Wet Feet 2

Day One

My phone has no signal out in the middle of the Caribbean Oceans. When I jumped overboard I didn’t anticipate it would take this long for my beautiful siren to find me. It’s been roughly 18 hours now and I finally decided to press record on the voice recorder of my phone. At least if my body is discovered dead of starvation they will know it wasn’t fowl play.

In the twenty hours on this life boat I began to realize it was my own ludicrous thoughts and delusions that got me here. When I saw the mysterious siren I felt magic, when she saved me and whispered in my ear that she would find me I thought it was meant to be, and labeled it my destiny. My beautiful siren mermaid queen; with bosoms like volley balls, and a glow in her eyes that made the moon jealous.

Now roughly twenty hours later I questioned my own sanity. Was she real or a figment of my mind. Repressed fear, drugs, and copious amounts of alcohol could have been the perfect recipe for me to concoct such a hallucination.

Rebeca was a bit stiff and not perfect, but she could have led to a good life. Was the Siren some imaginary device I had created to feed into my fear of commitment and avoid marrying the woman.

Real or not many would label me insane. I’ve lived most of my life like this, on a whim following instincts and intuition. Up until today it had never caused me great tragedy, but now as I came upon my final snacks and saw no beautiful magic siren in sight, I began to question my decision. Who knows how far the cruise ship had ventured out before realizing I was gone. Had they sent out rescue parties? Would I starve out here? If found how would I explain this to Rebeca, and would she accept my explanation?

Too many questions attacked my mind, while the pangs of hunger simultaneously attacked my stomach, like young starving children clawing at my insides. All I could do is lay at the bottom of the life boat close my eyes and try to sleep.

It took hours to find the sandman, and even before I did I’d stir awake, and glance around swearing to myself that I heard the soft beautiful sound of a singing siren in the distance. Only after searching the horizon of the dark choppy ocean waters to see nothing or finding only a mere bird in sight did I begin to reach the realization that I must be crazy. With this in mind I’d let the hunger and discouragement end my night, and finally find a restless slumber.

Day Two:

Choppy waves and squawking birds wake me from a shallow slumber. The birds spy me with a hunger in their eyes, and I wonder if they intend to feed on my deceased carcass.

My stomach growls and I open my final snack; a bag of mixed nuts. I ration out a portion and toss them down choking and coughing on their salty and chalky texture. Now as hunger diminishes slightly it’s a thirst that fills me.

My throat dry and parched, rough like sandpaper I long for a drink. For a moment I even contemplate drinking saltwater but recall hearing it could be fatal so I decide against it.

I figure to my self if things get that bad maybe I can drink my own pee or maybe I could catch a small fish or bird later on. Anything to end this hunger or thirst.

The notion expends my energy, and I wind up lying in my self made prison that is a life boat. I stare back at the evil birds while visions of Rebeca and the sea siren dance in my head. Oh how I long for a warm bed and warm embrace.

By nightfall it’s raining. I’m drenched and even in the warm Caribbean air I’m cold, and have already grown lonely to a point where I contemplate jumping in the ocean once more to meet my end. I try to fight and paddle some, but the lack of progress and exhaustion cause me to give up after mere minutes. Instead I collapse once more fighting thoughts and drinking my own tears until I fall asleep.

Day Three:

I awaken having floated more down the Caribbean. With no search party or helicopter in sight dismay consumes me, eating away at me like a hungry predator.

In the distance seabirds dive like kamikazes. Further out I see sulking dolphins swimming frenziedly about. I say a silent prayer hoping that I could be fortunate enough to live out a story I heard where dolphins guided a young Cuban boy to land.

Thirty minutes later the dolphins vanish into the horizon like some mirage teasing me. I take a long breath and find my eyes hypnotized by the dancing waters. Then I see schools of small fish darting by. My heart skips a beat. “Surely my luck is changing.” I think to myself. It couldn’t be to hard to catch a fish, or maybe there is land near by.

Intent on not giving up I create a makeshift net from my shirt. As a schools of fish dart past I try valiantly to catch one, but have no luck, then in the distance my eyes freeze like a victim in a horror movie.

The fins around me now are no dolphins. No I instantly recognize these as sharks. They circle my small vessel with devious intentions. I fear not just for my life, but for the painful end that may soon befall me.

To surrender to the situation and pray seems my only option. My heart is frozen like an unthawed slab of meat. Tears are streaming down my eyes and urine tickles my leg. I don’t stir about, I just lay still motionless at the bottom of the life boat, crying and praying. I beg for forgiveness and apologize for my every sin. Mostly I apologize for leaving Rebeca in a way that would leave her devastated and looking like a fool.

Then in the midst of my strongest prayer I hear the song. The song of my siren savio, only this time it’s echoed by masses like some great chorus over the Caribbean Ocean. At first I think I’m dreaming, lost in another frightful delusion, but as I slowly sit up and peer around the lifeboat I seem them.

A small mob of fins and beautiful faces. Some light, some olive, some dark, all possessing their own unique exotic beauty. They rise from the ocean waters in an almost majestic manner, and begin circling the sharks that circle me. Their beautiful song that once echoed above the waters surface now turns to a fierce rhythm of hissing and clicks.

Some draw tridents and gracefully strike at the sharks like air force fighter jets. Dark blue waters turn murky with blood. Some sharks are struck down, and others are lucky enough to swim away.

The mermaids maintain a circular formation around my small vessel until she breaks forth submerging and ascending before me.

The lump in my throat feels as if I’ve swallowed a boulder. It’s her my siren. She’s saved me twice now, and her beauty is immeasurable. Her red hair is ravenous, but looks soft a cloud. Her bosoms look like pillows of the finest quality, her lips look like edible delicacies, and her eyes are portals to another universe.

I smile softy as she clicks something indistinguishable, but I understand her to be saying told you I would come find you. I lean forward and we share a soft kiss. She smiles some and grabs my vessel followed by the other mermaids.

They swim and guide my the simple boat over wild ocean waters with grace and ease. Time ceases to exist, as I watch in astonishment as the vessel travels the water in such a miraculous manner.

Some two hours and a half later my jaw drops, almost unhinged at the strange luminous cavern that I have been guided to. It sits adjacent to a waterfall, and as we enter its damp iridescent walls my heart skips another beat.

There surrounded by water is a small island, no larger than a small bedroom. In its center a large throne and to its right an archaic bed made of moss and seaweed.

The sirens push the craft onto the small makeshift island throne room, and my siren queen splashes beside me. She hisses and clicks again in her foreign distinct language that I somehow understand. “Make yourself comfortable, we will bring food, drink, and wine. Eat and rest my king.”

Her words bring a soft smile to my face, as I force my malnourished body onto the landmass. I glance around and sit on the throne that upon closer inspection I can see is made of stones, skeletal remains, and seaweed. I transfer back and forth between both, and smile to myself pleased with how comfortable they are.

“Looks like you did it again, that good old intuition came through. Made a hard decision that no one would make, but look at me now.”

As I gloat to myself, I watch in delight as a small troop of mermaids start laying out food and drink galore before me. Grapes, lobster, fish, and meats are laid beside a pot above a fire. I lay on the moss and seaweed bed feeling the satisfaction of a king only to become more elated by the second.

First I watch in awe as siren rest on her fin and tosses food in an out of the pot cooking up dishes that send a wonderful aroma through the air.

Then my siren goddess comes aside me once more. She feeds me grapes in royal fashion and in the midst of my grape eating sneaks in sweet salt water kiss that liter my skin with goosebumps.

When I’ve gotten my fair share of grapes and kisses I find the strength and courage to muster up my first words.

“What is your name my dear?” I ask her full of curiosity. She pauses momentarily and looks at me like an awe struck pet, then through another series of clicks and hisses she answers me. “My name is Persephone. I am the queen of our tribe, and you now are king.”

I tilt my head and nod with a soft smile. “Well I guess I can get used to that. I like the ring to it king. King Kevin Cross from businessman to mermaid king.” I said with a chuckle.

Moments later I’m presented with a large bowl. It’s scent tugs at my nostrils and stomach a like. The lobster, fish, and meats are all savory and succulent and dance in my stomach with delight.

With full belly I lay on the comfortable moss and seaweed bed only to be greeted with yet another surprise. Persephone comes beside me tugging away at my pants.

Through clicks I hear her say the word wash in my mind, and before I can complete my nod I feel cold hands and sponge like textures come over my body.

At first it’s pleasant and innocent, but as I grow eager with the delight I can feel the mermaids begin to take turns pleasuring me until I explode.

Some taste my seed and another captures it in a small bottle. By the end of the ordeal I drift into a deep and pleasant slumber that could rival that of a patient undergoing anesthesia.

Day Ten:

For the next week or so my days and nights are spent pretty much in the same fashion. I’m fed a feast, I’m pleasured numerous times through out the day by various mermaids, and I sleep.

Sometimes I get in the water with Persephone. We kiss and have our own form of strange intimacy and love making that I don’t share with the other mermaids. It is this that I sought, and this that makes the routine and limited environment worth it.

The deep intimacy and love that I share with Persephone is one I could not describe, nor have I shared with anyone else, and with every touch and kiss I know that I made the right decision. When she looks me in the eyes, or is beside me I know my reward is far more than just being a king to these creatures.

In my mermaids den or cavern there is no time. There are no clocks, but I can feel a sense of day and night still lurking inside me, and while I don’t know the exact day or time I know it is around midnight and a week in this paradise when everything shifts.

As I lay deep in a comatose like sleep from releasing to countless mermaids and their acts of pleasure, I find myself awakened to feel their strong hands upon me once again. At first I think this is merely just another act sexual act on their part. Even as seaweed vines tie me to the sea crafted bed I think to myself this is just another act of mermaid foreplay.

“Ladies, ladies I appreciate the enthusiasm but even a king needs his rest. What’s this the tenth time today.” I say jokingly as I’m strapped and tied firmly to the sea bed.

It isn’t until the bed is lifted and placed in front of the island that I begin to panic. As I see Persephone across the water with a large snaking blade my heart sinks.

The sirens eyes which were once beautiful portals of color have now changed to a beady harsh red like that of blood thirsty rodents. They begin to hiss and click erratically.

I don’t understand the masses, but as Persephone draws near and clicks and hisses I understand her.

“Thank you for being our offering, our nourishment, and our seed for tomorrow’s generation. In the name of Mami Wata and her holy Goddess Atargatis we thank you Kevin Cross for you sacrifice. Hail Mami Wata and her goddess Atargatis!”

The cry, and chorus of clicks grows louder and rabid. I struggle as Persephone draws near, but it’s to no avail. I’m paralyzed as the blade finds its way in my belly, and then proceeds to make slices over my body.

As blood spews and taints the waters red, the mermaids eyes grow equally crimson. Their beautiful smiles turn to fangs and ravenous teeth. Some drink and suck my blood while others tear at my flesh like primal rabid beast. Their bites carnal and hungry, tearing flesh from bone like starving scavengers.

My cries echo out in the cavern and to my surprise seem to bring them only more delight and ecstasy. With each scream I can see smiles spread across their blood stained faces, as they tear and dig into my flesh like a hungry family devouring a turkey on Thanksgiving.

As I fade in an out of consciousness I see flashes of Rebeca and Marcos in my mind. If only I had stood with them on that damn boat I’d be safe and happy. Maybe not fully happy, but I would be content and escape this horrid fate. Her face stays in my mind and the burning desire to see my Rebeca and what could have become of us is one of my final thoughts as I pass out from pain and anguish.

When I wake I’m left barely alive. A skeletal carcass of bones and scraps of meat. My whimpers and cries reduced to the meager sound of air being sucked through my chattering teeth. I’m dying slow, my hearts faltering. All I can think is how I should have stood on that damn ship. I see her face as I take my last breath. She wasn’t perfect, but it surely would have been better than this.