brigits_flame entry, week 4 - "chameleon"
Yes, finally, after two days of extreme-writing, it's done.
Notes before you guys read:
- Basically, this is an elaboration of a short story I wrote about a month ago. I discovered it again while surfing through older entries in this journal and found - talk about a piece of luck! - that it quite fit this week's theme, only I really wanted to expand on it quite a bit. The original short story - the beginning to this - is 1000 words exactly, and this is about 5000 (my longest piece for brigits_flame yet, but it reads really quickly) so you get an idea of how long I worked at this. Take that into account when you tear me apart ;)
- Music that kept me writing: Imogen Heap's "Speak for Yourself" (HAIL) especially "Loose Ends"
- References to my favourite actor are purely coincidental done entirely on purpose by my obnoxious brain.
- Lastly: Dedicated to my "upcoming" nephew, who will be born in about two weeks and whose name will be Colin-Henk.
There was a trickle of clear water, running down the valley of a woman's naked breastbone, travelling further and further down, until it suddenly spread across the furrowed surface of scales.
The point where the girl's hips joined into the tail hardly rose up from the water from where she was sitting, singular, sporadic scales climbing up her navel like tadpoles climbing a rockface; yet he found he could barely look at anything else. He tried to keep his eyes focused on the water trickling down, only the water, take in all the details of the torrent pouring down and pay no attention to the surface it crossed. But his thoughts were squirming and intangible as snails during intercourse. (Don't even go there.) He didn't trust himself to speak out loud, for fear of blurting out something incredibly stupid or embarassingly honest, or both.
She was enjoying this. Enjoyed it far too much for his liking. And leaned a bit further out of the basin, further than he thought personal space allowed, just to prove she could.
A splash of water on his nose knocked him as awake as he was going to get. "Hey, great discoverer! I'm over here, you twit." She was sitting in the tight round porcelain bathtub with her hands crossed underneath her chin, regarding him with the indulgent smile of someone who's figured you out down to the bone. Then she laughed, a bright, lilting sound thrown back by the bathroom tiles three times. "You know, I read somewhere you call pregnant goldfish 'twits'." There was a rogue twinkle in the light green marbles passing for her eyes. "You look neither pregnant nor especially fishy to me."
"Um." There was a thought, an impossibly stupid, obvious one, he decided to glance at it: Why the hell did he not bolt from the room and check straight back out. But there was the rather probable explanation that he was dreaming, and these sort of dreams usually planted your feet straight in the ground. So he just remained kneeling by the edge, eyes fixed on the foam caused by the bubble bath. Where it was already gone, he could see her tail - as though there was an option not to see it. From what he could grasp, logically it was no longer than a pair of human legs might be (remarkably attractive human legs, mind, but let's stay reasonable.) yet somehow, it managed to be everywhere, curved underneath her body, covering the entire base of the tub, and occasionally splashing water hither and thither with the speedy grace of a whipcrack. Bits of it occasionally rose from the water and dove back down again, like a headless seasnake guarding its territory.
If there was anything dominating the room more than that tail did, it was her voice, and her laughter. Or his unease. He wanted to keep a safe distance from her, wary of that thing she kept moving around, yet moving away was not on his agenda as far as his brain was concerned.
Oh why in God's name did I pick this hotel... There were other ways to ask this question: This room, this night, this universe. But she didn't seem to concern herself with questions like that, instead she turned around twisted and yanked at the fittings in the wall as she ran herself more water, with all the abandon and unconcern of a child let loose at a control panel.
"I love these thingies," she crooned enthusiastically, though he wasn't sure if she was even talking to him in particular. The movements of her hands were determined and graceful, in spite of the translucent skin netting her fingers together. "They constantly add new majiggers to it like you wouldn't believe."
Oh, I would, he thought to himself. "Do you come here often?" he asked out loud, then realized what an amazingly stupid thing that was to ask after five minutes of staring like a moron at a mermaid you found in the bathtub of your hotel suite bathroom.
He let that last pssage run through his head again, deciding the question was justified.
To pull matters completely into the absurd, her hair was cut short, and wrapped into a towel.
"Oh, occasionally," she said, conversationally, as though they were sitting in a bar. She didn't look up from her intense work with the taps and dials. "To get away from the stress in the sewers."
"Sewers." He sent that word up into his brain like a form to be filled out.
"Yes, you wouldn't believe how annoying it is to be dodging the alligators all the time."
Stop saying I wouldn't believe. "Always this hotel room?"
"This what?"
Internal slap in the face. "This place," he specified, resigning to absurdity.
"Sure. It's easy to get into. I like how bright it is," she said, letting her hands fly in a sweeping, demonstrative circle.
It unnerved him how she didn't wear any clothes, nor appeared to feel any obligation to cover herself. Drops of water still clung to her breastbone.
I am dreaming this. I must've fallen from the door straight onto the bed. Maybe there was some flowery stuff on the pillow, I don't know, lavender. Never trust lavender, Colin.
"And nobody ever saw you before?" he asked, as calmly and earnestly as he could manage. "I mean...people like me."
"Bipedal folks? Sure, some have."
"And you weren't frightened? Didn't try to hide yourself?"
She turned to face him then. Her eyes really were very green. "Why?"
"Well," he began, and could've sworn a second ago he had a million of reasons on his tongue he could pass at her.
"Well," he repeated.
Her eyes bore through him, burrowing a tunnel of emptiness inside his brain. Why?
"....I dunno," he finished, lamely. "It would seem...like...a good idea to keep yourself hidden." Because in stories they always did. But she was no story, she was here, she was obviously alive, and he doubted anyone would want to get on the bad side of that powerful, constantly moving tail. "Nevermind. It's just..." Incredible. Impossible. Quite possibly drug induced. "...unusual."
"You're the first one to talk to me, though," she said, smiling good naturedly. "The first one, that is, who doesn't sound all too slurred."
"Thank you," he said, then wondered what he was thanking her for.
"Most of them tend to either pass out, or run away."
"You know, I can imagine that." For the first time, his own laughter echoed across the bathroom now, timid as a small ripple in a pond. "I'm teetering between those two myself."
Her eyes twinkled like tiny bathroom tiles.
It was incredible, but slowly, by and by, his brain was coming to grips with the fact that there was a real, undeniable mermaid occupying half of his hotel suite. He could sense his mind clasp around the concept, like a cat nestling up to his owner's legs, and felt himself relax. A mermaid. Why not. She had a sense of humour, at least, which had to count for something, and even after you'd grown accustomed to her sheer existence, her movements held a captivating grace. If he was going insane, at least he had company.
Hearing that he was capable of laughter and giving not-too-stupid answers seemed to melt something in the mermaid's perception of him; her smile was warm, open and trusting. "So tell me your name, great discoverer."
And whyever not. "Colin.Yours?"
Something in her eyes briefly became wary again, but it flickered before she said, "Tess."
Sure, why not. This was getting fun. "Tess, I don't know how to tell you this but I came into this hotel suite---the place behind the door - ten minutes ago with the intention to head straight for a shower, and now you're occupying my bathtub."
Her tail splashed, in something like mild, teasing indignation. "Gator's hide, we've exchanged names and now you're making demands." She looked across the bathroom in the search for something, though he couldn't tell what it was. "All right, Colin - I'll prefer to call you Great Discoverer, I think - give me ten minutes and I'll be out of here. I've always wanted to see what's behind the door, anyway."
He did a double take to understand what she meant, and his composure slipped again. Instantly, he held tightly onto the bathtub once more, careful not to touch her skin. "You--you're going to come into my room?" Granted, the other option would've been wondering how the hell she had got here in the first place, but...Before he could stop himself, his eyes wandered past the edge, along her bilateral hips, down into the water. Too little foam, way too little. "How---"
"I said give me ten minutes, didn't I." Tess did have a knack for the indulgent teacher's voice. "Out."
"All right." Very, very slowly, Colin edged backwards toward the bathroom door, while she turned her attention back to the mixing tap and seemed already to have forgotten him completely, an attention span flittery as the beat of a fishtail. He knew it must be insolent to do so, but he just had to keep staring at her. If this did turn out to be a dream, and he was mere seconds away from waking up, he wanted as good a picture of her in his mind as possible.
"I am not going to disappear," she called after him as the door clicked shut. He had to resist the urge to yank it straight open again. Truth be told, if he did this, he wouldn't have been surprised if the bathtub were empty again, the whole chamber pristine and untouched. If he was quick enough, if he could fool his eyes inbetween blinks, he might just do it.
Did he want to pass up the chance, though?
"Tess!" he yelled through the door.
"Yeah?"
"Please use a towel."
---
As he leaned against the door, taking a couple deep breaths, it was as if the entire hotel room, or the universe at large, was waving a huge, blaring flag of reality at him. Seriously, Colin Davis. What the hell is wrong with you?
Colin, on his part, desperately wanted to counter with Seriously, universe, what the hell is wrong with you?
Now, with the mermaid - Tess - no longer in his plain sight, his formerly-acquired sense of assurance was gone, had been looked in the room with her. All he had wanted, basically, was a quiet night in a decently clean hotel room before he returned home tomorrow. He hadn't been fickle in the choice. Perhaps he should've been.
He went over and sat on the bed, but rose from it after thirty seconds, suddenly too aware of a pair of legs that desperately needed to move. There were mints on the pillow. Not lavender. Damn.
Stumbled headfirst into a blind date with a mermaid.
Not knowing what exactly drove him to do it, he glanced into the minibar, wondering what mermaids drank. Gin tonic? Diet coke? Saltwater?! Come on.
No, it was no use, he needed to get out of here, if only for ten minutes, needed to feel real, cold air in his face, and his shoes resounding on real pavement. The concierge would probably wonder why he was out so soon after having checked in, but screw it. A short, reflective walk around the block never hurt anybody, especially if you wrote a note saying you'd be back in ten minutes. Ten minutes for her, ten minutes for him, it was a fair deal.
Could mermaids read?
He would have to wait and ask her.
No more excuses.
He wrote the note, laid it on the bed, and left, the door slamming shut behind him.
---
"Going out, Mr Davis?"
The hotel was of the small, modest category, which agreed with Colin's own preferences, not least his wallet. There was basically only a small, round room with a desk positioned at one end, serving as the foyer, plus several flights of steps and an elavator leading up to the corridors with the rooms. (He wasn't a fitness fanatic, but he had gladly taken the stairs tonight. His feet were very grateful for the exercise) A couple potted plants, a few chairs, a magazine rack. Simple, clean and small. There was one downside to it: The concierge could instantly take in the entire room from behind his desk, and the man's eyes had a way of following you around even when you weren't looking. And you had to get past the guy to reach the door.
"Yes, I feel a little...out of it. Need some fresh air," Colin answered, approaching the desk in an absent-minded way and wondering why the heck he wasn't aiming straight for the door.
"Is the room satisfactory?"
He almost would've burst into laughter. How am I to answer that question, with a completely naked and strange woman suddenly appearing in the bathroom? She happens to be sporting a fish tail, too, did I mention it yet? Some part of him really hoped he wasn't losing it. After a few seconds, he settled on, "Sure, no troubles at all."
The concierge faced him across the desk now. How did I end up facing him? In the dim light coming from the overhead lamps, Colin noticed for the first time how incredibly pale the middle-aged man appeared to be - the features were bony in a not-too-unattractive way, which made the dark blue eyes look larger than they actually were at second glance, but his skin looked as if it was regularly dunked in a pot of chalk powder. Perhaps it was some kind of relatively unknown disease, the kind you read about in sensational magazines. The concierge's body certainly did look unhealthily thin, although the posture was straight and respectable, almost graceful, with none of the insecurity usually displayed by sickly people.
"You know, Mr Davis," the concierge began, his voice lilting, "you shouldn't go outside at this time of night, not in our part of town. This is a respectable establishment, you understand, but the surroundings, they're, well...a lot less sophisticated. If you take my meaning, Mr Davis."
Colin wasn't even sure he was listening properly. The melodious sound of the concierge's voice was lulling him in, he could almost see the sonar waves as strings that wrapped themselves around his body. And all the while the concierge was smiling at him - there seemed no way for him to lose the slight upward tilt of his lips - while his huge, owl-ish blue eyes bored into Colin's. Like sapphires put into marble sockets.
He suddenly thought of Tess's green glass shards of eyes, twinkling at him from memory, and wondered if it was true that the truest nature of a person was revealed in their eyes.
Tess.
I was going for a walk.
I'll take that walk. Now.
"No, no, really," he said, his voice firm as he pushed himself off the edge of the desk, with more force than he had planned. "Thank you for the concern and all, but I'll be fine, just taking a scroll around the block." He found he suddenly needed to blink rapidly. The concierge took on a slightly more healthy colour. His eyes dimmed down to a light pale blue.
Colin hurried towards the door.
Tess is a mermaid.
And why not.
As he pushed against the revolving door, an idea suddenly presented itself in his brain, pulled up by the notion of the why not. It was an insane idea. An incredible, unthinkable and frightening idea. But it had the obnoxious nature of a spoiled kid and just stayed there, lurking, waiting for him to pay attention.
I am losing it.
And why not? inquired the obnoxious little kid.
The cold air that met him offered no opinion.
---
The real world outside the hotel. Real, cold night air that bit him in the face.
His real feet, inside his real shoes, squeaking and thumping on real paving stones. They existed. A circular pathway formed from the real paving stones, going around a small lake, a sort of park. Forget about taking a walk "around the block", his feet had driven him to put as much space between that building and himself; every inch forward added another bit of reality, so he had ended up here. With real leaves blowing on real trees.
Cut it out already, Colin. He should've known from the start this was to no avail, anyway. The park was completely deserted, the lake not even all that beautiful to look at in the darkness. The surface sometimes threw the starlight back - stars were real, too, weren't they? - in pretty, random flickers, but Colin felt it was deceptive, even dangerous. If he walked too close to the edge, he might fall in, and Tess was up there in the hotel room, too far away to, you know, do the mermaid thing.
What was he doing here?
"You smell like fish."
The voice was like a razorblade, cutting through his reverie and stopping inches short of his skull.
Colin looked around hurriedly, in a darkness that suddenly was three times deeper. "Excuse me?" he said loudly.
"You smell like fish, man. You reek. I can smell it from here."
In spite of himself, Colin actually felt more annoyed than frightened, for one because he knew he couldn't possibly smell like fish, for another because creepy invisible male voices in the dark had absolutely no business telling him so. He'd really had it with the enigmatic encounters for tonight, wasn't the universe listening?!
"Well, where is here, then? Show yourself, wherever you are!" His voice flickered at the edges just a little, in accordance with the starlight on the lake.
Something painfully rough, like a spiked piece of wood, brushed him, seemed to circle him in quick strokes. Colin desperately wished he could see, but somebody had spilled an inkpot over the already pitchblack night, making the darkness the only thing in any way tangible.
"Y'need to take a shower, man. Why are you smelling like fish." Suddenly there was harsh breathing in his face, and his nose was filled with the pungent smell of old, wrinkled leather, a smell he had always considered pleasant, but decided to change his mind now. Whoever was speaking had an unnerving leather fetish.
"You're one to talk about reeking," Colin breathed, straining to remain aloft, though he didn't dare move. He suddenly wished he had taken the concierge's advice.
Suddenly two hands grabbed him at the wrists, pulled him close. From what Colin could feel, they were most definitely human hands, but their grip was as hard and coarse as cloth washed and dried too often, and the fingers were definitely on the "too long" side of the scale, the tips boring painfully into his skin.
"Hey, what the he---"
The fumes of the hot leathery breath wafted around him and turned his voice into coughs before he could go on. "Fish," the voice hissed again - literally hissed, because it sounded as if it was passing over the jagged edge of a sawblade.
You're losing it, Colin Davis, losing it, and now you're dying at the hands of a perverted sicko in the park. A worthy ending for a lunatic, really.
"You have something that doesn't belong to you," the voice grated on. "Something that I want, man, I need it, do you understand?!"
Drug addict, Colin's mind flashed, not too helpfully. "I don't have anything," he managed to croak.
"Idiot," the voice rasped. "We both know you have it. You reek." The owner of the voice was closer than ever now, what seemed to be his nose touched his, and Colin could almost make out the shadowy outline of human features.
Not that he had ever doubted there would be human features. Why should he?
Suddenly, the owner of the voice let go off him, almost kindly, patiently. It put Colin in mind of tentacles withdrawing from a piece of prey.
Even the breath was kept at a more reasonable distance. "Whatever. You cannot protect it."
"What the hell do you mean?!" he shouted, making extended use of his regained ability to breathe. "Who are you? What the hell do you want, you sick bastard?!"
Instead of an answer, there was only a peculiar sound - a whip snapping, a splash in the water - and then, somehow, he knew the owner of the voice had gone.
"Fuck," Colin managed to say in response to all this, and, as if his body was late in keeping up, now he had to stop his legs from buckling in.
He ran all the way back to the hotel.
So much for ten minutes.
---
"How in Neptune's name do you bipeds measure time?"
"Sorry about that," Colin mumbled as he looked at the closed door. Somehow, with all that distance put inbetween, the encounter with...whatever it had been, now seemed as vague and unimportant as a disturbing dream upon waking, and Tess's voice, even when it teased him, had something of a soothing quality to it. He turned around to look at her. "So you can read."
"I told you, great discoverer - I read about your goldfish naming habits. There are a lot of discarded newspapers swimming around in the sewers, and you catch a headline or two before they dissolve. I taught myself." She sounded a little offended, like she was telling the most obvious facts to a first-grader. However, the tone instantly became warmer at the next words. "Tell me what you think, Colin - do I make a good human?"
He approached her slowly, a mock-serious expression on his face, playing along. He didn't know how she did it, but she managed to look both stunning and astonishing as she sat there on the bed, legs crossed. Legs. Crossed. Okay. He decided he'd check out the legs last.
Her hair was the first astonishing thing - it was short, just like he had assumed when it had been covered by the towel, going down to her chin, framing her face in pleasant ringlets, and the color of dirt.
Literally the color of dirt. The predominant tone was an earthy brown, human enough, but it seemed to move even as she held her head still, and he caught strands of green, appearing for a moment and disappearing again, like algae in a current; there was the occasional speck of pitchblack, a rusty red as if from brickwater, and even bits of greyish-white, like newspaper, only it didn't look at all unnatural on her. Indeed, the top of her head looked as though a heap of the dirt she habitually swam through had somehow merged with her hair, but instead of being repulsive, on her it looked lush, comely and completely natural.
Well, you're starting to have a kind of lopsided approach to what is natural, anyways.
He was glad to find (or maybe - let's get real here - just a tiny, tiny little bit disappointed) that she had minded his discomfort and covered her chest with a long, blue-checkered t-shirt, which he immediately recognized as one of his.
"I couldn't find anything in the...what you call that over there," she said, by way of explanation, and pointed at the closets. Her hands were still webbed.
Still a mermaid, he mused, but didn't say anything. For some reason it made him happy.
She wasn't wearing pants, but the shirt covered her down to the knees, so she probably had decided not to bother.
No more excuses now, he had to look at her legs.
"You don't mind?" he asked cautiously, shooting her a look.
"Go ahead," she said, with a smile. "I don't do this often. As long as it's just looking," she added, more firmly.
They definitely were legs, so much was certain. Her feet were in white hotel slippers, which made him chuckle.
And she was wearing, what...pantyhose?
That's what it appeared to be, at least - they were covered in thick, netted fabric, the same deep, ivy green of her tail.
The same...
Netted...
He jumped.
"Fuck!"
"Thank you for your honest opinion."
"Tess! What is this?!"
"It's my legs, you twit," she informed him, then chuckled again. "Did you think I was simply half-human and could just switch from one to the other?"
His dumbfounded silence counted as much as a loud "Yes, actually."
"Well, I'm not, and I can't, so this is the best I can manage. It takes a lot of effort keeping up, tell you the truth. Stop staring."
"Can't," said Colin, truthfully. "Does it hurt?"
"The splitting does, for a short moment. The mentally keeping at it is more difficult. Part of your brain's gotta be always on the job. That's why I don't do it often."
There was only one appropriate response, which managed to fit the whole freaked night:
"Wow."
Catching himself after a few seconds, he looked her in the face again. In her face was where he knew her best, where she hadn't changed at all. "You're beautiful, Tess. Really, you are." He meant it. "But this is...kinda a lot to take in for one night. I still haven't slept, and...there was this guy in the park..."
"What guy?" Tess asked.
The obnoxious idea in his head piped up, and he gave in. He was talking to a mermaid with legs. "Well, for starters, I think the concierge is a vampire," he confined in her, raising his arms in a gesture of exasperation and surrender. The mermaid, however, did not even raise an eyebrow in surprise. "Pale sort of person, lanky, very intense eyes?"
Colin nodded.
"You're right there. I know the type, vampires, though I don't see them often, obviously."
"Tess, am I losing it?! This is getting too much for one night alone. Mermaids in the bathtub, vampires in the foyer..."
"Well, I wouldn't know what you would be 'losing', really." she said pragmatically. "You said something about a guy in the park."
"Well, it was too dark to see, but he had a breath like a walking old library. Leathery." he added, seeing her confused expression. "Crept up quite close to me, grabbed my hands, and I swear to you, those were claws, and said some nonsense about how I had something that he needed..."
To his astonishment, he saw Tess's face pale turn several shades paler. "Oh God, no."
"Why, what's the matter?"
"I'm in trouble," she mumbled, her voice losing its lilting confidence for the first time that night. She rose from the bed, suddenly agitated, her scaled legs shivering like ivy twines. "Sharks and squids...I know I shouldn't have meddled with humans..."
"What?!" Colin felt the reality of the situation slip out of his fingers again. "What the hell's the matter, Tess? Who was that guy?"
"'Gator," she said simply. "Damn it, I thought they were unable to make the change, that's what made this place safe..."
"Hold on, Tess, that was an alligator? One of your sewer alligators?! Like, humanized?!"
"Yes, great discoverer, you got that right." Nervosity was making Tess' voice strain. "Apparently they've been practicing."
Practicing. "Fucking hell." Well, it makes sense if you think about it.
It was amazing how easily you could get used to firm, undeniable insanity.
"I need to leave." she said and ran for the bathroom door, then, looking more pitiful than amusing, fell over on the ground. Colin could really only stare at her.
"Sharks and squids," she cursed again. "This is making it harder to..." She got up again and reached the bathroom.
Colin got up and followed her, as if in a trance, very slowly. It was all becoming too much for one quite ordinary person to handle.
In the bathroom, Tess had already discarded the shoes and his shirt on the ground and stood by the tub, looking as naked in her strange bipolar form as he had ever seen her. The tub was still half filled with water, she was looking down at it with a calculating glance.
"Tess!"
She turned around to face him, her expression strained, and appeared to really see him for the first time since he had mentioned the man in the park. "I'm sorry you had to be involved in this, Colin," she said, earnestly. "I won't be back. I'll...find some other place to go."
"What about me?!" he cried. "This...gator or whatever it was, will he come after me?!"
For a second only, her face became indulgent again, regained some of its confidence. "Oh, no, silly. They can track me, and me is all they care about. Once they realize you're no longer with me, they'll leave you alone." She paused, then approached him, and for the first time seemed almost shy. "I'm sorry, Colin. Really, I am. You were a nice person, for a biped. Thank you for letting me use this," she added, letting her hands sweep over the room in the familiar gesture.
"You're welcome," he said, dumbly, wondering when he was going to wake up.
"You won't see me again, I promise."
For some reason he did not feel as elated by that promise as he would've been a few hours ago, but didn't press her.
A dream had to end sometime.
"How..."
She didn't even let him finish the sentence.
"Goodbye."
In another moment, where the strange, naked-not-naked woman had stood, a tiny silvergreen fish was hanging suspended in the air above the tub, like a tossed coin, flicked its tail momentarily, and dove into the bathtub, where it disappeared in the drain.
All drains lead to the ocean.
So he was still here, still able to think. Somewhat.
Colin slowly left the bathroom and went over to the bed, where she had sat.
Looked at it for a few seconds, mind empty.
Then, he did the first thing he could think of, which, true to form, was the insane thing.
He dropped onto the mattress and finally fell asleep.
---
"Leaving us already, Mr Davis?"
Colin halted at the bottom of the stairs, gaping unashamed at the person behind the desk.
"Yeah," he said carefully, and began to walk nonchalantly towards the concierge, his grip firmly on the handle of his suitcase, hoping that would keep him in the world and away from the world of hypnosis.
When he had reached the edge and was facing the strange man, he went "It's ten in the morning. How can you still be here?" He didn't need to elaborate on what he had found out, they both knew and didn't address it - a mutual agreement.
"You learn to adapt to different circumstances in time, Master Davis." For some reason, the older way of addressing him suited the man a lot better. "With enough time and patience, our kind can eventually learn to do anything." He smiled at Colin, but there was nothing predatory about it. "Even suppress the hunger. Besides, there is really good sunscreen on the market, nowadays," he added casually.
Granted, in broad daylight, the vampire looked vastly different - the pallor that had made him look graceful and intimidating at night now turned his complexion weak and sickly, his blue eyes were bloodshot and lost all of their glow to a dull iron grey. Colin was sure this would change as soon as the sun went down.
"I cannot believe it," he murmured, more to himself than to the strange man. "Mermaids, vampires, gators taking on human form, hunting down aforementioned mermaids..." He glanced at the old vampire, who smiled his eternal smile indulgently at him. It didn't look as nice as with Tess. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but...how many of you freaks are there of you?"
The man did not appear offended by the word 'freaks'. Too old, probably, too experienced to bother. "You mean what your kind likes to term 'fantastical creatures'? They're all over the world, Master Davis. We don't...mix very often, we usually don't infringe on each other's business, so I can only speak for my own people, but we populate the Earth at least as densely as yours does." His voice still had that lilting, melodious quality, but somehow it failed to reach Colin as intensely as last night. Perhaps it was because it was daytime - or because the vampire had gained enough respect of the human man across him to consider him an equal.
"Then why..."
"Two reasons," the man cut him off, knowing the question already. "We know how to hide ourselves - it's part of who we are. And part of what you are is a reluctance to look very closely. Usually, that is." The perpetual smile went a few inches higher, and for the first time Colin saw the glint of pointy teeth. It accounted for his insanity that he was neither surprised nor scared. "You have a gift of looking. Treasure it."
"If it means I'll come across more freaks, I'll pass..." He thought of Tess and regretted his words.
"Don't think of us as 'freaks', Master Colin. Think of us as..." He seemed to pause, reconsider, and then reach a conclusion, though it was probably only for effect. "Ah, yes. Think of us as chameleons. Are you aware of that animal? They're fascinating creatures, chameleons. And we're like them. We are hard to see for those who don't know how to look, we blend in with our surroundings, and we always have to look in two different directions."
The two men looked at each other.
"Have a nice trip home."
Notes before you guys read:
- Basically, this is an elaboration of a short story I wrote about a month ago. I discovered it again while surfing through older entries in this journal and found - talk about a piece of luck! - that it quite fit this week's theme, only I really wanted to expand on it quite a bit. The original short story - the beginning to this - is 1000 words exactly, and this is about 5000 (my longest piece for brigits_flame yet, but it reads really quickly) so you get an idea of how long I worked at this. Take that into account when you tear me apart ;)
- Music that kept me writing: Imogen Heap's "Speak for Yourself" (HAIL) especially "Loose Ends"
- References to my favourite actor are purely coincidental done entirely on purpose by my obnoxious brain.
- Lastly: Dedicated to my "upcoming" nephew, who will be born in about two weeks and whose name will be Colin-Henk.
There was a trickle of clear water, running down the valley of a woman's naked breastbone, travelling further and further down, until it suddenly spread across the furrowed surface of scales.
The point where the girl's hips joined into the tail hardly rose up from the water from where she was sitting, singular, sporadic scales climbing up her navel like tadpoles climbing a rockface; yet he found he could barely look at anything else. He tried to keep his eyes focused on the water trickling down, only the water, take in all the details of the torrent pouring down and pay no attention to the surface it crossed. But his thoughts were squirming and intangible as snails during intercourse. (Don't even go there.) He didn't trust himself to speak out loud, for fear of blurting out something incredibly stupid or embarassingly honest, or both.
She was enjoying this. Enjoyed it far too much for his liking. And leaned a bit further out of the basin, further than he thought personal space allowed, just to prove she could.
A splash of water on his nose knocked him as awake as he was going to get. "Hey, great discoverer! I'm over here, you twit." She was sitting in the tight round porcelain bathtub with her hands crossed underneath her chin, regarding him with the indulgent smile of someone who's figured you out down to the bone. Then she laughed, a bright, lilting sound thrown back by the bathroom tiles three times. "You know, I read somewhere you call pregnant goldfish 'twits'." There was a rogue twinkle in the light green marbles passing for her eyes. "You look neither pregnant nor especially fishy to me."
"Um." There was a thought, an impossibly stupid, obvious one, he decided to glance at it: Why the hell did he not bolt from the room and check straight back out. But there was the rather probable explanation that he was dreaming, and these sort of dreams usually planted your feet straight in the ground. So he just remained kneeling by the edge, eyes fixed on the foam caused by the bubble bath. Where it was already gone, he could see her tail - as though there was an option not to see it. From what he could grasp, logically it was no longer than a pair of human legs might be (remarkably attractive human legs, mind, but let's stay reasonable.) yet somehow, it managed to be everywhere, curved underneath her body, covering the entire base of the tub, and occasionally splashing water hither and thither with the speedy grace of a whipcrack. Bits of it occasionally rose from the water and dove back down again, like a headless seasnake guarding its territory.
If there was anything dominating the room more than that tail did, it was her voice, and her laughter. Or his unease. He wanted to keep a safe distance from her, wary of that thing she kept moving around, yet moving away was not on his agenda as far as his brain was concerned.
Oh why in God's name did I pick this hotel... There were other ways to ask this question: This room, this night, this universe. But she didn't seem to concern herself with questions like that, instead she turned around twisted and yanked at the fittings in the wall as she ran herself more water, with all the abandon and unconcern of a child let loose at a control panel.
"I love these thingies," she crooned enthusiastically, though he wasn't sure if she was even talking to him in particular. The movements of her hands were determined and graceful, in spite of the translucent skin netting her fingers together. "They constantly add new majiggers to it like you wouldn't believe."
Oh, I would, he thought to himself. "Do you come here often?" he asked out loud, then realized what an amazingly stupid thing that was to ask after five minutes of staring like a moron at a mermaid you found in the bathtub of your hotel suite bathroom.
He let that last pssage run through his head again, deciding the question was justified.
To pull matters completely into the absurd, her hair was cut short, and wrapped into a towel.
"Oh, occasionally," she said, conversationally, as though they were sitting in a bar. She didn't look up from her intense work with the taps and dials. "To get away from the stress in the sewers."
"Sewers." He sent that word up into his brain like a form to be filled out.
"Yes, you wouldn't believe how annoying it is to be dodging the alligators all the time."
Stop saying I wouldn't believe. "Always this hotel room?"
"This what?"
Internal slap in the face. "This place," he specified, resigning to absurdity.
"Sure. It's easy to get into. I like how bright it is," she said, letting her hands fly in a sweeping, demonstrative circle.
It unnerved him how she didn't wear any clothes, nor appeared to feel any obligation to cover herself. Drops of water still clung to her breastbone.
I am dreaming this. I must've fallen from the door straight onto the bed. Maybe there was some flowery stuff on the pillow, I don't know, lavender. Never trust lavender, Colin.
"And nobody ever saw you before?" he asked, as calmly and earnestly as he could manage. "I mean...people like me."
"Bipedal folks? Sure, some have."
"And you weren't frightened? Didn't try to hide yourself?"
She turned to face him then. Her eyes really were very green. "Why?"
"Well," he began, and could've sworn a second ago he had a million of reasons on his tongue he could pass at her.
"Well," he repeated.
Her eyes bore through him, burrowing a tunnel of emptiness inside his brain. Why?
"....I dunno," he finished, lamely. "It would seem...like...a good idea to keep yourself hidden." Because in stories they always did. But she was no story, she was here, she was obviously alive, and he doubted anyone would want to get on the bad side of that powerful, constantly moving tail. "Nevermind. It's just..." Incredible. Impossible. Quite possibly drug induced. "...unusual."
"You're the first one to talk to me, though," she said, smiling good naturedly. "The first one, that is, who doesn't sound all too slurred."
"Thank you," he said, then wondered what he was thanking her for.
"Most of them tend to either pass out, or run away."
"You know, I can imagine that." For the first time, his own laughter echoed across the bathroom now, timid as a small ripple in a pond. "I'm teetering between those two myself."
Her eyes twinkled like tiny bathroom tiles.
It was incredible, but slowly, by and by, his brain was coming to grips with the fact that there was a real, undeniable mermaid occupying half of his hotel suite. He could sense his mind clasp around the concept, like a cat nestling up to his owner's legs, and felt himself relax. A mermaid. Why not. She had a sense of humour, at least, which had to count for something, and even after you'd grown accustomed to her sheer existence, her movements held a captivating grace. If he was going insane, at least he had company.
Hearing that he was capable of laughter and giving not-too-stupid answers seemed to melt something in the mermaid's perception of him; her smile was warm, open and trusting. "So tell me your name, great discoverer."
And whyever not. "Colin.Yours?"
Something in her eyes briefly became wary again, but it flickered before she said, "Tess."
Sure, why not. This was getting fun. "Tess, I don't know how to tell you this but I came into this hotel suite---the place behind the door - ten minutes ago with the intention to head straight for a shower, and now you're occupying my bathtub."
Her tail splashed, in something like mild, teasing indignation. "Gator's hide, we've exchanged names and now you're making demands." She looked across the bathroom in the search for something, though he couldn't tell what it was. "All right, Colin - I'll prefer to call you Great Discoverer, I think - give me ten minutes and I'll be out of here. I've always wanted to see what's behind the door, anyway."
He did a double take to understand what she meant, and his composure slipped again. Instantly, he held tightly onto the bathtub once more, careful not to touch her skin. "You--you're going to come into my room?" Granted, the other option would've been wondering how the hell she had got here in the first place, but...Before he could stop himself, his eyes wandered past the edge, along her bilateral hips, down into the water. Too little foam, way too little. "How---"
"I said give me ten minutes, didn't I." Tess did have a knack for the indulgent teacher's voice. "Out."
"All right." Very, very slowly, Colin edged backwards toward the bathroom door, while she turned her attention back to the mixing tap and seemed already to have forgotten him completely, an attention span flittery as the beat of a fishtail. He knew it must be insolent to do so, but he just had to keep staring at her. If this did turn out to be a dream, and he was mere seconds away from waking up, he wanted as good a picture of her in his mind as possible.
"I am not going to disappear," she called after him as the door clicked shut. He had to resist the urge to yank it straight open again. Truth be told, if he did this, he wouldn't have been surprised if the bathtub were empty again, the whole chamber pristine and untouched. If he was quick enough, if he could fool his eyes inbetween blinks, he might just do it.
Did he want to pass up the chance, though?
"Tess!" he yelled through the door.
"Yeah?"
"Please use a towel."
---
As he leaned against the door, taking a couple deep breaths, it was as if the entire hotel room, or the universe at large, was waving a huge, blaring flag of reality at him. Seriously, Colin Davis. What the hell is wrong with you?
Colin, on his part, desperately wanted to counter with Seriously, universe, what the hell is wrong with you?
Now, with the mermaid - Tess - no longer in his plain sight, his formerly-acquired sense of assurance was gone, had been looked in the room with her. All he had wanted, basically, was a quiet night in a decently clean hotel room before he returned home tomorrow. He hadn't been fickle in the choice. Perhaps he should've been.
He went over and sat on the bed, but rose from it after thirty seconds, suddenly too aware of a pair of legs that desperately needed to move. There were mints on the pillow. Not lavender. Damn.
Stumbled headfirst into a blind date with a mermaid.
Not knowing what exactly drove him to do it, he glanced into the minibar, wondering what mermaids drank. Gin tonic? Diet coke? Saltwater?! Come on.
No, it was no use, he needed to get out of here, if only for ten minutes, needed to feel real, cold air in his face, and his shoes resounding on real pavement. The concierge would probably wonder why he was out so soon after having checked in, but screw it. A short, reflective walk around the block never hurt anybody, especially if you wrote a note saying you'd be back in ten minutes. Ten minutes for her, ten minutes for him, it was a fair deal.
Could mermaids read?
He would have to wait and ask her.
No more excuses.
He wrote the note, laid it on the bed, and left, the door slamming shut behind him.
---
"Going out, Mr Davis?"
The hotel was of the small, modest category, which agreed with Colin's own preferences, not least his wallet. There was basically only a small, round room with a desk positioned at one end, serving as the foyer, plus several flights of steps and an elavator leading up to the corridors with the rooms. (He wasn't a fitness fanatic, but he had gladly taken the stairs tonight. His feet were very grateful for the exercise) A couple potted plants, a few chairs, a magazine rack. Simple, clean and small. There was one downside to it: The concierge could instantly take in the entire room from behind his desk, and the man's eyes had a way of following you around even when you weren't looking. And you had to get past the guy to reach the door.
"Yes, I feel a little...out of it. Need some fresh air," Colin answered, approaching the desk in an absent-minded way and wondering why the heck he wasn't aiming straight for the door.
"Is the room satisfactory?"
He almost would've burst into laughter. How am I to answer that question, with a completely naked and strange woman suddenly appearing in the bathroom? She happens to be sporting a fish tail, too, did I mention it yet? Some part of him really hoped he wasn't losing it. After a few seconds, he settled on, "Sure, no troubles at all."
The concierge faced him across the desk now. How did I end up facing him? In the dim light coming from the overhead lamps, Colin noticed for the first time how incredibly pale the middle-aged man appeared to be - the features were bony in a not-too-unattractive way, which made the dark blue eyes look larger than they actually were at second glance, but his skin looked as if it was regularly dunked in a pot of chalk powder. Perhaps it was some kind of relatively unknown disease, the kind you read about in sensational magazines. The concierge's body certainly did look unhealthily thin, although the posture was straight and respectable, almost graceful, with none of the insecurity usually displayed by sickly people.
"You know, Mr Davis," the concierge began, his voice lilting, "you shouldn't go outside at this time of night, not in our part of town. This is a respectable establishment, you understand, but the surroundings, they're, well...a lot less sophisticated. If you take my meaning, Mr Davis."
Colin wasn't even sure he was listening properly. The melodious sound of the concierge's voice was lulling him in, he could almost see the sonar waves as strings that wrapped themselves around his body. And all the while the concierge was smiling at him - there seemed no way for him to lose the slight upward tilt of his lips - while his huge, owl-ish blue eyes bored into Colin's. Like sapphires put into marble sockets.
He suddenly thought of Tess's green glass shards of eyes, twinkling at him from memory, and wondered if it was true that the truest nature of a person was revealed in their eyes.
Tess.
I was going for a walk.
I'll take that walk. Now.
"No, no, really," he said, his voice firm as he pushed himself off the edge of the desk, with more force than he had planned. "Thank you for the concern and all, but I'll be fine, just taking a scroll around the block." He found he suddenly needed to blink rapidly. The concierge took on a slightly more healthy colour. His eyes dimmed down to a light pale blue.
Colin hurried towards the door.
Tess is a mermaid.
And why not.
As he pushed against the revolving door, an idea suddenly presented itself in his brain, pulled up by the notion of the why not. It was an insane idea. An incredible, unthinkable and frightening idea. But it had the obnoxious nature of a spoiled kid and just stayed there, lurking, waiting for him to pay attention.
I am losing it.
And why not? inquired the obnoxious little kid.
The cold air that met him offered no opinion.
---
The real world outside the hotel. Real, cold night air that bit him in the face.
His real feet, inside his real shoes, squeaking and thumping on real paving stones. They existed. A circular pathway formed from the real paving stones, going around a small lake, a sort of park. Forget about taking a walk "around the block", his feet had driven him to put as much space between that building and himself; every inch forward added another bit of reality, so he had ended up here. With real leaves blowing on real trees.
Cut it out already, Colin. He should've known from the start this was to no avail, anyway. The park was completely deserted, the lake not even all that beautiful to look at in the darkness. The surface sometimes threw the starlight back - stars were real, too, weren't they? - in pretty, random flickers, but Colin felt it was deceptive, even dangerous. If he walked too close to the edge, he might fall in, and Tess was up there in the hotel room, too far away to, you know, do the mermaid thing.
What was he doing here?
"You smell like fish."
The voice was like a razorblade, cutting through his reverie and stopping inches short of his skull.
Colin looked around hurriedly, in a darkness that suddenly was three times deeper. "Excuse me?" he said loudly.
"You smell like fish, man. You reek. I can smell it from here."
In spite of himself, Colin actually felt more annoyed than frightened, for one because he knew he couldn't possibly smell like fish, for another because creepy invisible male voices in the dark had absolutely no business telling him so. He'd really had it with the enigmatic encounters for tonight, wasn't the universe listening?!
"Well, where is here, then? Show yourself, wherever you are!" His voice flickered at the edges just a little, in accordance with the starlight on the lake.
Something painfully rough, like a spiked piece of wood, brushed him, seemed to circle him in quick strokes. Colin desperately wished he could see, but somebody had spilled an inkpot over the already pitchblack night, making the darkness the only thing in any way tangible.
"Y'need to take a shower, man. Why are you smelling like fish." Suddenly there was harsh breathing in his face, and his nose was filled with the pungent smell of old, wrinkled leather, a smell he had always considered pleasant, but decided to change his mind now. Whoever was speaking had an unnerving leather fetish.
"You're one to talk about reeking," Colin breathed, straining to remain aloft, though he didn't dare move. He suddenly wished he had taken the concierge's advice.
Suddenly two hands grabbed him at the wrists, pulled him close. From what Colin could feel, they were most definitely human hands, but their grip was as hard and coarse as cloth washed and dried too often, and the fingers were definitely on the "too long" side of the scale, the tips boring painfully into his skin.
"Hey, what the he---"
The fumes of the hot leathery breath wafted around him and turned his voice into coughs before he could go on. "Fish," the voice hissed again - literally hissed, because it sounded as if it was passing over the jagged edge of a sawblade.
You're losing it, Colin Davis, losing it, and now you're dying at the hands of a perverted sicko in the park. A worthy ending for a lunatic, really.
"You have something that doesn't belong to you," the voice grated on. "Something that I want, man, I need it, do you understand?!"
Drug addict, Colin's mind flashed, not too helpfully. "I don't have anything," he managed to croak.
"Idiot," the voice rasped. "We both know you have it. You reek." The owner of the voice was closer than ever now, what seemed to be his nose touched his, and Colin could almost make out the shadowy outline of human features.
Not that he had ever doubted there would be human features. Why should he?
Suddenly, the owner of the voice let go off him, almost kindly, patiently. It put Colin in mind of tentacles withdrawing from a piece of prey.
Even the breath was kept at a more reasonable distance. "Whatever. You cannot protect it."
"What the hell do you mean?!" he shouted, making extended use of his regained ability to breathe. "Who are you? What the hell do you want, you sick bastard?!"
Instead of an answer, there was only a peculiar sound - a whip snapping, a splash in the water - and then, somehow, he knew the owner of the voice had gone.
"Fuck," Colin managed to say in response to all this, and, as if his body was late in keeping up, now he had to stop his legs from buckling in.
He ran all the way back to the hotel.
So much for ten minutes.
---
"How in Neptune's name do you bipeds measure time?"
"Sorry about that," Colin mumbled as he looked at the closed door. Somehow, with all that distance put inbetween, the encounter with...whatever it had been, now seemed as vague and unimportant as a disturbing dream upon waking, and Tess's voice, even when it teased him, had something of a soothing quality to it. He turned around to look at her. "So you can read."
"I told you, great discoverer - I read about your goldfish naming habits. There are a lot of discarded newspapers swimming around in the sewers, and you catch a headline or two before they dissolve. I taught myself." She sounded a little offended, like she was telling the most obvious facts to a first-grader. However, the tone instantly became warmer at the next words. "Tell me what you think, Colin - do I make a good human?"
He approached her slowly, a mock-serious expression on his face, playing along. He didn't know how she did it, but she managed to look both stunning and astonishing as she sat there on the bed, legs crossed. Legs. Crossed. Okay. He decided he'd check out the legs last.
Her hair was the first astonishing thing - it was short, just like he had assumed when it had been covered by the towel, going down to her chin, framing her face in pleasant ringlets, and the color of dirt.
Literally the color of dirt. The predominant tone was an earthy brown, human enough, but it seemed to move even as she held her head still, and he caught strands of green, appearing for a moment and disappearing again, like algae in a current; there was the occasional speck of pitchblack, a rusty red as if from brickwater, and even bits of greyish-white, like newspaper, only it didn't look at all unnatural on her. Indeed, the top of her head looked as though a heap of the dirt she habitually swam through had somehow merged with her hair, but instead of being repulsive, on her it looked lush, comely and completely natural.
Well, you're starting to have a kind of lopsided approach to what is natural, anyways.
He was glad to find (or maybe - let's get real here - just a tiny, tiny little bit disappointed) that she had minded his discomfort and covered her chest with a long, blue-checkered t-shirt, which he immediately recognized as one of his.
"I couldn't find anything in the...what you call that over there," she said, by way of explanation, and pointed at the closets. Her hands were still webbed.
Still a mermaid, he mused, but didn't say anything. For some reason it made him happy.
She wasn't wearing pants, but the shirt covered her down to the knees, so she probably had decided not to bother.
No more excuses now, he had to look at her legs.
"You don't mind?" he asked cautiously, shooting her a look.
"Go ahead," she said, with a smile. "I don't do this often. As long as it's just looking," she added, more firmly.
They definitely were legs, so much was certain. Her feet were in white hotel slippers, which made him chuckle.
And she was wearing, what...pantyhose?
That's what it appeared to be, at least - they were covered in thick, netted fabric, the same deep, ivy green of her tail.
The same...
Netted...
He jumped.
"Fuck!"
"Thank you for your honest opinion."
"Tess! What is this?!"
"It's my legs, you twit," she informed him, then chuckled again. "Did you think I was simply half-human and could just switch from one to the other?"
His dumbfounded silence counted as much as a loud "Yes, actually."
"Well, I'm not, and I can't, so this is the best I can manage. It takes a lot of effort keeping up, tell you the truth. Stop staring."
"Can't," said Colin, truthfully. "Does it hurt?"
"The splitting does, for a short moment. The mentally keeping at it is more difficult. Part of your brain's gotta be always on the job. That's why I don't do it often."
There was only one appropriate response, which managed to fit the whole freaked night:
"Wow."
Catching himself after a few seconds, he looked her in the face again. In her face was where he knew her best, where she hadn't changed at all. "You're beautiful, Tess. Really, you are." He meant it. "But this is...kinda a lot to take in for one night. I still haven't slept, and...there was this guy in the park..."
"What guy?" Tess asked.
The obnoxious idea in his head piped up, and he gave in. He was talking to a mermaid with legs. "Well, for starters, I think the concierge is a vampire," he confined in her, raising his arms in a gesture of exasperation and surrender. The mermaid, however, did not even raise an eyebrow in surprise. "Pale sort of person, lanky, very intense eyes?"
Colin nodded.
"You're right there. I know the type, vampires, though I don't see them often, obviously."
"Tess, am I losing it?! This is getting too much for one night alone. Mermaids in the bathtub, vampires in the foyer..."
"Well, I wouldn't know what you would be 'losing', really." she said pragmatically. "You said something about a guy in the park."
"Well, it was too dark to see, but he had a breath like a walking old library. Leathery." he added, seeing her confused expression. "Crept up quite close to me, grabbed my hands, and I swear to you, those were claws, and said some nonsense about how I had something that he needed..."
To his astonishment, he saw Tess's face pale turn several shades paler. "Oh God, no."
"Why, what's the matter?"
"I'm in trouble," she mumbled, her voice losing its lilting confidence for the first time that night. She rose from the bed, suddenly agitated, her scaled legs shivering like ivy twines. "Sharks and squids...I know I shouldn't have meddled with humans..."
"What?!" Colin felt the reality of the situation slip out of his fingers again. "What the hell's the matter, Tess? Who was that guy?"
"'Gator," she said simply. "Damn it, I thought they were unable to make the change, that's what made this place safe..."
"Hold on, Tess, that was an alligator? One of your sewer alligators?! Like, humanized?!"
"Yes, great discoverer, you got that right." Nervosity was making Tess' voice strain. "Apparently they've been practicing."
Practicing. "Fucking hell." Well, it makes sense if you think about it.
It was amazing how easily you could get used to firm, undeniable insanity.
"I need to leave." she said and ran for the bathroom door, then, looking more pitiful than amusing, fell over on the ground. Colin could really only stare at her.
"Sharks and squids," she cursed again. "This is making it harder to..." She got up again and reached the bathroom.
Colin got up and followed her, as if in a trance, very slowly. It was all becoming too much for one quite ordinary person to handle.
In the bathroom, Tess had already discarded the shoes and his shirt on the ground and stood by the tub, looking as naked in her strange bipolar form as he had ever seen her. The tub was still half filled with water, she was looking down at it with a calculating glance.
"Tess!"
She turned around to face him, her expression strained, and appeared to really see him for the first time since he had mentioned the man in the park. "I'm sorry you had to be involved in this, Colin," she said, earnestly. "I won't be back. I'll...find some other place to go."
"What about me?!" he cried. "This...gator or whatever it was, will he come after me?!"
For a second only, her face became indulgent again, regained some of its confidence. "Oh, no, silly. They can track me, and me is all they care about. Once they realize you're no longer with me, they'll leave you alone." She paused, then approached him, and for the first time seemed almost shy. "I'm sorry, Colin. Really, I am. You were a nice person, for a biped. Thank you for letting me use this," she added, letting her hands sweep over the room in the familiar gesture.
"You're welcome," he said, dumbly, wondering when he was going to wake up.
"You won't see me again, I promise."
For some reason he did not feel as elated by that promise as he would've been a few hours ago, but didn't press her.
A dream had to end sometime.
"How..."
She didn't even let him finish the sentence.
"Goodbye."
In another moment, where the strange, naked-not-naked woman had stood, a tiny silvergreen fish was hanging suspended in the air above the tub, like a tossed coin, flicked its tail momentarily, and dove into the bathtub, where it disappeared in the drain.
All drains lead to the ocean.
So he was still here, still able to think. Somewhat.
Colin slowly left the bathroom and went over to the bed, where she had sat.
Looked at it for a few seconds, mind empty.
Then, he did the first thing he could think of, which, true to form, was the insane thing.
He dropped onto the mattress and finally fell asleep.
---
"Leaving us already, Mr Davis?"
Colin halted at the bottom of the stairs, gaping unashamed at the person behind the desk.
"Yeah," he said carefully, and began to walk nonchalantly towards the concierge, his grip firmly on the handle of his suitcase, hoping that would keep him in the world and away from the world of hypnosis.
When he had reached the edge and was facing the strange man, he went "It's ten in the morning. How can you still be here?" He didn't need to elaborate on what he had found out, they both knew and didn't address it - a mutual agreement.
"You learn to adapt to different circumstances in time, Master Davis." For some reason, the older way of addressing him suited the man a lot better. "With enough time and patience, our kind can eventually learn to do anything." He smiled at Colin, but there was nothing predatory about it. "Even suppress the hunger. Besides, there is really good sunscreen on the market, nowadays," he added casually.
Granted, in broad daylight, the vampire looked vastly different - the pallor that had made him look graceful and intimidating at night now turned his complexion weak and sickly, his blue eyes were bloodshot and lost all of their glow to a dull iron grey. Colin was sure this would change as soon as the sun went down.
"I cannot believe it," he murmured, more to himself than to the strange man. "Mermaids, vampires, gators taking on human form, hunting down aforementioned mermaids..." He glanced at the old vampire, who smiled his eternal smile indulgently at him. It didn't look as nice as with Tess. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but...how many of you freaks are there of you?"
The man did not appear offended by the word 'freaks'. Too old, probably, too experienced to bother. "You mean what your kind likes to term 'fantastical creatures'? They're all over the world, Master Davis. We don't...mix very often, we usually don't infringe on each other's business, so I can only speak for my own people, but we populate the Earth at least as densely as yours does." His voice still had that lilting, melodious quality, but somehow it failed to reach Colin as intensely as last night. Perhaps it was because it was daytime - or because the vampire had gained enough respect of the human man across him to consider him an equal.
"Then why..."
"Two reasons," the man cut him off, knowing the question already. "We know how to hide ourselves - it's part of who we are. And part of what you are is a reluctance to look very closely. Usually, that is." The perpetual smile went a few inches higher, and for the first time Colin saw the glint of pointy teeth. It accounted for his insanity that he was neither surprised nor scared. "You have a gift of looking. Treasure it."
"If it means I'll come across more freaks, I'll pass..." He thought of Tess and regretted his words.
"Don't think of us as 'freaks', Master Colin. Think of us as..." He seemed to pause, reconsider, and then reach a conclusion, though it was probably only for effect. "Ah, yes. Think of us as chameleons. Are you aware of that animal? They're fascinating creatures, chameleons. And we're like them. We are hard to see for those who don't know how to look, we blend in with our surroundings, and we always have to look in two different directions."
The two men looked at each other.
"Have a nice trip home."