Currently, I reside inside The Neverwood Facility For Young Monsters. I was asked by my therapist to write down my experience losing my humanity. This is what I wrote.

…

I always wanted to be a mermaid as a little kid.

I guess my fixation first stemmed from my obsession with water—or pools when I was younger. I’ve looked for an explanation online, but there isn’t one. For reasons unknown, as a child I was mesmerised by water. Not real water. But the water on TV. Real water freaked me out. Mom would take me to the local pool during the summer and I have a vague memory of being wrapped in floaties and accidentally bobbing over to the deep end of the pool.

I only went under for maybe half a second, though it was enough to make me realise real-life water was not fun. Real life water could hurt me. The pools on GTA however, when my dad used to play it on the family TV, was where it was at. Yep. I would sit there for hours on end watching my dad playing Grand Theft Auto, waiting for the magical moment when he’d suddenly dive into the sea, or even better, some random person’s fancy pool.

It didn’t matter if he drowned, I just enjoyed those precious moments of the little character diving into the depths, the funny motion he did with his arms and legs as bubbles exploded around him and the bar at the top of the screen started to flash red. I would crawl over to the TV and press my face against the screen, scanning every pixel for underwater life. It was the same for every game. If there was a water level or a pool level, or enough water to submerge my character, I was in heaven.

The first level in Kingdom Hearts on the beach? I would just force Sora to swim out as far as the game would let me—much to my siblings' annoyance. Hitman (I can’t remember which one) I would direct him into a pool. Regardless of whatever the guy’s mission was, Agent 47 was going swimming.

I’m not sure why I was so fascinated by pools on the TV. They just looked pretty. As I got older, I attached myself to water-related, and then mermaid related media. The Little Mermaid, Aquamarine, and Splash to name a few. I was that kid who searched for “mermaid potions” online and was convinced if I swallowed a glass of salt water and prayed really hard, I would grow my own tail. Thankfully, I grew out of whatever the hell that was. After finding a picture of what a real mermaid looked like, or at least the ones from lore—and they in fact looked nothing like Disney’s depictions, I was put off by them.

Especially when I read they lured people to their deaths. But that’s every fairy-tale, right? Magic always comes from the darkest and most twisted tales ever written.

I wasn’t expecting to find a mermaid restaurant in one of the most remote parts of Japan.

Sure, I knew Japan had some interestingly themed café’s, but this one stood out. It was supposed to be a vacation. Japan—a two week stay in Hokkaido, the northernmost of Japan’s islands, famous for its food, hot springs, and ski resorts. I had spent four years planning this trip.

I was sixteen when I decided I was going to go to Japan in my second year of college, and in the middle of Summer of 2018, three of my housemates and I landed in the capital. After spending the first half of our trip in Tokyo, and stuffing ourselves with mouth-watering cuisine, we were ready for a change. According to every video I had watched on YouTube related to tourism in Japan, as well as Kenji, my half Japanese housemate who was acting as our sort of tour guide, Hokkaido was the best place to find local dishes we wouldn’t find anywhere else.

Born in the south of Japan and quickly moving to America before he turned two years old, Kenji was fluent in the language despite living in South Carolina for most of his life. It was his parents who were determined not to leave their culture and language behind, so growing up, he had quickly gotten used to speaking both Japanese and English, favouring Japanese when he was comfortable with us, and we could just about speak the very basics. When he was drunk, Kenji didn’t bother translating. So, we were pretty much in the dark about whatever he was laughing about.

I can admit, however, that I was an idiot for expecting him to know exactly where we were going. I already knew Hokkaido was going to be deserted in places. We were warned that some towns’ populations were tiny, with most of them being elderly people, and not all of them were foreigner friendly.

I could understand that.

I would too if I was them. But we were determined to get the full experience, and if that included being turned away by locals, I figured I could deal with it.

Our bus dropped us in the middle of nowhere, a small coastal town with a dwindling population. We found the Mermaid restaurant after almost an hour of searching for a place to eat—and getting turned away from three café’s.

Again, I didn’t blame these people. I would be weirded out too if four tourists appeared in our small little town which wasn’t used to strangers. Kenji would go in to test the waters and see how the locals were—and they seemed okay with him. It was when the rest of us peeked in, the owners eyes sort of widening, and suddenly they were closing soon—and when Sara pointed to the sign on the door which translated to “open late” they were ushering us out, and I was trying real hard not to be offended.

These guys were polite in the nicest way possible but made it very clear our presence made them uncomfortable. So, we kept looking. Until Sara found a place on Google Maps. The place translated to “water café” and that was exactly what we wanted. Food—and the perfect view of the sea. It was a ten minute walk, and right next to the ocean. The photos on the website didn’t even give it justice.

The building was old and crumbling, and yet still standing strong on top of the sea, a giant dolphin carved into the roof. The sun was setting when we rushed in with rapidly melting ice-cream we had gotten from a nearby vendor. Sara was already freaking out because the sea was so close, and Kenji jumped onto a platform and stood on his tiptoes, taking as many different angled photos as possible. The last time I saw the sun for a really long time was that night.

I remember staring up and grinning at a cotton candy coloured sunset which blended in with ocean waves slamming into rocks below. I remember wanting nothing more than to stay in that exact position forever. Moving down the platform set up for outside dining, we were standing right over the sea—and when I peered over, my stomach flipped over. I couldn’t swim well, and yet the idea of diving into the watery oblivion below was strangely appealing.

I was in awe as soon as I stepped through automatic doors into the restaurant, revelling in the air con. Japanese summers were brutal. Not necessarily because of the heat, but because of the humidity. We had only been there for maybe six of seven days, and I was going through three shirts a day, and maxing out five cans of deodorant. The sudden blast of ice-cold in my air was perfect.

Nate and Sara were already rushing inside, freaking out over an ancient vending machine full of brightly coloured seals, and I was following hesitantly behind them, with a nervous looking Kenji at my side. The place was mostly empty to my surprise. It was the middle of summer, and this beautiful restaurant sitting right on the edge of the sea had barely any customers. I guessed it was a small town so they didn’t have many patrons.

The place was large, lit up in warm golden light and a low ceiling. While Nate and Sara grabbed us window seats and Kenji ordered food, I found myself mesmerised by a large glass tank spanning the circumference of the room. At first, I didn’t see her. I was hypnotised by glowing blue water—my childlike self seeping back into me. But then there she was, a beautiful woman with hair the colour of the night.

At first I thought she was some kind of performer doing water-tricks for customers. Then though, I realised she didn’t have legs. Instead, a long bluish tail. For a moment, I was startled. Looking at this girl, there was no sign of breathing equipment or even an inclination that she was struggling to breathe underwater. And yet there she was, right at the bottom, her hands pressed against the glass. I couldn’t resist, pressing my palm to the ice-cold surface. I wanted to join her, suddenly.

The water looked so good. So tempting.

“She’s not real, genius.”

A voice startled me, and I twisted around to find Kenji three inches from my face, a smirk curving on his lips. It was his ponytail which had attracted me to him upon first meeting. At that point, he’d said he couldn’t be bothered to cut it and was waiting for the right time. He never did.

Now, it was his staple style; a loose ponytail, stark black hair straying in playful eyes, and a dimpled smile I often found myself captivated by. Kenji was the first guy I had met who suited ponytails, and that only attracted me more. Moving in with the guy, however, had made me realise he was more of an annoying younger brother type. You know, the kind of guy who never cleans up after himself and has an unhealthy obsession with video games. I was expecting him to join me. His facial expression was teasing as usual, brown flecked eyes drinking me in, a brow raised. When I could only frown at him, he shrugged and pointed to a sign stuck to the tank—which I had failed to notice. “I’m not great with Kanji, but I’m pretty sure that means she’s fake.” Kenji nodded to the sticker. “See? It says it right there.”

Turning back to the girl in the tank, I could only protest with a laugh. When I was really looking, though, I noticed her tail wasn’t moving—or it was, but only in intervals. Her face looked real, but her body was more of a mannequin-like form which looked robotically controlled. When the mermaid’s fingers tapped the tank, I had to hold in a hiss. Jeez, I couldn’t believe I thought she was real for a moment. “Her name is Ai.” Kenji’s gaze was on another sticker which I failed to notice.

“Nise,” Kenji translated, poking me in my cheek. “Also, fake. If you could read Japanese, which you can’t,” he shot me a grin. “There’s an explanation right in front of you.” He read it out in Japanese, where I could only understand maybe three words before translating.

“Ai is said to be the last of her kind, and has been with us since we opened,” he read out. “Please treat her with kindness and do not put your hands on the glass.” Kenji frowned. “It’s said that Ai and her family were hunted for their flesh which was rumoured to hold the key to immortality and power. When her siblings were brutally killed and skinned by fishermen, Ai cut her heart into pieces and dropped it into the sea.” He squinted. “Shit. It’s hard to read because half of it has been rubbed off…”

He groaned. “Uh, something about her cutting out her own voice box to prove to the town she wasn’t a threat. She offered to grant four town’s people’s children power in exchange for her life being spared. They tried to kill her that same night, and she fled the town. They built this to commemorate her.”

Straightening up, Kenji pulled a face. “So, in conclusion? Human’s suck.” He heaved out a sigh. “Buuut, we knew that already.”

I couldn’t resist my gaze flicking back to the mermaid. “They built this to remember the girl they supposedly…” I lowered my voice into a murmur. “Hunted and skinned?”

“They killed her family.” He corrected, pointing to another sticker. “She had two brothers and two sisters. Their voices were ripped out.”

In the corner of my eye, Nate and Sara were manically gesturing us over. “Why would they be threats with their voices?”

“You’re kidding.” Kenji arched a brow. “Have you ever heard of a Siren? You know, bloodthirsty fish people who lure fishermen to their death? Why do you think Ursula needed Ariel’s voice?” He knocked on the glass of the tank. “To hypnotise Eric, and like, take the throne, or whatever. I think I fell asleep halfway through the second movie with the other mermaid.”

I chuckled. “You mean her daughter? You’re strangely knowledgeable on The Little Mermaid lore.”

“Yeah, well, having you as a housemate for the last few years has turned me into a Disney freak.”

“Hey! We need a translator!” Nate, while trying to be polite, was doing a hell of a good job at getting our attention.

I gestured for him to shut up, and he immediately stopped dramatically waving his arms. Nate Costa was an introvert inside an extrovert’s body. By that, I mean he looked like he played college football and definitely had the form for it, broad shoulders and built like a brick wall, but preferred to hang out with the resident cat at house parties and had recently gotten us all obsessed with Criminal Minds.

Brandishing thick, reddish curls and pasty skin, my housemate definitely stuck out like a sore thumb. Sara was half Korean on her dad’s side and was probably the most beautiful girl I had ever met, willowy brown hair framing a heart shaped face.

Like Nate, she was quiet around strangers, and a menace when it came to just the four of us. The two of them deserved each other. Two little awkward peas in a pod.

“Kenji!”

Nate was getting impatient.

Rolling my eyes at them, I gestured to the table they had sought out—and after one last look at Ai, the two of us made out way over and quickly took our seats. It was dark outside by the time we had ordered our food. The menu’s weren’t in English, though were expecting that. Thankfully, Kenji helped us pick. I did notice there weren’t many employee’s; only a guy in his early twenties, his identity hidden by a mask. I turned in my chair to marvel at the eerie glow of the half crescent moon illuminating the sea below, when a perky waitress practically dived to our table, and immediately took an interest in the boys.

She was nice enough to us, nodding and bowing, setting four glasses of water down.

But then her gaze flashed to Nate, who was frowning at the lack of signal on his phone, and Kenji peering at the menu. Initially, it was a fairly normal dining experience. I got a soupy like broth and noodles with its own local name. I was halfway through it, practically salivating it was so good, when the waitress appeared again with bright eyes. This time, she grabbed Kenji’s arm and dragged him to his feet. It was playful, though there was a glimmer in her eyes, a certain twist in her lips which told him he didn’t have a choice.

“Boys.” The waitress was grinning wildly. She gestured a clueless looking Nate to get to his feet, and after getting the go-ahead smile from Kenji, he did. Looking thoroughly confused, and slightly scared, my housemate couldn’t have looked more awkward. His gaze kept going to his unfinished meal, but every time he made a move to return to his seat, the girl made a protesting sound. I was nodding and smiling at this girl, giggling when she said something in English, referring to the boy’s as special, but when I was really looking at her expression, her eyes seemed… still. Unblinking. Almost like she was looking right through me. When she laughed, there was no contortion in her facial muscles, and I could have sworn there was something tingeing her face, like a sickly green mould creeping its way across her cheek.

The more I was looking at her, she was beginning to resemble Ai in the fish tank; her body moved in twitching intervals to mimic human movement but there was no real life in her face. I was ready to grab my friends and make a run for it. Especially when she started to repeat the same thing over and over again in both Japanese and English, her grip seemingly tightening on a squirming Kenji’s arm.

“Boys!” She gasped out in a breathy laugh, gesturing over to the counter. “Danshi.”

Sara laughed nervously, shooting me a look. She had already finished her meal, sipping her water.

“Uh, what’s going on?”

Kenji didn’t exactly look like he was enjoying himself, trying to wrench from the girl’s grip, but his slightly strained smile was reassuring. I didn’t trust it though.

His expression, unlike the girl’s, was filled, ignited, with life. Life, which was silently begging us to do something. “They’re just surprised to see us,” he said, when another girl seemingly came out of nowhere, and latched herself to Nate. When the two of them were dragged away, I had no idea what to do.

I jumped from my chair, with Sara following suit, but Kenji was quick to twist around. “They’re just excited to see us!” He shouted. “We’ll be back soon, okay?” From the tone of his voice, I could tell Kenji was lying. He had no idea where the fuck he was being taken and was subtly telling us to maybe call the cops if they were gone for too long.

Nate was quieter. He may act like an idiot sometimes, but the guy was on anxiety medication. We were in a partially deserted town in the middle of nowhere with several slightly unhinged waitresses who were treating him and Kenji like god’s, the guy was bound to be freaking out.

I watched the two of them shoved into the back room behind the counter, and when I was sure we were alone, I slumped back into my seat with a choked out laugh. Sara’s eyes were wide. She kept glancing at her phone frantically, and I shook my head.

“They’re probably…just talking to them, or whatever.”

Sara squeaked. “You think that was just casual friendliness?”

“Sara, they’re just excited.”

“I wouldn’t call that excited,” she took another sip of her drink and fanned herself. “Did it get hot in here?”

“Relax. They’re fine.”

“That was obsession,” Sara was sweating, I noticed. “Hysteria.”

“Well…” I thought back to the vacant look in the waitresses eyes, and my stomach twisted into knots. “Yeah.” I drained my water, suddenly feeling nauseous. Had it gotten hotter? I could have sworn the air-con was still on, but my arms suddenly felt like they were burning.

Settling my housemate with what I hoped was a reassuring smile, I announced I was going to get more water. But when I jumped up, my head sort of… danced. I’m not sure I can put it into words. It didn’t spin. I knew what a spinning head was—the aftermath of a long night and too many strawberry daiquiris. This was different. Instead of spinning off its axis, my brain felt like it was bobbing up and down. I remember somehow staggering my way to the counter, suddenly incredibly thirsty, a relentless burn at the back of my throat.

It was everywhere, an ignition of fire which had started on my arms, moving down to my legs, and creeping across my gut. “Hello?” Forgetting Sara’s existence, I was suddenly all too aware that as well as feeling like I had just been dipped inside molten lava, I needed to drink something. Whether that was water, soda, fucking sewage. I didn’t care. I just needed something to quench this inhuman scratching at the back of my throat.

“Hey!” My voice became a panicked yell, and part of my brain which wasn’t choked with fog and cotton candy realised Sara was silent. It took maybe half a second for my vision to be reduced to blurry pinpricks—and when I squinted, grasping the front counter for an anchor, I glimpsed movement through the back room doors.

A flash of movement, footsteps running, a shadow bleeding into view; a shadow I knew. Kenji. I saw half of his face. His hair was soaking wet, strands plastered over half lidded eyes. It wasn’t until I saw smears of red under his nose, and red tinged water soaking his white shirt, when my brain kicked itself into gear. He was so close. So close to the door, his fingers gripping onto the side, only for a monstrous arm to whip out and slam a hand over his mouth, muffling his cry and yanking him back violently. When the door slammed behind him, I remembered how to walk.

But I… couldn’t. My body felt like it was on fire, and suddenly all I wanted to do was throw myself into the tank with the fake mermaid. I remember my legs giving way. Just like that.

One moment I could feel my legs, and the next I couldn’t.

I was lying on my back, blinking rapidly at something squirming under the flesh of my arms, when a shadow loomed over me. I couldn’t concentrate on her words, on her broken English, as my gaze followed a greenish tinge tearing its way up my arm, and like a virus, it was spreading, filling my veins and expanding further and further until I could feel it choking me, writhing up my throat, my body jolting as I coughed up mouthfuls of water.

It felt… good. At least for the hazy moment I was trapped in a singularity where time didn’t exist and I was mesmerised by the contortions in my chest.

It didn’t feel natural. Nothing felt natural. Not the green tinge entangling my veins and seeping into my bloodstream, or the convulsions in my throat every time my body forced fluid from every orifice, leaving me to choke on my own liquidised insides.

The girl, however, told me with simple touches, her dancing fingertips across ignited bones, that everything was going to be okay. The water which gushed from my mouth, nose and ears—it soothed my skin which was on fire. It was salt water, stinging my flesh at first, but then caressing me like I was already enveloped in the ocean. “Child.” The shadow bled into a real person, and blinking through fog, I could have sworn I recognised the hair which ticked my face when she bent down, her cool hands wrapping around my body, and claw-like fingernails pinching my skin.

She spoke in Japanese first, followed by English. Her hold on me was oddly gentle, and I was grateful for her cradling my body to her chest. When a thicker texture than water slithered from my mouth, and I glimpsed thick rivulets of red dripping down my chin, I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed for it to stop. But it didn’t stop.

It kept going, purging me of every liquid in my body. The woman’s voice was a melody singing inside my head lulling me to slumber, as she moved in slow, solemn strides. Like I was attending my own funeral. Something snapped inside my mind like a switch being pulled, and the hazy fog drowning me began to subside.

I felt how light I was in her embrace, every mouthful of water spilling from my lips felt like razor blades cutting me into pieces. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and when I did, when I sucked in precious gasps for air, my lungs rejected it, stars speckling my vision. It was like drowning, I thought dizzily as the woman rocked me from side to side. I was drowning on land. I was drowning with air in my lungs, and no matter how hard I tried to force my body to realise that, it kept panicking.

Sister.

I recognised the word for sister floating through my brain.

Eien ni ikitaidesu ka?

Her voice rattled in my ears, followed by the translation – and I allowed the sound of crashing waves to take me away.

“Would you like to live forever?”

…

I woke with a static radio inside my head and the sudden sinking feeling that I couldn’t feel my legs. I was in a tub overflowing with water, my numb body enveloped inside its depths. It felt like a prison, almost. I felt it lapping under my chin as I sunk deeper, my head sliding down cold porcelain. The burning had stopped. The pain which encompassed me, and the thirst igniting my throat.

All gone.

But with it, so had every other feeling. I could see ice bobbing in front of me, and yet failed to feel the sensation of the cold. It was shock, I thought. Surely. I waited for familiar sensations to hit me and propel me into fight or flight, but I was numb.

I couldn’t feel anything. For a moment, my brain was sticky with fog, before my vision cleared and I drunk in my surroundings; a large bathroom with marble walls which were supposed to be pristine white, and yet were splattered and smeared old red. I could see it on every surface, on the floor, dripping from the walls, and staining the tub I was in. When I tried to force myself into a sitting position, I couldn't move.

My right arm was cuffed to the tub, and in front of me, I couldn't even see below my torso. The water was too murky, a soup of red dilated around where my legs were supposed to be. Tugging my arm, panic creeping its way up my throat, I glimpsed something which wasn't right. It didn't look right-- but for the moment my mind couldn't register it. The skin on my arm didn't look like skin anymore. Instead, resembling marble, and like a virus it was growing, expanding across my elbow and creeping its way towards my shoulder.

A scream tugged in my throat, and I forced my body to move-- to do something. But it was less like a body, and more like a mass severed from me. My gaze flicked to plastic curtains stained that same deep shade of red-- before a shadow appeared.

The curtain was pushed back, and I was greeted to a figure wearing a plastic apron, a mask hiding their identity. They knelt in front of the tub and dipped their finger in the water before pulling it out. I drowned in silence for what felt like forever while the figure turned and sorted through metallic instruments, before a sound shattered my ears. Splashing. And when I strained my ears and struggled to push through the fog… choking, spluttering, and what sounded like pleading. I knew that voice.

I knew the cries collapsing into gurgling, and if I concentrated, I could sense his flailing body. Nate. When I twisted my head, I see him across the room, strained against crimson stained marble, his head being forced into the freezing depths of another overflowing tub while the rest of him struggled, battering arms attempting to shove away his attacker. But failing.

They were drowning him. Killing him.

The words entered my mind and I expected my body to react, but there was nothing, just the jolt of my arm still attached to the cuff restraining me.

I felt my lips curve into his name, but my voice splintered in my throat, shattering into nothing. When the sputtering sounds stopped, and my friend’s body went limp, I had no time to register what was happening. Nate was picked up and carried away, a sopping wet tangle of limbs dangling from the woman’s arms, and the figure kneeling in front of me had finally picked an instrument. It resembled a scalpel with sharper teeth, and when he held it to the light, cocking their head, I wondered if drowning myself would be appropriate at that moment. If sinking deeper under the water would allow me to escape whatever this person—this monster—was going to do to me.

I watched in feverish anticipation as they removed their mask to reveal a smile with too sharp teeth. It was a guy, not much older than me. Western, judging by his features. I could only guess he too used to be a tourist. But I couldn’t possibly call him a guy, or even human. Now I was fully drinking him in, his eyes were a milky white and resembled the waitresses from earlier. There was an emptiness in his expression, a vacancy in his eyes.

And when my gaze allowed itself to wander, I was seeing more of him; what he had been turned into, or at least almost been turned into. Under the sputtering bulb above, I could just about make out that same green tinge I’d seen onmy arms. This time it had eaten its way through half of his face, and I didn’t even realise until his grin widened, his mouth more of a skeletal sneer. When he reached forward and shoved my head under the water, I glimpsed what was left of his arm, shrivelled up flesh entwined with something resembling scales.

“Breathe.”

His voice was a low murmur above the surface, and when I struggled, or tried to struggle, he pushed me deeper, water gushing into my mouth. I expected my body to panic, to flail, but it was paralysed without legs. I was forced under the surface three times, and it was only the fourth time, when the guy was getting increasingly more frustrated, when it hit me what he was saying. “Breathe.”

His almost robotic tone hummed in my mind, and I did. Instead of fighting against the water seeping into me like usual, I sucked in a breath and breathed out. And once I did that, noticing my body and brain had failed to react like they were supposed to—I was dragged back to the surface, and his skeletal smile was three inches from mine. He held up the scalpel, and something snapped inside me. No. I mouthed the word when I realised what he was going to do. But I didn’t have a voice. There was just strange hissing around every time I spoke, like my voice had been severed from me. Ignoring my silent protests, the guy forced me onto my side, and I felt it automatically, a heavy mass underneath me which didn’t feel like legs. I kept wondering if they were gone.

That’s what it felt like. These maniacs has cut off my legs and replaced them with… with what? I didn’t feel the blade slicing into my flesh at first. I was numb. I couldn’t feel anything. But then he was putting far too much pressure on it, dragging the scalpel deeper and deeper until I could feel the teeth cutting through muscle and bone. He made four single strokes before forcing me onto my back once more.

Without a word, and putting his mask back on, the guy straightened up and stepped back, tugging the curtains shut. It was only when he had left me bleeding out into icy cold water, I started to glimpse what was in front of me. When I was a little girl, I had sat in my bathtub and stared real hard at my legs, wishing and wishing and wishing they would somehow morph into my very own mermaid tail.

But those types of mermaid's didn't exist. The ones we want to be, mermaids with magical powers and fish friends. Every child's dream. As my own blood diffused the water around me, my eyes found the horrifying mass of flesh which had grown from my torso, fusing my legs together.

It wasn't finished. I could still see its progress, the greenish flesh-eating thing which had eaten away at that boy's face was ravaging through my own body, transforming skin and bone into something else entirely. I don't remember screaming because I no longer had a voice. But when I continued to scream, thrashing against cool marble, I felt it, something went and warm with the texture of soup, or maybe barf, dripping from my mouth every time I attempted to use my voice putting pressure on my vocal chords, blood filled my mouth in fleshy lumps which I had to spit into the water or swallow down. It was when my vision was blurring with stars, and another shadow had come to lift me from the tub, when I realised I had choked up what I was pretty sure was my voice—or at least the shredded organ which allowed me to speak. Time passed.

I wasn’t sure how much. I vaguely remember being carried down a long hallway which felt like it stretched across the universe. I do remember the woman held me gently, almost like a mother holding her child.

Initially, when I was still human, or at least when I could still breathe without water, I was left inside a tiny room for days, like they were waiting for my body to reject air—to reject land. Every so often, they would come in and pour a bucket of ice cold water over me so I could breathe.

I stopped reacting when my body started to climatise. Consciousness was cruel. I delved into the dark and prayed to stay there. But once the thing had finished with my legs, or at least what was left of them, it wound its way through my body, purging me from the inside. There was something I couldn’t ignore. I heard it for the first time in the tub, but now it was stronger. Like a physical thing trying to crack my skull open. Screams. Though they didn’t sound like they were coming from anywhere near me, or rooms nearby. They sounded like they were directly inside my head.

“Where…. am I?”

“I can’t breathe. My chest feels like it’s…burning….I’m hungry. I’m so… so fucking… hungry.”

“Why can’t I move? I can’t…. I can’t… move!”

I don’t remember being dropped into a large tank—only waking up and realising I was underwater. It’s not exactly the reaction you might think. I still felt human, even when half of me wasn’t.

So, the human part of me freaked out, once I was aware of being enveloped in icy depths and my hair spiralling around me in a vicious halo, I panicked and tried to project my body to the surface.

But I couldn’t swim. I never learned how to swim properly so my body just flailed pathetically, and I was forced to come to terms with what was part of me, the disgusting writhing thing which had grown from my torso. It wasn’t a tail. It was too big to be a tail. I couldn’t even move the damn thing. When I slammed my hands into the glass of the tank, a noise splintered its way into my skull. It started like static, like a radio being tuned in, before a voice exploded into my brain.

“Don’t freak out.” Kenji. I’d known him for almost three years, and no matter how hard he was trying to sound reassuring, he himself was definitely freaking out. His voice was barely comprehensible, more of a garbled confusing string of static I had to replay in my mind until I could understand it. It came again, this time slamming into me in wave of white noise. “She wants to talk. We’re… we’re going to let her talk. She said if we don’t listen to her she will consider us unfriendly.”

Talk?

Twisting around in blanketed depths, I could barely see anything. The water around me was filthy.

“Cass!”

Kenji’s voice was an impatient hiss scratching against my skull. “Will you listen to her?”

I jumped when a knock sounded, and there he was on the other side of the glass.

It was the white in his eyes I saw first; a milky glow which was spreading around his iris almost resembling a crescent moon. Kenji was pale, soaking wet, and half of his face had been taken over by the same thing which had stolen my legs.

I could see it eating away at his flesh, converting skin to scale, or half skin and half scale. Looking at him, the guy didn't even look like my friend. More of a mimic.

I could almost resemble him to a... fish. The hollowness in his face, gaunt cheeks, and much sharper teeth when he opened his mouth to speak, before shaking his head, his lip curling. His body was still his at least. Though that thought crumbled in my mind when I realised he was struggling to stand. And when I looked closer, his bare feet on marble flooring were webbed, each toe beginning to fuse together. Kenji had legs. They were awkward and stumbling, and he was clearly having a hard time staying upright, but he had them. I just wasn't sure how long he would have them for.

"She said we're... beautiful," Kenji whispered into my head, each word sending sharp rivulets of red dripping from his nose. "We're the most beautiful beings she has ever seen, and she wants us to stay with her," He paused. "She lost her siblings, and she's been..." He screwed up his face, and for a moment it looked like he was struggling to breathe. His gaze was suddenly on the tank, on the water imprisoning me. I knew exactly how he felt.. His lungs were burning. "Lonely." Kenji finished. "She's been so lonely, and humans amuse her. They excite her.”

Ai, I thought.

He was talking about the mermaid on display.

Kenji continued, and I could tell from the look on his face he was repeating Ai's words. “She is the last of her kind. And after hiding for so many years, she has decided to find her family again by cutting her own heart into pieces, and… feeding it to customers.” Kenji’s swallowed. “And we… we’re the only ones who… who survived the process. The rest of them... drowned, or rejected the change. But Ai has never hurt the ones she tries to change. Instead, they... they stay with her, and those pieces of them are granted eternal life with her. As she searches for her lost… siblings!” This time, what had been his attempt at a calm murmur collapsed into a strangled cry when something grabbed him. When Kenji disappeared from behind the glass suddenly, I panicked. His voice, though, continued, echoing in my skull.

He sounded like he was moving, or more likely being dragged. "She says... we have to embrace it. If we don't, we will have no choice but to become part of her forever and offer her our... humanity. Those who stay at her side sacrifice half of themselves while she continues to… to… uh--- shit!”

A loud splash sounded from the surface, and I found myself with a face-full of bubbles as water sloshed around me.

“Silly boy.”

He gasped out in my head. But I heard her voice too. It was perfectly clear, almost like their voices were intertwined.

“You… amuse me,” she chuckled, speaking in both Japanese and English. “Two full days and your lungs still crave air.”

Her voice was melodic, a hypnotising murmur which filled my brain like cotton candy. “You…. amuse…. me.” Kenji’s mental cry came out in sharp bursts of static. “Two… full d—days… and you still… crave… air.” When I tipped my head back, I glimpsed a slender wrist delve into the water and grasp hold of him, yanking him out. Kenji didn’t speak after that.

I heard an attempt, though whatever connection had entangled our thoughts was severed once Ai had yanked him to his feet and pulled him away. I was slamming my hands into the glass, as if I could break it if I kept throwing myself against it, when something moved behind me. I saw it, a shadow looming.

Twisting around, I found myself face to face with what was left of a human skull. It was attached to something which had withered away, eaten at its body. But once I was seeing it, and I was looking around, glimpsing shadows which bled into half eaten corpses. I could still see where that thing, the thing which had been forced into my blood, had attempted to convert human tissue into scales, and ultimately failed, skinning them of their flesh.

Mutilated legs and half grown tails.

I was inside her experimentation tank—where humans she turned either submitted to her or were eaten alive.

Kenji falling in must have caused a rift in the water, dislodging every failure from hidden depths. Every human whose legs refused to morph, to transform and metamorphosise into a monster, surrounded me, and I just had to hope and pray that the hand wrapped around my wrist, claw-like fingernails slicing into my flesh—was human. Even in the pitch dark water, however, I could still see the glint of red hair, the shimmer of pasty skin which had always looked moonlit in contrast to hair. Now though, it was sickly and pallid.

Nate was breathing underwater, there was doubt in my mind that he had surpassed that stage. His body, however, was still human. His eyes were still his, if only for the slightest tinge of white spotting his pupil. If I looked close enough, I could glimpse strips of his flesh skinned by the water itself, as if made of tiny, perforating blades. I had seen was a success, or at least the beginning of a success was in Kenji. Now that I was face to face with Nate, I understood was a rejection was.

Nate's eyes were wide, almost cartoon-like, his mouth open in a silent cry, as his legs, which had failed to fuse into a tail, were slowly ripped apart, chunks of flesh floating around him.

The guy's grip tightened on me, bubbles erupting around him. His mouth opened, and I caught what had been the start of sharpening incisors, before stopping abruptly.

When his mental cry slid its way into my mind, his deafening, pained screams rattling my skull as I watched the skin on his face transform into a fleshy scale-like substance, only one thought brewed in my mind. And it was enough to elicit my own screech joining the cacophony inside my head growing louder and louder, each of us encompassing each other.

Fuck my childhood wish.