The day was going to be great; Mark knew it. Some internal instinct told him that today was going to be special. Too many things were beyond satisfactory for the day not to be exceptional. The weather was pleasant, perhaps the nicest of the year. At least, so far, as it was only the middle of April. The cloudless sky, vacant of everything but the burning sun, was but a taste of what was to come. It marked the coming of summer and the things that came with it. 

Mark loved the summer and the exciting fun that it brought. It was a time for making friends and building relationships. The long days made it ideal for filling with many activities, such as going on walks, admiring natural spots, and getting lost in woodland areas. It was as if the days were designed for having as much fun as possible. There was time for anything and everything in the summer.

Every weekend, the youthful members of the town’s small population migrated to the beach. It was a social haven for them, where they could do anything, away from the observation and judgement of their parents. It was the weekend, and they were free from rules.

Mark had collected his friends, Alison and Adrian, who lived nearby. They had all been friends since primary school. In his tiny, unreliable car, they all made their way to the local beach. They probably could have walked; it might have even been faster. Mark had only just passed his driving test, and it was the perfect excuse for them to utilise a new means of transport. 

“Wow, this thing is cheap,” said Alison.

“And where exactly is your car?” asked Mark rhetorically.

Mark was the first and only member of their friend group to have learned to drive. He was often the most focused on goals and had a deeper process of thinking.

The car juddered and began to make a strange mechanical noise. Mark stalled the vehicle as they came to a crossroads. The car behind them sped up and overtook them out of impatience, narrowly avoiding a minor collision. It took a few attempts to restart the car. Meanwhile, the vehicle rolled onward. His steering was off as he was distracted by the embarrassment of the situation. He managed to clip one of the signposts as they passed by before straightening out, back into the centre of the road.

“Well, thank God it’s not an expensive ride,” said Adrian.

Alison began to laugh. It was the infectious laugh of a true friend, not one of mockery. It prompted the other two to also laugh.

Once the car was back in motion, it only took a couple of minutes to arrive at their destination.

It was not the typical sort of beach. There was no soft, golden sand that stayed warm all day. Instead, it was made up of sharp shards of shingles and pebbles that were problematic to walk on. Still, it was all that they had; it was all that they needed. 

 “Oh no, you’ve brought that hefty thing,” said Alison. He did not need to look to know what Alison was referring to. Like all of his friends, she mocked him for carrying around his camera. When he was slightly younger, he had intended to become a wildlife photographer, and the camera was a present from his uncle. Photography quickly became something that Mark was passionate about.

“I’m afraid so,” said Mark.

“You know I love to take some pictures,” he added.

“You could have warned; I would have done my hair nicely,” said Alison.

Mark laughed for a moment before continuing on with their discussion. He always enjoyed Alison’s humour; she was always great company.

“It’s more for the scenery, you know,” said Mark. “The beach, the ocean, and the rock structures.”

Alison tilted her head slightly and gave him a peculiar look. It was similar to the look a puppy has when it has been confused by something. It was a reaction that Mark was familiar with. Everyone treated his passion for photography like some exotic activity. His parents said it was because it was something adults did, especially as they grew older, and that children often did not appreciate the natural world like him. He often had to remind them that he was an adult, like them. They would rephrase whatever comment they had made, but he knew they still saw him as a child. 

He had not long turned eighteen.

“Oh, don’t forget the beer,” said Mark. “It’s under the red blanket.”

Adrian’s carrying load suddenly went from being full to lacking in what he was capable of carrying. He made no effort to hide his efforts to appear helpful. It was only the drink he wanted. 

Alison and Adrian exchanged looks of pleasure as they eyed up the carton of cans. They were at the age where alcohol was the cool thing, simply because it was new and something they could add to the mix.

The sun began to set, and the lighting became perfect for Mark and the pictures he desired to take. He took out his camera and moved away from the crowd to find the ideal location. Other than his shorts, he wore nothing but the strap of his camera.

He analysed the beach through the viewfinder of the camera. He moved along the beach, guided by his creative intuition. The rock formation that stretched from the coast and into the ocean attracted his attention. The rough surface of the stone was as sharp as a blade. 

Mark recalled a childhood event. As a young boy, he had ventured close to the rocks. The force of the tide had pushed him against the pointed rock. He had needed a few stitches. The pain of the past has always served as a reminder to stay away from the rocks.

Something was present in the water. Mark could feel it. An eerie presence and watching eyes were weighing him up. He could even feel the rough location of the stalking predator. As he looked towards the source of the allure, something moved with haste, an elusive blur. He returned to taking pictures.

Before long, he could once again feel the creature’s stare. He looked towards its presence, anticipating that it would vanish once more. To his surprise, the being did not flee. It was a few metres away. A head stood strong above the water, unphased by the waves. 

The creature had a pale glow and a waxy skin coating that shimmered with beads of water. Long silver hair, which partially covered its face, flowed down into the water like the roots of a plant. The creature moved with the water, unopposed by the force of the waves. It was at one with the tide. Most striking of all was the spectral glow of the two milky eyes that became locked onto Mark. It was like the stare of this creature could be felt, like a physical force.

Strangely, Mark could see a great beauty in this being. It was not an obvious beauty, but it certainly was present. It was like when a fierce creature was admired in captivity. It was the beauty found in nature. Mark resisted the urge to take a picture. Certain things in the natural world can only be admired in person. This feminine creature became more and more interesting to Mark. The more he looked at it with a confident stare, the more he liked it.

The being began to move closer. As each wave approached, the water seemed to move around her, as though she were indifferent to the water. With each step, more of her silky skin was exposed, exclusively for Mark’s eyes. When she was just out of arm’s reach, she halted. Mark felt like she wanted him to look. Even more, she wordlessly demanded his attention. There was an unseen force between himself and the naked female form of the creature. Mark stood, captivated by the being’s allure, with the water up to his knees. His hand was frozen around the mount of his camera, which he still held by his side.

The sun had nearly vanished from the sky. The glow of the moon seemed to admire the naked female features of the being. The light identified her pale and pasty complexion and a lack of body hair. Like the roots of a plant burrowing through its surroundings, silver strands of hair emerged from her head. Her eyes seemed to flicker, like a fire that burned with a white flame.

It was strange to be attracted to something like this. It was woman enough for him to be attracted, yet it was also something else. It was a type of being that Mark had never heard of before. Too animal-like to be a human, yet too human to be considered an animal. And the combination was too strange for him to have never heard of.

“What are you?” asked Mark. His words seemed to have no effect, losing all meaning, even to himself. 

“What are you? Stop, don’t,” he tried to form a comprehensible string of words. 

He ventured into the shallows of the water. Moving around the natural structure, he photographed the vantage point of the beach. The light of the day was fading with speed. He needed to move fast.

She locked her teeth into where his neck met his torso. The immense amount of pain that hit Mark seemed to increase, wave after wave. The creature remained locked onto him with a tight grip that defied his attempt to push her away.

His hand, which was still around the grip of his camera, instinctively pressed down. Flash after flash came radiating out of the camera. With a hiss, the creature retracted her grip on Mark. He tried to make it to the beach, which was only a short distance away. His attempts were useless. The bite had delivered something chemical in nature and malicious in intent. Mark put all his effort into producing some form of movement; he knew his life was at stake. The bite produced a paralytic effect, which moved from the site to the rest of his body. Although he could not move his muscles, he still felt the pain of the bite. As he glanced back to see where the creature was, he could no longer move. For a moment, she waited with only the tip of her head out of the water.

“Mark?” The voice of Alison was in the distance. She was too far away. As much as he wanted it, he knew 

They were out of reach. His friends would not reach him in time.

Once she realised that the bite had taken effect, she stood tall. With a newfound confidence, she once again approached him. Everything about her had changed. Intrigue and curiosity were replaced with horror and fear. The delicate nature of this being had gone, as had the true nature of this predator of the water. But still, there was beauty in her form.

“You are mine.”

The words took him by surprise. For some reason, he had not considered that she could speak. Her words were heavy in an accent that Mark could not place.

“Alison!” the waves swallowed his attempt to shout for help.

“Adrian over here!” He tried to shout but could only summon a whisper. The paralysis had reached too much of his body, and he could no longer form any words.

The milky hue of the being’s eyes had subsided. Locked on him, the red eyes of his killer stared back. They matched the hue of the blood—his blood—that coated her form. She took hold of his arm, tightening her frigid and firm grip. She turned towards the vastness of the ocean and moved into its depths. Mark was pulled along behind her. He accepted his fate, knowing that his death was a certainty. A strange sense of gratitude was present—that his death had come at the hands of such beauty.