Yeah, so, this one is kind of weird and dark and short for me, but it was fun. I was reading a couple of stories with Sirens in them recently and I couldn't decide if they were the villain or not. So, this was just a little musing, in a strange tense of course, because I just love using odd tenses, and I'm not even sure what it's about anymore, so you can decide instead. X)

Much thanks to Clar the Pirate for inspiration and fixes!

The Siren

Chilled hissin' bullets assault you on deck.

The teary bite of saltwater, swellin' shut your eyes.

Howlin' wind and bucklin' boards, rushin' feet and desperate shouts. Unanswered prayers, indistinguishable from savage curses. Both shouted to the very heights of the gapin' abyss that leaks down the horizon and stirs the savage sea to frenzy.

Another wave tries to rip you off and you just gotta hold on for dear sweet sweet life, to the rail, to a rope, to that bastard what still owes you money. Just gotta keep holdin' on again and again 'cause it only gets harder, but the alternative's worse. That unfeelin' Mistress, unforgivably worse.

There's stuff to secure and riggin' to rig, orders what need followin', 'cause if it just so happens you survive tonight there's hell to pay tomorrow. The wind screams bloody murder in your ears, and your throat screams it right back 'til you don't hear anythin' but the blood poundin' through your ears and your mind screechin' base instinct and survival. There's been storms before. Just get through this one to see the next.

Your muscles shake like they're gonna give you up any minute now, but you've got more in you than you've ever had before. There's no questions, no thought, no time. Just every glaringly beautiful, horrible moment that you are still alive, and oh, are you alive. Never are you more alive than when you might not be in the next moment. It's intoxicatin', addictin', mind warpingly potent. Every rain drop that sears your face, every stumble and twist and bruise is a treasure 'cause it might be your last. Poetry that lives and breathes and cracks open the sky. The terrifyin' song that every sailor knows by heart, that he can't live without, that makes it worth the loneliness and the emptiness and the endless haziness of the time in between.

The next wave knocks you down and you reach for the rail. You don't even realize the rail is gone 'til with a breath stealin' 'thwap' you hit a wall of ice. A wall that stands only long enough to knock you silly, then gives you up like a flimsy little lie. Then you're suckin' acid and you can't even tell if it burns or freezes, all you know is your lungs ain't happy 'bout it. An' if your lungs ain't happy then they send a message to everywhere else sayin' "Hey, this sod's got it all wrong, we're takin' over now!". An' you're burnin' icy cold an' you don't even know what your arms are doin' any more. The waves just toss you 'round like it's a grand game an' you're the ball. There is no up, no down, just whiplash an' power all around you. Power like you've never felt. Power that man only dreams of. Power that could end your world, end the whole world, an' the moon an' the sun an' a hundred more suns 'cause there is no end, no mercy, just twistin' spinnin' head over heels force!

Air! Your lungs demand it and there it is, just a moment, just a fleetin' screamin' moment.

"Man overboard!" rings from above like some cruel joke. Then it's gone. Back to the rushin' waves and water and cold that grip your senses like an endless pulse of the world. The rushin' blood of the very earth, like it's just as terrified as you. Yes, terror, 'cause it's all over now, no questions 'bout it, just being tossed about like a puppet 'cause all your strength is gone. Your muscles burn and your lungs are playin' bo'sun and screamin' and they're tryin' to whip those lazy limbs all back into action, but it's strikin' at a dead crew that can't hear nothin'. Just your mind immobilized by black and fear and agony.

The last caress by the Mistress Sea, suddenly can't match real flesh and love. It's not your life that flashes through your eyes, it's the life you might've had. That future bein' ripped from you with every toss and turn. It's that loss that hurts the worst. Hurts more than any physical pain can ever try. The world you haven't seen. Lost. The friends you'll never make. Lost. The family. Lost. The music. Lost. The laughter, the games, the meals, the dreams, the new shoes and stubbed toes, the spring rain and lost love and stupid jokes and lazy days and tears and fears and joy! Lost. Lost. Lost. Lost. Gone! Each day. Each hour. Each second, each moment, each wish. Clear as day and ripped brutally from your mind, from your heart, from your life, and it hurts so bad you'd cry if you could only do anything at all. Powerless and terrified and beaten. Lost.

The song starts up, so slow you don't even realize you've been hearin' it for a while now. It's gentle and it's strong and it tells you it's gonna be alright. It's undeniable and endless and beautiful. It's the sea, it's the storm, it's all the reasons you wound up here, and it's nothin' like that at all. That song, it's all you can listen to. It's all you can think about. It takes away the pain and the fear and the future, because all there is is this eternity of song.