A/N: This is the second story I ever wrote and my pen is simple and new. If you enjoy dark stories (with better writing) I recommend A Witch's Bargain and Whole.
Chapter 1.
"Thieving lout!" Luke crashed past the cabin door and fell hard against the rail. His thin chest heaved and his once-white shirt nearly slipped off his shoulders.
A large man, with a scruffy beard and generous belly, kicked the weaving door with a heavy boot and advanced on the boy.
"P-please, Mr. Roberts, It won't happen again!" The boy raised a trembling hand in defence.
"Damn right, it won't." Roberts growled and yanked up the boy by his worn shirt. "I didn't allow a useless shit like you on board just so you could eat my supplies!" He shook the boy hard.
Luke yelped and wrapped his hands around the beefy fists.
"Please, Sir! I'm sorry!" Tears streamed down the boy's dirty face and Roberts snarled in disgust.
"Get your filthy paws off me! Stinking, whining..." His words cut off when Luke's flimsy shirt tore and the boy fell over the rail.
He released one thin, pitiful wail before he hit the dark water and was swallowed beneath the waves.
Roberts stood, stunned. He clutched the rails and watched the dark ocean intently. The boy was gone. He leaned back and heaved a sigh.
"Well that settles that." The man grumbled and tossed the remnants of the shirt into the water, before retreating into the cabin.
Below the surface Luke floundered as the ice penetrated his bony limbs. His heart pounded desperately and he was incoherent with fear.
No... he despaired. No. Not like this.
He'd been starving, barely surviving on the stale bread crusts and watered beer Mr. Roberts had provided. He only meant to taste the man's stew. But once he'd had a bite, he couldn't seem to stop.
The boy twisted, straining futilely for a sense of direction. Which way was up? There was no light. He was surrounded by darkness.
His lungs gave one last, desperate squeeze for air and his mouth opened. Cold, salt. He choked as he breathed in the ocean and pain flooded his insides.
Luke barely noticed the brush of cold fingers. Only when a limb wrapped around his waist and his chest touched a living thing. He jerked, once. But fatigue and weakness was taking hold of him. He was dying.
Flesh pushed against his face and pressure sealed around his lips. There was a sucking sensation and the water drained from his mouth. Sweet air rushed in and his heart gave a painful thump.
The boy's arms felt numb and uncoordinated but he lifted them weakly and felt the arch of a slim back. He clutched the skin feebly and breathed in the wonderful oxygen.
The arms around him tightened - he felt a bump against his pelvis, and a disturbingly large motion beneath him, as they moved upwards.
Luke gulped in air, pushing his face as tight against that pressure as possible. His fingers were now stinging with tiny pinpricks all over and he folded them harder against that slender shape.
Suddenly a fist tangled in his hair and he was torn backwards. He gagged on water for a split second before his head broke the surface.
The boy coughed and spluttered - hearing the body against him do the same. Lights danced before his eyes and his head spun.
The fingers in his hair gentled and guided him forward. He let his head rest against wet skin and waited for his vision to adjust. Gradually he saw the motion of the black water - a flash of moonlight reflecting off the rippling surface.
He looked down and saw one trim, grey shoulder patterned with scales. Luke shuddered all over and his poor heart, that had gradually slowed, sped up once again. The claws in his hair scratched lightly in response. As if to soothe. He didn't dare lift his head. Simply closed his eyes tight and shook.
The Merfolk were rare. Sailors claimed to spot them now and then. Sometimes pieces of a massive tail washed up on shore, shredded from the teeth of a great shark.
They were highly intelligent and reclusive. With good reason. Their people were enemies. The elders used them as an incentive for children not to stray too far into the water. You'll be Merfood, Luke's mother used to say.
He felt the powerful limb beneath him move and the boy made a small sound of terror. Was he to be Merfood now? Then why bother saving him? To torture him? To keep him fresh?
Luke's eyes blurred with tears and he felt them slide down his face to mix with the salty water.
The hand on his head slipped down and pulled him back by the waist. His own embrace tightened briefly with dread, before he let his arms fall from that cool flesh.
"You have to climb." Said a hissing, oddly accented voice.
He frowned in confusion and forced his sore neck up to meet yellow eyes. His mouth went dry with fear.
The Mer before him looked to be a boy his own age. Slim and toned, hardly larger than himself. But his face was perfectly oval - there was no push of a cheekbone or curve of a jaw. Just a smooth, carved surface. His nose was pushed flat against his skull, with hardly more than two slits as nostrils - and his mouth was thin with a slightly pronounced cupids bow.
Black hair hung in a straight curtain to his shoulders and light scales covered his jaw and brow - thinning unto the middle of his face. His ears were sharp and pointed - and his neck had three diagonal gills on each side, wings flapping slowly. His eyes were large and elliptical with a strange gradient pupil.
Luke's mind went blank and he heaved a sob.
The boy before him blinked slowly. "Are you needing more air?"
That terrifying face moved closer and Luke whimpered as icy lips closed over his and air was forced into his mouth. He shuddered against the nauseous thought of fish lips against him and his hands clenched into fists - but gradually his breathing was coerced into the steady rhythm of the Mer against him and his hammering pulse slowed.
The Mer slowly pulled away. "Is it better?" Luke sniffled and found himself nodding.
"Why..." His voice cracked and he coughed, tasting salt. "Why did you save me?" He stared at the water, dreading the answer.
One of the Mer's hands scratched lightly at his back. His claws felt very sharp.
"I was curious." The hissing voice answered. "I've never seen one of you up close. You don't seem very frightening."
Luke gave a weak laugh. "No, I can't say I am."
He hesitated and watched the starlight flicker on the Mer's scaled chest. He had no nipples.
"Are you going to eat me?" Luke finally whispered.
The Mer gave a crackling hiss and Luke whipped his head up, staring in terror. He was frozen by the sight of a dozen sharp white teeth. In the dark the Mer's tongue looked black. It took him a moment to realise the creature was laughing.
"No. No, I won't eat you." Yellow eyes shone with amusement. "But I won't let you go without a promise."
Luke stared with wide eyes. "Anything!" He whispered.
"I want you to come back to me. Every night. I want to know one of your kind." The claws on his back tightened and Luke felt his throat constrict.
"Yes." He promised. "Yes, I'll be back every night."
The Mer hissed, flashing his piranha teeth. "I need your promise!"
"I..I promise." Luke stuttered, cringing back.
The Mer snarled and pulled him forwards. Quick as a snake, those sharp teeth struck into Luke's bony shoulder.
The boy cried out, struggling weakly. The pain was sharp and intense. The Mer's teeth withdrew and he sucked lightly before pulling away.
He licked his lips with that black tongue and grinned. "It's warm!" He exclaimed.
Luke shuddered and kicked. "You said you wouldn't eat me!" He wailed.
"I'm not eating you! We're exchanging a promise." The Mer pushed Luke's face to his trim shoulder. "Bite me." He demanded.
Luke struggled. His own shoulder burned with each movement. "I can't bite you!"
Suddenly those icy lips pushed to his ear and the claws dug painfully close. "If you do not promise - I will eat you."
Luke sobbed and shook his head frantically, before pressing lips onto that cold skin. The Mer-boy's skin was smooth and rubbery. Luke clamped down hard, but the flesh only ground slightly.
The Mer gave a sharp hiss, followed by a rattle and dug his hand into Luke's jaw. Luke's mouth popped open under the pressure and he was jerked up to that terrifying face.
"What is wrong with your fangs?" The Mer snarled and pushed back Luke's lips to expose his teeth. The Mer wonderingly ran his clawed fingers over the boy's dull incisors.
"How do you eat with these?"
"I..." Luke spoke awkwardly with sharp claws still in his mouth and waved his hands helplessly. The Mer caught his tongue and ran a thumb over the surface.
"Your tongue is flat and almost rough." Luke blinked and held very still against those lethal points. The Mer tilted his head, feeling the inside of Luke's cheeks and then released him.
Luke swallowed tightly and shivered. "My teeth aren't sharp." He mumbled needlessly. "I don't think I can bite through your skin. Not easily anyway."
The Mer rotated his shoulder and frowned.
"And you have no claws." He lifted Luke's water wrinkled fingers and felt the blunt nails.
Luke just shook his head, feeling exhaustion weighing on him.
"Then we'll do this another way." The Mer-boy caught him around the neck and pushed their lips together.
Luke felt a movement from behind the thin mouth and heard a slight crunch. The lips against his opened and a cold tongue pushed past his teeth. The Mer's tongue was smooth and slightly rounded. A cool liquid filled his mouth and Luke swallowed - tasting ocean and something tangy.
Mer-blood, Luke thought.
The tongue gently explored his, rubbing briefly, before touching against his cheeks and brushing the top of his pallet. Luke swallowed again and tasted only a little blood, before the tongue withdrew.
The Mer's lips thinned in an alien smile. "I could never do that to one of mine." He grinned toothily. "Too dangerous."
Luke could only stare. His vision was blurring and he knew he was close to passing out. The Mer pushed against his waist. "Go on." The boy hissed. "Climb."
Luke turned and only just noticed they were beside a dock bridge. He lunged for the rail and climbed up shakily. His feet slipped a few times on the wet ladder, before he managed to heave himself over the edge and hugged the solid planks.
There was a clicking sound from the water.
"Remember your promise!" And then a splash. Luke crawled to the edge, but saw nothing in the dark waters. He touched his mauled shoulder and winced.
The dock was perfectly silent. The town light looked far away and Luke curled up, huddling for warmth. He was instantly asleep.
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