By Jess Charle
My names Casey and I’m reaching out because my friend Dave has been missing for almost 24 hours now. The police have no leads. I think they presume he’s dead.
Dave and I had plans to hang out yesterday. You know, the usual: beer, video games, talk some shit. Nothing too crazy (hell, it was a Wednesday and we both work 9 to 5s).
I texted him as I left work. “heading out, gonna run by Nick’s, need anything?”
Nick’s was what we called the liquor store near Dave’s place. We’re there pretty regularly, so we know the owner, Nick, as well as random customers probably can. I guess we thought it was cool or something, calling the store Nick’s. Like we were stopping by a friend’s house instead of paying another human being for alcohol.
I thought it was odd that Dave didn’t respond, he’s usually pretty good like that, unlike me, but whatever. I figured he was busy or something. I got some supplies at Nick’s, then drove over.
Dave’s door was wide open. At least, that’s what I thought at first. I parked the car and got out. My stomach dropped as I realized that it wasn’t just opened but had been ripped off it’s hinges and thrown across the yard.
I ran inside and the place was an absolute wreck. It didn’t look like a home invasion, but instead like the Hulk had had a temper tantrum. Furniture was broken, pictures ripped off of the walls, his TV thrown across the room. I immediately called the police.
I walked from room to room while I waited for the cops to show. Every room was utterly devastated. Someone had destroyed everything in sight. The whole place radiated pure hatred and anger. Dave’s composition notebook that he uses as a journal was thrown on the bed, and I noticed that there was a small spurt of blood on the front cover. I grabbed it, and threw it in my bag. I know that’s bad… I know it could be evidence, but… I guess I figured I’d read it before giving it to the police. So I could see what my friend was going through before whatever happened… happened.
What I read was seriously messed up. I’m publishing the entries from the past week below. If you know anything, if any of this sounds familiar to you, please let me know.
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June 16th
I met someone today. She’s the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She’s mysterious, and gorgeous, and I am truly, deeply in love.
I went to the docks after work to fish a little, have a few beers, and get into weekend mode. The pier here is never what one would refer to as “busy,” but the main section was too crowded for my tastes today, so I walked a bit deeper into the maze of docks than normal till I got to an old section of private landings. They looked like they hadn’t been used in years, algae staining the wood an eerie green. I was careful where I stepped, worried I might fall through a rotting board. I’ll admit, it was a little gross, but I felt so at peace there. Plus, I figured the fish would be pretty plentiful without tourists or boats to scare them off.
I was zoning out, waiting for my line to bob down into the water when she was suddenly there, right in front of me. It was as if she just appeared. She instantly took my breath away. Her red hair was pulled back with a headband adorned with large glittering seashells. She giggled, and offered me her delicate hand. Not as you would to shake someone you just met’s hand, but how you see well-to-do women in period movies present their hands to gentlemen. It was a little unorthodox, but that’s what I love about her. She’s so quirky. She’s different than any girl I’ve ever met before.
I took her hand gently in mine. It was so cold. Girls’ hands are always cold. I kissed her skin delicately, and electricity surged through my body as I looked up into her dark, piercing eyes. I know it’s cliche, but her stare is burrowing. Like she’s trying to see something hidden behind my skin, beneath my voice, under my face. If she told me what she was looking for, I’d give it to her in a heartbeat.
We talked for several hours. At sundown, she told me she had to go home. She’s a little old for a curfew, and it is Friday night, but being the gentleman I am, I gave her a kiss on the cheek and watched her leave.
I sat on that old dock for another hour or so, ruminating on the beauty of life. That I could find my soul mate so unexpectedly, and in the most unlikely place is a testament to the mystery that surrounds each and everyone of us.
I wrote a poem about her:
Blood red hair, skin so fair, Your beauty is rare.
Wild as an untamed mare, No mortal could compare.
You are the answer to my prayers, Life without you, a nightmare.
I dream to catch your pale skin bare, To lay you down, in your underwear.
Sailors beware I have been, ensnared
June 17th
BFB came again today. I don’t think she has a name, at least not a real one, so I’m going to call her BFB. It’s cute. Much cuter than something lame, like bae. It’s cool. God, she’s so cool. I can’t fathom why such an amazing creature would be interested in me. I brought my reel and bait to the docks again, much earlier in the morning than I usually do on a Saturday, but it was worth it. She appeared the second I sat down. I spent the entire afternoon talking with her. She’s amazing. Her life is full of wonders I can barely even begin to comprehend.
I read her the poem I wrote for her yesterday. She really liked it. Poetry has that effect on women. Casey always makes fun of me for writing poetry, but he doesn’t realize that it’s a total panty dropper.
That would be a good band name: The Panty Droppers. I bet it’s already taken though.
I think I’ll bring my guitar tomorrow when I visit her. I promised I’d come to the docks first thing in the morning again, so we could spend all day together before the work week starts. I’m going to bring some picnic stuff. A blanket and some sandwiches. What can I say? I’m a romantic at heart.
June 18th
BFB gave me a bracelet today. It’s not really my style. Honestly, it’s kind of gawdy. It’s a thick coarse string with little shells on it. I feel like it’s for a girl, not a guy, but she made it for me, so I couldn’t say no.
I guess the picnic was a bad idea. I had made egg salad sandwiches, and bought some nice cheese and crackers at the Farmer’s Market on my way. When I presented the food to her, she gagged and pushed it away so hard that the box of crackers fell off the dock and into the water. At first I figured she was vegan, since quirky girls often are. But something weird happened later on…
We were lounging together in silence. I was laying on my back on the dock while she was in the water. That’s how you know you’re really compatible with someone, when you can sit in silence and it’s not uncomfortable. My middle school English teacher said that once. I think we were reading The Pearl by Steinbeck. I bet BFB would like that book. Maybe I could read it to her soon. She’d love that. Anyway, I had my pole leaning against my bait box and I got a bite. I reeled it in, excited to show BFB my skills.
Even I was impressed with the size of the flounder I had hooked. BFB clapped with absolute glee at the sight of it. I was feeling pretty good about myself as I unhooked it and showed it to her. BFB grabbed the fish, still squirming slightly between her fingers, and began to eat it. Right then and there. She gorged on it, from its eyes to its tail. I watched in horror as she picked the small bones from her teeth. She grinned at me sheepishly when she noticed me watching. Her coquettish smile made me melt inside, and lessened the disgust from what I had just witnessed.
I think tomorrow I’ll bring BFB some sushi.
After I got over the whole fish thing, the rest of the day was spent in blissful relaxation. We didn’t really do much, just hung out. She said she had to leave again as it grew dark. This time though, when I leaned in to kiss her politely on the cheek, she turned her head and kissed me on the mouth, hard. Her breath was not great, unsurprisingly, but otherwise the kiss was amazing. Well, to be frank, it was a little toothy. Like, I’m into biting, but not like that. It kind of hurt. Not too bad, but a little. Ok, more than a little. Maybe she hasn’t kissed many guys before? I bet she’s a virgin. She has such a sweet, innocent vibe about her. She’s so cute. Normally I’d be getting impatient with the physical stuff, but with her… I’m enjoying taking our time. I feel like I’m a kid again.
I can’t believe this amazing creature feels about me how I feel about her. It’s only been two days, but I’ve never felt this way before.
Looking in the mirror when I got home, I noticed my lip is bruised and a little cut. Wow. That was some kiss. I bet she’ll be into some really kinky stuff. The innocent ones always are.
June 19th
I didn’t even go home after work tonight, but went straight to the pier (with a quick pitstop at Naka, my favorite sushi place). BFB was there, waiting for me when I arrived. We only had an hour or two till sunset, so I didn’t waste time: the second I saw her, I planted a long, deep kiss on her lips. At first I felt teeth on my tongue, as if she accidentally bit down. I guess my kiss surprised her. I started to taste blood and, not wanting to sully the kiss, I pulled away. BFB immediately blushed. Ugh, I can’t handle how cute she is.
I gave BFB the sushi, but she wasn’t into it. I don’t think it was fresh enough. But at least she didn’t throw it off the dock again, so I was able to enjoy some.
As it grew dark, BFB asked me to come with her. She wanted me to visit her home. As amazing as that sounded, I hesitantly told her no. I explained I had work the next day. I kissed her good-bye though, so she’d know she didn’t freak me out by moving so quickly. I didn’t want her to worry about me thinking she was easy or something.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that I’m not so sure about seeing her home at all. I mean, based on what she’s told me, I don’t think I even could just visit her home. It feels like, if I agree, I’ll never come back. As amazing as she is and as beautiful as her life sounds, the thought makes me queasy. No matter how much I’d love to be with her, like really with her, I’m not sure I can give up my life so permanently. I mean, we’ve only know each other for a weekend! That’d be absolutely crazy, right?
June 20th
Alright, I might have been a little too hasty in declaring my love for BFB. I think I was blinded by her beauty and… feminine wiles, for lack of a better term. She’s fucking batshit. I shouldn’t have gone back to the docks after work tonight. I went home first and ate dinner, even made plans with Casey for tomorrow so I would have an excuse not to see her again. I should’ve just stayed here. I guess my nice guy nature made me go back. I wanted to explain to her that I was busy and wouldn’t be able to see her much this coming week. I was hoping I’d actually get to cop a feel before saying good-bye. But yeah, that didn’t fucking happen.
Thank god the crazy bitch doesn’t know where I live.
The second I got there, she started going on about me coming with her to her place tonight. Like, sex would be great and all, but fuck that shit. It wouldn’t be worth clingy-as-fuck-crazy-fish-breath pussy. I told her I couldn’t and she just stared at me with those piercing black eyes of hers. She began to reach out to me, the coldness of her flesh chilling me to the bone before she even touched me. I pushed her arm away. Her skin was shockingly rough. Not just rough though. It literally felt like sandpaper. I pulled my hand back fast and moved as far from the edge of the dock, and from her, as I could.
Then she started singing! If you could even call it that. It was more like a high pitched wail, begging me to join her in the murky water. I decided it was time to cut my loses and just break it off as fast as possible. It was the merciful thing to do. I stood up, dusted off my shorts, and told her I wasn’t ready for the kind of commitment she was expecting from a romantic relationship.
She did not take that very well. She didn’t respond, but just gnashed her fucking teeth at me like some sort of rabid animal. I had never noticed how sharp her teeth were before. As if she filed them to points like those tribes in Africa. No wonder kissing her hurt so much.
I turned and ran out of there as fast as I could and came straight home.
I think she’s mad at me. Like, really mad at me. Not hurt mad, but like, psycho-bitch-will-murder-me mad. Thank god she doesn’t have legs, or I’d be worried she was coming after me. Lucky for me, fish tail means my would-be-stalker is trapped in the ocean. The curse of the mermaid is my blessing, apparently. And here I’ve been wondering how I was going to fuck her.
——-
Casey here again. That’s the last thing Dave wrote. But, that’s not the last thing written in the journal. The next page, curled and warped from water, has something else. It’s not written in ink. At least, not ink I’ve ever seen. It’s black, but much more iridescent than regular ink. It has this unearthly green tinge, that catches in the light. Even after having read it over and over again, goosebumps crawl up my spine as I transcribe it for you now:
I am taking this foolish mortal down into the dark void, where me and my sisters will take his humanity and use it so that our species may flourish. While he slowly dies, his seed will mold us into so much more. Once every two hundred years, as queen, I am granted legs to come onto dry ground for one night. But once I am done with him, we will no longer be cursed to remain in the ocean, and we will come onto dry ground whenever we very well please.
Prepare yourselves, for I am the beast from beneath, and I will be back very, very soon.
Jess Charle 