u/Direct_Development93

After what felt like hours of trying to drain that disturbing imagery out of my head, I slowly crept towards the clipboard. I didn’t want the fish guts all over my body as I felt grossed out by this environment to begin with. If the hand of the skeleton was clinched to the clipboard, I wouldn’t be attempting this. Thankfully that didn’t happen and I held the message of a fallen partner. I stared at the words wondering what I should do. Do I erase his final message to who could’ve directed towards his wife in the basement or do I leave it?

How do you tell someone that the man they loved and cherished is butchered to a bloody mess upstairs? You couldn’t even mutter that as an explanation or at least try to. She probably knew what happened to her mate after the failed escape attempt. This message would’ve been like old wounds festering on a body trying to heal. I decided to wipe out the final words and close that torture chamber of a room.

The crawl through was tough, but I managed. Despite my frail body landing on the previously used step ladder of a suitcase, I pulled myself up. “Ow my back,” I croaked as I sat up to readjust myself. Picking up the diving slate from the floor and treading through empty beer cans I found all the tools. I put the items down on my suitcase and screwed the legs of the stairwell back in to hide my intrusion.

I grabbed a snack from the kitchen, a small handful of pretzels plated on the drawing slab. Luckily the pencil was placed into my pocket so I wouldn’t risk digesting any graphite or puncturing a lung or stomach. I balanced the salty snacks on the writing board and began moving slowly down the steps. Each step was carefully coordinated for an elderly woman. Not only was I walking, but I did indulge in the occasional pretzel piece.

Thankfully there were no floor pretzel casualties as I made it to the basement. I walked slowly to the tank. “Hey I think I found what you were asking for? I also brought you something new to try your welcome to not finish your plate, but I promise you that you might enjoy it.” I watched as the aquatic notebook floated on top of the water like a small boat.

I saw a fishy hand emerge from the water and scrape the food into the water. The examination continued as I waited for something if not anything to happen. It took awhile until the notepad returned back to the surface. Thankfully the reach wasn’t too far for me to grab the notepad. I turned the notepad around to see what she jotted down.

Despite being an aquatic animal, her handwriting wasn’t terrible. “Hello human you must free me from captivity,” I read silently and noticed some spare space down below. I took the graphite pencil and jotted down an answer as well as my own question. “I will help you, but first you need to tell me how this happened.” The notepad went downwards to the green seafloor after floating. I waited patiently for an answer to emerge. The chances of a mermaid existing let alone being caught by a human were slim if none. Despite pitching one question I knew more would surface.

I retrieved the floating notepad and turned it around. My mind began to paint the scenario of what happened in my brain. “I am Queen Aurora of the Mermaids. Our kind didn’t interact with humans until we discovered one near our domain. The person we met seemed nice as he was joined by their partner. At first they were fascinated by the world and people as well as wanted to learn about them.”

I begged to learn what happened next. The person had to have been The Man, but the fact he had a partner in love with him interested me. He never mentioned this during the interview nor did I see any pictures of them together. In fact, now that I think about it, he didn't keep any photos out of anyone around his house. No frames hung on the walls or displayed on the table that showed any semblance of life.

The notepad was returned to me against the pool. “Then one day a tragedy befell beyond the sea as the person returned to our domain alone. Something happened to them to cause this change of emotions, they were more sad and demanding then kind and considerate. It was clear what their intentions were. They believed we could raise the dead.”

The Man seemed to be protective of mermaids until their significant other passed away. He must've thought fairy tales of mermaids raising the dead wasn't just fiction, but a possibility. “That’s when he captured you?” I asked before sticking my hand into the green water. I chuckled a little as the mermaid tickled my fingers to retrieve her source of communication.

I removed my hands from the filthy water and wiped them clean on my clothes. It took a little while to get an answer, but she handed me back the clipboard. “Yes he was going to capture all of us, but the king and I sacrificed ourselves so they could go into hiding. We thought it was only temporary as ‘pets’ only it wasn’t. Although adults can’t raise the dead, children can through their blood.”

My expression turned grim as I read the last sentence. The Man wanted the Queen and King to bring a child into the world only for their blood to be siphoned out of their body. I understood losing a partner could destroy somebody. It nearly destroyed me when I lost my husband, but I would never sacrifice someone else’s life to bring him back. It's not right for both parties, especially a newborn child.

Now an escape was my main priority for Aurora. The Man was sure to return and when he finds out what I know, he’ll definitely do something. He wasn’t gonna bribe me to shut up, he was going to get rid of me. I didn’t tell anyone about this client nor told my daughter who lives in another state. I was going to surprise her with a visit after this job, but now death was going to be taking me in the form of this sinister client.

I grabbed a pen then took a deep breath before writing down the final message. This was the last message I remember before things took a turn. Before my life changed for what could only be described as the worst period of my life. I wrote down, “I will free you.” I watched as the notepad was retrieved only this time as the message wasn’t written back. Aurora just gave me the simplest of gestures, a thumbs up as we both began to brew an escape plan for the good of the land and sea.

END OF PART 6.

Hello everyone, I have been okay since the last part. Nature walks with a basset hound which ultimately ends with me carrying an oversize butterball have been the cure to my dreadful symptoms. After sitting the pampered pooch on the couch, I gave him some careful rubs to the belly and began to go back to my computer. Despite quitting, I still know how to take care of canines. Anyway, back to my story.  
 The next day was a quick breakfast for me. I had an Eggo Waffle which was delicious without the syrup. I decided not to feed the mermaid a waffle because it would’ve soaked up like a dilapidated sponge when floating in her pool. With that mental note in my head I decided to feed her another bacon egg and cheese biscuit made by the chef known as Jimmy Dean. After delivering the merlady a breakfast sandwich I became fixated on the gate.  
I started at the sign with defiance not taking the words “Stay out” to heart. Getting in was difficult and I didn’t exactly have the strength of the Incredible Hulk if anything I had the strength of Rose Nylund. The majority of the day was spent finding a tool of some kind to open the gate without damaging the lock. If the lock was broken, The Man would be angry and considering what happened to the little mermaid down there I didn’t want to feel his wrath. The game of hide and seek was taking a toll on the body of this old girl. 

I slide down against the wall in the hallway. Coughing and hacking a possible lung led to me kicking a wooden pillar that held the rail. I felt my leg go straight through and began fearing that I broke some. Luckily the small wooden club was just loose and didn’t snap in half, examining the others I realized I could crawl though. Before I knew it I unscrewed two more pillars to ensure I could slide through, now the only problem was finding something to stand on. 

I decided to use my suitcase as a step ladder for something. The beer can trash heap was kicked with a swift right leg before the traveling companion was put to the hardwood floor. The self-made steps were wonky for me to balance on and nearly tripped twice. Luckily I managed to pull myself through the hole I made. The amount of strength I used to climb was a good enough workout for me. 

I coughed during an attempt to catch the steam I’ve lost. I made it to the steps now it was time to see what lurked on the second floor. The journey upwards felt tedious for a girl who hated steps, but I managed to charter into the 2nd floor. I kept wondering what would be there. Was it nothing or was it going to be a mermaid to human translator collar? Wait what am I talking about? That sounds too ridiculous to even exist.

The upstairs area was split into two sides. The right side nearly gave me a heart attack, as I was greeted by a realistic stuffed shark. That statue was posed as if it was on the verge of attacking me, but thankfully this isn’t possible. My eyes to see the sight of more animals stuffed from deer and boar heads on a mantle, a stuffed cougar with a stuffed bird in its mouth, and finally a black bear that was the size of my car perched beside a camo recliner. The chilling nature of dead eyes as well as this being the only room in the house that was clean and had a small tv. This was more than any sign to get out while I still can.  
The left side seems to be an office or workstation of some kind. There was the computer desk which housed a computer, but the area was filthy with crumbled up pieces of paper, the eye candy was a map of what looked to be an ocean. The poster was littered with Xs all over it except for one O with the red sharpie circled around a blue paper patch that said “breeding ground” in sloppy handwriting. I stared at that phrase wondering what it could mean, as the ocean was a massive amount of wetlands that housed many aquatic creatures. My hand slipped onto the keyboard to wake it up which shined on my face.  
I winced from the temporary blindness before readjusting my eyes. What laid on the computer screen was a word document that featured a page that was typed by The Man. I don’t remember every sentence, but the general consensus was preparing for a trip on the open waters and how he needed someone to watch his “specimen”. That’s when it clinched it for me. The bruises, the mucky water, and now referring to her as a “specimen” it was clear that this guy didn’t have a pet mermaid. This wasn’t love at all, it was abuse.

I decided to dig further to see if he left anything else. I discovered to my surprise that the female sea siren wasn’t alone, she was caught with a male. I hadn’t seen the male downstairs nor did I recall him mentioning two fish during the initial interview. The likelihood of him being in the tank still lingered until I scrolled down to 2 weeks before he reached out to me. I remember what he wrote down vividly, because what I discovered afterwards haunted me. 

He started talking about how the fishy couple weren’t lustful or craving the sexual desires necessary to procreate. He tried to feed them worms and or seaweed, but they weren’t won over.  His patience was running thin because he wanted to exploit them. Apparently he didn’t see the species as endangered, only a blank check to make him rich. The pinnacle of a looming outburst all started when he caught the male out of the tank they were in.  
He states that the mermaid leaped out of the fish tank and landed on the basement floor. The specimen then used what little breath he had left to crawl up the basement stairs. He would’ve died either way, but knew freedom lay behind the door upstairs. The Man opened the door to discover the jailbreak, and although there was a struggle. The Man won the twisted game of tug of war and dragged him upstairs by his fin. He then finished that entry by saying he took care of him.

My heart panged and sadness for the creature, her life partner died trying to escape and she probably didn’t even know. Maybe that’s why she sent me upstairs. Maybe she thought he was still alive somewhere and that he could’ve formulated a plan for an escape. Only he wasn’t up here, he wasn’t stuffed or else he would’ve been near the other trophies. He wasn’t near the computer or hidden beneath the mess. 

The only things left on this side were weapons, mainly firearms from small guns to shotguns. Of course there were bullets nearby which amplified my fears. Part of me wanted to hide the guns or ammo, but knew the risk it could have so I left them be and made sure the computer appeared untouched. The last thing I noticed was the black door near the back.

I gulped, staring at the immediate path. Something was behind the door. I just didn’t know what to do. I kept dreaming this was all a nightmare I couldn’t wake up. I screamed internally to “go back down stairs” as my body moved closer and closer to the dark threshold. My hands shook as I gripped the yellow doorknob and slowly began to open the door.

The smell was death entering my nose causing my nose hairs to burn. I gasped and covered my mouth in devastation. The horrors were severe to the point where I had nightmares over being in this room. This wasn’t like a horror movie set where everything was fake and the person playing the victim was alright. This was real and grotesque. 

The room was an old bathroom converted into what could only be described as an Aquatic Slaughterhouse. A pool of blood with a skeleton that seemed to have been picked away by the minute as it laid in the bathtub. The sink housed old blood-stained tools from a cattle prod, a sickle, a hacksaw and a butcher knife. I glanced down not wanting to face the twisted cruelty on display and that’s when my eyes caught two objects down on the gory floor of red splatters. 

One of them was what looked to be a white clipboard facing down with a graphite pencil beside it. I turned the clipboard over to see the only word written on it was “HELP” where the ‘p’ was trailing down. Those were his final words. Then finally what made my skin turn green was a bucket that was labeled “PET FOOD” smeared in what was red plasma from the deceased.

END OF PART 5.

I have been having nightmares since part 3. The thought holding its small round blue iris and black pupil laid dormant in my mind until now. I’ve tried getting it out of my head, but nothing has worked. How would you get something like that out of your head? It's not easy I know, but it's been 1 year since all of this happened.

I decided to take a breather from my computer before continuing. I took a walk to regain my composure. The sun was out with little to no chance of rain. I was a little down by this because the rain was often a calming sensation to help with my nerves. After sitting down for 30 minutes I decided to return to that experience. I wheeled my office chair towards the computer ready to continue the nightmare.

That day was a total mess, I sat upstairs feeling sick. After that mess I clinched onto the idea of what this place really was. From the bruises to the behavior of the water maiden to the filthy tank conditions to what I just saw escape the bucket. This place wasn’t paradise, it was a prison for this creature. The facts that I came up with outweigh any suspicion that this guy wasn’t innocent. The clock read 4:00 pm and I knew dinner time was on the horizon. I figured I would eat something small like a bologna sandwich if my stomach could handle it, however I didn’t know what ‘she’ could eat.

I sat up and immediately went to the kitchen to make my dinner. The recipe for a bologna sandwich meal for one is as follows. Step one: grab the bread no matter what kind. Step two: toast the bread or just put it on a paper towel or plate, it all depends on your preference. The Man didn’t keep a toaster so it looks like a soft sandwich is on the menu. Step three: grab a piece of bologna and the bright yellow liquid from a plastic yellow French's bottle. The fourth and final step is putting the masterpiece together and just like that you have in my opinion, a proper bologna sandwich.

I devoured that thing easily mainly because dinner was my first meal of the day that I could actually stomach. The second was soon plated for the aquatic animal downstairs. The journey downwards was met with shivers on my spine as I remembered what happened. I took a deep breath before walking towards the pool. I knew she was down there, but I figured she should know who’s up on the surface.

“Hey it's me again Lila…. I’m-I’m going to feed you… that anymore. Instead I made you a special delicacy that I enjoy. It's a bologna sandwich with mustard, the bread isn’t toasted but I think you’ll like it.”

I slowly dumped the plate into the green liquid. The sandwich floated for a while before my eyes witnessed it dip into the water. I waited for a while before deciding to ask the question every curious sandwich maker asks. “Did you like it?” I called out and watched as a white finger held up a fishy thumb. This alone made my heart swell up in happiness as communication was being established between us.

“You can speak to me if you want, I promise you I won’t hurt you.” This was met with no answer. “Okay so you're not much of a talker. How do you exactly suppose we talk?” It took a while for an answer but this one left my brain racking for days. The lady of the deep sea pulled out her arm and held it up in the air with one finger pointing up. Afterwards she remained silent, she didn’t speak after that nor interacted with me.

The only Brightside about this encounter was that she was a fan of my styles of sandwiches. However I didn’t know what she was talking about, after all that could mean a number of things. She could’ve been asking for one more sandwich or something else that requires one amount. Maybe she needs a minute. I truthfully didn’t know what she wanted nor what the answer was. I stared at the ceiling for what could’ve been 1 hour, who knows.

I decided to drink a ginger ale before calling it a night. The sound of the can opening and the liquid bubbling was soothing to me. It was the calm in the storm brewing in my brain as the metal containing carbohydrates met my lips. They finally separated from each other as I scanned the inside making sure all the lights were off. I passed the stairs and that dreaded sign. At first nothing popped into my mind until I remembered what she was doing. She wasn’t asking for anything, she was pointing up.

The Mermaid wanted something from upstairs. What was it that she needed? Whatever it was, it was something that she needed in order to communicate with me. I stared at the blocked passageway and knew that the answer was beyond that gate and come hell or high water I am going to get up there.

END OF PART 4.