When the human turned around, he no longer looked human. His mouth had grown, a grin split open his face from ear to ear, as rows of sharp teeth taunted him. His eyes darker the stormy water, eyes hungry and cold. Dark blue scales dotted along his cheeks and forehead. His long hair had come undone, a crown above his head. What was a siren doing here in the weakest sea? They were rare enough to be considered a myth among men.

Kurobi tried to turn away, but his body refused to listen, already caught in the sirens trap. Every fishmen and mere grew up with warnings about the sirens, and now he was going to live them out…for as long as the siren let him live, that is. He watched as the siren hands gripped his arms, its sharp talons digging into his flesh, drawing blood. He looked over at the hand that held him before looking back in time to watch the siren dart closer. Its sharp teeth ripped out his gills.