Archive of Our Own ^beta

You sink further into the murky darkness, struggling towards the ocean’s surface. You’re drowning, hacking and coughing and spluttering but not breathing, never breathing. You can’t breathe here, you can’t. No matter how much your lungs burn.

Your legs start to grow numb, but you keep kicking. You know you won’t reach the surface but you still try. You have to try. You can’t stay here. If you do, you’ll never leave. You have to leave. You’ll never leave.

A giggle floats up from the cavern below, echoing against the cold stone. You can’t look down. You refuse to look down. You keep struggling, but you’re growing weaker by the second.

Another giggle, closer now. You’re running out of time. You desperately kick and claw in the depths, trying to hold on to any semblance of hope-

“What are you so afraid of? It’s just me, silly!”

You freeze.

“There’s no danger here! Now, won’t you come h̴̨̝̫͌̿ó̶̧̟͌͐͊ṃ̴̡͕̪͔̤̑́́͗̉ę̶̧̧͎͙̩͆̒̂̍͘͠?”

No longer fighting the current, you sink like a stone. You can’t tell if you’re blacking out or not in the darkness.

“I miss you! Come on!”

Against your better judgement, you glance down to see a soft pink glow. It’s too bright to see anything yet, seeing as your eyes have long since adjusted for the darkness, but the sight fills you with a primordial terror. You want to struggle, move, scream, anything but you can’t, you can’t-

She swims up to you, fuchsia tail stirring up a torrent bubbles. You see her slit eyes and gold scleras, her impossibly sharp teeth in their twisted grin, her shredded clothes, all from the light of her lure.

“Joi̷̲̒̇̋͐n̸̛͎̖̾̎͆̓͘ m̶̧̨͇̬̥̩̺̲͈̜̲͎͐̈́͋̀͗͂̋͘͜ͅě̵̞̞̥̦̰̬̄.”

You breathe, gills opening on the sides of your neck, face twisted in horror, why why WHY-

You wake up.

—

Brush your teeth. Comb your hair. Go through the motions, like you’ve done for the last year. There’s no nuance to it. Nothing special. You’re used to being up before dawn at this point, anyway.

You set your day clothes out on your bed, not caring what your outfit actually looks like. It doesn’t matter. It hasn’t mattered in a long time. You grab a towel and head to the shower.

The warm water is soothing in the cold of the early morning. The fact that it’s (probably?) winter isn’t helping the chill. You allow your self this one moment of respite, just for now. Just… just this once. You stand there, without thinking, without remembering-

That’s when the burning starts.

It’s white-hot agony in your legs, and you look down to see scales on your arms. Your legs grow the same accursed things as they start to meld together-

You leap out of the shower, tearing your legs apart with a horrifying ripping of flesh. You nearly trip in your scramble for your towel, drying yourself off as fast as possible. You set it on the floor afterwards to catch the blood, staining it a sickening magenta as violet mixes with red. You find the first aid kit under the sink, cleaning the wounds with shaking hands. You can barely look at them, still covered in scales as they are.

You manage to wrap your legs with gauze. You don’t know much about medical treatment, but you know that much at least. The blood slows as it clots, eventually stopping. Okay. You’re… you’re okay.

Except you’re not okay, not in the slightest, because there are fucking scales on your arms. You stare at them, at your hands, at the beginning of-

You remember her, as she was when you first knew her. Carefree. Happy.

You remember her after that day, after she witnessed it. Saw her disappear into the water, disappear from her life forever. You remember her haunted expression as she told you what happened to her sister.

You remember the year that followed. Her attempts to keep a smile, despite the clear horror of that day. Her increasing paranoia and isolation.

You remember her disappearing beneath the icy waves, leaving you with only her shattered glasses to remember her by.

You remember

She’s gone.

Your arms are littered with small wounds. You hands are covered in violent violet ichor. There’s a pile of red-stained scales on the floor.

You bandage your wounds, clean up the mess, and go make breakfast.

—

Your father isn’t home. Business trip, as per usual. He’s never really been around much, but it’s a lot lonelier without your brother. As shitty as he was, at least he was here - more than you could say about your shithead of a dad. He fed you, kept you out of trouble, got you to school. You didn’t like him, he didn’t like you, but it was better than nothing.

You remember that day, when he disappeared. Her sister was the only one to see.

He’d been more and more distant, more cold, since his boyfriend’s disappearance. He tried to find a rebound a million and one times, to no avail. Whenever you asked him what happened, he just gave you a haunted look. You think you know what happened now.

Her sister told her what happened to him. Disappeared under the waves. You heard it secondhand through her. It’s the only reason you believed her when she told you the same about her sister a year later.

You wish you’d never found out what happened to him.

You stare blankly at your cornflakes. They’re dry. You didn’t bother with milk. You manage a couple bites before tossing the paper bowl in the garbage with the rest.

You wind your scarf tightly around your neck before you head to the bus stop.

—

The ride to school is familiar, littered with bumps and patches of the more worn down roads. You lay your head against the cold glass watching the world go by. Nobody even tries to sit next to you. Not like you’d want them to, anyway.

There have been rumors, of course. Suspicious that your closest friends and family all went missing, year after year, within a week of the previous disappearance’s anniversary. Most of the town barely remembers your brother’s boyfriend disappearing before him.

‘He did it,’ some say, ‘or his father.’ ‘Someone’s after them,’ say others. ‘Maybe he’s covering it up.’ ‘Maybe he’s being blackmailed.’ Or, the most frequent; ‘They must be cursed.’

You wish they were wrong, so desperately you wish they were wrong. But you know they aren’t. You’ve seen it, after all.

Nobody believed you when she disappeared. You’ve barely spoken to any of them for months, now. Only Kar even considered believing you, since it was his brother that disappeared before yours. He was the first one you told. He didn’t understand.

You hope he never will.

It’s been a year since she disappeared.

You don’t want to go.

—

You get to school. You walk to class. You quite literally bump into Kar and Kan in the hall, but you just keep walking. Kar calls after you, concerned, but you ignore him. You always do. You haven’t spoken since her disappearance.

You know what happens if someone is too close. You hope he never does.

Your first period class is precalc, which is boring but simple enough. The teacher gives you busywork today, as per usual, without actually teaching anything. You scrawl formulas mindlessly, moving without thought. You don’t think about it. You don’t. You’re fine.

History’s next. It’s a blur. You take notes, or at least you think you do. You sort of liked history, once. You don’t like much of anything now.

Science. Latin elective. They blur together with the rest. You don’t know how long it’s been by the time you get to lunch. You feel heavy, tired. So tired. Faces and classes and minutes blur together into a drab gray mush, surrounding you like concrete walls. You’re a husk, going through the motions. You’ve long since given up on trying to discern the season you’re in, let alone the time of day. All you know is that it’s cold, so cold. Cold enough to keep your scarf on indoors.

Chorus elective. That’s your current class. You know because you’re standing, not sitting. The singing itself is autopilot, having memorized the setlist long ago. You close your eyes.

You used to enjoy this, once. Singing, you mean. You took pride in your concerts, even if nobody went to them. Music was one of the few things your brother shared with you, even if he only learned guitar to impress his potential partners. You remember how you used music as an outlet, pouring all your hope and emotion into your voice. You remember how, when you sang, you were… not happy, but at least proud. You wish you could feel that again.

Slowly, everything falls away, until it’s only you and your song. Lakeside Lullaby, you think it was. A song about a woman and her partner dancing by the sea, away from the world. The irony isn’t lost on you.

It takes you a few moments to realize to realize the silence isn’t just from your focus. You can’t hear a single sound from the rest of the choir. Not a peep.

You open your eyes.

Forty pairs stare back at you.

They’re all locked onto you, entranced, paralyzed. You cry out for them to stop looking, and they all turn away, otherwise unmoving. You stagger back, staring with mounting horror, blood turning to ice. This is your fault, isn’t it? Siren’s song.

You do the only thing you can think to do.

You run out of the room, through the hall, feet pounding against the tiled floor. You make a sharp turn to the school’s door, bumping straight into-

“OW- Eridan, you prick, what the fuck? Wait, where are you - ERIDAN!” Kar calls after you, but you don’t stop. You can’t stop. You hear the squeak of his sneakers on polished tile as he gives chase, no no nO NO-

You run faster, faster, you can’t let him see you like this. Nobody can see you like this. You can’t damn them to the same fate.

You keep running, scarf whipping wildly in the freezing wind.

—

Your legs are numb, static in your veins as you sprint down the familiar roads of your town. Your footsteps pound on the concrete like a heartbeat. Buildings pass you by, multicolored signs mixing with the grey clouds above into a nonsensical blur. The icy wind whips relentlessly at your face, biting at your nose and loosening your scarf.

You don’t stop running.

You can scarcely hear Kar’s cries over the wind, over the heartbeat in your ears, but you know he’s still there. You run faster. Keep running. Keep going. It feels familiar.

It’s not until your feet hit soft sand that you realize why.

You remember following her down, down, down, past the homes and storefronts and people going about their days as she ran to the sea. She wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

You remember her screams. Her agony. The horror in her eyes as she melted and melded into something new, bones cracking and reforming, pupils turning to slits. Her cries for you to run-

You stumble across the sand, boots slipping on the unstable surface, but never faltering from your sprint. You desperately try to rip back control of your body, to tear your gaze away from the freezing waters, but you can’t. You’re trapped, a prisoner in your own body. Tears stream down your face. They taste like seawater.

You hear a cry of “ERIDAN!” behind you your blood as cold as the waters ahead as you realize he’s still following you, why why WHY-

You slip on the soaked sand, toppling face-first into the water, and scream.

All at once, it begins - scales tearing through your skin, your arms, your face. You scramble for purchase on the sandy ground, trying to push yourself out, but instead end up pushing yourself further into the water. You don’t hear so much as feel the horrifying rip as spines tear through the back of your shirt, running down the ridge of your back. You can’t hear much of anything over the pain, static in your ears as you feel them elongate into spiked fins, bending and crackling like a bad connection.

The burning returns, violent and stinging from the sand and cloth caught in the mess. Scales ripple over your legs as your bones begin to crack and meld into one form, feet becoming fins, muscles snapping and regrowing in the shape of a massive piscine tail. Your vision darkens as you watch your hands become webbed, nails turning to claws, but you don’t black out. You can feel your teeth elongating, sharpening into fangs, your vision shifting as your eyes turn to something better suited for murky water. You shake your glasses from your face, falling to the sand behind you, right in front of-

“Kả̶̟͖̅̕ŗ̷̲̘̬͖̒̇͆̑͜?”

Your voice is garbled, hoarse from screaming, but it doesn’t matter. He’s fallen to his knees, staring at you in abject horror, sand stained reddish violet around the both of you. He reaches for you, slowly, tentatively and you hiss, gills ripping themselves open and you can’t breathe-

You rip your scarf away from your neck, shredding the fibers with your talons. You manage to cry out a rough warning for Kar to “R̴͉͖̭̩̳͍͓͍͒̊̉͛̌͑͗͊͑̉͜͝͠U̴̢̮͕̲̬͎̗̙͕̼͍͒̊̆́̍͂͆̈́̌̍̕͝͝N̷̛̠̠̘̮̬͕̋̌̅̔͆̍́̀̅̈̉̆̎̽͘ͅ” before you’re forced to plunge your head into the salty seawater, air filling your lungs as instinct takes over. Water flows through your gills, washing away the pain, the blood, as you dive deeper into the sea. Some small part of you wants to swim back to the surface, but when you think about it, you can’t fathom why. Your thoughts are murky like the waters below.

Why would you ever swim to the surface? Your home is far below, with Fef and Meenah and Cro and Kankri and all the rest before. It’s a shame that Kar doesn’t know the way home, though.

You guess you’ll have to guide him yourself.

—

Nobody believes you. Not a single soul.

Your town’s been quiet, since he disappeared. You, despite your typical loud and brash disposition, are no exception. You tried to tell people, of course - telling Kanaya and Sollux and your dad, anyone who would listen. They wouldn’t believe you. You knew they wouldn’t but some stubborn part of you had still hoped they might.

Really, though, why would they believe you? You certainly didn’t believe him when he told you what happened to her. To her sister, his brother, even your brother. Why would you have? It made no sense.

You wish you’d been right. You wish you didn’t know what happened to them. The knowledge is a curse, one only you can bear.

Your face is damp with tears, salty as the waves they disappeared beneath. You’re still clutching only what you have left of him, torn scarf and scratched up glasses all you have left of someone who was once your friend. You wish you had more from him, from all of them, but you don’t.

You think that, more than anything else, you regret leaving him alone after her disappearance. Yes, he pushed you away after you didn’t believe him, but you shouldn’t have let him. Maybe then he wouldn’t have suffered in silence for so long.

You’re out of tears to cry, by now. You find yourself laying down on your bed, still holding what remains of him. You’re just… tired. So, so tired.

You drift to sleep slowly, pulled out into the sea by the moon like the evening tide.

—

You’re drowning.

You’re drowning, but you can’t breathe, won’t breathe, because you know once you do there’s no going back. You struggle against the current as it drags you further from the surface.

He’s not coming back. He can’t. You can’t.

You have to try.

“There you are. We’ve been looking for you, y'know?”

Your blood turns to ice. You kick harder, struggling more and more against the current to no avail. Please, you think. I can’t. Please.

The tides ignore your pleas, uncaring. Violet scales flash in your peripheral. You sink like a stone.

Black hair. Golden eyes. Striped spines ripping through the back of his near-shredded shirt.

“C’mon. Don’t you want to go h̴̟̱͖̱̺̫͇͘ǫ̴̨̢̩̙͙̭̖͙̺̹̦̯̻̲̱̅͌̿́͠ͅḿ̵̧̢̧̨̼͉͓͉͙̙̫̘̰̟̱̥͒͠ë̷̡̛̺̹̖̻͍͚̺͙́͌̑̓̆̔̿͋́̈́̏́̚͝ͅ?̵̟͉̿”