The wind howls with fury outside echoing like screams from hell itself. Rain strikes the window so hard it may be mistaken for gunfire. Tonight very well may be the worst storm in the town’s history, or so James ponders from the warmth of his red velvet chair.

His bright brown eyes remain fixed on the inky blackness and rainfall through his window. On occasion lightning will strike off in the distance, illuminating the bending palms beside the beach for a split second. To him it is a thing of tremendous beauty. Nature, even in as tropical a country as this, is often overlooked by man in his incessant need to chase his own manufactured desires. All those little tasks around the house and town which people put so much undo importance on keep the collective eye away from the world, the actual, physical world, around them. As far as James is concerned that’s the only world that matters.

Mankind cannot ignore mother nature forever however. Nights such as these serve as a grand reminder to the fact. Nobody is going out now. No ‘work’ is getting done with the streets overrun in rain and wind. He doubts too that anybody is paying attention to anything else either. Mother nature is being far too violent to be ignored.

Thoughts of nature overturning humanity like this bring him immense satisfaction. A crack of thunder illuminating the shore beyond his window brings a smile to his face. The tide is crashing well over the shoreline, waves churning in wild madness. It is undeniable in its awe-inspiring power. His muscles tense in anticipation. The sea is angry tonight. Promises of her rage striking down men and all their buildings and contraptions dance his mind.

A knock on the door jolts James out of his focus, enraging him. But temperance is a virtue, or so his grandfather always said. So he chokes back his anger and closes his eyes as he slows his breath.

“Yes, Lauren,” James calls out, his tone cold.

“May I come in,” Lauren answers.

The shaking in her voice revolts him. To have respect for nature is the greatest virtue a person can possess and this extends to respect for her wrath. Despite what weak men (that is to say the majority) believe fear is a sign of disrespect. Disrespect for nature in any form is nothing less than pure blasphemy.

“Very well, you may,” James replies.

As the door behind him creaks open James relaxes his posture. He hasn’t lost his temper with his Wife over their six year marriage nor does he plan on doing so now. She may disgust him on a personal level but it would not behoove him to lash out at her. He need only remind himself that it is not her fault she is of weak, uneducated morality. The blame rests on her parent’s wealthy shoulders.

“Thank you, James,” Lauren says in relief.

Stepping inside Laurent closes the door behind her. Her hands fidget with the lace on the sleeves of her silk nightgown. Eyes of blue shimmer with anxiety below blonde curls. Lauren finds little comfort in her husband’s company though it is in the very least better than being alone.

“Terrible storm tonight,” She says through a nervous half smile.

James ‘corrects’ her, “Beautiful you mean.”

“You’re a strong man, James. Most women would Love that in a husband you know,” She jests.

James turns his head. His thick, well groomed shoulder length hair brushes along the edge of his hair, a look of pity on his youthful face.

“Most women get their idea of a proper man from improper men, Lauren. Please do not project that onto me. Even in jest it’s just sad,” he states plain and mechanical.

Lauren inches back, uncomfortable. Six years with this man and she still cannot understand him. His words never quite match his expressions. They come out of those lush lips of his so literal and pointed. Not demeaning or laced with any sinister depths yet so detached. Like a doctor reciting a procedure he’s performed countless times.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, James. I didn’t mean to upset you if I did. I suppose the weather is making me uneasy,” Lauren says, embarrassed.

“No need to apologize, it’s not your fault. Have you tried contacting Delores?” James asks as he returns his gaze to the window.

Delores. Why in God’s name did he have to bring up Delores? He hasn’t seen her since they lived in England and even then no more than thrice. She tries not to mention her so why? Why now, would he bring her up? Still, she must not show her shock. Lauren ceases movement, inhaling deep to give physical reality to her mental fortitude.

“I’m not getting any signal. The storm is too heavy,” She says, matching James’ tone.

“That’s a shame,” James whispers.

His stare grows ever the more intense. Another lightning strike came during Lauren’s pause. Through it he saw tidal waves of unmatchable magnitude. The water must’ve reached upwards of ten feet high. Not too much longer and it may reach the house itself. His fingers press hard against the chair’s arm. So close, oh so close.

His excitement sets Lauren uneasy. She’s not used to seeing him enthused about much of anything let alone something this dangerous. To watch on in silence proves too unnerving for her.

“James, what is it?” She asks, apprehension in her voice.

“It’s magnificent. I haven’t seen anything like this in person,” the corners of his lips curl into an almost romantic smile, “never thought I would either. You know something Lauren, it reminds me of stories my grandfather used to tell me about this place.”

Lauren steps closer, “What do you mean? What sort of stories?”

“My grandfather and I were very close. I always respected him more than those corporate goons who called me their son. Pathetic people, really. They didn’t know anything not related to money. Like your family. Anyway, he told me lots of things about the world. I believed everything which sounded practical but never bought into some of his more…outlandish claims,” James speaks through a nostalgic half whisper, leaning over the chair’s side.

“Outlandish how,” Lauren presses, ever curious.

He speaks slow with careful focus, “About things from earth that man doesn’t speak of. He said that there used to be a third element, one connecting the two. Nature, humanity, and then this…otherness. The old man’s lore spoke of the latter as a sort of bridge between the first two, a kind of force both spiritual and physical. According to him at some point man chose to sever himself from the otherness, damaging all three elements in the process. Over time it was forgotten about by all except those whose bloodlines remained loyal, passing on the knowledge from generation to generation.”

“I take it he considered himself a part of one such bloodline,” Lauren says as she steps closer, intrigued by her husband’s strange tale.

James leans closer, the top button of his deep blue dress shirt popping open, “Yes, of that he was adamant. He said that one day the otherness would return to reconnect the bridge.”

“Just how would that come about?” Asks Lauren.

A groan of thunder rolls outside, teasing another bolt of lightning. James’ muscles stiffen at the sound. More than ever he desires to catch a glimpse at the sea as if it’d give him perfect clarity to all of his grandfather’s riddles.

Speaking low he mutters back, “He never said.”

“Your grandfather must’ve been quite the eccentric,” Lauren chirps in a vain attempt to lighten the mood, “I suppose that’s why your father was so eager to leave as a boy.”

James shoots a stone faced glare at her, making her ill choice of words crystal clear. Lauren’s face goes pale. For as sterile as his usual demeanor is, he’s never looked at her like this before.

“Father left because he was a fool and a coward. When faced with a choice between the complicated truth of the world and the simple lies of a barbaric society he chose ignorance. If it weren’t for that I wouldn’t have needed your family’s money to return to my home and you wouldn’t be trapped here with me,” his voice is harsh, flowing with passionate frustration.

Lauren’s expression turns to a grimace, “Trapped with you? Just what do you mean by that?”

At once anger leaves James, replaced by a calm pity as he answers, “You don’t Love me, Lauren. Nor do you enjoy being here.”

“What?” She says, surprised.

“There’s no need for us to pretend anymore. It’ll only hurt us both. But you know and I know it, neither of us are in Love. With each other, at least. My Love lies here, in the home of my grandfather, and out there in the arms of the wild. As for you well, there’s always Delores,” He says in his classic clinical delivery.

Averting her eyes Lauren covers her hand with her mouth. Every day since they began their relationship she’d known this day would come. However facing it out of the blue like this is a different story.

“I feel sad for you,” James continues, “I needed our marriage for mere money. It’s a goal I could obtain in a literal, physical sense and now I have. Thanks to you I’ve been reunited with my Love. I wish I could say the same for you.”

Tears well in her eyes as she speaks, “Why do you have to talk about it, James? Why now?”

“I,” He pauses, looking back to the storm before finishing his thought, “I feel very fulfilled tonight. A way I haven’t felt since I was a lad. I suppose I feel it a shame for you to be denied that feeling too. It’s the world we came here from, Lauren. It’s sick. It’s poisoned. Only a corrupted, idiotic society can look at who you are and call you unworthy of fulfillment. You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”

Choking back her tears Lauren runs her hand to her forehead. Though he’s not wrong she cannot process hearing it out loud. She doesn’t Love James. Indeed, she never has.There’s always been a level of respect between them yet Love never came close to anything other than a word used on occasion out of obligation. As much of an emotional knot as it is to acknowledge aloud a cool wave of relief washes over her.

A loud thud followed by an electronic scream brings their thoughts away from emotion and back to reality as the room goes pitch dark. Both sigh to themselves, far less spooked than they are thankful for the distraction.

“Lamp’s still in the hallway closet, no?” Lauren asks.

Getting from his seat James responds, “Yes, thank you. I’ll check the fuse box.”

Not missing a step despite the darkness Lauren hurries out the room. James nods to himself, tucking his hands in the pockets of his blazer as he walks down along the room.

Halfway he takes pause. Something stirs inside his head; an intrusive thought, something uncommon to him. It urges him to turn around, almost turning himself around absent of his own conscious ability. Curious, if a bit on edge he follows the siren’s song of this alien instinct.

For a second a flash illuminates the view from the window. What he sees however catches even a learned man such as himself off his guard. His heart stops dead, blood running cold.

“My god,” he whispers, “there’s somebody out there.”

The image remains burned into his vision long after his ability to see it in a literal sense has. There, on the flooded shore awash with rain and seafoam was a figure writhing on their stomach. Details were absent amid all that chaos but he doesn’t doubt it for a second.

Without word or warning he rushes the door past Lauren who hops back in a start. She watches on baffled as James darts down the stairs and opens the door to disappear into the storm. For a moment she fears he’s gone mad but it sets in that something of dire importance is wrong.

“My god. James,” She mutters, turning on her lamp in a frenzy.

Hesitant yet hurried she descends the staircase. Knowing full well she won’t see through the fury of the wind outside she slams the door before running back to the study. She makes it to the window, setting her lamp on the windowsill.

“Damn crazy boy,” She whispers through tight lips.

Her eyes scan the darkness in a vain attempt to find James. Not long into her search a bolt of lightning gives her a glimpse of a scene she didn’t anticipate; there’s a person struggling to stand in the surf, being knocked off wobbling legs by the tide. Judging by their thin, lanky form and long hair she assumes it to be a woman.

Although most of the figure remains obscure it strikes her as odd in a way best alluded to by intuition. Not quite a sense of danger nor disgust this weary phantom feeling creeps up her spin like a Hot tremor.

Some minutes pass, bringing with them a thunder crack of light. Sure enough the brief illumination shows James with his jacket around this figure struggling to help it stand and leaning it on his side. To Lauren’s dismay he’s bringing whatever it is inside their home.

Gathering her courage Lauren turns her back to the window. She doesn’t need to look anymore. No, it is far more important that she works out with herself how she’s going to handle this. All she can do, from what she can gather, is watch and offer support. Still, such a notion doesn’t undo her unpleasant sensation. Whatever is going on here isn’t right. How or why she is not sure and that makes her very, very restless.

Time ticks on seconds into minutes, each passing by with increased distress. Lauren sits fidgeting as her mind attempts to quell itself. Alas the battle is far from won; that unknown sensation festers at the forefront of her mind. A thought comes to her. It begins as a whisper but evolves into a scream.

She needs to get out of there. Now.

Her body locks up, eyes wide into the darkness. Biting down on her bottom lip she tries to formulate a rational explanation for how she feels yet nothing can combat the echoes of panic within. It’s settled, she’s formulating a plan. If James wants to get involved with whatever macabre business this is he’s Free to do so. Besides he already admitted a desire to drop the act and split up so it makes sense to leave him now.

Shaking her head Lauren mumbles to herself, “No, no, damn it!”

Leaving him behind would be murder. How could she do such a thing? Yes, he’s strange and their relationship is a sham but he’s always been at least a friend. She can’t just dump him alone in a storm with, well, whatever it is he’s found.

Wood crashing into itself and shrieking wind breaks Lauren from her internal argument. Dread festers within; she no longer has a choice.

“Lauren! Lauren, bring the lamp down here,” James cries out in an exhausted, cracked voice.

“Yes! Coming,” She calls back.

Grabbing the lantern she runs down the stairs. By the glowing LED lights she catches James standing over the couch dripping wet and motionless. She runs to his side, setting a hand on his shoulder.

“James, are you okay? Oh, why did you have to go and do a thing like that anyway? You could’ve died out there,” Lauren says in tones which beg for a response.

Turning his unblinking dead stare over to her, James mumbles, “it’s not human.”

Stiff, Lauren points the light to the breathing shape laying on the couch. Her face goes white, her mouth dry.

“Jesus,” She whispers, “what is it?”

Though the creature on the couch bares a resemblance to humanity in basic form there is no doubt as to the validity of Jame’s observation. Long, damp, dark hair which sines a deep shade of green covers most of its face aside from a set of thick deep black lips so wide they almost wrap around the entire head. A lay of clear, sweet smelling slime drips from the ridges of its lightly ribbed olive-green skin as it breathes.

“A piece of the otherness,” James says, a corner of his mouth curling to a grin,”just like my grandfather said. They’re real. They came back.”

“This doesn’t make any sense. What you’re talking about is some abstract magic force. This creature is real,” Lauren whispers.

James steps closer, his breathing lowering to match the creature’s, “Abstractions are just things we humans can’t understand. So is magic. This being is a part of that, a thread, a beam of the bridge.”

Seeing it in the light for the first time James regards the being in awe. Its long, lithe body twitches, wide hips swaying against the leather of the couch. In most aspects it resembles a woman, not accounting for a distinct lack of breasts. A beautiful alien woman from the sea. He wonders if she may be one of the mermaids of sailor legend. If so they were wrong in many counts, for she does possess legs. As a matter of fact they are her thickest, most pronounced feature after those glistening lips.

The creature smacks her lips, leaning her head upright. Lauren flinches, eyes alight with fear as the woman-thing turns to her, mouth ajar. Quick, sporadic breaths pass through a row of triangular, pointed teeth. She rises to her elbows, continuing this strange sniffing act before pausing.

Tilting her head the creator mutters in a raspy, inquisitive voice, “Tor’henet’ah?”

Lauren backs away, frightened, “What is it saying? What is that? Why is it talking?”

“Shush,” James snaps.

The creature turns to James, once again sniffing the air. At once she shoots to her feet. Her back hunched, she reaches a circular, suction-cup hand out to him.

“Tor’hent’anah! Tor’ent’anah,” She says with obvious excitement.

Unbothered by fear James reaches out a hand of his own, resting it on her cheek. The creature gasps in joy. She bobs her head, purring as she sets her hand on his chest.

“She was looking for me,” He whispers, caressing her cheek like a reunited lover.

Lauren freezes, unable to grasp what she’s seeing. James and the creature step closer to each other, lips parted. A wide and thin three-pronged purple tongue slips out of her mouth. Saliva drips from it as she and James kiss.

James closes his eyes as her tongue fills his mouth. Her taste is strange yet sweet, it reminds him of a Japanese seafood dish he fancied back in London but alive and warm. Running his hands along her body he finds himself amazed by her slippery, sensual texture. His rational mind left him the second he felt her touch. Now there is only her, this majestic and beautiful force of nature. Yes, a force of nature overtaking man just as he always adored.

His hands circle around her body, the texture hypnotizing him as he traces down the small of her back. Clasping the collar of his dress shirt with her awkward saucer paws the creature tears it away to reveal his bare chest. She pulls her lips away from his in a long, gradual motion, leaving their intertwined saliva to drip down his chin.

Her suction cup paws open wide over his smooth, defined breast. Clasping her hands down she moves her lips to his neck. He moans as she leads a small trail of wet kisses down to where his neck meets his shoulder and opens her mouth; it parts like a bear trap, her head all put splitting in half, razor teeth shining as she engulfs his shoulder.

“James!” Lauren screams in terror.

She jerks forward but falls still in sheer befuddlement as James leans his head back to sigh in distinct pleasure. His hands grip the she-leech’s backside, pulling her close as her lips suck. A numb, tingling sensation fills his body, that is with the noticeable sensation of his cock, it stands on end so sudden and stiff it hurts.

As she feeds off him James rocks his hips in uncontrollable passion. He needs to be inside her. He has to fuck her. It’s all he can think about, all he knows anymore. God, he can’t feel anything except the throbbing of his rock hard prick and the desire to have this strange woman stuff it into her.

Almost as if in response to his mental pleading the creature unlatches her jaws from him, her tongue licking drops of red from her plump grin. With a quick shove James stumbles backwards like a rag doll onto the couch. An arm and a leg dangle off the side totally limp as he breathes slow and heavy, his amphibious mistress quick to creep up to his side.