The Mermaid Who Was Mourned

The yearly Mourning Procession was one of the most important gatherings of the Nesirkie Merpeople.

The event was their way of paying homage to a fallen sister who would never have a resting place in the sea. To the Mer, this was a fate far worse than death itself.

The reality of how the mermaid died and when the processions first began is rooted in the long held belief about a mysterious creature. 

According to the beliefs of ancient merfolk, a vicious, tail-less creature lived above the Bright , their name for the surface of the water where they instinctively know not to travel to.

The unspoken rule they all know too well, is based on a myth; a myth that is connected to an occurrence which was actually misunderstood entirely.

This myth involved dragging merfolk from the water and doing heinous things to them, including cutting them up and devouring their flesh.

While the Merpeople never directly talked about such things, the ancient story had been conveyed in all their songs for many moons.

Even the younglings knew the songs the Mer had been singing for nearly a generation. Those who were too young to fully understand, still chimed in to sing about the awful beast with no tail.

The older Nesirkies would listen to the younglings when they gathered in small pods, singing familiar songs about the Bright. 

This was how the entire clan continued to be reminded of what happens if you go near the surface.

Some songs were more graphic than others; describing how the large beast poured something on her body from a strange object, right before gouging and poking her inside, all while she shrieked in pain.

"Beware the beast that has no heart

The beast that has no tail

He'll douse you and he'll gouge your flesh

He'll make you scream and wail"

They sung about the glow of the beast's shinning object, so hot that it seared the flesh. And after several moonless nights, came the final mutilation when she was devoured. 

The Ancients had been right about two things long ago.

The story was too hideous to repeat in a clan gathering, but keeping the memory alive through song was definitely a good deterrent. 

If the songs couldn't prevent merfolk from straying towards the surface then nothing would.

It was comforting to know that baby Mer would tremble with fear at any notion of swimming near the surface of the Bright. Though it seemed a bit cruel, the elders believed it was necessary. 

The little ones were kept in line whenever they envisioned the angry looking beast just waiting to drag them from the water, and brutally kill and eat them for food.

But what the frightened clan of Merpeople didn't realize about the story, was that the witnesses who had seen the "beast" had gotten it wrong. They were grossly mistaken about the events that took place.

There was much about that incident they didn't know or understand.

What the Mer Didn't Know

A waterlogged lifeboat washed up on shore, carrying an unconscious man and a wounded mermaid with several bullets in her torso.

If it hadn't been for the violent storm that spit them out of the ocean, they'd both be dead.

As it was, the small runt of a man had a gunshot injury and was weather beaten, but he was still alive. She was unconscious but still alive also, as least as far as he could tell.

The gunshots came from the smugglers he'd been trying to escape from. They meant to kill him, but all four bullets had missed him except one.

Had the man's timing been a little bit better, he'd have gotten away clean, without detection. Instead, he was discovered while secretly preparing to steal away in a lifeboat.

The storm that had been brewing all day had suddenly came upon the ship, and not a moment too soon. With all the commotion involved in preparing the sails for bad weather, the crew was fully occupied. 

This aided the man in his plans to finally flee from the ship and get away from the mean and hateful shipmates.

He'd been in servitude to the Captain of the smuggling boat ever since he was a boy, yet everyone treated him like he didn't belong.

He was just a scrawny young man who only served as the ship's Cook, and the rest of the crew bullied him constantly. 

Once when the Captain didn't like what he prepared for chow, he lost his temper and nearly cut the man's throat from ear to ear. Instead, his voice box was severely damaged, causing him to never talk again.

The best he could do was make disturbing guttural sounds that made the listener want to cringe. 

The other men would laugh and tease him; mocking how he sounded. After awhile, he simply became completely silent, never bothering to try and speak. 

His big plan to get away from the ship had been reliant on how well he timed it once the opportunity came his way. 

The storm was that opportunity. 

If he hadn't had to sneak into the Captain's cabin and steal some flares, he would have gotten away. 

He was caught leaving the cabin and had to make a run for it.

Being the Cook and working in the galley, he had saved getting rations for last. He figured that part of the plan would be the easiest of all.

Ironically, even though he was able to secure the flares and tuck them safely among the supplies in his bag, he had no choice but to leave the food behind when he fled.

The one bullet that hit him when he jumped overboard, caught him in the leg, causing him to capsize the lifeboat already in the water waiting. 

In spite of the burning pain that shot through his leg, he held onto the boat for dear life.

With the unprepared sails taking a beating, the Captain and crew had their hands too full to worry about an overboard mute. 

They didn't bother trying to pursue him, but instead, left him to the elements. They figured the storm would do the rest.

In the midst of the foul weather and trying to navigate the lifeboat into an upright position, the man couldn't believe what he thought he saw.

A woman?

The woman, or so he thought at the time, had apparently been the recipient of at least two of the other bullets meant for him.

Not only was her upper body bleeding, but just like him, she was thrashing around desperately, trying to stay afloat with the help of the lifeboat.

He managed to turn the boat upright so he could climb in, which wasn't easy, given the stormy conditions and also the knapsack strapped across his shoulder that was weighing him down. 

He knew if he lost the bag before getting into the boat, he was just as good as dead anyway. If nothing else, he needed the 2 bottles of drinking water if he expected to last anytime on the ocean.

By his calculations, there was a land mass close enough for the lifeboat to make it to, if he could survive the storm.

The moment he crawled in the lifeboat, he reached for her hand and swiftly began trying to hoist her up. It was all he could do to pull her into the sinking boat which was barely keeping them afloat.

Immediately he discovered two things.

One: The woman was actually a real live mermaid.

Two: The lifeboat was leaking fast.

Luckily, the wind was thrusting them in the direction of land, so he busied himself with trying frantically to bail waters with his hands.

Eventually he gave up exerting himself and just stopped. All he could do was hope for the best.

He looked at the mermaid and could tell from her shallow breathing that she was still alive in spite of the bullet holes in her body. 

She was clearly afraid based on the fear in her eyes, but she was too weak to protest when he came close. He moved back just in case; not feeling particularly safe about her either. 

If he hadn't been so worried about potentially drowning, not to mention the pain from his own injuries, he might have been afraid, or at least more curious.

For a moment he wondered if any of it were real, or if he was in the middle of a nightmare. 

Between his injuries, the storm, and the entire ordeal, he suddenly felt exhausted and couldn't keep his eyes open.

It wasn't long before he lost consciousness.

How they made it to shore, he had no idea. He woke up to see that the boat had actually made it to a small strip of land, nestled between two crags.

They were both lying inside the nearly deflated ring of plastic, still wet from the constant lapping of the waves as they hit the shore.

He sat up and reached for the survival bag that he had held so tightly to in the water. After checking the condition of the contents stored neatly in a waterproof bag, he grabbed one of the 2 bottles of water and took a swig.

His mind did another assessment of the bag's contents. First Aid Kit, a sharp pocket knife, a cigarette lighter, and a pint of gin, plus the one remaining bottle of water. No food at all.

Before he could begin to worry, he was interrupted by the disturbing sounds coming from the mermaid. She was regaining consciousness, and was clearly in a world of pain.

Though the tide seemed to be rising and the tail part of her body was still covered by water, her upper region was only moist and the skin looked like it was peeling.

After hydrating himself and trying to collect his thoughts, the man soon jumped into action.

First he tended to his own injury. In spite of the excruciating pain he was feeling, he discovered that the bullet had not entered his leg, but had merely nicked the bone and damaged the surrounding flesh.

When the mermaid became more agitated as she slipped in and out of consciousness, that's when he decided he had better help her before wrapping his wound. The leg could wait.

He wasn't quite sure what exactly to do for the creature, mostly because she wasn't human and she was in a lot of pain. He knew that no matter what he did to try and help her, she'd behave like an injured animal and react out of fear.

Deciding that he had no choice, he took a deep breath and prepared for the reaction he expected.

When he dragged himself near enough to reach her, he forced himself to ignore her screams of pain so he could do what he could to save her.

He used the few items in the bag and the First Aid Kit to serve as his surgical supplies. 

There was no doubt in his mind that her only chance relied on him getting the bullets out, and even then, the chance of her surviving was slim.

As she continued to alternate between loud shrieks and making low guttural sounds in her throat, she made weak attempts at protesting his efforts, but they were all in vain.

Before attempting his amateur surgery on the mermaid, he poured some of the gin all over her, just as you'd do a human, to try and disinfect the wounds.  

He resisted the urge to take a drink to steady his nerves. He decided it was best he kept his wits about himself, as he went about the task of trying to remove the bullets.

The long shrill high pitched sound she let out was nearly too much for his eardrums. He knew he was hurting her, but he had no choice.

He had to get those bullets out. 

There were two in her torso, but he discovered later that there was also one in her tail, which was why she hadn't been able to swim away when they were in the ocean.

He proceeded to use the knife and dig the bullets out, as he did his best to ignore her screams of pain.

The worst part came when he lit one of the flares and tried to cauterize the wound. She was so overcome with pain that she passed out for good this time. 

When the man had done all that he possibly could for the mermaid, he finally allowed himself to really look and marvel at the creature in front of him.

This time, he observed and fully took in just how incredible she was. A magnificent creature, even with the bullet holes and crude surgery he had just performed on her.

He sat staring for a long time, still in disbelief and partly in shock.

After a while, the water had risen to it's highest point, and the boat was almost completely submerged. 

He dragged himself out and away from the deflated boat and left her lying there unconscious, hoping she'd eventually recover. 

Once he found somewhere to secure the cord connected to the lifeboat, he leaned against one of the crags and allowed his body to finally rest.

It appeared to be dusk and he was wet, cold and hungry. 

His eyes felt heavy and gritty as he watched the sun preparing to set on the horizon. His stomach growled several times before he drifted off to to sleep. 

Just as he suspected, when he woke up the next morning the mermaid was dead. He knew even before he checked to be certain, and before he caught the stench of the burnt and now rotting flesh.

Never before had the man had such an overwhelming sense of sorrow and grief. 

Such a magnificent creature and no one would ever get to see her. No one would even believe she existed when he told them about her.

The thought suddenly struck him as funny - the irony of him worrying about being believed, when he would probably die right there alongside the creature.

He began to laugh uncontrollably, but the sounds from his damaged throat were closer to the guttural sounds that had come from the mermaid. 

The laughter continued and that was the beginning of his descent into madness. 

Not only was he too weak and injured to try and scavenge for food, but there was actually no feasible place to look. The patch of land that he was marooned on offered nothing of substance. 

The little water he had brought with him didn't last long, and against his better judgement, he ended up drinking the gin.

Sick from the alcohol, coupled with hunger and dehydration, he was in and out of consciousness an entire day. To top it off, his leg wound wasn't healing.

Following two days of hunger, and his mind nearly gone, he took out the pocket knife. The horror of what he knew he must do was too much to deal with. 

His last bit of sanity slipped away as he laughed hysterically and began cutting and consuming the fish tail of the mermaid.

The Myth Lives On

The man never knew there were three witnesses to the harsh events that took place on the shore hidden between those crags. 

And the witnesses never knew what became of the tail-less beast after seeing it devour their mer-sister. 

When they realized they wouldn't be able to retrieve her body, they had fled and gone back to the ocean.

The mermaids had observed everything the man did, except for what happened later after they left.

That night, while they were on their journey back to the deep, the man had wept like a baby out of both grief and guilt. 

He was deathly sick to his stomach and knew he wouldn't last through the night. The unwanted meal had been in vain.

He mourned for the mermaid and how she had died, but also because of what he'd been forced to do to try and stay alive himself. 

More than anything he wished he could take it back. 

He was devastated for having cut the mermaid's tail, even though he thought it meant his own survival.

Sadly, he accepted the fact that just because she was already dead, it didn't make it right to desecrate her. He died with the knowledge of that on his conscious.

The witnesses were long gone and they would never know the truth.

Although they could go back and tell what their eyes saw, their interpretations of the events were misconstrued. 

The scene the three mermaids had witnessed on the surface was hard for the Merpeople to hear about; almost as hard as it was for the three of them to have to repeat the details to the assembly. 

The entire clan mourned the dead mermaid from one full moon all the way to the next.

It was then that the Council of Ancients made the decision to never gather and repeat the story again - but to always hold onto the memory out of fear for their lives.

That was when the songs first began about the mermaid who was mourned, and soon after, the first Mourning Procession was held.

All the Nesirkie were in attendance, and they've been attending the procession every year, ever since.