The Siren’s Lullaby

Griffin woke up with a searing headache. To top off getting much less sleep than normal on account of sailing through a storm and crashing into an island, the sleep he had received was restless and uncomfortable. The tropical sun burned through his eyelids, and upon opening them, he immediately slapped a hand to his face to shade from the blinding light. He felt like an old barley sack.

Ugh, no rest for the weary it seemed.

The singing he’d heard last night had returned. It was quiet, and he hadn’t noticed it until now. A mournful melody, filled with longing and hope, graced his ears and wound its way into his head. God, his heart ached for it. He needed to find the source of the singing. But wait, the eyes last night, the shadowy figures!

“Captain!” a cry rang throughout the camp, halting the singing and startling the remnants of sleep from Griffin. “Leo’s missing!”

Jim the Cook barrelled out of the forest, panting.

“Leo?” Captain Richardson yelled, sitting up. “The fuck’s going on??”

“We was out foraging together for supplies for breakfast,” Jim gasped, “in the trees a ways back, see, and he says he hears some kind of singing, says it’s the most beautiful lady’s voice. I says to him he’s hearing things after the wreck, should get his head checked out. I turn around and next thing I know he’s disappeared! I called after him, but he was plain gone!”

“A woman’s voice, you say?” the captain responded. “Figures. That boy’d fuck a pig if it had a pair of dairies and a pretty voice.”

“We’re gonna search for ‘im, right? Right?” The handful of crewmembers nervously looked amongst themselves.

“He’s probably fine, you’ll see,” Richardson declared. “Just gone a bit touched in the head. Stress will do that to a man. I’d give a schilling he’s found a hole somewhere and stuck his pego in it, the fuckin’ wanker. He’ll be back before we know it.”

Murmurs and whispers rippled through the remaining crewmembers.

“The fuck yer yappin’ on about?”

“Well,” one of the crew spoke up timidly, “there’s just been talk about, um, the possibility of maybe . . . um, Leo being taken by . . . sirens.”

“Sirens? Are ye all a bunch of old housewives??” the captain sneered. “That’s an old wives’ legend, and I won’t have none of that talk amongst my crew!” He hoisted his pistol and jammed it into its holster on his belt. “There are absolutely no voices, and most definitely no sirens! Now we be going on a hunting raid! There’s gotta be some tasty pigs on this island somewhere!”

More murmurs swept through the handful of sailors. Resentment simmered throughout the crowd.

Richardson rolled his eyes. “Fine. We search for Leo while we’re at it.”

Armed with makeshift spears and a couple of guns, the remaining crew of the Greyhound ventured into the forest.

Griffin timidly clutched his spear, near the back of the search party. The singing had returned, louder and stronger than ever, almost distractingly so. Was the song he was hearing really the work of sirens? It was hard to imagine the beautiful comforting song he was hearing really came from the mouths of nightmarish monsters, who would devour a man who fell victim to their lures. Were those the things he’d seen last night? Sirens? He shivered. Trapped on an island with creatures hell-bent on eating him was a terrifying thought.

His mind, as it often did when he was distressed, went to thinking about Sam. Sam would know what to say to comfort him. That smile, the dirty blonde hair, the strong arms. Oh how he wished to see that man again. He hadn’t ever appreciated what he had while Sam was still alive. Perhaps, even, if Sam had been a girl he would have courted her. Sam was a bit of a molly, after all. Or conversely, if Griffin had been a woman instead . . .

He shook his head. Those were dangerous thoughts. They were just friends, that was all. And Sam was dead now. Griffin was alone.

Griffin blinked and realized that he was literally alone. He stood surrounded by only palm trees and bushes, with no one else in sight. Had he been so lost in his thoughts that he’d lost track of the rest of the party? He looked for any sign of the other crew members, but they had disappeared in the thicket.

If they had noticed and called out to him, he wouldn’t have heard, because at that moment, the singing returned. It wrapped around his mind and held it firmly like an octopus. It wasn’t just loud, it was intoxicating

. Every fiber of his being was held at attention by the music, and all he could do was listen. Each note felt like a balm of aloe after a bad sunburn; the phrases filled him with need. He needed whatever it was at the other end of the music.

He only halfheartedly noticed that he was walking. Walking towards the sound of the music. It wasn’t coming from a specific place, but he instinctively knew the direction to go. The spear dropped out of his hand as he relaxed it. An increasingly weaker part of his mind screamed that he was walking into a trap, but the warmth and love from the song wrapped him in a hug that felt sweeter and softer than he’d ever received before. He didn’t even care anymore that he was walking to his death. A sweet death was lovelier than his miserable life would ever be.

He was now entering a cave, walking down stone steps. Absently, he noticed a human skull, picked clean, lying on the ground. He at least hoped the sirens would be quick.

The music stopped and Griffin regained sensibility. He was standing in a carved-out archway, which opened into a large cave. Many other archways lined the perimeter, and in the center, a large circular pool was carved out, with steps leading down into the water along the whole perimeter, like a miniature amphitheatre. A hole in the ceiling opened up to the sky, shedding sunlight down into the cave. The water from the pool reflected the light and bounced it about, dancing in a myriad of shapes across the cavern walls.

The most perplexing sight, however, was the number of women mingling throughout. Clusters of nearly a dozen women were conversing happily together, of all shapes and ethnicities. A pair of young women were sitting at the poolside chatting while dangling their feet in the water, while another looked to be washing clothes. Even a little girl ran across the cavern floor. They seemed so . . . normal. And so happy? These couldn’t be the monsters Griffin had heard about, could they?

The group of women hushed as they all noticed the ragged man standing in the entrance. Adrenaline surged through Griffin’s gut. This was it! This was the part where he got horribly devoured! He clenched his muscles in preparation to dash back up the stairs and run back to camp.

“Ah! There you are!” a woman with golden yellow hair that cascaded to her waist called out. Her skin was tanned and a light, billowy white robe hung over her shoulders. “We’ve been waiting for you sweetheart,” she said stepping forward with arms open.  “I almost thought you’d never come, I was about to go get you myself.”

Griffin tensed as she approached. He took a step back.

She looked up at him with calm, motherly eyes, with a hint of sadness.

“Oh oh oh oh, it’s okay, sweetheart. No one is going to hurt you.” She cautiously moved closer, until she was in reach, then slowly pulled Griffin into a warm hug. “You’ve been hurt so much already.”

Griffin wanted to melt, to let himself cry into this stranger’s arms, to let out all of the pain he’d been through. But he held himself back. He pulled away.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I am Zinara,” the golden-haired woman responded. She gestured to the rest of the crowd, which was now approaching slowly. “And as you may have already guessed, we are all sirens. And no, we aren’t going to eat you.” She addressed the others. “Girls, you can all relax now.”

A sigh of relief washed over the crowd of women, and they transformed before his eyes. In less than a couple of seconds, scales replaced skin, fins popped out, and eyes turned glowing yellow. Surrounding Griffin was now a myriad of vibrant fish-like humanoids, colored in all the hues of a tropical reef, from oranges to blues to yellows, pinks, and purples. Many sirens eagerly smiled at him, and he saw that their mouths were now filled with very sharp, very pointy teeth.

His eyes went wide and he fearfully jumped into a defensive stance.

“I already told you,” Zinara said, “you’re safe with us. No one will hurt you.” She was now covered in fiery reddish orange scales, with black stripes running laterally down her arms. Fins jutted from her forearms, back, and legs, as well as a pair where her ears would have been. Her golden hair remained the same.

“But, but,” he stammered. “What about the stories? What about the skull I saw on the way down? I thought you were going to eat me!”

Zinara rolled her eyes and looked pointedly at another young siren with bright blue scales. “Ellely, I told you to stop leaving your souvenirs around the house!” she reprimanded. The woman yelped and rushed up the stairs to grab it. “I swear,” Zinara said, rubbing her forehead, “the struggle to keep this place clean is near-herculean.”

Zinara looked back to Griffin and smiled. “Sorry about that, and apologies for the scare. While the stories have some merit, we sirens do not attract and eat humans indiscriminately. They require a bit of um, ripening first.

"Sirens have only two songs, you see: The Song for Blackness, and The Song for Longing. Only those with hearts of black and filth can hear the former. These are the absolutely irredeemable, the worst that humanity has to offer. One of your crewmates came calling after this song early this morning actually. A disgusting slimy man, whose heart was only filled with lust, who raped and bred other women for fun, with no consequence. The lustful ones I find particularly tasty; he made a good breakfast.”

Other sirens in the group nodded affirmations. Griffin paled with horror.

“Of course, no siren is obligated to eat such things!” Zinara said hurriedly. “There are plenty of other things for you to eat as well, like fish, crabs, coconuts, clams, etc. You could even grow crops if you’d like.”

Griffin's eyes narrowed. “Why did you just refer to me like that?”

“Well,” Zinara hesitated, “because of the other siren song, the one you heard. The Song for Longing can only be heard by those who long desperately for something, to be something, that they cannot have. You heard our song because deep down, you wish you could be someone else, don’t you? You have been unhappy with your body for your whole life. You wish you could be . . . female, yes?”

Oh God. When it was laid out so clearly, Griffin understood everything. He couldn't even argue. That was the reason why he had hated himself, his life. He knew there was something wrong with him, on a fundamental level. This is what he had been searching for all along.

“We present you with an offer. Become a siren. Become one of us. Receive a female body, that which matches the female soul you have inside. You are also welcome to stay with us, or travel back to wherever you wish. If you do so, however, I implore you to keep your siren form a secret.”

Zinara looked down at the pool, which was stirring. She smiled warmly.

“Though there is someone here who would like to convince you to stay. She was out in the lagoon all day today, learning to swim with a tail, but now that you’ve shown up, I believe she’ll be arriving in just a moment.

Just then, a streak of color shot below the surface of the water. A split second later, a beautiful siren erupted from the surface, covered head to toe in bright orange, with mint variegated splotches and stripes winding around her body. With a flash, her tail split into two scaly legs while in midair, and she landed with a skid, her dirty blonde ponytail whipping out and drying in an instant. Her loose top and skirt billowed as she rushed toward the group.

“Where?” she exclaimed. Others pointed at Griffin.

Their eyes met.

Her eyes were yellow and slitted now, but he still recognized them. The teeth were pointy, but that damned grin, it was still the same. The strong jaw and gruff build had feminized, but there was no mistaking the person before him. Griffin could barely believe what he was seeing.

“. . . Sam?”

“Samantha now, but yes! It’s so good to see you!” Samantha smothered Griffin in a hug.

He couldn't believe it. Sam was alive! Tears immediately formed in his eyes, and he buried his face into her shoulder.

“I-I thought I’d lost you! I thought you died!”

“Well, not quite, they rescued me just in time.”

“We found her on our patrol,” Zinara chimed in, “just beyond the reef during that storm, on the brink of drowning. Luckily, because Samantha was drawn to our song as well, we found her easily. Unfortunately we couldn’t save the others. ”

“After that, it wasn’t much of a hard decision to become a siren either,” Samantha said. “I always knew I was a girl deep down inside, so it wasn’t that difficult.” She hugged Griffin again. “I thought I’d never see you again. I thought, after I had fallen overboard, once the storm passed, you had gone on and sailed away forever. But then I heard you had grounded on our island and it took half of the girls here to keep me from stomping out on the beach and seeing you right then and there!”

A bunch of the sirens chuckled to themselves.

“Apparently it’s of ‘utmost importance’ to keep from being discovered. To know you were here, and be unable to see you was almost worse than thinking you were gone forever. You have no idea how happy I was when I found out you could hear our song! I always kinda knew you weren’t exactly who you seemed, but it was so good to find out for sure!”

Samantha held him by the shoulders and looked deep into his eyes.

“Will you stay with us? Please?”

Griffin was stumped. What should he do? Bizarre fish-woman? That was a very unusual thing to be. It was so different from being a normal human. And he also couldn’t forget that they still ate people. Would he be betraying humanity, in a sense, by accepting? Did he care? What had humanity ever done for him? His life had been a series of abuse and trauma before joining the crew with Sam--er, Samantha.

He wanted to stay with Samantha, oh so very much, and he definitely wanted to be a woman, perhaps even more so. But what if he couldn’t be a good one? What if it wouldn’t work because he was faking something? Samantha supposedly always knew she was a girl inside, but he’d only found out just now, and he wasn’t sure--

What was she thinking? She knew the answer before the question was even asked!

“Yes.” Griffin smiled. “Yes I will!”

Samantha squealed and hugged her, and the rest of the sirens joined in a massive group hug.

“You’re going to love it,” Samantha said softly, “it’s really some-fin special.”

“. . .”

“. . .”

“Was that a fish joke?”

Samantha burst into laughter. “Gill-ty!”