Darkness.
Not the kind that makes you squint or reach for a light switch. No. This was the kind of darkness that wrapped around your throat and whispered, you don't belong here.
I wasn't sure how long I was unconscious. Seconds? Minutes?
The emergency lights flickered back to life in a sickly red glow, casting everything in shadow. The hum of the engine was gone. All I could hear was the sound of my own breathing, ragged and shallow.
"Captain?" I croaked.
No response.
I reached for my seatbelt, fingers trembling. The silence was worse than the noise. And the worst part? The feeling I wasn't alone.
Then I saw it.
The front viewport, half-fogged from condensation, showed nothing but a wall of black water—until a faint, glowing shape appeared. At first, I thought it was a jellyfish, maybe bioluminescent plankton. But it moved with purpose. Too gracefully. Too… human.
I leaned forward. My breath hitched.
He was staring straight at me.
A figure—tall, impossibly elegant—floated just outside the glass. His body shimmered like liquid silver, his long hair dancing with the current. Scales lined his arms, catching the red light and reflecting it like fire. But it was his eyes that held me there—ice blue, glowing, ancient.
He wasn't a dream.
And definitely not human.
I should've screamed. I should've panicked. But all I did was press my hand to the glass, as if that would help me understand what I was seeing.
He raised his hand slowly and mirrored me—palm to palm, with only inches of glass and gallons of sea between us.
The moment felt... unreal.
Then his expression changed. He frowned, eyes narrowing. I felt a pulse in the water, and without touching anything, the sub trembled again. Warning or threat, I couldn't tell.
Then his voice echoed inside my mind—not through the comms, not through the hull. Inside my head.
"You were not meant to see me."
I gasped, jerking away from the glass. "What… what are you?"
But he didn't answer. He just stared, then flicked his tail once and disappeared into the dark.
The sub lights flickered on fully. Systems rebooted. The captain groaned and sat up.
"What happened?" he mumbled.
"I saw something," I said quietly, still staring at the glass. "Someone."
He blinked. "What do you mean someone?"
"I think… I think it was a merman."
The captain looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Lila, you must've hit your head—"
"I'm serious."
Before he could argue, the sonar lit up again. Something large was moving just beneath us. But this time, it didn't feel hostile.
"Let's get back to the surface," he said. "Now."
I didn't protest. My heart was still racing. My fingers trembled. But part of me wanted to dive deeper. Wanted to chase that glowing figure. Because when he looked at me, it felt like he knew me.
Like I belonged to the ocean more than I ever belonged on land.
End of Chapter 2