The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Miranda
by Alyson Faye 

‘Miranda? Where are you? Are you hiding from me? You know there’s nowhere for the likes of you to go. You’re a freak.’

The lights around the lodge, with its wooden decking and hot tub, splayed outwards into the forest, eating into the shadows. A man, bulky, tall, carrying a harpoon gun, stepped out of the doorway. ‘I’ll count to three and you better let me see you.’ He grinned.

There was a rustling to his right, and he headed in that direction. Nothing stirred, then there were faint scrabbling noises, followed by a splash from the hot tub, water sprayed over the sides. A head bobbed up. A blue and gold-veined face stared around, eyes huge and fearful, head tilted on one side, listening. ‘Miranda’ as she’d been named, could hear the animals hunting, the death cry of one, the heartbeats of many, and the apex predator out there, her prison warder, the man, who called himself Malloy.

‘Mal-loy,’she hissed through lips, bleeding blue. Her eyes widened, the protective double lids flickered, so momentarily she appeared blind. She ducked her head beneath the hot tub’s waters, allowing the liquid to re-vitalize her skin, drinking it, feeling her flesh become buoyant. She needed this, every few hours, to live.

She turned, and sniffed the air, smelt the man’s sweat. He was returning. She hissed again, her tongue flickering out like a snake’s. She climbed out of the tub, and swift as a deer, she melded into the forest.

Malloy returning, was sweating and furious. ‘Sea-cow’s the right word for you. I’ve got another – bitch! I’m gonna find you. You can’t leave here.’

Buried in the leaves, amongst the tree’s sturdy roots, Miranda knew her captor spoke true. She had to bathe every two hours, or else the drying process would sweep over her, take her breath, her mind and finally mummify her body.

‘Mal-loy…’ her mind filled with sensations – his rough hands, the pain he inflicted, the salt of his skin, his hate and desire – entwined. The spines on her back lifted, in rage. She would not be his victim. She would not be his wife either. As others of her kind had agreed to in the tales of old. She crept out of her den, stood upright, and let the moon dress her. She knew her allure and her powers. He was, in the end, only a man.

‘Mal- loy!’ her voice sang out, high and pure. ‘I am here. I want you.’

The moon revealed the golden skin, the turquoise scales and eyes, of deep sapphire. She stood naked, whilst Malloy gazed rapt. His prize. His prisoner. She was beyond beautiful, she was unique and would make him rich.

‘Put down the harpoon,’ she crooned, her voice like molasses. ‘You do not want to hurt me.’ She stroked her body’s curves, watching Malloy’s eyes follow her finned fingers. She glowed with the power of the life-giving water, her skin sending out golden pulses of energy glittering in the darkness.

Malloy, as though hypnotized, stepped towards her, unbuttoning his shirt, then his belt. ‘Miranda… you’re so…’ he whispered, laying the harpoon gun down upon the earth.

‘Come to me,’ she sang, ‘be mine. We can be wed. Become one.’

Her eyes held his, her hands stroked his bare chest. Her skin was soft, moist. Malloy bent to kiss her. He couldn’t remember now why he had ever hated this creature or wanted to hurt her. She smelled of salt, and orchids, and something else, something more feral. Deep in her eyes, flickers of gold and blue danced.

As they kissed, a row of black-tipped spines sprouted from Miranda’s backbone, talons of coral erupted from her nails, and her teeth grew sharper as she bit down on Malloy’s lips, tasting blood and flesh. She tore at his chest, his face, his back, stripping off the warm flesh, whilst wrapping her legs around his waist, squeezing the breath from him.

Malloy screamed, through a lipless mouth, and blinded, he tried to fight free of the mer-creature, but to no avail. 

‘I said we would become one,’ she whispered.

 But only the trees heard her.

.

Fiction © Copyright Alyson Faye
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

More from Alyson Faye:

The Lost Girl & Spindleshanks

The Lost Girl
A nailed-up door. An inheritance which comes with a ghost. A missing girl. A fifty-year-old mystery. Parapsychologist Berkley Osgood is hired to investigate. What he uncovers reveals secrets the living want to hide and the dead will never forgive.

Spindleshanks
Adam is having nightmares about a skeletal shadow figure, who he calls Spindleshanks. Soon his whole class are sharing the same nightmare. Adam’s dad, Rob, knows that Spindleshanks can’t be real. But is he? One terrible night Rob has to face his son’s nightmare creature and fight for his son’s life. What would you sacrifice to have your child back safe?

“A decent two-for-one. Alyson Faye brings the engaging and eerie in equal measure.” CC Adams – horror / dark fiction author

Available on Amazon!