Chattering Monkeys

Mechanical Bunny · Site Admin Joined: 19 Apr 2007 Posts: 223

Okay, so this is a random story. Thought I'd kinda do a share thing like Andrea does. This has nothing to do with anything. The idea came up when I was trying to think of a naughty webcomic plotline. But uh, since I've been feeling like writing, yeah. This resulted. Enjoy? (BTW, there's sex. It's not like it'll kill us if the site gets shut down because of it... Not that they'd notice most likely.)

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The wind was blowing strongly, whipping the smell of salt through his wildly tousled head of brown hair. He gripped the railing of the ship and leaned, hunched, enjoying the dawn's splash of colors on the horizon. Today they were hauling up the line, and if they were lucky, their efforts for the past few weeks would be complete. Brad took in a deep breath of the ocean air and turned to his crew, bright-eyed and ready to work. This was the last day; he'd be heading home soon. They just had to finish what they'd started.

They pulled up all the netting, spilling a variety of fish onto the deck. The flurry of activity, of both the fishes and the men, resulted in an ordered chaos. Brad smiled to himself, and helped haul in more line. That's when he saw it: the biggest "fish" he had ever seen. The whole crew seemed to stop whatever they were doing when they saw this flash of color land on the deck. Yellow, tan, green, blue, red. The exotic form started to flop and struggle. One of the men began to whoop excitedly, and the whole crew soon erupted into yelling and cheering. This was more than they had hoped for.

A mermaid.

Brad approached the struggling form in the netting. He stood over it and watched in fascination. Mermaids didn't last long out of water. Despite their ability to morph into a human form and breathe air, they did not adjust quickly enough in these conditions to survive. The transition from fins, gills, and who-knows-what to human legs, working lungs, and whatever else could sometimes take hours, even a whole day. This much Brad knew. But he daren't let the creature into the water to live long enough to adjust, since it would be gone in the blink of an eye. It had happened to many a sailor in the past. Their bodies sold very well, though not as much as they did alive. It was such a shame.

The mermaid looked up, eyes and face streaming with water from its bright blonde hair, and Brad was frozen in shock. It wasn't a mermaid, it was a merman. It had to be; the merman flipped onto his back as he struggled, flopping much like a fish and straining his hands against the netting, his green eyes flickering about in pure panic. The lower part of his body was like a fish, though contoured as if surrounding legs; it shone with a blue light that was fascinating to watch in the hot summer sun. At the tip, on the fins used for propulsion, was a striking red. Another thing shined in the light, on top of his head; a red gem set into a ring of metal, which rested on his forehead and disappeared into his hair, tangled in like a crown.

All this happened within a moment's breath. Brad took the air into his lungs, suddenly unable to feel anything but the life-giving sensation. The air now mostly smelled like fish, and less of the sea.

The body of the merman thrashed onto its side, and a violent spasm ripped through. Water burst out of his mouth, followed by a loud CRACK. The merman began to writhe, and grab at whatever was in reach. Brad quickly stepped back, careful not to slip on any fish. The rest of the crew was also just as mesmerized as a crackling noise resounded around the boat. The bright blue, green, and red of the tail began to melt away from the creature lying on the deck. The change was brutal: more spasms, and cracking, and hacking, and then--a deep breath, taken in by wet lungs. The merman coughed loudly and long, and suddenly Brad realized he was looking at a naked man lying in red water, surrounded by suffocating fish which continued to flap. The bloody water stained his whole lower body, running in rivulets onto the floor.

"Did--did anyone time that?" Brad asked, looking at the other men. Everyone looked at each other.

"That had to be like a minute!" piped up one man.

"Boys, we're going to be rich."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The crew was quick to cut away the netting around the merman and to manhandle him below deck, into a rusty old cage with no lock. Brad himself took up guard, mostly just to study the creature. It--he--was so human-like; he watched everything with wide eyes and clutched the bars as he sat on his legs. But he didn't say a thing. A few times he tried opening his mouth, but only a hissing, gurgling sound resulted.

Brad was mesmerized by this thing... His hair was so bright but still yellow, like the purest rays of the sun. His eyes were the richest hue of green he had ever seen, and they reflected light like no human eyes ever could. He noticed the merman sometimes blinked with a third eyelid, a clear one, that went sideways, and if he did blink with the ones made of skin, it was exaggerated, and deliberate. The young man was surely mesmerizing, and undeniably...beautiful.

"I thought mermen were supposed ta be ugly big fishies with an 'umanoidy form 'n lots o' spikes?" said Andy, a member of the crew. He had made a racket walking down the stairs, but Brad had hardly noticed. He had been watching the reaction of the merman to the noise. By the time Andy was done talking, the creature was rubbing his ears and shaking his head.

"Yeah," was all Brad could muster.

"But look'et 'im. Gotsa junk down dere alsright. Be a hit wit' da ladies, sure ya know." Andy guffahed at that, and Brad had to follow suit. Yes, Brad had noticed that.

"Maybe we should dress him?" Brad mused.

"Dosn' look borthered much, 'ey... And look, he's got no hair, cept what's on his head. Surpris'd 'e 'as eyebrows, I do."

Brad hit him with the back of his palm right on his chest. Andy guffahed and took the blow, stumbling back a half-step.

Brad followed up with shouting. "Go back to school and learn some English, you snotty-nosed bag of lard!"

"Oh, learnin' 'ow ta talk? Ta da fishies, now, 'ey? W'as that gotta do wit' a t'ing?"

Brad shook his head. Andy wandered off, probably to go back to work. He'd had his fill of the sight of the merman. But Brad had not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, Brad was sitting with a book, keeping an ear open for the merman's escape. It never came, of course, even though there was nothing stopping the man from getting out. Whenever he looked up, the bright green eyes were trained on him. The silent prisoner had stopped clutching the bars but kept up a vigil between the metal obstructions. Brad contented himself with the book, and no one begrudged him that--to keep watch over the thing that would bring them a fortune, ten times as much as a good year's worth of fish... that's what he was doing.

A chance like this came once every hundred years, or so they said.

Brad tired of the book after awhile, though. He put it down on his lap and looked back at the cage, right straight into that brilliant green. He recovered, and dared to ask, "What's your name, huh, merman? Can't you speak?"

"Huh." The merman breathed out loudly, exaggeratingly. He seemed just as surprised as Brad. "Speak," he said, clearly and in an almost perfect imitation as Brad, with the questioning intonation and all.

"Well, aren't you clever?"

"Well, aren't you clewer?"

"Clever."

"CleWVER."

"CleVER."

"Cle...VVVVVV...er."

Brad laughed, and the merman followed suit; a genuine, though nervous, laugh. It was a happy sound, and it made Brad smile. He hadn't known that mermaids could laugh. He didn't know anything about them, except that they were mermaids. It was instinct to a sailor to identify the different creatures of the sea. It was natural, like the direction of the wind and where to drop anchor.

"You're a fast learner, merman."

"Danil."

"What? Danielle?"

"Danil."

"Is that your name?"

"Is that yourg name?"

"Danil... You mind if I call you Dan?"

"Danil."

"Haha, okay then, fine."

"Okay then, fine."

This went on for some minutes, and Brad immediately understood that he was dealing with an extremely intelligent animal. He picked up on words faster than anyone he had ever seen, and he had been to a lot of places and seen a lot of people. He even seemed to grasp the meanings not after very long, with a few repetitions. They talked until a guy came down from up top and caught them conversing, or rather, Danil aping what Brad said.

"Whoa, it can talk?" asked the crew member.

Brad stood. The other man scratched his head and shifted his stance. "I got voted out to watch the piggy bank, you gettin' some grub and taking a rest? We got the last of the haul in and it's gettin' dark."

"Yeah, sure," Brad said, and walked to the kitchen, leaving the merman behind with the crew member. He looked back for another glimpse, and saw those yearning green orbs staring right at him as if pleading him to come back. He shook his head to himself and moved on.

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This story isn't moving in the direction you probably think it's moving, and I already have the groundwork laid out. Neutral

Mechanical Bunny · Site Admin Joined: 19 Apr 2007 Posts: 223

More? >dies<

BTW, I have no knowledge of ships except for what I see in movies. Therefore, this probably sucks. But I don't care much.

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“Where'd it go?”

“What happened, man?! Tell us!”

There was a commotion of raised voices, loud, stomping footsteps, and the disgusting sound of someone vomiting. This was what Brad woke up to, groggily. It was normal for there to be some commotion from the men who stayed up late, despite working hard, and from the one or two men of the night crew who kept an eye on the ship in the dark. However, this was no ordinary commotion, and it woke him immediately.

Brad rushed out in his night clothes, which consisted of a button up white shirt and loose cardigan pants. When the crew saw their leader, they hysterically tried to relay what they thought had happened. Brad ignored them, and found himself staring as if in shock at the empty mermaid cage.

He lifted up a hand and shouted over the knell, “Where is the merman?”

“Well, the thing spit something in Joe's face, and he's vomiting up--” “We don't know--” “He ran out this way--”

“Shut up! Shut up everyone! Find him!! Just go find him! Search the ship! Search! Go!” He waved his arms, and took up a lantern, and led the search. After a brief look in the only handful of rooms that composed the saloon, he ran for the stairs. His heart sank as he reached the deck. It was lit up dimly by the moon, but it was hard to make out anything much past the candlelight he carried. A night crewman approached him. “What's the commotion, sir?” he asked, blinking in the shuttered lamplight.

“The merman got out. Have you seen him?”

“Uh, no sir. Maybe he's still below deck? How long has he been out?”

Brad waved off the questions and headed back below deck. He continued to search for half an hour with the others, but no one found a shred of evidence pointing to where the merman could be. There were only so many places to hide in their rather small ship. There was a kitchen, barely big enough for two people to stand in, the captain’s quarters just big enough for a bed and a table, and the sleeping quarters, with the bunk beds the rest of the men slept in.

After searching through every nook and cranny, Brad shook his head, and openly admitted defeat to his crew. The creature had gotten away, somehow, and was now frolicking back in the sea. Good for it, but not good for Brad and his crew.

Everyone headed back to bed with heavy hearts. Brad walked into the captain's quarters and hung the lantern on a hook by the door. Sighing, paying no mind to anything in his room, he walked over to a table. Being that he was now awake, he doubted he could fall back asleep. As captain, he had a good-sized table strewn with maps, navigation tools, star charts, and bottles of ink. He began to dig through the haphazard pile, trying to find the quill, and found himself sighing again. “Millions, dammit, millions!” he said to himself, shaking his head.

“Millions.”

Brad jumped and whirled around, strewing papers everywhere. Startled, he looked at the source of the noise, and there was the merman, lying on his bed. In the dim light, Brad found himself frozen yet again by the pure pale skin and the blonde strands strewn over the merman's body and over the pillows. He was clutching Brad's pillow and lying on his stomach. He was peeking over the bundle with his brilliant eyes, now reflective in the partial darkness of the medium-sized room. Brad snapped his mouth shut and recovered himself. Suddenly, he began to laugh.

Of course, he thought, the last place you'd look. This was probably the first place he came, but I didn't see him. And we never looked in here!

He strode over to the bed and grabbed the merman's wrist. He lifted him and admonished him with a finger. “Bad! What did you do to Joe?”

Danil just curled up on the bed even more and looked frightened. “Do to Joe?” he copied, seemingly trying to appease Brad's sudden anger.

Brad sighed and let him go, and paced away. “Well, you can't do that again. I'll have to keep you in here. My men are incompetent...”

And so he manhandled Danil off his bed and ankle-cuffed his leg to the opposite bedpost. Once done, he decided he would tell the crew in the morning. Smirking as he imagined what their faces would look like, he blew out the candle. In the sudden darkness, he made his way to his bed and got in. After a few minutes of being settled, he looked down. Peeking over the end of the bed were the merman's eyes, glowing like a cat's in the dark. Unnerved, he said, “Go to sleep.”

“Go do sleep.”

Brad snickered to himself and got settled on his side, trying to ignore the fact that Danil was probably still staring at him. He supposed the merman could see in the dark, since they lived in the rather dark ocean. There was a little bit of moonlight coming in the small round window, probably enough for him to see.

As Brad lay there, waiting for sleep, he wondered what had caused Danil to come close enough to the surface to get caught in the fishing net, and what his life had been like before. It was going to be very different from now on.

************************************************

Brad wasn't even aware of being asleep when he woke up to movement on the bed. He heard the clinking of metal, and the shifting of cloth. He felt air like the covers had been taken off, and something warm next to him. He tentatively touched it and felt it react, snuggling closer to him. “Danil?” he asked the form, and the form purred back. It was more of a gurgling, but without the liquid. Weirded out, Brad pushed the form away, but Danil mewled pitifully.

“No good,” Danil said, pouting. Amused and a little surprised, Brad asked back, “No good?”

“No good,” Danil said firmly. He snuggled up to Brad again.

“Look, I'm not going to sleep in the same bed as a guy, much less a creature of the sea... So you're going to have to go back to the floor.” He pushed and prodded Danil until he had forced him off the bed, and then resolutely pulled his blankets back up. He ignored the pitiful crying noises it made, and laid back. When the crying didn't work, Danil tried pawing at Brad's feet, making the captain violently kick it off.

After it quieted down, Brad found himself yet again asleep.

Embarassed

Warning!

When he awoke, the first thing he felt was pleasure down below. He moaned lightly and shifted, groggily waking up from a deep sleep, and unaware of what was happening. His half-asleep mind just let the pleasure build, the heat encasing his cock massaging him. The shreds of his dream remained, of a beautiful woman with long blond hair and green eyes, in a kimono of all things, seducing him, and finally a scene of them together in bed. He felt the long blonde hair in his fingers, and he found himself bucking into the inviting mouth before he was fully awake.

Then he finally remembered he was still on the ship with only men as part of his crew. His eyes snapped open, and he looked down. The head he was holding, the mouth that was around his cock, belonged to the merman. “Ah!” he said, startled, and Danil looked up, easing the cock out of his mouth. “What are you doing?” he asked, breathless.

“Brad feels good,” Danil whispered, using his hand to massage the erection, his spit working as lubricant.

“Fuck!” Brad hissed, and bucked his hips again without meaning to. He was already this far, and was still lost in sleep to some extent, or else he would have freaked out, right? “No, bad Danil!”

The hurt look Brad could barely make out on the merman's face made his stomach drop.

“Bad?” Danil said, disappointed. “I do better!” Before Brad could react, his mouth was sucking Brad’s cock back in his mouth. The sudden onslaught of pleasure made the human throw his head back. His breath hissed. It felt like the merman had two tongues, which massaged his whole length in varying degrees. The suction of the merman’s throat, too, was phenomenal. He had never felt anything like it before.

It was too late, he couldn’t stop the merman. It was already this far, so why should he have to stroke it out like every other night? He let it happen, let the merman suck him off. He felt his orgasm come roaring in like a tsunami and he had to measure his breath so he wouldn’t cry out. The wood doors and walls were rather thin, and someone was bound to hear if he made a sound.

“Ah, I’m coming,” he warned Danil breathlessly. “Fuck.” Danil didn’t stop for a moment, and soon Brad grunted, squirting come deep down the other man’s throat. His back arched, and the sucking, and therefore his orgasm, continued. His body shook and he covered his mouth with his hand to prevent sounds.

Shocked

It's over

When it was finally over, he felt dazed. He relaxed, limp on the bed. “My god, that was great,” he said, panting.

“Great?” Danil asked, looking hopefully at Brad’s face.

“Very good,” Brad said, smiling at the childish expression. Danil smiled back and fell on Brad’s chest, hugging him. Brad grunted at the impact, but was still too limp from his orgasm to shove him off. Mainly, he was a little disgruntled at the sight of Danil’s teeth; the damn fish boy had razor sharp incisors lining his mouth! Well, one could assume now that mermaids ate fish…

How’d he do such an awesome job with teeth like that?

“Ugh, get off. You smell like fish,” Brad complained, lightly pushing at Danil. Obviously, Danil didn’t understand, though he understood “fish,” because he sat up and exclaimed, “Fish!” He then put his hand on his stomach. This also put him straddling Brad, who was still de-pantsed. Blushing furiously, Brad yelled, “Get off!” and struggled with the merman. Danil was stubborn, and surprisingly strong.

“No!” he said, adamantly, fixing Brad with a glare. Brad suddenly gulped, wondering if the treatment Joe got—poisoned somehow—would now happen to him. Exasperated, he asked, “Why not?”

“Not! Fish for great,” he said, pointing at Brad’s crotch. “Or great for good sleep.”

Brad sat back and regarded the merman. Damn, he was a crafty fish.

Reminded, Brad abruptly pulled up his cardigan pants and laid back down. “Fine, I’ll get you some fish. You’re worth a million times more than a fish, anyway. Now get back down.”

Danil eyed him warily, but obediently got down and sat on the floor by the foot of Brad’s bed. Brad smoothed down his hair and got up. There was barely a speck of sunlight coming in the window, so he figured it was very early morning. It was about time to get up and lead the crew in their daily tasks, so he pulled on his day clothes, ignoring the fact the merman was probably watching, and headed out.

*****************************

The commotion the crew raised when he told them the merman had been hiding under his bed (which was a lie, whatever) was infectious. They sung bawdy songs all day long, and took turns looking at the merman shackled to their captain’s bed. The next thing he did after telling them was getting a fish and some extra pants from a crew member for the creature. The joyous look on Danil's face made Brad smile lightly as he handed him the fish. The creature tore into the flesh like it had been starving, and seeing something being eaten raw made Brad’s stomach turn. Even so, he helped the merman put on the pants, though Danil never ceased his onslaught. While Danil did not appreciate the pants, he was too busy with the fish to protest.

Afterwards he watched Danil finish eating and shook his head. The thing had been starving alright, and there wasn't but a few bones left. He took them with him to the deck and threw them over the side of the ship. Then proceeded to work.

Later in the day, Brad came below to get some lunch when he overheard one of the men saying, “Look at ‘im, he keeps on takin’ off dose pants!” The trio then snickered. Frowning, Brad yelled at them to get back to work, and watched them scurry off. He approached his room and looked in. It looked like someone had given Danil a fish, and he was finishing up his meal. He had tugged the pants halfway down, just as the men had said. Sort of luckily, he was facing the wall, guarding his fish. His ass was bare, and his feet stuck out behind him. It was then that Brad noticed something. Or a few things. One, the creature’s feet were webbed, with rather sharp toenails. Second, his hands had nails resembling claws, that he used to rip open the fish. They were not as deadly looking in his human form, though Brad had not seen enough of Danil's true form to know that. There was also a shimmer of color on the merman's thigh. Brad approached to get a closer look.

There was a long diamond-shaped slash of scales on the sides of Danil’s thighs. It ranged from a burgundy red to deep sea blue. He hadn’t noticed it before. He bent down and touched it. It was flawlessly merged with the human skin, but was rough like fish scales. Danil shivered at the touch and looked back at Brad.

“Is this a mistake?” he asked, looking back at Danil.

“Is this a mistake?”

“Yeah, uh.. Bad?” he asked, giving up on words and touching the scales again.

Danil looked and tilted his head. “Bad? No... Me, Danil…” he trailed off and tentatively touched the top of Brad's hand. By the tone, Brad assumed that meant it was normal. The captain drew back and nodded. Again, he watched him eat in a sort of morbid fascination.

Once the fish was down with one last gulp, Brad admonished, “Put on your pants.” Danil looked at him imploringly, but Brad would have none of it. “No, you need your pants.”

“Need?”

“Need means something good, um… You just need it.”

Danil looked a little puzzled, but he complied. He seemed to have the hang of taking off and putting on his pants, though it must be a very foreign thing for mermaids to wear clothing. They didn’t need it underwater. Or at least it was impractical. But now that he was on land, he’d have to. Especially in human society.

The next week went rather a lot like this. Danil was rather well behaved for a sea creature, and seemed quite content to eat fish all day. He had a voracious appetite, and Brad suspected he was getting more fish than he, as the captain, should be aware of. Why the men were giving him more fish than necessary was a mystery to him. He supposed they were trying to take good care of their investment.

That was, until he caught one of the men with Danil when he was supposed to be on deck, but came back for something he immediately forgot of when he saw what was happening. The crew member was sitting on his bed with Danil on his knees in front of him. Danil's head was at his crotch and moving back and forth. Brad froze, and did a quick 180 before either of them saw him.

That was awkward.

He waited for the man to come out before acting surprised that the man was leaving the captain’s quarters. Upon seeing the captain, he hesitatingly explained he was feeding the merman, and dashed off. Brad walked in and folded his arms. Danil was feasting on a fish and didn’t notice him for a good minute before he looked up, his mouth never leaving his meal.

Brad didn’t know what to do. Should he scold it—him? Should he ignore the whole situation? Ask why this was happening? Brad sighed and went and sat on his bed, and rubbed his forehead. “You’re a headache, fish boy.”

“Danil,” came a muffled reply.

Brad sighed again and said, “Yeah, Danil.” He shook his head and tried to remember what he had come in here for. He looked around, and Danil watched him.

“Bad?” Danil asked, finishing up his meal rather fast. Brad looked at him, and shook his head. “No, not bad… It’s fine I guess.” He remembered he’d come in for a longer telescope and retrieved it. Without a pause he left, leaving Danil puzzled.

*************************************

Soon that was the least of his worries. They made port the next afternoon and had a busy time unloading and Brad was quite busy with arrangements. He was very explicit in telling the crew not to leak one word about the mermaid, or they’d be robbed blind. Instead, they were going to sneak him out and take him to the Trade headquarters in town to see what they could get for him. That was the plan. What he didn’t count on was the fact that each of the men no longer wanted to sell the creature, but rather keep him as their own slave.

He got an inkling of this when Joe asked him, “Why don’t we just keep him as a slave ourselves? We could train him to fish for us and everything.”

Brad looked at him incredulously. “Oh really? And what’s to stop him from going back home once you let him back in the sea?” He whacked him upside the head and added, “Use your brain! Don’t you want to be rich?”

Joe rubbed his head sheepishly and said, “Yeah…”

“Well then.” Brad walked off to continue his various jobs, but knew something was fishy.

*******************************************

Brad hated to do this to his men, but he armed himself with a dagger and donned a cloak. He borrowed a cloak for Danil and pulled up his hood, hiding his long hair and face from view. He snuck out with him at night when most of the men were asleep, and told the night crew he was taking Joe to the doctor to see if there were complications from the poison. With Danil’s hood up, they assumed it was Joe and agreed with him completely. In this way he got Danil out without detection.

As they approached the Trade Headquarters, he impulsively redirected Danil down a side alley. There, he had Danil stand still while he paced, rubbing his stubbly chin. “This is wrong, this is wrong,” he chanted while pacing. Not only was he going behind his crew’s back, but Danil… Every time he looked at Danil, he just imagined them killing him if the market happened to get a higher price for his dead parts rather than his living. Or he could be brutalized by work or raped as a sex slave for the rest of his life. Which would be rather short if that’s where this led him, since he looked so fragile.

“Wrong?” Danil asked.

“Yes. Bad. This is bad.”

“What this?”

Brad rubbed his head. He’d never thought twice about the slave trade before—it was normal in human communities to have all sorts of creatures as slaves, and in creature society there were human slaves (and other creatures for that matter). It was just a normal order, a normal constant battle between races. And the amount of money… oh god. He could retire before 30! This was a once in a lifetime deal.

He looked at Danil again, pausing, then began to pace again. “No, no, this is wrong. What am I gonna do?”

“Gonna do?” Danil mimicked. Danil continued to watch Brad pacing and mumbling, before he looked around at the buildings and touched the bricks tentatively. He traced the materials, looked at the ground. Then back at Brad who was looking quite miserable. Unable to bare this any longer, Danil touched him gently and stopped his pacing, then wrapped his arms around the other’s broad shoulders in a hug. Brad froze. Danil slid back. “Big, tall Brad,” Danil said, gently smiling up at him.

“You’ve learned so much this past week, Danil,” Brad said, smiling back, but it faltered. “Some things I don’t want you to learn, though. C’mon, let’s go back.”

************************************************

He heard it before he saw it. Men were shouting, and there was a general clanging, coming from the harbor. Hiding in the shadow of a tall building on the edge of the open space before the platform, Brad crouched with Danil, who was protectively behind him. What he saw made his heart sink. Finally, he could coherently make out the shouts. They were threats. In the light of torches men were stamping around the platform and around Brad's ship like fluttering bugs, shouting for Brad's crew to turn over the mermaid. A crew member he recognized as Joe (by his accent) was pleading for Brad and for mercy from the gangs of men. Brad clenched his fists.

Someone had told someone about the mermaid, despite Brad saying explicitly not to do so, and for this very reason! They had also probably planned to mutiny if he insisted on selling Danil. God dammit!

With a brilliant roar of power, a flame erupted on Brad's ship. Brad jumped up, staring wide-eyed as he fought the urge to run to his ship. It was all he owned in the world, though it was small and musty. More than that, it was his lifeblood. But Danil's presence behind him made him stay put, and he only watched in silent horror as the conflagration grew. It grew unnaturally fast; precipitated by human actions, by Brad's figuring.

Tears filling his eyes, Brad turned around, fists clenched, and put his back to his ship. He manhandled Danil to turn around with him and walk off. Silently, Danil followed, not even protesting the treatment.

All Brad could do was walk away.

Mechanical Bunny · Site Admin Joined: 19 Apr 2007 Posts: 223

It's not cliche, I swear! Well, mostly, but there's a different take on it. So go in unbiased please.

The dungeon was like a dark pit that smelled like mold and dust. Over the eons, water had cut etches downward in the stone walls as it dripped from cracks in the ceiling. The mold had infected each crack and dip so that the walls were slick with slime, offering no solid support lest you trip and fall. The only light was the torch the dungeon master, who led the way, held out to attempt to pierce the dark. He had a jolly protruding belly, but his face was anything but happy. A frown had been etched into his face, as if into wood, amplified by his thick bristly beard. His head was completely bald, and he wore the traditional uniform of the dungeon master, a thick wool coat with the county emblem stitched on the chest, covering a black t-shirt and black jeans.

Walking carefully behind him was a girl in her early adolescence. Her wavy brown hair hid part of her face as she stared intently at the moving ground. In her hands she held a gold chalice decorated with gems, which ostentatiously held a needle filled with a red liquid. Her gaze was focused past these odd objects onto the floor, so she could avoid rats and puddles. Her cloth shoes were no match for the wetness of the underground labyrinth, however, and they squished when she walked. She wore a plain pastel yellow dress, tied at the shoulders, and with a square neck.

The dungeon master paused to fumble at his belt to get to his ring of keys. He then ponderously looked through the dozens of keys, jingling them noisily the whole time, and finally found a long, golden key. On the end there was a large black gemstone, which Arnold the dungeon master grasped as he unlocked the thick steel door before him. Once it was unlocked, it took him a massive effort to swing it open. There was a whisper of wind from the open doorway, but otherwise it was an empty black hole of a space. Raishel peeked past his large form and saw a ramp with a gentle decline going down and down into the dark.

She shivered, chilled by the air. Luckily, her determination kept her going. The dark was not going to scare her! Even when she was left behind in the dark, as she was too slow for the dungeon master sometimes.

“Mr. Arnold! Mr. Arnold! Please wait for me!” she cried, her voice echoing in the narrow corridor and carrying amplified to Arnold’s ears.

“Hurry up, you little whelp!” he shouted back at her, but he waited for her nonetheless.

“There was a big puddle ‘cross the way, Mr. Arnold!” she protested when she reached him.

“Raishel, if you’re going to be doing this every week you’ve best get used to it,” he replied gruffly and began on his way again.

“Yes, sir,” Raishel said quietly, staring at the floor.

It felt like forever until they reached the door at the bottom of the ramp. It was a metal reinforced door surrounded by runes and symbols etched in warning on the walls, floor, and ceiling. There was a steel bar on the outside of the chamber, on Arnold and Raishel’s side. Raishel gulped when she saw it. “Mr. Arnold, I’m scared,” she whispered as he handed her the torch.

“Don’t be, he’s chained up so tight he can’t move. There’s nothing for you to worry about. You just do your job and get out. Remember, don’t talk to him.” Even his reassurances sounded like an admonishment. Raishel held the chalice and the torch as she watched Arnold heave the bar out of the fixture and place it propped beside the door. He then took the ring of keys from his belt from beneath his jacket, again, and set about unlocking every lock. It only took a few minutes, because he was practiced at it. He then pulled mightily at the handle until the door opened slowly with a loud, crunching, squealing noise.

“There ya are, go on in,” Arnold said to the little girl, breathing hard with his hands on his hips.

“What! You aren’t coming in with me?”

“Hell no, little girl. No offense, and there still aren’t nothing to be afraid of-- Just get on in there. It’s not my job ta do.”

Huffing indignantly, Raishel stomped inside the door. When she was inside all she could see was the floor ahead, even with the torch. Moving forward, all the while muttering about being braver than grown men, she ignored the sound of the door squealing closed, especially when she noticed the glint of metal up ahead. She walked slower as she again felt the fear grow in her chest, and began to shake, her breathing growing ragged. She bit her lip and continued to walk slower and slower.

It was then the girl felt the presence. She could hear breathing, and saw a dark bundle against the wall which mildly reflected the light. She held out the torch, which shook mightily. The light finally fell on the form attached to the wall. She gasped lightly and felt her knees wobble. She felt the urge to flee, which she indulged. When she was halfway back to the exit, she stopped and bent over, leaning the chalice on her leg, and breathed hard. She squeezed her eyes shut, then stood up straight. She then stalked back. “He’s chained up so tight he can’t move”, she remembered.

This time, she let her eyes wander over the form, and try to discern the person beneath. There were so many chains wrapped around and attached to his clothing and the wall, it was hard to tell. He was covered in a dark gray loony-jacket, which may have once been white, and pants seemingly made of straps constricting his legs and similarly chained to the wall. He was attached upright as if standing, but was flush against the wall, and covered in something white. Raishel realized it was coming from his head; his hair was so long it pooled on the floor. And it was pure white like an old person’s hair. His face was obscured by more than his hair. There was a human-form muzzle on his face, like the ones they used for humanoid slaves with sharp teeth. She could barely see past his hair, but she thought his eyes were closed.

The form was still and quiet. Raishel approached even closer. She noticed a torch bracket and reached on her tippy-toes to get the wood handle inside. She then took the chalice and grasped the needle inside with one hand, getting it ready, and put the cup on the floor. Find the pulse in his neck and put the syringe inside and push in the end just like your daddy showed you, said the nice lady. Raishel took a deep breath and reached up. Shaking, she touched a bare spot on his neck and felt for the pulse.

The man’s eyes opened, gleaming in the light, and she gulped. She was hoping he’d sleep throughout. They only opened a slit, enough for her to see his bright blue eyes. Their eyes met a moment, and she felt all her worry and fear disappear. They were kind eyes that begged her for something, which she guessed was freedom. Abruptly she felt a pulse beat beneath her finger, then again. Startled, she flung her hand off him and stumbled back a step. His eyes kept trained on her, the blue slits calm and just watching with slight interest. She reached up again, and felt the pulse beat, though weakly. She then brought the needle up and put the tip against his skin. His eyes continued to watch, and she couldn’t help but say, “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Remember, don’t talk to him.

She gasped and covered her mouth with her empty hand. Chagrined, she again felt for the pulse, and slipped the needle in. The man did not react. Then she pressed the end in, just as she was instructed, the red liquid shrinking. This did make him react. He wheezed and shifted within his binds. This startled Raishel, but she kept the needle in, only pausing in pushing it in. After he settled down, she did it again. This time he all out moaned past his muzzle, and pressed against the chains. They rattled, and Raishel was so frightened she pushed the needle in fast. She took it out and backed up. The prisoner threw his head back and closed his eyes as he struggled in the bindings.

Raishel was shaking again, and breathing raggedly. She retrieved the chalice and torch and set off at a run for the door. When she reached it she banged against it and shouted, “Arnold!” The door opened with a screech and she darted past.

*********************************************************************

Every week on the same day Raishel followed Arnold down to the lowest floor of the dungeon, which was hidden behind locks and reinforced doors. Each subsequent time she brought her own torch and carried the chalice with the syringe in one hand. Every week it got easier, until she started to look forward to going. After a few times, she even got bold, bragging of her job to anyone who would listen, and laughing at Arnold when he acted scared. What she didn’t say was how kind those eyes had seemed, and how easy it was to be brave when that was all she faced down in the “pit”. More importantly, what she didn’t ask was what that man had done to deserve being tied up so far below ground.

Now, she talked to him quietly, and almost imagined he responded. Sometimes it was like a silent conversation that floated in the air, making the air smell sweet and making her smile as she worked. In this way a year passed. Raishel bloomed within that time, becoming a new young woman, though still a child. Soon she insisted on going by herself, because Arnold was scared and only a hindrance. The council granted her that, letting her keep the keys needed to open the doors and the rights to go below alone. With this newfound power, Raishel snuck a rickety old chair down there and a couple of books. She would sit and read to him for hours. All the while she never learned his name, and did not know his crime, but he seemed so lonely and kind.

That yearning look in his eyes that had so struck her diminished with each visit until he looked at her with obvious happiness. His face brightened when she woke him and his eyes crinkled in a smile. The only thing that didn’t change with time was he always moaned when she gave him his injection. She wondered what was in it, but for the past year she had been wary to know that much, lest she blurt her knowledge and bring down the wrath of the council on her head.

However, as she got bolder, she got more curious. Now that she was used to going there every week she relaxed in her paranoia and began to ask subtle questions. The answers were always vague, the adults dodging directly answering anything she asked. Every question seemed taboo: why is his hair white? what is his crime? why does he need injections?

One fateful day she squirted out what was in the syringe onto her fingertip. She looked at it, let it drip down her finger, sniffed it, and tasted it. Beyond a doubt, the base component of the shot was blood. This set off intense research, until every waking moment she was immersed in books on the supernatural. Why would you inject someone with blood? And then she found out about them.

Vampires. Or, as they liked to be called, the Sveylican (I may change this name). Sveylican were predators of humans and many other races. Their success stemmed from their ability to survive with little tangible sustenance. It was said they lived off energy derived from physical blood, which was not a long stretch since many creatures were magical in nature. Humans would kill vampires on sight, and there was a huge bias toward them in the literature and encyclopedias she read.

The next question was, why did they keep a vampire in containment rather than just killing it like every other one?

That was dangerous territory, however. Raishel had to content herself with that fact that she knew what she was giving the mysterious prisoner, and that she somewhat suspected why he was locked up.

The next time she saw him, she doubted herself. His eyes; they did not seem like the eyes of a predator. There was only one way to truly know. She reached up, tugging open the straps on his face muzzle. His eyes widened and he struggled, whipping his head away, but she was determined. With shaking hands, she pulled the cloth back. She paused, letting the muzzle fall to the floor with a thump. Tears welled in her eyes. He looked tired and sickly, like a concentration camp prisoner. His lips were blue and tightly shut, and he wouldn’t look at her.

“Let me see them,” Raishel whispered. When there was no response, she said louder, the stubbornness entering her voice, “Let me see them!”

He looked at her then, and there was a sadness there that broke her heart. “Don’t be mad, I need to know.”

“You don’t have to know,” he said, his voice gravelly and wheezy. It was obviously an effort to talk.

A tear dripped down her face. “You don’t understand! I do! Why are you down here? What person deserves this? How can my parents be a part of this?” The more she spoke, the more she cried, until her head was down and her face was contorted with wrinkles. Tears dripped onto the floor, instantly dirtied by countless years of dirt and dust. “They don’t let me know anything! I’m the one who has to come down here and see you treated this way, and they don’t tell me anything! It’s not fair!”

“It’s okay, Raishel. I’m not in pain. I’m finally…” Here he had to take a breath. Raishel had looked up in astonishment and was no longer crying, she was so surprised. “…at peace. So don’t cry.”

His body sagged in the bounds, and he breathed hard.

“I never told you my name,” she said. He didn’t move or react in any way to her accusation, instead just watching her as he tried to recover.

Abruptly she reached up toward his face. Alarmed, he whipped his head away. She had grown in the past year, however, and could more easily reach him. She grasped his face, and he was much too weak to continue to struggle. Pulling back his cheeks and lips, pearly white teeth emerged into the light. Her face felt stiff from drying tears, and she felt her smile like it was a mask. She backed up. They had been human-like except for the canines, which were much too long to be human. What puzzled her, however, was the vampire had double-sets of those sharp teeth. She would have to research that.

She picked up the muzzle and put it back on his face. He looked drained, so she stacked the books on the chair and got the torch. One last time the girl looked at him, and he seemed to be falling back asleep already. Smiling sadly, she exited, even more puzzled than she was before the ordeal.

Mechanical Bunny · Site Admin Joined: 19 Apr 2007 Posts: 223

Have I been writing too much of my story and not enough of Orphy's? You betcha! Sorry Orphy! XD

BTW, this isn't occurring at the same time. I'm posting as I feel like writing whichever part. If I ever did a final version, it would be a lot different than this.

Brad and Danil were sitting in a run-down hotel room, Danil on the bed and Brad on the only other furniture in the room, a chair that squeaked and tottered uncertainly when sat upon. Brad was leaning over with his elbows on his legs and his chin balanced on his knuckles, gravely in thought, while Danil alternately watched him and studied his surroundings. The room smelled of mold and old urine, and Brad could hardly stand the smell. Danil had virtually no sense of smell, however, and didn’t know why Brad seemed so uncomfortable. The silent pondering was also boring him tremendously.

“Brad?”

“What?”

“Fish.”

“God damn. There’s no fish!” Brad sounded unnecessarily angry given the situation, and Danil seemed startled. Thinking he knew the reason, he got off the bed and approached the ex-sea captain. Once in front of him he self-assuredly went on his knees. Brad, now uncomfortable for a different reason, ignored the close proximity of the mermaid, hoping he’d go away. Danil only got bolder by the lack of movement. He reached his hand between Brad’s huddled arms and legs and picked lightly with his nails at the clinched belt of the other's pants, giving Brad an accompanying pleading look.

Brad sat up as if burnt by a hot poker in the backside and grasped the merman’s wrist in the same motion. “No! Bad Danil! Go back on the bed!” he yelled, and pointed at the bed. Danil pulled away and Brad let him go. Dejectedly, Danil retreated and sat on the bed as instructed. He kept his eyes on the floor as Brad went back to the silent pondering. However, Brad was now agitated, and could no longer contain himself. Abruptly he stood up and began to pace in the very small room. “What am I supposed to do now? I’m in deep shit. Fuck!” Thus began a rant, filled with curse words and repetitious damnations. Danil flinched when his voice elevated, and shrunk away each time Brad walked closer.

Soon Brad noticed and shouted at him, raising his hands in frustration, “Now what’s your problem?!”

The merman made a sad noise and crawled away over the bed until he was balled up in the corner of the room. Brad hissed in anger and went back to pacing. “And now I’ve got a fucking dependent. I don’t want any part of this! I’m screwed!”

His fists clenched, and he took the few steps over to the door. He opened it and turned to Danil. “You stay here!” he admonished harshly, pointing at Danil. With that he left, slamming the door behind him.

An hour later, after he had cooled off his head, he came back to the room and went straight inside. He had thought up a plan, a slightly evil one, but perhaps his only hope. Reassured, he entered the room.

There sat Danil, eating a fish.

Brad stood in the doorway for a moment, staring at Danil with his mouth slightly open. His surprise was not lost on Danil, and mistaking the reason, the merman said, “Fish,” and gestured with both hands which held it.

“Where—where did you get it?”

“Where…? Here,” he said, a little puzzled.

“Someone gave you a fish, in this room.” It sounded more like a disbelieving comment than a question.

“Yes.”

“Why? Where did they come from?”

“Hallway. I asked.”

“Why would they just go and get you a fish because you asked?”

Danil looked at him skeptically. “Do good, get fish.” He stated it like it was obvious. “He say I do good. No bad.” Danil acted as if turning up his nose at Brad and went back to eating.

Brad resumed his surprised, mouth agape stance in the doorway, but now had the idea he should probably shut the door. Afterwards he continued to stand there, flabbergasted, and ran his hand back through his brown hair. He wasn’t dense; he pieced together what 'good' meant. Heat lit up his face and he couldn’t look at Danil for a moment. “God,” he said, and ran his hand down his face, eventually smoothing his hand over the stubble on his chin.

He put his hands on his hips and said, “That’s the whole reason we’re here in this mess in the first place!” There was only a hint of anger now, which was not directed at Danil at all. Mostly he was incredulous. “My fucking crew couldn’t focus on the bigger picture, instead letting their damn groins run their life! Fucking hell! Of course, it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt, but what’s more important?!” Brad’s face lit up even redder as he realized what he just said out loud. He thanked the stars that Danil probably didn’t know what he just admitted.

Brad cursed again and sat in the chair, ignoring how it slowly leaned over to one side. Suddenly he twitched, righting it, agitated, and ran his hand through his hair again. Then something occurred to him. He looked up, and saw Danil throw the bones in the corner of the room. He watched as the merman licked his lips and claws contentedly. “Danil,” he said, cajoling. Danil ignored him, but he stiffened in recognition.

“Danil,” he said again, friendlier and more cajoling. Danil then deigned to look at him, but regarded him coolly. Brad continued carefully, trying to get his point across, “Danil, you’re worth more than a fish.” He waited for understanding.

The merman’s curiosity got the better of him. “Worth?”

Brad thought a moment, trying to think of a way to express what this word meant. “Worth means that something is good, very good, or great, or bad, or not so good. It’s an amount. When I say, ‘worth more than a fish,’ it means you are more good, or better, than a fish.”

Danil nodded, furrowing his brow. “I know,” he replied, again sounding as if Brad was stating the obvious.

Again, Brad was amazed by his answer. That was not what he had been expecting, though he wasn’t sure what he expected from Danil.

“Well, I mean, what you’re—doing… should get you a lot more than one fish. It’s special.”

“Special?”

“Yes, it’s good. More than other people--I mean humans, like me, can do. So it’s worth a lot.”

Danil nodded, seeming to genuinely understand.

“How many fish?”

Brad thought this over a moment. “I don’t know. But, you shouldn’t degrade yourself by doing…that. What humans do for…fish… is work.”

“Wo’k?”

“Work. You do something, and get money. With money, you buy whatever you want, like fish.”

Danil looked puzzled, so Brad looked around the room for an example to illustrate his point. “Ok… For example, I could work by cleaning, picking up a mess.” He pointed at the bones that Danil had thrown over in the corner. Danil watched intently as Brad picked up a bone. “Then, since I cleaned your room, you give me money.” Brad dug a gold coin out of his pocket and held it up, pretending to get it from Danil, and clenched it in his hand. “Then, with money,” he shook his hand, “I go get what I want. I buy it. You can buy a fish, or pants, or whatever you want.”

Danil tapped a nail on his bottom lip. “Yes. How much money buy fish?”

Brad took out different amounts of money and taught Danil the money system. This was harder for Danil to grasp, quite obviously, but with practice Brad hoped he could learn it. In the meantime it seemed that Brad was again in Danil’s good graces. He was smiling at Brad again, and Brad found himself relaxing. Danil wasn’t stupid; he could work, too. Together, they could earn a fairly decent living, and Brad could save up for another boat and crew. He knew he would again go out to sea; he had to. It was his only life. Even if it took years, he would make it happen. There was no need to enact his plan.

***************************************************

“We have assembled today, the 12th of January, in the year of xxxx, to discuss new policies for the Council of Scientific Research and Experiment. Of the first order of business, a topic we have been debating for some months that needs immediate resolution, is what to do with the Svelyican we have. Dr. Richard, you are first to speak.”

“Thank you, Councilor. Gentleman, while I respect the research we have accomplished in the past with the help of this specimen, I would advise the immediate termination of any future plans and of the creature itself. It is a danger from a decade past that was a little more ignorant and eager than we gentlemen here today. Therefore, I propose this action to terminate. Thank you.” He sat down.

Raishel's mouth was agape at all she had just heard. They had invited her to come to this meeting because, they said, “it involves you.” Now she knew why. They wanted to kill him! Thoughts vied for dominance in her head. He was a specimen, which meant he was an experiment subject? He was dangerous—how could he be? More importantly,

“No! You can’t do that!” Raishel shouted, springing as upright as she could while sitting in a chair at the table. It was a good sized table surrounded by around twenty councilors and scientists, including her parents.

“Raishel!” her mother hissed at her, motioning for her to sit back down.

“You can’t!” she squealed, like a child having a temper tantrum, piercing the ears of even the eldest council member. The whole group cringed.

“And why can’t we, little girl?” the council head asked, a little arrogantly and very annoyed, as he stood to better see her.

“Because he’s done nothing wrong!”

A few of the council laughed, and all of them smirked haughtily at her ignorance.

“Oh really? And what would a whippersnapper like yourself know, Miss Raishel? Now, quiet down and let the grown-ups speak.” With that last huff of hot air, he sat back down, motioning to another person at the table. Raishel’s father.

“Well, my daughter is a little bit right.” He laughed nervously as Raishel huffed, arms folded. “There are still plenty of things to learn from him, and instead of having him rot down there we could train him like we train all the other specimens. I think past rumor has blown how dangerous he is all out of proportion,” he said. The familiar deep voice did nothing to quell Raishel’s anxiety. His suit was perfectly ironed, and Raishel couldn’t help but be struck by how regal he attempted to be. Gone was the usual smile and swelling red face that the girl took as a mark of happiness. He was pale and sweaty, his eyes withdrawn even from his own daughter. His speech done, he smoothed the cloth down over his protruding belly before sitting.

“Thank you, Professor. Anyone else have a differing view?”

No one spoke up. Raishel bit her lip, giving sidelong glances at her mother who kept a careful eye on her. “Very well,” said the council head. “We shall have our, hopefully, deciding vote. This time we shall try something a little bit differently so that the matter can be resolved anonymously. Write ‘yay’ or ‘nay’ on the small square in front of you and fold it twice, then hand it to the servant who comes around.” Everyone bent diligently to write, and Raishel noticed she didn’t have a piece of paper or a pen. She began to raise her hand and open her mouth, but her mother swapped her hand from the air. Raishel, tears stinging her eyes at the reprimand, sat sullenly as the servant collected the votes. The council head walked to the side, taking out each vote and looking at it, then throwing it in the trash. Once done, he walked back to the table. The silence hung palpably in the air, oppressive and heavy. He cleared his throat, and announced, “The Svelyican shall be terminated. Now we must deliberate and set a date…”

The hum droned on as the debate began, leaving Raishel in a state of shock. Just like that, they had decided to end a life… One that had obviously served them in the past. True, she didn’t know all the details, but it just didn’t seem right! How could they just decide such a thing so calmly? “No! You can’t!” she pealed, stopping the current speaker. If she hadn’t been so upset, all the heads swiveling around toward her in symphony would have been quite funny. As it was, all the eyes on her made her suddenly choke on her words. All she could think to do was repeat, “You can’t!” The council head motioned at someone, and a man came and pulled back her chair. He gently took her by the shoulder and steered her toward the door. She looked back at her parents, but they were not looking at her, instead listening intently to the speaker who immediately resumed.

A tear went unheeded down her face as the door was shut softly behind her. To her ears, however, it sounded like a thunderclap. She stood alone outside the chamber, shocked, thoughts racing through her head, all of them incoherent. Finally she willed her body to move, and before she realized where she was going she was standing before the large metal reinforced door. Fishing in her pocket, she produced the gold key. She turned it in the lock, and as quickly as she could hauled the door open. Just as mightily she tugged it closed and locked it from the inside.

With no torch, the descent was like into the underworld itself. She couldn’t see a thing, and was forced instead to focus on the slime clinging to her fingers as she used the wall to guide her and the loud repetitive crashing sound as her heart beat against her ribcage. Each pulse spread fire though her. One last time, she would see him. She didn’t know what she was doing—everything was a haze. It was as if her whole world was crumbling around her ears. She felt such burning shame for her parents, who had slaved for as long as she could remember for this “distinguished organization” but who were now self-sentencing murderers. How could they hold some intangible assembly of people to be more important, more loved, than their own daughter? This shame burned pathways down her face, until all she could hear was the sobbing echoing everywhere. The ramp was more like the dark places in her mind than the underworld.

When she finally walked up to the vampire, her body was shaking with strained exhaustion and emotion. The earlier travels down here had been unhurried, even slow, and she had the opportunity to take her time opening the heavy doors and walking the whole way down. Even so, the last few steps she took were at a partial run, until she embraced his bundled form, crying out her heart and soul the whole time. She didn’t know if he was awake, but she cried out, unafraid of being heard, “They’re going to kill you! They can’t do it! My own parents don’t care! I hate them! How could they do this to me? You can’t die, you can’t!” Through her tears she slid away enough to see the restraints, and one by one she began to undo them. Yanking, pulling, until she realized she would have to carefully pick which ones to undo first, and she stopped crying, instead focusing on taking apart the bindings. She didn’t know how long it took, but it seemed like a speeding train; over before she knew it. With the last one, without something to hold him up, he practically fell onto her, and she helped him to the ground. The last thing she reached for was the muzzle. He warded her off with an arm, which was feeble. Despite knowing he couldn’t really stop her, she let him be. He was breathing heavily, eyes narrowed with exhaustion. Both of them sat, him leaning on her, recovering.

“They can’t kill you. You have to get out of here,” she said, finally putting in words her intentions. They surprised her, and she sat in silence after they hung in the air, mulling over this development. She realized she had no idea how she was going to do this. Most—no, all, really—had never seen him, but surely they could recognize a vampire on sight. Especially in his get-up. There was just no way this could work, but Raishel couldn’t let herself not try. Even if it meant being disowned or punished, she couldn’t let such evil occur.

“C’mon, we have to go,” she said, lifting him as best she could. He made no effort to aid her, and she was eventually pulled to the floor by his weight. It was a dead weight, though he was so skinny that it seemed impossible he could feel so heavy. She figured it was all the restraints, which still covered him from head to foot. “C’mon!” she gestured. Still, he made no effort.

She maneuvered them both until she could look into his eyes. She didn’t know what she saw there; but he seemed dead. Not in a physical way, but his eyes offered no warmth or spark that she would attribute to awareness. Was he unconscious? Asleep? She reached up with one hand and undid his muzzle. His arm twitched, but otherwise there was no reaction. Off it came, and he looked at her dully, perhaps awakened a little by the movement. “What’s wrong? We have to hurry, they could decide to do it any moment!”

“I am already dead,” he whispered. If they hadn’t been alone, with no sounds to interfere, she could not have heard him. As it was, she couldn’t believe her ears.

“No you aren’t! C’mon, we have to go!”

“I am…already…It’s okay…”

“No! This is wrong! This isn’t right! You’ve done nothing wrong! They forced you into this!”

“No, you’re wrong. You don’t know… Please, let them come. It’s okay. I will be at peace.”

She hugged him, her tears starting anew. “But I don’t want you to die! What will I live for? How come it’s this way? I don’t understand! You can’t die! You just can’t! For me, please don’t die!”

“I’m too tired…any…way…”

“You need food right?! You only need a little right? You Svelyican can survive on very little! I read it! So it’s okay!”

“No… the muzzle…put it back…” He feebly grasped at the muzzle, but she took his hand away. She was in control, and he knew it. There was horror entering his face, but she ignored it. “I want you to live. You just need some encouragement. They must have brainwashed you to make you say this stuff! C’mon!” She held up her wrist by his mouth, and he looked helplessly into her eyes. He could hardly move; maybe all the strength he had left was to open and shut his jaws. Unable to resist, after starving for so long, his body moved by itself.

The pain was sudden, making her flinch. It wasn’t as bad as she thought it could have been. The strangest part was the sudden outpouring of blood. She felt dizzy, and faint, like the world could suddenly be squashed by a giant fluffy pillow. It eased up, and she found herself again. His tongue ran over the punctures, causing more pain, and she flinched, saying, “Ah!” Resolutely she endured it, and found it both fascinating and sick. Her stomach turned at the thought of blood sliding down her throat like it was his, but she didn’t stop him just because of this. After a moment she thought he had enough, and she eased it away. Suddenly he grasped her wrist roughly and held it in place.

“Stop now, isn’t that enough?” she said. The grip on her wrist slackened, and she yanked it away, her fear having taken over.

His voice then echoed around the room, more solid and less raspy, his tone sad but matter-of-fact. “I'd have to kill a whole village to get back what I have lost.” A rueful smile spread on his face.

Raishel huffed. “You aren't killing anybody! Like I said, Svelyican can survive on very little.”

The vampire then laughed, shaking his head. “You are quite an amazing girl, Raishel.”

Raishel's indignant demeanor diminished and she got sheepish at the compliment. She wasn't sure of what to say, so they sat uncomfortably like they were for a moment. Then the vampire shifted, as if readying himself to stand. “Raishel, I want you to do something for me. Leave me here, with the doors unlocked, and go to your home. Make sure no one sees you, or no one that matters. I don't want this to hurt you in any way. And thank you.” With that, he gave her a tight-lipped smile and kissed her forehead, leaving a bloody print. She didn't even move to wipe it off. She beamed at him, jumped up, and ran off. Just as he said, she left the doors open and unlocked, and snuck into her house. Her parents still weren't home, and she waited in anticipation for any news. She was here. They couldn't blame her.

Mechanical Bunny · Site Admin Joined: 19 Apr 2007 Posts: 223

Raishel had a wet rag in her hand and was staring into the mirror, at the bloody kiss on her forehead. She realized she had never asked his name, never asked where he would go, never asked how he had ended up at the Council’s HQ. She might not ever see him again. Sighing, she pressed the cold, wet rag to her forehead and wiped. The blood had dried, so she had to scrub. She then rinsed the rag and patted her head dry. It was then she heard raised voices at the front door and the handle turning. She walked out of the bathroom and to the door, folding her arms as her parents entered. When they saw her, they immediately turned their raised voices toward her. Bewildered, she began to yell back. “I can’t even hear what you’re saying!” she shouted back. Both of her parents were very red in the face and as they shook their finger at her the fat in their arms wiggled. Disgusted, Raishel sat on the couch, ignoring them.

Suddenly her mother changed tactics and shut up as she leaned her heavy bulk beside her little girl. “Raishel, honey, where did you go after you left the council room?”

“You mean after I was escorted out of the council room, Mother. And I came here. Where else would I have gone?”

Her father bellowed, “Don’t lie to us you little brat! You’ll cost us our jobs, our house, our MONEY!”

“Maybe there’s something more important than MONEY, Father!!” she yelled back.

Her mother tried to hush her father, and succeeded in getting him to stop yelling. Instead, he stood there breathing very hard, red in the face, angrily glaring at his daughter. “Now, dear, my little Rai-kins, why don’t you tell us where you really were?”

Raishel glared at her mother. “I told you, HERE.”

Again her father interrupted with shouting, “We both know you’re lying! You’re the only one with a key! Now you’ll tell us where he is IMMEDIATELY!”

“I don’t know where he is! And I don’t care! I was the only one with the morals to do the right thing!”

“Don’t turn this around like you’re some kind of saint! What you did was a crime! A very serious crime! High treason!”

“Is that more important than someone’s LIFE?!”

“YES!! They’ll think we were involved! Do you want your own parents to be arrested?!”

“Maybe I don’t care! I don’t care anymore!” Raishel shrieked as she jumped up from the couch. She dodged her mother’s attempt at a tackle or a hug, it was hard to tell which, and ran to her room. She slammed the door behind her and locked it. Her parents came over and pounded on the door. “Open this door RIGHT THIS INSTANT!”

“No!”

“RAISHEL MUNDEN, IF YOU DON’T OPEN THIS DOOR WE’LL BREAK IT DOWN!”

“Maybe if you fell on it you could!”

Her father had no reply to that, instead he just growled angrily and pounded harder against the door.

While they struggled with the lock, she grabbed clothing, the allowance she earned by taking care of the Svelyican, and other knickknacks and special possessions. She threw all this in a knapsack and slung it on her back. She then opened a window and scampered out, dropping the few feet to the ground with a thump. It hurt her legs a little, but she endured it. Quick as she could she ran off. She didn’t stop running until she was absolutely exhausted. She looked behind her, and no one was there.

*************************************************************************************

Brad got a job as a laborer, and after a week they were able to move out of the disgusting, small hotel room into a nicer hotel. Money was tight, but Brad bought Danil fish when he was hungry—for nothing in return. He forbade Danil from getting a job for now, until he could teach him more about human ways. He could get taken advantage of as he was now, able to understand only a portion of human language and manners. However, Danil was getting more and more restless. Brad worried about him when he was at work, because he was leaving an intelligent creature alone in a hotel room, where he had nothing to do to occupy his time. What was he doing while Brad was away? It could be anything. He worried that one day he would return to an empty room. Instead, every day he returned he got a joyful hug from the merman and a delighted smile for the fish brought home.

Even that situation was wearing on Danil. It seemed to be ingrained in him that nothing was free. Brad would see him sometimes out of the corner of his eye, shrewdly studying the human who cared for him and wondering. Brad didn’t know what to do about this. If he was the merman, he wouldn’t believe Brad was doing this just out of the kindness of his heart, either. Brad had to admit to himself that he wasn’t the nicest guy. When you were the leader of men out at sea with no law other than yourself and “common human decency”, you had to be tough. That’s why he ALSO wondered why he was doing this.

So he had a back up plan? So he wouldn’t be alone?

On Brad’s days off, he would take Danil out fully clothed and introduce him to concepts. After awhile of staying in backstreets and quiet stores, Brad decided it was time to see how the merman would react in a busy marketplace. Before heading out, he explained to him that there were going to be a lot of people where they were going, and Danil was to remain calm and keep to himself. And ALWAYS stay by Brad’s side.

When they arrived at the outskirts Brad kept an eye on Danil, but instead of being scared or intimidated, Danil smiled. “Lots of people,” he said, turning to Brad and sounding excited. Brad reaffirmed this, and smiled back. They walked by food stalls and by groups of talking and bartering people. Danil seemed to absorb everything as his eyes darted about. They came across a stall with fish laid out in neat rows, and Brad bought him a few of his favorites for a treat. They wrapped them in a cloth and carried it with them.

It was then that Brad noticed the amount of attention Danil was receiving. Women, children, men, everyone was casting him glances, whether furtively or openly. Brad studied him but didn’t see anything unusual, except for the fact that the merman was somehow brilliantly beautiful. In the sunlight his hair sparkled, shining brighter than human hair did. His eyes were also still of that inhuman, brilliant green that glowed brighter in shade.

Nervous now, Brad steered Danil into a smaller bustle where actual storefronts were. Danil pouted when he realized they were leaving the crowd, and when they arrived near a store’s entrance he seemed let down. “People were staring at you,” Brad explained when Danil sighed.

“They were?”

“Yeah. I thought maybe they suspected something. I got nervous, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Brad protects me.” Danil smiled at him, showing his sharp incisors. Brad thought he could probably defend himself if he just grinned at a would-be mugger.

Brad looked at the storefront, and noticed it was called Arda’s Bar & Liquor Store. Brad said, “You know what I could really go for? Some whiskey. It’s been awhile since I had that pleasure.”

“Whiskey?” Danil asked, looking where Brad was looking.

“Yeah, it’s a drink. Alcohol, which makes humans drunk.” Here he laughed. “I wonder if you guys have anything like it? Maybe we’ll see if you can get drunk too. It’ll be an experiment.” Brad grinned playfully and Danil got very curious.

“I want alcohol drink.”

Brad laughed. “Okay, let’s go in and see if the bar’s open, yet. Otherwise I’ll get us a bottle.” He led the way in and peered around. It was a nice establishment, nothing fancy, but the walls were spruced up with pictures of the city and fake plants. There was a bar along the left wall, and filling the rest of the room were shelves holding all sorts of liquor. He walked up to the bar and asked for a drink. The bartender gave him a look, and Brad explained it was his day off and he wanted to relax. The bartender then looked at Danil, and only when she was forced to prepare Brad’s drink did she look away. Danil sat down on a bar stool, completely oblivious to the overt staring, and smiled at Brad when he found the seat would rotate 90 degrees back and forth. Brad smiled back as he watched him, thinking how like a child Danil sometimes acted. Everything was new to him, after all.

Brad looked over and watched the bartender pour him his whiskey. He wondered if she was the “Arda” in Arda’s Bar & Liquor Store. She was fairly pretty; long dark hair, robustly colored skin, long dark eyelashes, and an hourglass figure somehow shown off through traditional bartender wear. She had lost the tie, but she wore a men’s vest and shirt with pants. They were a dark, eye-pleasing arrangement of blue and green. “That your friend?” asked the bartender. Brad snapped his attention to her face and said, “Yeah.”

“He sure is beautiful,” she said, then addressing Danil, “You know that, right? What’s your name?”

“Danil.”

“My name is Arda. Where are you boys from? I don’t recognize you. Usually the people who come in here are regulars.”

“I’m a sailor, but I lost my ship. So I’m staying here for awhile to earn some money. Danil here is my friend.”

“A fellow sailor?” she asked, handing Brad his drink. “Did he want anything?”

“Maybe. But um, not really. Just a friend that…comes along with me.”

Arda nodded as if understanding, but he didn’t think she really did. He took a sip of the whiskey, and smiled, smacking his lips. “That’s good stuff.”

“Thank you.”

Brad held the cup out to Danil, saying, “Try it?”

Arda watched with amusement along with Brad as Danil daintily took the cup and sniffed it. Immediately Danil went, “Ugh,” and held it back out at Brad. “Aw c’mon, try it!” Arda teased, leaning on the counter. Brad raised his hands away like he wasn’t going to take the cup back. Danil brought it back, looking at them both quite unhappily, and sniffed it again. It was obviously just as bad as last time. He resolutely put it on the counter and glared them down.

Brad laughed and picked it back up. “Ah, you’d get used to it eventually!” he said good-naturedly, then downed the whole thing in one gulp. Arda shook her head and stood up. The bell rang as someone entered the door just then, and Arda greeted the troupe familiarly. They were older men, perhaps in their forties, who looked a little tough, with tattoos and rough cloth jackets. They sat at the bar not far from Danil and ordered their drinks, casting sidelong looks at the merman and sometimes Brad. Brad felt like they were sizing Brad up, but just staring at Danil. Brad got nervous again, and when he had the opportunity to talk to Arda, he asked, “Can I get a bottle of that stuff?”

“Sure, it’s on the bookcase on the very left, third shelf up I believe.” She pointed and went back to preparing drinks. Brad got up and went to get the bottle. As he was looking for it, the man closest to Danil said, “Hey,” to the merman. Danil smiled nicely and said, “Hello.” Brad groaned inside, but tried not to make any displeased looks or movements, focusing instead on getting the bottle as fast as possible.

“Man, are you a guy or a girl?” the newcomer said.

Danil looked surprised and said, “Guy,” as if it was obvious.

“Well you look like a girl with that long hair, you should probably cut it.” Brad could hear the sneer in his voice.

“I’m sorry.” Danil said it like he was deeply apologizing for something.

Catching that his tone didn’t match the conversation, the man asked, "Sorry? What for?"

“That you can’t see good.”

The guy responded by leaning more on the counter and laughing lightly, though not with humor. When Danil kept a serious face, looking at him, the guy got angry. “Take that back,” he said, standing. His crew stood with him. Danil remained seated and just glared at the man. Irked, the newcomer strode over to the merman and grabbed his arm, now shouting, “Take that back!”

Brad was watching by this point, bottle in hand, stunned by what to do. He didn’t want to make a scene, but he felt a strong protective surge go through him. Before he could approach to settle the matter, however, Danil made a strange motion with his mouth and spit something at the angry man. “The fuck--?!” the guy said, slapping his hand to the barb lightly embedded in his neck. Then his face got pale, then green, and he turned away and vomited hard on the floor. It was as if someone had grabbed his stomach and squeezed hard, forcing the bile out of his mouth. His other crew members shouted and ran to his aid, but they couldn’t help him. He vomited again, and Danil calmly got off his seat and walked over to Brad. “Can we go now?” he asked. Brad was staring at him, mouth agape, but he nodded, and went over to Arda.

By that time it appeared that there was nothing left in his stomach to throw up, so the group was helping carry the guy out. One of them looked back and pointed as the group went through the door, “If you give business to assholes like these, Arda, you’ve lost OUR business!”

Arda looked shocked at the whole thing and waved her hands, pleadingly calling to them, “They’re new guys!”

“Psh,” the guy said and followed his friends out. Brad stood at the register with the bottle, looking sheepish. She approached and folded her arms. “You’ve just lost me some of my customers.”

“I’m really sorry. I had no idea…” Brad trailed off, unsure of what to say. He did know that the merman could do something like that, but hadn’t actually known, either. He also didn’t know that Danil would pick a fight—or win, for that matter. Most of the time he seemed so upbeat and happy that it was hard to imagine him angry or violent. Danil looked sorry too, and piped up, “He call me a girl. I am not a girl.”

Arda reassured him with a, “No you’re not,” and sighed. She unfolded her arms. “I forgive you guys, but you’d better pay for the drinks they didn’t finish.” Brad laughed and allowed her to ring him up for everything. He gave her money and went to leave. Arda then piped up, “I don’t know what creature you have there, but you’d better keep him under wraps. He looks like he’s worth a lot and this area has a lot of much meaner guys around than that one.”

Brad looked back at her seriously and said, “Thank you.”

He walked home with Danil quickly, keeping an eye out for anyone tracking their movements. No one followed them home, and he quickly got into his room and locked the door. He put the bottle on the small table they now had. Danil laid the cloth with his fish on the other side.

Their hotel room had upgraded to a larger bed, a small table, and two chairs. They still had to sleep in the same bed, since Brad couldn’t afford two rooms, but it was okay because Danil slept like a log. They also owned a couple plates, bowls, cups, and eating utensils. He mostly ate out, but sometimes he had the pleasure of eating with Danil and being kept amused by how curious Danil was about what humans ate.

He took a cup and sat down in a chair, opening the bottle of alcohol, and pouring himself a small glass. After he took the shot, he roughly sighed with pleasure at the quality and set the cup down with a thump. He then ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. “Man,” was all he said. Danil sat in the chair opposite him and watched him silently. Brad then took another shot, and put the cap back on the bottle. He hadn’t had a drink for awhile, so it was best to wait and see how drunk he would get. He was already starting to feel that woozy, heady feeling alcohol induced.

After awhile of sitting in silent camaraderie, Danil tentatively asked, “Do I look like a girl?”

Brad shook his head, stupidly saying, “No… No.” He wasn’t looking at Danil though, instead at the table, letting the feeling wash over him. He was hoping it would carry with it all the doubt he was feeling in his life. Danil said again, “Should I cut my hair?”

Again, Brad said, “No, no!” this time more emphatically. “Your hair is fine, that guy was just an asshole.”

“What’s an asshole?”

“A jerk. A guy that’s mean. It’s a bad thing.”

Danil nodded in acknowledgment. “Brad, why he say I looked like a girl when I don’t? No understand.”

This time Brad looked up. “Ah, well, I guess humans have certain ideas of what a guy—or girl—should look like. Long hair is supposed to be for girls, and I guess, I don’t know, your face is pretty in the way a human woman’s might be.”

Suddenly Danil lifted his shirt and looked down. “But I don’t have bottles like woman. Hair is not woman, bottles are woman.”

Brad blushed and looked away. The merman’s chest was indeed masculine, lightly toned from swimming constantly in the water. Brad didn’t think he could get aroused by the male body, but he could see that the merman was beautiful and get embarrassed by the frank showing off of that. “True. Humans are a little…confused, I guess.”

“Yes,” the merman agreed, letting his shirt drop carelessly.

Brad was feeling a lot drunker now. It was no fun being drunk alone with an undrunk person in a small room, so he thought maybe he would go somewhere. But not in the middle of the day. So he gestured at the bottle. “You should try this stuff, it’s good.”

“Gross drink,” Danil responded.

“Yeah it’s gross, but it’s fun to be drunk. Do mermaids have any drugs, things that change your behavior and make you feel good?”

“Sex.”

Brad immediately laughed loudly and slapped his knee. When he calmed down he said, “Oh man, that was funny. But really, something you eat or drink that makes you strange?”

Danil thought a moment. “A plant makes us want sex… We eat when sex time.”

Brad nodded his head slowly. “Pretty cool.”

“I want sex,” Danil admitted, looking rueful. Brad laughed lightly and nodded. “Don’t we all? It’s not so easy for humans as eating plants, though.”

“No sex time?”

“No, there’s no time we have sex. It’s just random. We find someone we like, and it just happens.”

“We should find someone we like.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not easy,” Brad wistfully said, scratching his chin. He had shaved it today, and the razor had been abrasive.

“No, it’s easy. I like Brad. I found someone I like. Don’t you have someone you like?”

Brad squirmed in his chair and picked at the wood top of the table. The alcohol wasn’t making him feel any better. He really didn’t need to be reminded of this aspect of his life.

“No. I mean, I like you, but not like that. I’ve never found a woman worth liking.”

“No man either?”

Brad shook his head. “I don’t like men.”

Danil looked surprised. “Why you don’t like me?” He asked it in a way that expressed he was piecing together why Brad shirked his sexual advances.

“Yeah. I like women like that, only.”

“Why?”

Brad shrugged. “I just do. Most humans just like the opposite sex.”

“Opposite sex?”

“The other gender, like since I’m a guy I like girls. And vice versa.”

“Strange,” Danil said, frowning. Brad looked at him and asked, “What, you like men?”

“I like men and women. I like Brad, and Arda.”

“Arda?”

“Arda was healthy, too, and nice. I like Arda. I like Brad more, though.”

Brad was starting to get very uncomfortable. He had thought the merman was just like that with everyone, and only stuck with Brad because he was the first one he saw. Or something stupid like that. He hadn’t thought about any “why”s. This new development was unexpected. He decided he’d ignore it for now, and try to shift the conversation a little, to get it away from where it was going.

“Yeah, Arda was pretty attractive.”

“You should have sex with her.”

Brad laughed. Then he threw his head back, shifting his body into a comfortable position with his legs wide apart and his arms resting comfortably out on the table and a thigh. “Yeah, well, she might not like that.”

“You should make her want sex with you.”

“Yeah, well, that either takes awhile, and I’ll be moving on and she won’t want to come with, or I hit on her, in which case she seems like the type to run me out. Nah, it’s okay…”

“No! Want sex makes Brad unhappy. Danil unhappy, Brad unhappy, too, right?”

Brad sighed and leaned forward, rubbing his forehead and staring at the whiskey bottle. “Yeah, but I just deal with it. I mean, YOU could just bat your eyes at someone and have them. Me, I’d have to prove myself. It’s too much work and it’s not worth it. If it happens, it happens, but otherwise I’ve got other things in my life to worry about.”

“I won’t have sex with someone. I have sex with person I like. I only want Brad.”

Brad didn’t know what to say to that. He put his face in his hands and shook his head lightly. “Heh…” He rubbed his face some. “God, this is messed up… What the hell am I doing?”

“What Brad say? Why?”

Maybe it was the alcohol, or just a need to get this tension off his chest, but he gave in. “Danil, I’m a fisherman. A sailor. I love the sea, the smell, the taste, the feeling, the way it looks. It’s fickle, but I know it well. Hell, it’s the only thing I know. The only thing I’ve ever been good at. It’s what I live for. After awhile of being out there, I want to walk on land again for a little while, but after I’ve been on land for that little while, all I want is to be on the open sea again. It’s indescribable how I feel about it, really. It’s what I need.” He shut up and rubbed his forehead again.

“I understand. I want to be in home again. I miss my friends. But I like being with Brad, too, and Brad can’t be in home. So, I am close by Brad.”

Brad felt shame and anger spread through him. He slammed his fist onto the table and looked at Danil. He ignored the surprised expression and shouted, “Why? Why do you like me so much?”

“Don’t be angry, Brad.”

“I’m not angry,” Brad pouted, pulling his arm back close to himself. He leaned on the table and looked away for a moment. After an awkward silent pause he looked back. “Please, I gotta know why you like me so much.”

“Why like Brad? Hmm…” Danil thought for only a moment, before continuing, “Brad is nice, gives fish for no money, and says new stuff to me—Teaches! Teaches me for no money. Brad lets me sleep in bed with him, and doesn’t complain, even though I cuddle when Brad doesn’t like men. Brad gives me nice smiles, and Brad is attractive. Brad doesn’t care that I am mermaid, treats me like human. No one does that but Brad.” Danil looked shily down at his hands clutched in his lap. He looked sad, too. “Everyone makes me buy fish by doing good, and says I am monster.”

“Monster? Who said that?”

“Joe, Silas, Kurk, Sweet Tooth—“ Brad interrupted him with a loud, “WHAT? They said that?”

“'Monster is bad, so monster sucks dick to get fish, or dies.'” Danil got teary-eyed. “’We give you away for fish,’ he say, and then later, ‘We make you suck dick whenever we want, and no fish.’” Danil’s expression was sad, and his body shook lightly, and Brad thought he’d be crying if he could. Brad was shocked; he realized he had sat up straight and was regarding Danil with horror.

“Why didn’t you leave? You could have jumped back in the sea when we were still on the ship!” he exclaimed, looking for any way to feel less guilty about what had happened to the other man.

“No, Brad put thing here,” and he put his hand against his ankle, making Brad look under the table. “THEN they say things. I couldn’t leave. Then, Brad took me off ship, protect me.” Here Danil looked up and smiled. “Brad give me fish, and didn’t make me do good for anything. Brad gets angry, but only because Brad is unhappy.” He puffed up his chest. “Then I think, I will make Brad happy.”

“So you’re doing this to pay me back?” Brad asked, incredulous. He hadn’t had a clue what was going through this creature’s mind, at any time. It wasn’t just the language barrier; he had never asked.

When met with a puzzled look, Brad tried again. “You’re staying with me, to make me happy, because you think I saved you?”

Danil nodded a little hesitantly. Brad didn’t know if he understood or not; he was feeling pretty drunk now. It was hard to focus on whether he would be understood, or ways to explain things to someone who didn’t know all the words yet.

“God, I had no idea. I thought you were just stupid, or something.” He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know, I didn’t mean that. You aren’t stupid. I just didn’t think about it. Hell, I don’t know why I kept you around.”

“You like Danil?” Danil offered. He looked at Brad pleadingly. Brad looked back for a moment. “Yes, of course I do. But—man, I am drunk, I think. I wouldn’t normally say that… Ugh…”

“Say what?”

“No, nevermind. Nevermind.” Brad sighed.

“You don’t like me,” Danil said, sounding tremulous and sad again. He covered his face with his hands and shook lightly.

Brad groaned, saying, “Oh no, that’s not true. I do.” He got up from the chair and came around to Danil and knelt beside him. He pulled Danil to his chest and held him lightly. “I do like you.”

Danil snuggled closer to him, but kept shaking and said sadly, “Not like I want you to.” After he said that he trembled even more.

“Aw no, c’mon… It’s okay…” But Brad didn’t know what to say, and he thought that would be more damaging than saying something. As he thought, it was quiet in the room, deathly silent, and Brad was suddenly scared. He didn’t know why, but his whole life, this moment, everything scared him. It had all started when he saw that brilliant array of colors: yellow, tan, green, blue, red. The real damage had been done when he saw his ship burning and his crew screaming for help.

“Maybe I *can* like you that way,” Brad offered, not really knowing what he was saying. He felt like he would say anything if it got Danil to act happy again. Or just smile, even.

Danil shifted and looked up at him, saying, “You can?” and Brad found himself looking down into what appeared to be green rings of light. There was scant luminescence in the room, mostly coming from the closed door, and they didn’t have a window. The darkness brought out the reflection of the merman’s nightvision. It was striking, beautiful. Brad was speechless a moment, before he dumbly said, “Yeah.”

Danil wrapped his arms around Brad’s chest and pulled him close. “Brad smells good, and is warm. I am happy,” he said, sounding as if was recovering from a cold just like someone who had cried. He sniffed, and snuggled against Brad, who held him, too. Brad had to admit the merman smelled good, too, a smell that reminded him of the sea. Not just of fish either; he actually smelled surprisingly more like salt water and something sweet than fish. Taking this scent in, he realized he also felt happy to smell that, and to feel the heat radiating off Danil’s body.

“I’m sorry my crew did that to you,” he said, feeling teary-eyed himself. He kept that back, refusing to let himself cry. A little bit of warmth and smell weren’t a good enough reason to cry.

“Brad is here, I don’t care,” Danil replied. Brad could feel the smile spread on the other’s face through the fabric of his shirt. He smiled, too, and said he was glad.

Danil moved his head, accidentally rubbing Brad’s sensitive neck area as his face came around, sending pleasant tingles down Brad’s spine. He hadn’t been close to someone in awhile. A year? Who knew? He really didn’t mind the touch. Then Danil said, into his neck, “I want to make Brad happy. Can’t I? I’m not woman, but I can still make Brad happy…”

Embarassed

WARNING

One of Danil’s hands came around, settling on Brad’s chest and stroking down. The other held him tightly as Danil kissed Brad’s neck. Brad immediately responded, feeling a surge of blood and the heady feeling, stronger than the alcohol, grip his mind. His mouth, however, immediately said, “Uh… no…thanks.” Danil giggled but that didn’t stop his hand from heading south until he reached Brad’s belt. Once there, it deftly unbuckled the belt and tugged it open. Brad’s breathing was quickening, in sync with Danil’s. Both of them could feel the strength of the air filling them and then releasing, and feel the speeding up of their hearts. Brad’s hands moved away from their former hugging position, instead holding Danil’s shoulders like the merman would float away without something pushing him down. He was immersed completely in the feeling of warmth and energy coming off Danil, and the arousing journey of the hand at his belt.

Danil slipped inside Brad’s pants and under his briefs, finding Brad's growing member. Danil made a pleased sound in the back of his throat and kissed Brad’s neck again. He used his lips to pull at the skin there and then his slick tongue licked at the teased spot. Brad panted harder. Danil used his other hand to feel Brad’s chest, ending up eliciting a gasp as he grazed a nipple. Finding that to be the most sensitive spot, Danil focused on that with his fingers and tips of his claws. With his other hand he began to lightly fondle Brad’s member. Brad moaned some more, twisting his head and body to the side slightly as if he would pull away. Danil gripped him tighter and made that growly, gurgly sound Brad had only heard before on that first night they met.

“No more clothes,” Danil then said, pulling back to lift up Brad’s shirt. Dazed with initial lust and alcohol, Brad raised his arms so it could come off, then dumbly knelt there as Danil tugged down his pants. Without waiting to get them all the way off, Danil slipped off the chair, pushing Brad back a little to give him room, before getting on his knees and bending forward until he was crouched low. There he grasped the base of Brad’s cock again and moved it to slip it into his mouth. Brad groaned at the sudden, vicious heat encasing his dick. He was worried in the back of his mind about Danil’s teeth, but that disappeared when he remembered the first night, and felt that same feeling come back.

“Oh shit, not so much so soon!” Brad chastised as Danil took the whole partially-hardened thing in and sucked hard. Danil just hummed an acknowledgment and eased up. His tongue, or tongues—Brad still had no idea what Danil really had in his mouth—ran over his length, and Brad felt himself grow very hard very quickly. “Shit, shit, shit,” he repeated again and again as Danil steadily worked his cock with his mouth. Brad began to guide the back and forth sucking with a hand, and watched the action intently. He moaned when the pace suddenly increased. After a moment Danil pulled back and looked at Brad, who was gazing lazily with lust back at him. Danil smiled and said, “Have sex now. I want Brad’s thing in my thing.” Brad felt a little dizzy, or confused, he couldn’t tell which. He just allowed Danil to help him out of his pants and obediently sat where Danil steered him, to the bed. Then he watched mesmerized as Danil stripped. He had forgotten how amazing Danil’s body was. Sleek for underwater momentum, but also human. The diamond shapes that appeared like open wounds in his human skin, to Brad’s eyes, glinted red and blue in the light. And unlike the first day, Danil’s dick was hard and weeping precum.

Taking all this in at once made Brad gulp. He had thought he couldn’t be aroused by the male body. Something was wrong with him tonight, however, and he felt his cock throb and jump. Danil then crawled onto Brad’s lap, putting Brad between his legs, and pushed at Brad's chest until his back felt the bedspread. Then he grasped the base of Brad's cock and guided it to his opening. Brad impotently laid there and clutched the blankets as Danil sat down on his hard-on. It just managed to slip inside, and Danil cried out. “Brad,” he moaned.

“C'mon,” Brad ordered gently, pushing down with his hands. It slipped inside Danil's entrance more, eliciting moans from both. Danil, panting, staring at Brad's face as he felt the discomfort, forced himself down more. Brad hissed with pleasure and threw his head back. “God, you're tight!” Brad whispered. It felt like there were muscles encasing his whole cock as far as it had gone in. It squeezed hard, making it almost painful. More muscles lined the merman's entrance than a human's and Brad was feeling the pressure.

Finally they got past it, and Danil lowered himself until Brad's cock was in to the hilt. There they waited a moment. Brad said, “I don't think it's wet enough,” to which Danil replied, “It is good.”

Brad didn't get a chance to protest again. Danil began to ride him slowly. The muscles were still squeezing, and Brad grunted with each downward thrust. He found himself completely disoriented by the alcohol.

Danil rode him for awhile, both of them moaning and panting, dazed with pleasure. After awhile Brad felt like taking charge, flipping Danil onto his back and thrusting deep and hard. Spurred on by Danil’s cries, he went faster, propped up with his arms and looking down at the mermaid. Still those eyes were shining brightly, looking at him. He had a brief moment of clarity, wondering what he was doing, but then it faded into oblivion again. Danil reached down and began to stroke himself and his cries got harsher, more desperate. Then, after not too long, he said, “Too good, Brad,” and clutched Brad’s backside with his free hand.

The muscles around Brad’s cock tightened and he cried out, half collapsing onto Danil. “Oh, yesss,” Brad groaned and tried to keep up the pace despite the difficulty.

Danil started to cry out louder before there was a final cry where he harshly grabbed Brad, his back arched, and his head threw back with his eyes closed. He moaned Brad’s name and sprayed cum on the both of them. Brad wasn’t far behind, but this made him pause. He was not only surprised, but drunk, and not exactly coherent.

“No stop,” Danil ordered, watching Brad’s expression carefully. Brad followed his order blindly, and soon found himself on the brink again.

“Coming,” Danil ordered. Brad thought he said, “Come in,” but even so, didn't have the brains or the time to correct him. He came hard, roughly pounding Danil faster, before flopping weakly onto the other's body. His head was in the clouds, high with the ecstasy of orgasm, as he lay there peacefully.

Razz

~It's over~ Razz

They weren't on the bed properly, so it took them awhile to crawl into an appropriate position to sleep. Once his head hit the pillow, Brad passed out. Danil snuggled up to him and slept soundly.