“I will strike the water and it will be changed into blood”

Coralia contemplates the last rays of the sun hitting the Atlantic Ocean as she swims back towards her sisters in Neverland. She’s been off for a week now, visiting a good friend of hers that lives at the bottom of the Brooklyn harbor. He’s a nice guy of Italian descent with curious concrete shoes. She met him a couple of months before as she was trailing a Russian freighter. The guy’s not much of a talker, which is good in the end because she’s able to unload all her problems on him.

He’s a great fuck as well, not much initiative but man he’s stiff, he’s never tired, never complaining and always ready for a second or even a third pass.

She’s been swimming since the morning following the Gulf Stream and then catching a ride on the North Atlantic Drift. Around noon her path crossed a medium sized trawler. For her it was a nice lunch with the fishermen, but for the Bermuda triangle enthusiasts it will be another missing boat mystery. As the sun sets over the horizon, she surfaces to admire the view. She’s always enjoyed a good sunset over Neverland. The island is now just a few miles away but she’ll have to swim against the tide and she won’t make it until long past moonrise. The seagulls have been following her since morning. The dirty water of the Hudson River has gotten under her scales and she’s starting to smell like old dead fish. She’s impatient to wash herself in the clear water of her pond. She doubles the pace.

She surfaces again when she reaches the shallow waters that surround her pond. A bit further away, she spots her sisters bathing in the moonlight. It’s awfully late for them to be out. She had expected to be able to slip directly into bed and get the chance to wash up from the trip in the morning but apparently destiny has decided otherwise. Ondine, her twin sister, waves at her, offering Coralia to join them.

Since she’s been travelling all day and must look terrible, she decides to swim to her underwater room first, to refresh a bit. She couldn’t forgive herself if her sisters saw her in such a messed up state; they wouldn’t let her forget about it either. Mermaids are real bitches when it comes to appearances.

The little door to the little cave she calls her own is open.

She’s almost sure she closed it before leaving. Since the place seems undisturbed she closes the door behind her and swims to the little cache where she keeps her valuables in. She takes out the small mirror she found in a large wreck a few miles off the Greenland coast. The vessel was an absolute titan and she looted lots of nice trinkets from it but her most prized possession is this beautiful handheld mirror she took from the cold hands of a really elegant lady that didn’t seem to mind. She looks at her reflection.

Her hair needs some heavy comb action and her makeup demands some fixing too. A long facelift later, she smiles. The image in the mirror smiles back at her. Much better, she thinks. She pauses. The door behind her is open again. She turns around. Ondine is standing between her and the exit. Ondine has always looked exactly like her, but now there’s something off, something different, something sharky about her. Casting away the though Coralia starts to smile. Suddenly something hits her; she freezes; there was only one image of her in the mirror. She looks back into the mirror, back to Ondine, back to the mirror, back to Ondine. Observing her twin sister’s comings and goings, Ondine smiles revealing a pair of oversized canines.

Coralia drops the precious mirror and tries to escape, but the vampire mermaid is upon her, a clawed hand over her mouth. Ondine’s tails wraps around Coralia’s waist. Her ivory fangs swiftly penetrate the white neck of her sister releasing a cloud of red blood into the water. The pain is intense. Whipping her tail, Coralia manages to free herself. She swims for the door and back into the night. She feels weak but she knows that she has to get to open sea if she’s to survive. Her other sisters are waiting for her.

Despite her fatigue and with strength born of despair she swims like she’s never swum, leaving her hungry sisters behind her. After a short chase she loses them in the coral reefs. The bite on her neck has stopped bleeding, the salty sea water serving as band aid. The sharp pain of her wound is quickly fading away replaced by a strange cold numbness.

She surfaces observing the island. Swimming away is not an option; she has to go back to try to make sense out of what just happened to her. She decides to get the council of her friend Tinker Bell. Unlike the other mermaids she’s always been quite fond of the choleric little fairy. Taking a large detour she swims up river towards Pixie Hollow. As she swims towards what she hopes will be help, the wound on her neck starts radiating a dark energy through her backbone. The last few hundred yards are particularly difficult as the river becomes a small stream but it’s not the first time she’s navigated those waters and she gets to her friend’s resting place in no time. Expecting to find the place to be asleep she’s surprised to find the clearing buzzing with energy. Hundreds of strange looking pixies fly in all directions like a swarm of fumigated bees.

She hides behind a rock and observes the turmoil. The pixies seem to be getting ready for something. Soon a large ringing ovation rises into the night sky. At first she doesn’t understand but soon a couple of young women are dragged in the center of the clearing. The fairies form a hovering circle around the terrified girls. They must be in their early twenties, they’re both wearing the torn remnants of very tiny swimsuits, one is blond and the other one is redheaded. Coralia, to her own stupefaction, pictures herself having steamy sex with the two women. She shakes her head to dismiss the strange thoughts and gets her attention back on the scene. The blonde is crying, the redhead tries to beg for their lives with a strong American accent. In the midst of her implorations, Coralia understands that they both where on a cruise boat. The pixies attacked the boat at sundown, killed everyone on board except for the girls and took them back to Neverland. The ring of fairies closes on the crying Americans.

The pixies finally attack, biting ruthlessly their two victims. Waving her arms the redheaded manages to repel the swarm and stand but she only takes a couple of steps before collapsing again under the dozens of fairies sucking her blood. The moans of pleasure echo in Coralia’s mind as she swims away from Pixie Hollow.

She reaches the main river and decides to swim to the Indian camp. The situation is too grave for her not to put aside the petty differences that have eaten away the relationship she had with the Indian princess. The camp per se is away from the river but Coralia knows that there should be a guard near the water. It’s getting harder and harder to concentrate, her mind being overwhelmed with weird erotic images. She reaches the spot but there’s no one to be seen. In the distance she can see a very large fire at the center of the camp with Indians dancing around it. It must be some sort of religious celebration. A discreet splashing sound attracts her attention. In a recess of the river, shielded from view, she finds two Indian girls naked in the shallow water. Their dark hair highlights the unusual pallor of their skin. One of the girls has her mouth locked on the shoulder of the other one. The other one is repeatedly sliding a gentile finger in the fold of her friend’s intimacy as the water bath her own.

They both share a long and voluptuous purr. They haven’t noticed Coralia yet and her first impulse is to join them. She’s incapable of turning away, fascinated as she is, by the perfect alabaster asses and pussies pointing in her direction. She’d like to run a tongue in that and maybe slip a finger or two in it… She shakes the idea away and gets closer, clearing her throat. The Indian girls turn towards the mermaid. The one biting the other has blood all over her face and they both sprout huge fangs. The repeated orgasms have covered their eyes with a thin layer of tears. Terrified, Coralia backs out and swims away downstream. The Indian girls ignore her and go back to their games.

The mermaid has **** now. She has to go get Peter. She avoided the Jolly Rodger ever since it arrived to the island. Not even the **** of Hook has changed that. The waters that surround the boat are still inhabited by the ticking crocodile and she’s always known better than to put her tail anywhere near the terrible jaws of the monstrous beast.

Weaker by the minute she lets the stream carry her to the mouth of the river. Her mind is now mostly clouded by thoughts of blood and lust. Before fading in darkness she sees the boat in the distance but she’s too weak. Losing all hope she abandons herself to the dark power overwhelming her. The last thing she hears is “tick tock”.

When she comes to her senses, Coralia is assaulted by the foul stench of putrefaction. “Tick tock” she hears again. She knows she should be, but she’s absolutely not afraid. The discomfort from the bite has left her, she feels more powerful than she ever has. She opens her eyes. She’s on her belly in a very dark cave. Despite the absolute darkness she’s able to see the tiniest details: the complex interlacing made by the piles of bones, the flies running on the dried blood on the walls, the small pool in the center of the room that must connect this cave to the ocean. She lifts her head. To her left a corpse is rotting, his left hand is replaced by a metal hook. She smiles. To her right, she hears that same sound again: “Tick Tock”. She turns towards the crocodile who thinks he has found an easy lunch…

Covered in the crocodile’s innards, Coralia looks at the clock in her hand. It has stopped. No creature in Neverland will ever need to fear the cold decay of time anymore. She feels hungry, hungry for life. She dives into the small pool and makes her way through the labyrinth of tunnels that used to compose the crocodile’s lair.

When she exits the maze, she’s at the bottom of the Jolly Rodger’s bay. The boat hasn’t moved. She swims closer to it and surfaces. The fresh night breeze lashes her face with the salty air, she inhales deeply. She can hear the sentinel snoring on the forward deck. She starts singing. The power of her song has been greatly improved as the pirate almost instantly jumps into the water. No letting him catch his breath and scream for help she drags him towards the floor of the sea. There, she pins her victim to the sand and sinks her fangs into his neck. A silent cry for help deforms the sailor’s face. She gorges on his blood rubbing her tail against the bulge forming in front of the man’s pants. When she releases her prey, she realizes that she’s surrounded by her sisters. As the sailor’s corpse drifts away, Ondine extends a hand and invites her to join her in the attack of the Jolly Rodger. A large swarm of fairies has already engulfed the deck. The Indians are climbing the flanks of the boat and jumping on the merry pirates. The song of the siren is dragging the sailors into the water. At the top of the highest mast, Captain Peter is fighting off wave after wave of vampires. He’s valiantly holding the monsters at bay but as more and more pirates fall, the fate of the Jolly Rodgers is clearly sealed. The smell of blood fills the air. Coralia happily joins in the last battle of Neverland.