying across the water, and Dom understood now - really understood - just why it was said their songs were dangerous. He had been a fool to think he would've had Vince's strength if he'd heard this before, if he'd been standing on a beach alone with that voice calling to him. He would have walked right into the water without hesitation, even knowing the danger. He was certain of that now.
He stumbled out of the tent, his feet sinking into the cold sand. Vince was already on the phone, his voice low and urgent. Dom couldn't make out the words, but he assumed it was Leon, or the cops. He turned toward the horizon.
The singing stopped.
The absence of it felt like a physical loss, like something vital had been ripped away. He shook his head, trying to clear the lingering effect, and squinted into the darkness.
There. A shape on the water, low and dark. A boat, small enough to avoid radar, moving slowly toward the shore.
They stayed hidden, crouched behind the rocks. The boat would take a few more minutes to reach land. Dom's heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat.
Then he heard the crunch of gravel under tires, the soft thud of car doors closing. Footsteps, hushed voices, tense and hurried.
The boat's engine cut as it neared the shallows. Dom heard a man's voice, shaky and afraid. "I swear, there was singing. I'm not crazy! What if we get killed by one of those creatures?"
A second voice answered, cold and disdainful. "Stop being fucking scared of a damn fish, or I'll throw you out of the boat so you can meet it in person."
Dom's jaw clenched. He risked a glance over the rocks.
Three men were climbing out of the boat, pulling it partway onto the sand. Approaching them were six figures, three of them stumbling forward - blindfolded, gagged, hands bound with rough cord. Two men and a woman. They were trying to resist, jerking against their captors' grips, but fear and restraints made their movements weak and uncoordinated.
"Okay, this was the last pickup from here," the leader said, his voice carrying clearly in the still night air. "Next time we move further down the coast. Too dangerous to stay in one place too long."
They began forcing the captives onto the boat. One of the men - the one who'd complained about the singing - kept glancing nervously at the water, as if expecting something to rise up and drag him under.
Dom leaned close to Vince, keeping his voice barely above a whisper. "We should follow the boat. Uncover the larger operation."
Vince shook his head immediately. "Santa Rosa's probably just a staging point. You're not gonna uncover anything by following them - this is way bigger than that. Plus, how do you plan on following a boat without being noticed? The ocean's wide open. You take a boat, they see you just as clearly as you see them, and we're all screwed. Worse, they might throw the captives overboard."
Dom's fists clenched in the sand, but Vince was right. Following them would be suicide, and it wouldn't save anyone. Their priority had to be the captives, here and now, and hoping the police could work the leads from there. That the rescue would expose the operation.
"Yeah, but what if the police don't arrive in time?" Dom's voice was tight with frustration. "They'll take a few more minutes at least. What if they just look at the ocean and see nothing? By the time they get a boat, it'll be too late."
"Maybe I should've called the marine cops," Vince muttered. "Or maybe they're the ones coming. I don't know."
Too many maybes. Dom watched as the last captive was shoved into the boat. The men were getting ready to leave, pushing the vessel back toward deeper water.
"We have to do something," Dom said. "Make them lose time."
"Dom, no-"
But Dom was already moving, using the rocks for cover as long as he could before breaking into the open.
Vince cursed under his breath.
"Hey!" Dom said out loud.
Everything froze. The men at the boat turned, their faces caught between shock and fury.
"Shit, there's someone!" That was the frightened one, his voice cracking.
The leader barked at the captives to shut up as they started making muffled sounds behind their gags, trying to scream for help through the fabric.
The third man raised a gun, the barrel catching the moonlight. "Hands up."
Dom's hands went up slowly. His heart was racing, but he kept his expression as steady as he could.
The leader's eyes moved past Dom, scanning the darkness. "Your friend too."
Damn it.
Vince stepped out, hands raised, joining Dom on the open sand. The goal had been to stall for time, to keep the boat here long enough for the police to arrive. If they ended up dead, that wouldn't be very useful.
"Police are on their way," Dom said, forcing his voice to stay level. "They've been tracking you for weeks. Santa Rosa's already compromised. You're done."
The man with the gun didn't lower it. "You're bluffing."
"Am I?" Dom took a step forward, ignoring his fear. "How else would I know about Santa Rosa? About the truck waiting there? You think I'm guessing?"
Doubt flickered across the gunman's face. Just for a second, but Dom saw it.
The frightened one started panicking again, his voice rising, but the leader cut him off with a sharp gesture. He stepped toward Dom, his expression unreadable in the shadows. "Get them on the boat. Now."
Bodies in the ocean. That's what they'd become soon. Evidence disappeared.
When Dom and Vince didn't move, the gunman fired.
The shot cracked through the night, sand exploding near Dom's feet. He flinched hard, his ears ringing.
"Next one goes through your chest," the gunman said calmly. "Move."
Dom looked at Vince. Vince's face was pale, but he had that expression - the one that said I'm going to pretend I'm not scared even though I'm terrified. Dom was pretty sure he had the same look right now.
They approached the boat. The gunman grabbed Dom roughly and shoved him forward. Dom stumbled, his knees hitting the hard bottom of the boat, pain shooting up his legs. Vince landed beside him a second later with a grunt.
The engine roared to life. The boat lurched forward, and Dom cursed silently, his mind racing through options that didn't exist.
"Don't move an inch," the leader said, his voice flat.
Vince looked at Dom, and this time he wasn't hiding how scared he was. His eyes were wide, his breathing shallow.
Then came a hiss. High, shrilling, wrong. It came from the ocean, from everywhere and nowhere, and the boat rocked violently. Dom was thrown against the side, Vince crashing into him. The captives tumbled across the deck.
The frightened man shouted, stumbling as the entire vessel tilted hard to one side. There was a loud crack - wood splintering somewhere below - and then another impact, harder this time.
The boat began to list dangerously.
"What the hell-" The gunman spun, searching the water, his weapon swinging wildly.
Another piercing hiss, closer now. Not quite human, not quite animal. Something in between, something that made Dom's skin crawl even though he knew who it was.
"It's the monsters!" the frightened man screamed. "I told you I heard them sing! They want to eat us!"
The boat rocked again, harder. Dom grabbed the rail and looked over.
A flash of silver-blue. A tail, sleek and powerful, disappearing into the dark water. Then another. Then a third.
One of the merfolk hit the boat again.
The impact was massive. The entire vessel flipped completely, throwing everyone into the water.
The cold was a shock, stealing Dom's breath. He surfaced, gasping, salt water burning his eyes and throat. Around him, chaos - shouting, splashing, the sharp crack of gunfire.
The gunman was firing blindly into the ocean. Dom saw the water around him churn, and then he was gone. Pulled under so fast his scream cut off mid-sound. He didn't surface again.
Dom saw the three captives struggling, their bound hands making it impossible to swim.
The frightened man was screaming, trying to swim for shore. He didn't make it. Dom watched as something lunged from below, fast and precise, and dragged him into the depths. His scream was swallowed by water.
Dom kicked hard, swimming toward the nearest captive, a man, thrashing weakly. Vince was already pulling the gag off another one, working frantically at the blindfold. Dom grabbed the third, a woman, keeping her head above water while he tore at the fabric covering her mouth.
They were terrified. All three of them. They had heard the screams, the hissing from the merfolk, the sounds of gunshots.
"You're safe," Dom said, his voice hoarse. "You're safe. We've got you. The merfolk aren't the enemy."
The woman's eyes were wild with fear, but she nodded, trying to believe him.
Only the leader remained now. Dom could see him in the water nearby, his face bone-white with terror, his head whipping around desperately.
Brian surfaced a few feet away, flanked by two other merfolk. They moved together, forming a circle around the leader, cutting off any escape, hissing at him.
Dom heard Vince make a small, strangled sound - not quite fear, not quite awe. The three merfolk were close now, close enough that Dom could see the details: the way their ear fins flared with agitation, the way their eyes reflected the moonlight like mirrors, the rows of teeth visible when they opened their mouths.
"What do you want?!" the leader screamed, his voice breaking. "I never hurt you! This is none of your business! I'm on your side!"
"Our kind is killed because of your actions," one of the merfolk said. The voice was calm, matter-of-fact.
"Confess to your kind what you did," the second one added.
The leader's gaze darted between them, wild and desperate. "Are you crazy? They'll kill me if I talk-"
"And we'll make you wish you were dead if you don't," Brian said.
His voice was quiet. Almost kind. But the threat underneath was crystal clear, and the teeth - sharp, curved, designed for tearing - worked very much in his favor.
"I'll talk!" The leader's voice cracked. "I'll talk! Don't kill me. I'll give them names, addresses, everything. As long as they promise they'll protect me."
Dom and Vince dragged the captives toward shore, their feet finally touching sand. The three freed prisoners collapsed onto the beach, coughing, shaking. Dom worked at the cords around their wrists while Vince removed the last of the blindfolds. The bindings were tight, cutting into skin, and Dom's numb fingers struggled with the knots.
Sirens cut through the night. Red and blue lights flashed in the distance, growing closer.
Leon arrived first, sprinting down from the road, out of breath, his face flushed. The police were right behind him, moving more cautiously, hands near their weapons.
The captives all started talking at once. Explaining, overlapping, desperate to be heard. They'd been taken from their homes, from parking lots, from evening walks. Forced into a truck, blindfolded, terrified. They talked about the men, about being brought here, about the two strangers and merfolk who'd saved them.
One of the officers looked toward the ocean, his expression wary. Dom could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hand hovered near his holster. "Those are the merfolk who helped capture their leader," Dom said, moving to stand between the officer and the water. "This man and his accomplices were kidnapping people, taking them to Santa Rosa, probably trafficking them further from there."
The officer didn't move closer to the water. None of them did. "And where are his accomplices?"
Dom shrugged, his clothes dripping water onto the sand. "Underwater."
One of the officers shivered visibly.
Dom turned and walked toward the water. Behind him, he heard one of the cops start to say something, "Wait, don't go into-"
But Dom kept moving. The cold bit at his skin again, familiar now, almost welcome. The two merfolk who'd been flanking Brian swam back, disappearing into deeper water. Brian stayed, pushing the leader ahead of him toward the shallows.
One officer took a deep breath and stepped into the water, just far enough to grab the leader as Brian released him. The man was shaking violently, his teeth chattering. The officer hauled him onto the beach and snapped handcuffs around his wrists.
"You'll need to come with us," another officer called to Dom. Dom nodded, reluctant to leave but knowing they'd need full statements, evidence - everything.
One of the captives - the woman Dom had helped - walked carefully toward the water's edge. She stopped just where the waves touched the sand, looking at Brian with eyes that were still red from crying but clear now, focused.
"Thank you," she said, her voice shaky but sincere.
Brian retreated slightly, only his face visible above the waterline. He didn't speak, just gave a small nod of acknowledgment.
"If the merfolk hadn't intervened, the boat would've gotten away," Vince said to the officers, his voice exhausted and his body trembling from the cold. "These people are only alive because of them."
One of the captives nodded emphatically. "Yes, they helped us!"
The beach slowly emptied as an ambulance arrived and the paramedics began checking the captives. The leader was shoved into a police car, and officers began photographing the scene, what was left of the boat.
"That was insane," Vince said quietly, watching the ambulance pull away.
"Yeah," Dom agreed, still hip-deep in the water.
Leon smiled faintly. "But it worked."
Dom turned back toward Brian.
"Thank you," he said. Then, with a tired smile, he added, "I think it would have been the end of us without your help."
Brian's expression softened, some of the wariness leaving his features. Then he did something Dom didn't expect.
He moved closer, rising out of the water more than usual, and closing the distance between them until only a few feet of shallow water separated them. He leaned forward, carefully, and gently bumped his nose against Dom's.
The touch was brief. Tentative. Warm despite the cold water.
Dom froze, his heart stuttering in his chest, his breath catching. Every thought in his head vanished except the sensation of that contact, the trust it implied.
Brian pulled back slowly, his blue eyes searching Dom's face. "I hope that even now that it's finished, you'll come back to the shore sometimes."
"Yeah, I will," Dom said without hesitation. "Every week, if you want."
Brian's smile was small but genuine. "I'd like that."
Then he dove, his tail flashing silver-blue in the moonlight, catching the glow from the police lights before disappearing beneath the surface. Gone.
Dom stood there, feeling the ghost of that touch against his skin. His nose tingled where Brian had pressed against it.
When he finally turned and began walking back toward the shore, Vince was staring at him with wide eyes, his mouth slightly open.
"Did he just-" Vince stopped, searching for words. "Did he just… nose‑boop you?"
Dom shrugged quickly, looking just as lost as Vince sounded, but there was a warmth spreading through his chest. He felt pleased. Confused and pleased.
Leon laughed, walking over and clapping a hand on his shoulder. "That was a kiss, you know. Merfolk don't kiss like humans do. Nose bumps, nuzzles, holding hands - that's how they show affection."
Dom's eyes went wide, his face feeling hot despite the cold night air.
Vince shook his head, grinning despite his exhaustion. "Of course. Of course you'd be the one to win the heart of a merfolk."
Dom looked back at the ocean, at the dark water where Brian had disappeared. The waves rolled in steadily, patient and eternal, hiding an entire world beneath their surface.
He smiled.
:::
END