Chapter 2: Blood in the Water

The life went out of his eyes so fast, it barely seemed real. I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a choked gasp. Somewhere behind me, Travis cursed, and Savannah’s footsteps echoed on the stairs.

We rushed into the room and found it empty except for the blood-soaked sheets. The lower-level bedroom was sealed—portholes latched, no way out but the door. Where was the mermaid? How could something so big just vanish?

It didn’t make sense. I checked every corner, every window, half-expecting her to leap out at us. Nothing.

The scene was horrific. All sorts of tools Ethan had collected were scattered on the floor, every one stained with coppery blood. The sheets were so soaked they barely looked like fabric. The air reeked of iron and salt, enough to make you gag.

It was like something out of a slasher movie. I pressed my hand over my mouth, trying not to retch. The tools—hooks, knives, even a damn fish scaler—looked like they belonged in a torture chamber, not a yacht.

“Jesus, ugh...” My throat burned.

The word slipped out before I could stop it. Travis just grunted, but I saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of the mermaid—or maybe just a way out.

Hearing the noise, Savannah came in. But the moment she saw the mess, she doubled over, dry-heaving, eyes watering.

She clung to the doorframe, knuckles white, shoulders shaking. For a moment, I thought she might pass out, but she straightened up, wiped her mouth, and glared at the mess like she could will it away.

Travis, unfazed, picked up a slim, gold-plated rod from the floor and sniffed the tip, his eyes dark and unreadable.

He looked almost curious, like he was trying to figure out what happened, or maybe just deciding what to do next. There was something cold in the way he moved, like he’d already made up his mind about what needed to be done.

I covered my mouth and nose, fighting nausea. “I guess Ethan got too rough.” Then, the explanation tumbled out. “The mermaid fought back. We have to find her.”

I could barely get the words out, my throat raw from the stench. Still, I tried to sound calm, rational, like maybe we could still fix this if we just kept our heads.

Travis cut me off, impatient. “Maybe she slipped back into the water, yeah?”

He sounded annoyed, almost bored, like this was just another mess he’d have to clean up for Ethan. But there was a flicker of fear in his eyes, too—like he knew, deep down, that things were about to get a whole lot worse.

I shook my head, my tone serious. “Mermaids hold grudges. She’ll want revenge and won’t leave the yacht so easy. When we find her, don’t start anything. They’re vicious—you don’t want to provoke one. We’ll quietly get her back into the ocean. If not, we’re all toast.”

I tried to make my voice steady, to sound like I knew what I was talking about. But the truth was, I was just as scared as everyone else. The old stories ran through my head—tales of sailors torn apart, of ships found drifting, empty except for blood and broken dreams.

Before I finished, Travis started whistling—a wolf whistle—and digging through boxes. “Hey, pretty fish, where you hiding? Don’t you want a real man? Let me show you how it’s done.”

His voice was mocking, almost gleeful. I wanted to slap him, to scream at him to stop, but I knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Travis never listened to anyone but himself.

I frowned, disgusted, and turned to Savannah. “Let’s split up. You check upstairs, I’ll check the bridge.”

We exchanged a look—hers was sharp, calculating, mine probably just tired. There was a silent agreement between us: whatever happened, we’d watch each other’s backs. Or at least, we’d try.

Savannah had mostly recovered. She was still pale, but her eyes were sharp again. She walked out, and as she passed Ethan’s corpse, she stomped hard on his face, her voice cold and dripping with satisfaction. “Serves you right, you fat bastard.”

The sound of her shoe connecting with his jaw echoed in the silence. For a second, I almost laughed. Savannah, always so put-together, now spitting venom at the man she’d once called hers. It was brutal, but honest. I guess the ocean strips you down to what you really are.

I didn’t say anything—just found it darkly funny. Savannah used to be the darling of the college dance team—beautiful, gentle, a mix of innocence and seduction. Who’d have guessed, you know, on the second day of school, she’d climb into Ethan’s Porsche? To keep his attention, she’d done all kinds of wild things in cars and classrooms. Ethan loved to brag, always posting videos in the group chat. I mean, a girl who’d strip for a designer bag—why pretend to be pure?

The memory stung, sharp as saltwater in a cut. I remembered the way Savannah smiled at everyone, how easy it was to fall for her. But I also remembered the way she’d laugh at my jokes, only to turn around and leave with Ethan the moment he snapped his fingers. Money talks, and on King Street, it screams.

Snapping out of it, I searched the bridge for any sign of the mermaid. But everything was neat, untouched, not a trace of forced entry. I headed out, planning to check the upper deck.

My heart pounded in my chest as I moved through the shadows. Every creak of the boat sounded like footsteps, every whisper of wind made me jump. Something was watching. I told myself it was just nerves, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching me.

But as soon as I stepped out, I heard a rhythmic noise from the yacht’s port side—like someone panting hard. I grabbed the baseball bat I’d found earlier and crept toward the sound. One step, two steps, three—I saw them.

The moonlight was sharp, almost blue, cutting through the mist and painting everything in silver and shadow. My grip tightened on the bat, my knuckles aching. I edged closer, holding my breath, praying I wasn’t too late.

Under the pale moonlight, two figures were tangled on the deck. The mermaid’s neck was chained with iron. With every movement, the chain pulled tight, and she let out muffled cries of pain. Then, the barbed collar dug in as her body slumped.

The sight was brutal, animal. Blood pooled beneath them, the chain glinting in the moonlight. I felt sick, but I couldn’t look away. The mermaid’s eyes met mine, wide and wild, pleading for something I wasn’t sure I could give.

She was covered in wounds, bleeding everywhere. Suddenly, she looked up at me, her eyes glassy and direct. At the same time, she stuck out her delicate tongue and traced it along Travis’s ear. Then, without warning, she bit off his entire ear.

The sound—wet and sharp—snapped me out of my trance. Copper on the air. Travis howled, stumbling back, blood streaming down his neck. The mermaid spat the ear onto the deck, her mouth twisted in a snarl. For a moment, I thought she’d kill him right then and there.

“Ah!”

Travis screamed in agony. “You crazy bitch! Think you’re special?” He clutched his bleeding ear, and with his other hand, yanked the chain tighter around her neck. The mermaid choked, letting out a sobbing wail, tears streaming down her face. Her tongue lolled out, her eyes begging me, full of tears.

I hesitated, torn between running and fighting, but my legs wouldn’t move. The mermaid’s gaze pinned me in place, desperate and accusing. I could feel her pain like it was my own.

Something in me twisted. Stupid. I wanted to step forward and help her. But just as I moved, a hand grabbed my shirt.

“Miles, don’t go over there.” She was panting.

It was Savannah. “I don’t think that thing’s a mermaid at all.”

Her words hit me like a bucket of cold water. I blinked, trying to process what she was saying. If she was right, everything we thought we knew was wrong.

Huh? I didn’t get it. To avoid drawing attention, I followed Savannah up to the upper deck so we could talk in private. Behind us, the two figures didn’t stop. Maybe the smell of blood brought out something savage in Travis. Just as the mermaid was about to die, Travis loosened the chain and started another round of cruelty.

We slipped away, moving as quietly as we could. My hands shook as I closed the door behind us. I could still hear the sounds from the deck—grunts, sobs, the rattle of chains. It made my skin crawl.

Savannah led me into her room and closed the door. She pulled a shimmery piece of fabric from her pocket, her face grave. “Look.”