The salty breeze danced around the quiet dock, the moon casting its silver glow over the rippling waves. A small wooden boat bobbed gently in the water, where a lone fisherman sat, his fishing rod gripped in calloused hands.

His name was Noah.

Soft-hearted, a little naive, and hopelessly in love.

The night had been still, uneventful—until his line suddenly jerked.

His heart leaped. Whatever was on the other end was powerful, pulling with a strength unlike any fish he had ever caught before. His fingers tightened around the reel as he yanked it back, his muscles burning from the effort.

Then, out of the dark waves, something broke the surface.

His breath caught in his throat.

A man.

No—not a man.

Moonlight glistened off sleek, dark hair that clung to a sharp, otherworldly face. His eyes were a piercing, glowing blue, staring at Noah with an intensity that made his blood run cold. Water dripped from his pale skin, sliding down his defined jaw and sculpted collarbones.

But it wasn’t the man's beauty that stole Noah’s breath.

It was the tail.

Long. Powerful. Covered in shimmering blue-green scales that glowed faintly under the night sky.

Noah couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. His mind screamed this isn’t real—but the weight of the creature in his net said otherwise.

Then, without warning, the merman bared his sharp teeth and bit through the net’s strings.

With one last burning stare, the creature slipped back into the water, disappearing beneath the waves.

Silence swallowed the night once more.

Noah sat frozen, his hands trembling over the frayed remains of his net.

Had he imagined it?

His heart pounded in his chest as he frantically rowed back to shore, desperate to get home—to normalcy.

But fate had other plans.

The soft glow of lantern light flickered against the wooden walls of Noah’s home as he stepped inside. His head swam with confusion. The ocean, the merman—it wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be.

He just needed to see him.

Caspian.

The love of his life. The man who had promised they would build a future together. The man whose laughter made Noah’s chest feel warm, whose touch made him feel safe.

He stepped toward the bedroom, pushing the door open gently—

And froze.

There, sitting on the bed, was Caspian.

But he wasn’t alone.

A Woman was beside him, their voices hushed, their fingers brushing together in the dim light. Caspian turned, his expression darkening when he saw Noah standing there, wide-eyed, breathless.

Noah's chest tightened. His stomach twisted painfully.

No. No, this isn’t happening.

His lips parted, but no words came out. The world around him blurred, but then—colors.

They bloomed in the air, swirling around them like ghostly flames.

Red. White. Pink.

The shades surrounded Noah, pulsing with pain, heartbreak, and betrayal.

Orange.

It clung to Caspian like fire. And the man beside him—it was there too. The same shade. The same soul match.

Noah's heart shattered.

His voice was barely a whisper.

“Get out.”

Caspian didn’t beg. Didn’t plead.

He simply stood, gave Noah one last unreadable look, and walked out the door—hand in hand with his true match.

The door clicked shut.

Noah was left standing in the silence, staring at the colors lingering around him.

He looked at his own reflection in the mirror. The shades of red, white, and pink still wrapped around his form, glowing softly.

A broken laugh escaped his lips.

“Is this… my new soulmate?”

The morning sun peeked over the horizon, but the warmth never reached Noah’s heart.

His eyes were heavy, rimmed red from a sleepless night spent staring at the ceiling. The weight in his chest hadn't lifted.

So, he did what he always did when he needed to think.

He went to the ocean.

This time, he chose a secluded cove, away from the village, where no one would disturb him. The dock creaked under his weight as he sat down, his fishing rod resting idly beside him.

He didn’t really want to fish. He just wanted to be alone.

But the ocean had other plans.

A soft splash.

Noah’s pulse jumped.

Slowly, he turned his head.

The water rippled gently, and then—he appeared.

The same creature from the night before.

The merman.

Only this time, he wasn’t struggling in a net.

He was watching Noah.

Their eyes locked. The merman’s gaze was unreadable, but there was something almost… curious about it. In his mouth, he held something—a fish.

With slow, deliberate movements, he placed it onto the dock and nudged it toward Noah.

A gift.

Noah’s throat tightened.

Why?

Why was this creature looking at him like that?

Before he could even think, his instincts took over. He scrambled to his feet, backing away. His heart pounded as he tried to escape, tried to put distance between himself and this thing.

But the merman was faster.

A firm grip wrapped around Noah’s ankle. Cold. Unyielding.

Then—he yanked.

Noah didn’t even have time to scream before the world tilted.

The sky vanished. The air was ripped from his lungs. Water engulfed him.

He thrashed, his body twisting as he fought to reach the surface, but strong arms locked around his waist.

Holding him. Keeping him in place.

Blue eyes met his beneath the water, glowing, intense.

The merman moved closer, pressing their bodies together. Noah’s heart slammed against his ribs, panic mixing with something else—something foreign.

Then—teeth.

A sharp bite against his neck.

Not enough to break the skin, but firm enough to send a shudder through him.

Noah gasped, his body tensing, but the merman only tightened his grip.

Then—movement.

The strong, powerful tail brushed against his legs, the cool, smooth scales sliding against his skin. A strange sensation sparked in his stomach, something dangerous, intoxicating.

Noah’s breath hitched in his throat as his body involuntarily responded to the merman’s touch. His lips parted, and the softest, breathless "ah" escaped him.

The merman’s gaze darkened.

The ocean rocked around them, as if the water itself had chosen Noah.

And as Noah’s body betrayed him, he realized something.

He was no longer the fisherman.

He was the catch.

No answer came.

To be continued

The ocean roared around Noah, swallowing him whole. The merman’s grip was unyielding, his cool fingers digging into Noah’s waist, keeping him trapped beneath the waves.

Noah’s mind screamed for escape. His lungs burned, and his heart pounded in frantic beats against his ribs. But the merman—he wouldn’t let go.

Teeth grazed Noah’s neck, sharp yet teasing. A shudder wracked through him as the creature bit down, not enough to break skin, but enough to leave a mark.

Noah gasped, his body trembling under the weight of something unfamiliar.

Then, the movement.

The merman’s sleek tail pressed between his legs, the cool, smooth scales rubbing against Noah’s thighs, sending a dangerous heat rushing through him.

A breathless, broken “ah~” left Noah’s lips before he could stop it.

The merman paused.

Blue eyes darkened, filled with something wild.

Panic surged through Noah’s chest. His body screamed at him to move. To run.

With all his strength, he tore himself free.

His foot connected with the merman’s stomach—just enough to loosen the grip. The moment Noah felt space between them, he swam upward with everything he had.

His arms sliced through the water. His chest screamed for air. Almost there. Almost—

He broke the surface.

Gasping, coughing, Noah kicked toward the shore, his limbs aching, his vision blurry. He didn’t dare look back. Didn’t dare see if the merman was following.

The sand beneath his hands felt like salvation. He stumbled forward, running on shaking legs, his heart still racing with fear and something else—something dangerous.

Noah reached his small house, slamming the door shut behind him.

He leaned against it, panting, his whole body quivering.

Then—he saw himself.

The mirror.

Noah’s breath caught.

His reflection was marked.

Red and black love bites stained his neck and collarbone, bruises dark and blooming where the merman had held him. His trembling fingers brushed over them, his skin sensitive, tingling.

His knees threatened to give out. He needed to sit.

But the moment he did—a sharp jolt of pleasure shot through him.

Noah’s eyes widened.

A sticky warmth leaked between his thighs.

His breath hitched as he touched himself, his fingers trembling. It was…

Cum.

A shiver ran through him as he looked lower.

There—along his **inner thighs—**was something worse.

Blood.

Noah’s stomach twisted. His pulse hammered in his ears as he scrambled toward the small wooden cabinet in the corner. His hands fumbled as he ripped it open, grabbing his first aid kit.

Shaking, he grabbed a cloth and tried to clean himself, his mind racing with confusion, fear… and something he didn’t want to name.

What… what had just happened?

And more importantly…

Why did part of him want to go back?

Noah sat on the wooden floor, his hands shaking as he wiped the blood from his thighs. His mind refused to process what had happened.

“This… This has to be a dream,” he whispered, forcing himself to breathe.

Maybe he was just exhausted. Maybe the stress of his breakup had finally caught up to him, making him hallucinate.

Yes. That had to be it.

There was no other explanation. Mermen weren’t real.

He just needed to focus on something else. Something normal.

So, he did what he always did. He went to sell fish.

The village market was bustling, filled with the salty scent of the sea and the chatter of customers. Noah sat in his small wooden stall, a basket of fresh fish in front of him.

With a deep breath, he forced a smile and called out in a rhythmic chant,

"Very, very cheap, one-pound fish! 20 for five pounds! One-pound fish!"

His voice blended with the lively marketplace, but inside, his thoughts were elsewhere. His fingers absentmindedly traced the bruises on his neck, hidden beneath the collar of his shirt.

Was it really a dream?

The feeling of teeth, of cold scales rubbing against him… It felt too real.

“Boy.”

Noah snapped out of his thoughts.

An old woman stood before him, hunched over with piercing gray eyes. She eyed his fish, then nodded.

“I’ll take the five-pound offer.”

Noah quickly wrapped up the fish and handed it to her. “Here you go, ma’am.”

The woman took the bundle, then paused. She stared at him.

“You look like you’ve been through something,” she muttered.

Noah stiffened. Did she see something? Did she know?

Before he could ask, the old woman reached into her tattered cloak and pulled out a small, worn-out book.

“I’ll give you this,” she said, placing it on his stall. “It’s free.”

Noah frowned. “What is it?”

“A book about the things that live in the sea.”

The moment her fingers left the book, she vanished.

No footsteps. No trace.

Just… gone.

A cold shiver ran down Noah’s spine.

His eyes dropped to the book.

The cover was old, the edges torn from years of handling. But the title was still clear:

“The Songs of the Deep: A Guide to Sirens, Mermen, and Creatures of the Abyss.”

Noah swallowed hard.

Maybe… maybe it wasn’t a dream after all.

To be continued

After a long day at the market, Noah trudged back home, his basket empty, but his mind full of questions.

The book the old woman had given him weighed heavily in his hands. Who was she? Why did she disappear?

More importantly—why did she give him this book?

As soon as he stepped inside his small house, a sharp sting shot through his legs.

Noah hissed, setting the book on the table before pulling off his pants. The cuts on his inner thighs were still bleeding.

His breath trembled as he grabbed his first aid kit again, carefully pressing a clean cloth against the wounds. The memory of cold scales rubbing between his legs sent an involuntary shiver through him.

He shook his head. No. Don’t think about it.

Once he was bandaged, Noah turned his attention back to the book. He hesitated before flipping it open, the pages yellowed and old, as if it had been written centuries ago.

His eyes skimmed the first chapter.

“The Day of the Sirens.”

The words sent an eerie chill down his spine.

He kept reading.

> And when the sirens rose from the abyss, the skies darkened, and the waters turned to blood. The people of the land trembled as the creatures of the deep destroyed everything in their path. Towns sank beneath the waves, screams were swallowed by the tides, and those who heard the song of the sirens fell into madness.

Noah swallowed hard.

The passage continued.

> But when all seemed lost, the people fell to their knees. They wept. They begged. They pleaded for mercy.

The ink on the page seemed darker here, almost like it had been written in something other than ink.

> And then—he rose.

He raised his fist before he spoke:

Noah’s fingers tightened around the edges of the book as he read the next line.

> "I am the righteous hand of God."

"I am the devil you so forgot."

"I told you one day I’d be back."

"I guaranteed it."

A sharp gust of wind rattled his window.

Noah’s heartbeat quickened.

Something wasn’t right.

The words in the book felt like more than just a legend.

They felt like a warning.

And deep down, Noah had a terrifying feeling that his encounter with the merman was only the beginning.

Noah slammed the book shut. His heart pounded in his chest.

“This is insane,” he whispered. “Are mermen… demons?”

The thought made his stomach churn. The way that creature had touched him, held him, bit him—it wasn’t human. But was it evil?

Noah shook his head. He needed proof.

He rushed to his kitchen, grabbing a pouch of salt. If myths were real, salt was supposed to ward off evil, right?

With a deep breath, he stuffed the pouch in his pocket and grabbed his fishing rod.

He had to know the truth.

The sea was calm that night, the moon casting a silver glow on the water. Noah sat in his small boat, gripping his fishing rod tightly.

He cast his line, but he wasn’t here for fish.

He was waiting.

Minutes passed. Then an hour.

The waves lapped gently against the boat. Nothing.

Maybe… maybe he was wrong. Maybe it really had just been his imagination.

Just as he was about to pull his line back in, a ripple disturbed the water.

Noah froze.

A dark shape moved beneath the surface.

It was here.

A moment later, something broke through the water.

Blue eyes. Black hair slicked back. Glowing skin illuminated by the moonlight.

The merman.

He wasn’t smiling this time.

He stared at Noah, unblinking. Watching. Waiting.

Noah’s breath hitched.

What do I do? What does it want?

Slowly, the merman raised a hand.

Holding a fish.

Noah’s eyes widened.

Was it… offering him food?

His grip on the salt pouch tightened.

Was this a trick? Or… was it trying to help?

The night air was silent. The only sound was the gentle rocking of the boat.

Then—the merman moved.

With a single, fluid motion, it grabbed the side of Noah’s boat and pulled itself closer.

Water dripped from its lips as it stared at him.

Noah’s pulse quickened. He should run. He should throw the salt.

But he didn’t move.

Because, for some reason…

The merman didn’t feel like a monster.

Not this time.

To be continued